A Star Is Boring

I recently had a fairly singular experience- one which most people don't have, but which enough people do have and go without tangible reward for that my head has not swelled any. I allude obliquely to, of course, to the screening at a highly-reputable short film festival of a piece I acted in. I've been in a ever-lengthening list of sketch comedy videos aimed at the internet, but this was really the first time my face wound up in something else. It was a most interesting and gratifying experience, and I felt I could not now let it go without comment.

We shot the movie some months ago, so there was considerable emotional distance. In fact, just a few hours before the screening was to commence, I was not planning on attending. The reason for that does not really seem adequate now. It felt as if my contributions to the film were not so great that my presence would seem to people like a foregone conclusion. Getting to West Hollywood, the location of the screening, from North Hollywood is surprisingly difficult. Additionally, the improv class to which I have become so attached was saying goodbye to the beloved building it had been in for what felt like so long. To miss that seemed like not watching Johnny Carson's last night on the Tonight Show.

My change of heart and decision to attend the screening must be credited to the film's director and my good friend- the first friend I made in LA, and for a long time, almost the only one I had. He inquired as to whether I would be going, and I hemmed and hawed a bit. As I prevaricated, I realized how little it made sense to pass up the occasion. The timing of the screening gave me hope that I would be able to catch at least some of that ultimate class. I then consented to go to said screening, and he came by to pick me up on his way. I'm extremely glad I went. The first and most important reason was to see, talk to and catch up with some wonderful people with whom I had worked on the film's set. That alone was worth it, as it was a very happy and entertaining set, one all-night shoot aside. Regrettably, not everyone I had hoped to see was in attendance, but I hold out hope that I will see them soon enough.

There were some very engrossing other short films in the program ours was in. I did not find myself to be impatiently awaiting it, and that was good. I enjoyed the rest, and was glad to hear the insight of the other filmmakers attending the event in person. This brings up an important point: This is the only time in a movie theater when applause is warranted- when the makers are physically present and able to hear your gesture. Our film came soon enough, and it came together very well in the post-production process. I had never seen any previous version of it, and could only compare it with the out-of-order, unpolished series of scenes I was on set for. Some scenes I was not on set for, and others I was in a poor position to watch and assess objectively. It was enjoyable and akin to experiencing all parts of it fresh.

Naturally, my own turn as an actor was on my mind. I watched with an eagle eye for my every appearance, and was not disappointed. About all of what I did wound up on the screen, and I gather that the nature of my appearance, personality and performance led the part I played to become somewhat larger than it had been. I think it was even non-existent until I came along. My time on screen was fleeting, but it seemed for certain to get a measurable and positive response. To see myself on the screen like that felt really special. It was a big screen in a real movie theater with a packed house of honest-to-God paying customers and successful filmmakers. It felt really good.

Even better were the kind words afterwards from all my friends and collaborators who had watched it as well. I had meant to take off as soon as I could after the screening, but lingered because I'm as susceptible as anyone to an ego boost. Most everyone else headed off to celebrate at a nearby sushi restaurant. This I did not do. I still hoped to make part of that class, and had been at a sushi restaurant the night before. It's worth noting that I really don't care for sushi. I've tried it, and it's not for me. It was at this time that I said my heartfelt thanks and goodbyes, setting out to make that oddysey to class. Everything fell into place, even a brutally packed Orange Line bus (something for another post, perhaps), and I appeared dramatically towards the tail end of said class, which was itself a special experience.