I arrived at the casting office on a humid Saturday. Walking into the room in a lycra one-piece, the casting agent's eyes watered. He dashed to open the window. 'Sorry, but this is just a small room and you smell.' He left the room and returned with a aerosol can of deodorant. Taken aback, I'd had a shower an hour before, I applied to to one underarm. 'Other one too', he said. This was a new low in my acting work. It's difficult to get parts, anyway, so I figured I wouldn't have to see them again.
Unfortunately I got a call-back. And this message:
I couldn't get out of there fast enough. But had a suspicion this was a role I was going to get - just that no one had told me it was a comic role. D'uh why else would a slim guy be cast as a weighlifter?
Coincidentally a friend was working on the production in wardrobe. She turned up at my house to measure me up for a lycra one-piece weightlifting suit. Just as she went to pass a tape measure between my legs to measure from my chest to upper back, she said, 'So... how've you been, Drus?', and we both started laughing.
A week later we're in the middle of the weightlifting scene. I'm required to lift a a 25kg bar above my head for as long as it takes. About 3 takes into it the wardrobe woman approaches me to discuss a delicate subject. There is a visible seam on the front of the g-string that she's asked me to wear. She takes me behind a curtain and asks me to see if It can be re-arranged. It can't so she gives me two pairs of bike shorts to put on in the changing room. With a crew of around 40 people waiting. Visible penis line gets solved, but the director tells me I'm doing the weightlifting too well - it needs to be a bit more unstable, whilst simultaneously happening without any pauses. There was a much relief once that was all over.
I was thinking of sending the casting agent who complained about my scent (I'm blaming the old rowing suit I was modelling) some flowers. Or a perfumed letter. Or my g-string...
Here's the ad (0.15):