I CALLED SKYWALKER FIRST. HE WAS really excited, almost more excited than I was.
"This is huge!" Skywalker said. "You're the one kid in a million!"
"I don't have the part yet," I reminded him.
"Oh, you can forget about that, that's a hopeless dream for you."
"But you just said I was the one kid in a million."
"But actually getting the part, that's one in, like, five million."
"Where are you getting these numbers? I think you're making them up."
"Well, yeah, I am. But seriously, don't get your hopes up."
"Okay, but don't tell anyone about it. I don't want anyone to know about it if I don't get it."
"Don't worry, I won't say anything, 'cause you're not going to get it. Have fun fantasizing about it, though." He hung up.
Dash actually had some advice. His father had been in casting sessions before and had told Dash some of the mistakes actors make when they come in for an audition.
WHAT TO DO IN AN AUDITION
1. Don't be late.
2. Be prepared. Know the role.
3. If you come in costume, don't overdo it. (Example: no cockroach costume.)
4. Don't ignore or insult the receptionist, secretary, or anyone else you meet on your way in; they talk about you after you leave and it gets back to the writer, director, and producer.
5. Be upbeat and enthusiastic, but not so much that you appear insane. Try to make them laugh.
6. Don't criticize the script or ask if you can change your lines; the writer may be in the room and doesn't want your notes.
7. Don't bring bribes or gifts, but do have an interesting story to tell about yourself so that they will remember you.
8. Do it right the first time—first impressions are everything. Don't bump into the furniture.
9. When you're finished, look them in the eye and thank them for seeing you. Last impressions are also everything.
10. Above all, BE NATURAL.
At nine thirty, while I was getting ready for bed, the doorbell rang. My parents usually don't answer the door after eight in the evening unless they're expecting someone, but whoever was at the door was insistent. BING-BONG, BING-BONG, BING-BONG. My father closed his newspaper and cautiously opened the door. It was a young man dressed in regular street clothes. He looked like he was in a hurry.
"May I help you? I'm not going to buy or sign anything," my dad warned.
The man thrust a manila envelope at him. "Sign here please," he said, ignoring what my dad had said about not signing anything.
My dad read the paper on the clipboard and then signed it. The man thanked him, went back to his car, and drove away. Then my dad looked at the envelope, surprised.
"Mitch, this is for you."
In an instant I was by his side. I ripped open the envelope and pulled out a script. It was very short, only about three pages long. This is what it said on the cover:
REVISED SECOND DRAFT
Director: Alvin Fisher
Bieterman, Schwartz,
and VanDyke, Inc.
1200 125th Street
New York, NY 10010
My mom and dad were now hovering over my shoulder as I opened the script to the first page. This is what it said:
FIZZY WHIZ SODA
"You Like Bubbles?"
FADE IN:
Music Cue: Hip, up-tempo music.
EXT. BASKETBALL COURT – DAY
We see TWO TEENAGERS in a pickup game,
dribbling, taking shots, etc.
DEEP VOICE (V.O.)
Some things should never be flat.
CAMERA PANS to the other side of the court. We see a SAD BOY trying to dribble with a FLAT BASKETBALL. CLOSE UP on his depressed expression.
MONTAGE OVER MUSIC:
1. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD STREET – DAY A group of BOYS AND GIRLS rides bikes down the street. One GIRL is left in the dust by her friends as she struggles to pedal. ANGLE ON BICYCLE WHEELS, which are flat.
2. INT. KITCHEN/DINING ROOM – EVENING A MOM whisks a soufflé out of the oven and carries it to her waiting FAMILY at the dining room table. As soon as she gets to the table, the soufflé collapses. The family frowns; the mom is distressed.
3. EXT. OLD SHIP 1492 – DAY CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS, on his ship, gazes through a spyglass at the ocean's horizon. CAMERA PULLS BACK farther and farther until we are out in SPACE and see the image of PLANET EARTH. CAMERA MOVES around the EARTH, revealing that the earth is actually on a flat plane.
CUT TO:
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS as he notices the ocean is pouring over the edge into a huge waterfall. ANGLE ON SPACE POV: The ship goes over the edge of the earth, falling into oblivion.
4. EXT. BASKETBALL COURT–DAY A BORED BUSINESSMAN, who is watching the pickup game, pops open a can of generic soda, drinks, and is disgusted. He pours the offending drink on the ground.
ANGLE ON: THE FIZZY WHIZ KID weaves in and out of the basketball players on a unicycle and stops in front of the businessman.
FIZZY WHIZ KID
You like bubbles?
The man nods. The kid reaches into his jacket, which is lined with cans of FIZZY WHIZ SODA. He picks one, pops it open, and hands it to the man, who takes a deep, refreshing drink.
CLOSE ON: The man's eyes. They fill up with flashing sparkles and bubbles! The businessman grabs the basketball, executes some amazing dribbling and fancy footwork, then shoots a basket from mid-court, much to the amazement and applause of the pickup players.
CLOSE ON: FIZZY WHIZ KID, who holds the soda can up to camera. CLOSE ON: FIZZY WHIZ SODA CAN
DEEP VOICE (V.O.)
Fizzy Whiz Soda. You like bubbles?
CHYRON HUGE LETTERS THAT FILL THE SCREEN: YOU LIKE BUBBLES?
FADE OUT.
There were a lot of things about the script that I didn't understand, but I got the general idea. Somebody had highlighted the line for the Fizzy Whiz Kid with yellow marker.
"I guess they want me to try out for the part of the Fizzy Whiz Kid," I said.
"It's only one line. That shouldn't be too hard," my dad said.
"Why don't you practice it, Mitch," my mom suggested.
"You like bubbles?" I said. My parents looked at each other, not sure what to do next.
"Well, that sounded good to me," my dad said finally, sitting back on the couch. He picked up the newspaper.
"I guess so," my mom said with a shrug. She reread the cover letter. "This says you need to be at Warner Brothers Studios at nine o'clock. You'd better get some sleep. You don't want to be yawning through the audition."
I took the script and went to my room. I read it a few more times. It did seem easy enough. Maybe I was missing something. I lay back on my pillow and stared at the ceiling. Then I said the line a few more times aloud. I tried to make it sound like I was really excited about the soda. They probably wanted the Fizzy Whiz Kid to be really enthusiastic about the product. I practiced it that way a few more times until I was satisfied, and then snuggled under my blanket and fell asleep.
The next day I skipped breakfast. I was too excited. I had already chewed down my fingernails and picked off two scabs that now required band-aids before we'd even gotten out the door. My mom threatened to make me wear mittens if I didn't stop, so I put a rubber band around my wrist and played with it to keep my fingers busy.
Mom drove me to Warner Bros. Studios in Burbank, which is in an area of Los Angeles known as "the Valley." The Valley refers to the San Fernando Valley, which is on the northern side of the Santa Monica Mountains, which cut through the huge city of Los Angeles.
The first thing I saw as we came out of the mountains was the water tower with the Warner Bros. symbol painted on it. I could see it poking out from the rest of the studio buildings. That was very exciting. Even though I haven't watched a lot of TV or seen many movies, I still recognized that symbol.
As we continued down the road, we reached one side of the studio lot, which seemed to go on forever. You couldn't see where it ended. The lot was surrounded by a tall wall, and behind the wall were a bunch of wide buildings that were like giant shoe boxes with rounded roofs, all lined up in rows. (I found out later they're called soundstages.)
Farther down the street we started seeing billboards advertising movies and television shows that had been produced by Warner Bros. These billboards were gigantic. It was a little weird seeing twenty-foot-tall faces grinning down at you.
"I always thought actors had big heads," my mom said, trying to be funny—but I could tell she was nervous too. I hoped she would calm down before we got there. My mom gets a little weird when she's nervous.
We drove past one billboard after another until we reached the Gate 3 driveway. One side of the driveway said VISITORS, the other said EMPLOYEES. We took the visitor side.
The guard at the gate leaned out of his guard box. He was in full uniform, which of course didn't help my mom's nervousness. I could see little drops of sweat forming on her forehead.
"Name, please?"
"Helen Mathis."
The guard checked his computer and shook his head. "Would you be under some other name?"
"Ah, well, I'm sure there must be a mistake, ah, I mean, we were instructed to…" She was getting that squirrely look, shifting in her seat, like at any moment she would bolt from the car.
I leaned over her to talk to the guard. "Could you please try Mitch Mathis, sir?"
The guard checked again and nodded, and then printed out a pass that he taped to our windshield. He handed my mom a map after tracing a path on it with a highlighter pen.
"You're going to Bungalow Twenty-three," he said. "Just follow the yellow line on the map. You're going to turn left at the stop sign, then straight through the next two stop signs, then make another left, and then a right at this street. Keep going until you get to the parking lot. Go ahead and park in any visitor space. You're going to see three two-story buildings that all look the same. Go into the one that's the third from the right and sign in at the guard desk. He'll tell you where to go from there. Got it?"
"Yes," my mom said. She drove through the gate, happy to be done with him. "You got some of that, didn't you, Mitch?" she said hopefully.
"I think so," I said, but I wasn't sure. We drove past a sea of parked cars and took a left at the first stop sign.
After that we were lost.
