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Authors: Di Morrissey
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willow trees and captioned ‘On Tranquil Banks’.
He could not get to the café until his lunch break. He hurried downstairs to where Nino had given Topov the space in the basement restaurant that was closed to customers during the day. To his surprise, he found that the auditions had not even started and that Helen was just setting up a table with three chairs behind it and putting notepads in front of each chair. On one side of the table, Drago had a small tripod and a camera set up and several professional lights to take still photographs of any potential leading ladies.
‘Hello, Colin. Do you have copies of the audition piece?’ asked Helen.
‘I dropped them into Nino’s this morning on my way to work, but I only managed to do a few copies. Do you want me to get them? Where’s Mr Topov?’
‘He’ll be along. We’ll ask only those girls who have obvious talent to read,’ she said.
‘So how do you decide who that will be? By their experience?’ asked Colin.
‘What good is that? Most of them will make up their résumés,’ said Helen.
‘It’ll be the looks,’ said Drago. ‘Did you put in the advertisement that only pretty girls need apply?’
At last Topov arrived, looking as if he’d slept in his clothes, rumpled hair and bleary-eyed and told Peter to bring in the applicants. Colin was amazed at the turnout. Twenty had arrived to be interviewed, including two male transvestites still in their make-up and cocktail dresses from the previous evening.
Topov dropped a large black-leather notebook on the table and called for espresso coffee. ‘Topov is writing brilliant script,’ he announced.
Colin blanched, wondering if he was suddenly out of a job. ‘Mr Topov, I’ve written a scene for the leading lady. If you’d like to look at it . . .’ But Topov pushed the papers back at Colin.
‘Good, good. First we look at girls. Bring in first star to be.’
The women were dressed in a variety of outfits from casual to elaborate party wear. Some had never acted at all, others inflated their meagre thespian experiences. One young woman, dressed in denim jeans with turned up cuffs and a man’s shirt seemed to be the most experienced and talented. But when she said she was studying method acting with another actor from New York, Topov threw his hands in the air.
‘This rubbish. Crazy acting. Be a cow. Be an alligator.Be a cloud.’ He began dancing about waving his arms, in a surprisingly nimble way.
The woman scowled. ‘Is that what your film is about? Cows and alligators? Count me out.’ And she stomped from the room.
Topov burst into laughter. ‘I like this one.’
‘I don’t think she’s interested,’ said Helen. ‘Let’s move on.’
Topov, Colin and Helen sat behind the table as the women continued to come forward to answer questions posed by Topov. It was an ordeal for everyone. Colin cringed as Topov challenged, taunted, teased and flirted with the women, dismissing most of them, but telling a few, ‘You wait. Come back for screen test.’
It became obvious to Colin that Drago had been right. Topov only spent time with the pretty women, even when it was obvious they lacked experience or had not the faintest idea of what they would be embarking upon. One girl wanted to come back home at weekends to visit her boyfriend, another asked if she could bring her mother along. One actress wanted to be able to go back and forth for theatre auditions.
Topov continued to ignore Colin’s script. When he thought a girl had some potential he leapt up and sketched a brief dramatic scenario, which proved to be mostly incomprehensible to the actress. But with Topov leaping dramatically in front of her screaming, ‘Killer snake, crocodile, wild beast . . . coming to attack! What to do,’ the girl quickly got the message to squeal, scream and emote. While several of the girls simply looked at Topov as if he were a madman and walked away, others flung themselves into scenes of abandon, throwing
He could not get to the café until his lunch break. He hurried downstairs to where Nino had given Topov the space in the basement restaurant that was closed to customers during the day. To his surprise, he found that the auditions had not even started and that Helen was just setting up a table with three chairs behind it and putting notepads in front of each chair. On one side of the table, Drago had a small tripod and a camera set up and several professional lights to take still photographs of any potential leading ladies.
‘Hello, Colin. Do you have copies of the audition piece?’ asked Helen.
‘I dropped them into Nino’s this morning on my way to work, but I only managed to do a few copies. Do you want me to get them? Where’s Mr Topov?’
‘He’ll be along. We’ll ask only those girls who have obvious talent to read,’ she said.
‘So how do you decide who that will be? By their experience?’ asked Colin.
‘What good is that? Most of them will make up their résumés,’ said Helen.
‘It’ll be the looks,’ said Drago. ‘Did you put in the advertisement that only pretty girls need apply?’
At last Topov arrived, looking as if he’d slept in his clothes, rumpled hair and bleary-eyed and told Peter to bring in the applicants. Colin was amazed at the turnout. Twenty had arrived to be interviewed, including two male transvestites still in their make-up and cocktail dresses from the previous evening.
Topov dropped a large black-leather notebook on the table and called for espresso coffee. ‘Topov is writing brilliant script,’ he announced.
Colin blanched, wondering if he was suddenly out of a job. ‘Mr Topov, I’ve written a scene for the leading lady. If you’d like to look at it . . .’ But Topov pushed the papers back at Colin.
‘Good, good. First we look at girls. Bring in first star to be.’
The women were dressed in a variety of outfits from casual to elaborate party wear. Some had never acted at all, others inflated their meagre thespian experiences. One young woman, dressed in denim jeans with turned up cuffs and a man’s shirt seemed to be the most experienced and talented. But when she said she was studying method acting with another actor from New York, Topov threw his hands in the air.
‘This rubbish. Crazy acting. Be a cow. Be an alligator.Be a cloud.’ He began dancing about waving his arms, in a surprisingly nimble way.
The woman scowled. ‘Is that what your film is about? Cows and alligators? Count me out.’ And she stomped from the room.
Topov burst into laughter. ‘I like this one.’
‘I don’t think she’s interested,’ said Helen. ‘Let’s move on.’
Topov, Colin and Helen sat behind the table as the women continued to come forward to answer questions posed by Topov. It was an ordeal for everyone. Colin cringed as Topov challenged, taunted, teased and flirted with the women, dismissing most of them, but telling a few, ‘You wait. Come back for screen test.’
It became obvious to Colin that Drago had been right. Topov only spent time with the pretty women, even when it was obvious they lacked experience or had not the faintest idea of what they would be embarking upon. One girl wanted to come back home at weekends to visit her boyfriend, another asked if she could bring her mother along. One actress wanted to be able to go back and forth for theatre auditions.
Topov continued to ignore Colin’s script. When he thought a girl had some potential he leapt up and sketched a brief dramatic scenario, which proved to be mostly incomprehensible to the actress. But with Topov leaping dramatically in front of her screaming, ‘Killer snake, crocodile, wild beast . . . coming to attack! What to do,’ the girl quickly got the message to squeal, scream and emote. While several of the girls simply looked at Topov as if he were a madman and walked away, others flung themselves into scenes of abandon, throwing
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