Salutations, aficionados of the thespian muse:
While Sparky is out obtaining competing bids on what he’s convinced is an first edition of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, but which I’m pretty sure is a mildewed high school Latin textbook, and which he claimed by the ancient salvage law of found-in-plain-sight under a pile of other books in the Cousins apartment, I thought it à propos to share with you a few more of our sometimes-willing host’s musings on life in the arts. You may insert my standard disclaimers and disavowals as to content into what you read below.
Uncle Fun
As an alleged entertainer, I am often asked by non-performers whether I ever suffer from stage fright. I tell them yes, but only on two occasions—whenever I talk to other people in show business, and whenever they talk to me. Although people in ‘the biz’ (as people in ‘the biz’ like to call ‘the biz’) seem outwardly approachable and eminently gregarious, the truth is that what seem like casual chats among show folk are in reality minefields strewn with hidden perils. A silent, unspoken, unwritten (or written, but badly in need of a rewrite) code of discourse governs all verbal transactions conducted between those who put on shows, from the most elaborate Hollywood blockbuster to the humblest Sunday-school Christmas pageant. Dollar signs and zeroes are all that distinguish the content of what Brad and Angelina say to their peers and what one six-year-old in a bathrobe, holding a shepherd’s crook lashed together from a hockey stick and a coat hanger, says to another.
This means that, no matter how small the scope of your entertainment ambitions, you must always be on your guard. Show business protocol dictates that there are three things you must never say to another showbiz person: 1. that you are currently out of work; 2. that you have no prospects for work once your current work is finished; and 3. that you absolutely, positively, and beyond all shadow of a doubt, hate the guts of the person you’re speaking to. The likelihood that at least two of the three conditions just mentioned will be true at any given time makes conversation difficult, if not utterly impossible. To get around the prospect of unending silence whenever two or three are gathered together in the name of Showbiz, entertainment tradition has woven a sophisticated latticework of euphemisms around each of these potential conversation-stoppers. Using any of the phrases listed below in place of what you really mean will maintain the flow of dialogue long enough for a more suitable, and neutral, topic of conversation to crop up.
So, for “I’M NOT WORKING RIGHT NOW”, you can safely substitute the following:
“I HAVE A COUPLE OF PROJECTS ON THE GO.”
It’s always important to have a couple of imaginary projects ‘on the go’ in the world of showbiz discourse. Show people all know that if you have only one project, it will fall through. Multiple projects can all fall through as well, of course, but at least it makes it look like you’re trying to beat the odds.
“I’M TAKING A BREAK TO RECHARGE MY BATTERIES. MY LAST FEW PROJECTS TOOK A LOT OUT OF ME.”
This one has the added plus of making it sound like you may just have been in rehab, which, while a career-ender in most other professions, may be just the thing to jump-start a flagging career in show business.
“I’VE BEEN TRYING TO SPEND MORE TIME WITH MY FAMILY.”
This is one that politicians often use. As a consequence, everybody sees through this one for the out-and-out lie it is. The only thing that people without jobs do when they spend time with their families is worry where the money’s going to come from to support their families. Avoid this one except in an extreme emergency, such as when you’re talking to another out-of-work showbiz type who won’t shut up about spending time with their family.
For “I HAVE NOTHING LINED UP AFTER MY CURRENT PROJECT”, you can substitute:
“I HAVE A COUPLE OF PROJECTS I’M CONSIDERING.”
Note the similarity to “I have a couple of projects on the go.” The vital aspect of both is ambiguity. You can’t appear to be actually working on two things at once, or nobody will ever hire you again, for fear that you might bail out on them in the middle of a project due to other commitments. Promising to commit to more than one thing at a time, then bailing on all offers except the most attractive one, however, is a cherished and time-honoured show business tradition. It applies equally well to an entertainer’s work and personal relationships.
“I’M THINKING ABOUT DOING SOME TRAVELLING.”
This is an almost sure-fire subject-changer. Showbiz people love to travel more than any other way of avoiding an honest day’s work. The only trick is to have an answer ready when someone asks you where you’re going. Your best bet is to mention some far-flung part of the world that showbiz people don’t know much about, so they don’t realize that the people there resent lazy, sponging tourists who have nothing better to do than to disrupt everyone else’s honest day’s work every bit as much as the people here do. The entire continent of Africa is fair game, as is much of Asia.
“I’VE GOT SOME GRANT APPLICATIONS THAT I’M WAITING FOR WORD ON.”
The wonderful part of this one is that when your non-existent grants fail to materialize, you can blame the government. That’s a tune that everybody grooves to, showbiz or no showbiz.
The last one—“I HATE YOUR GUTS”—is a little tricky to find a substitute for. Showbiz conversations contain almost as much thinly-veiled aggression as conversations among academics, or members of church social groups. The challenge is not to provoke an open confrontation, while still making it clear through the meaning embedded in your message, that you consider the other person essentially beneath contempt. A simple “I’M SORRY—I CAN’T REMEMBER YOUR NAME” can keep things from turning into High Noon by making it seem as though the other person isn’t important enough to you to be remembered, much less hated. There is a danger in over-using this one, though, because show business types come into contact with enough other people that they often forget the names of some of the ones they actually like. Three other ways of saying “I hate you” are much more effective:
“SORRY—I FELT A BUZZ—I’M WAITING FOR A CALL FROM MY AGENT. I GOTTA TAKE THIS.”
This is an up-to-date, high-tech, and extremely useful way of dismissing and belittling someone you don’t like. As a brush-off, it has the old-fashioned technique of “looking into the middle distance and pretending to see someone more important that you have to talk to” beat by a mile. Invoking a fictional agent has the added advantage of making it seem as though you’re more worth considering for work than the person you’re talking to.
A variation on this is the old reliable “OH—HEY—I WAS GOING TO CALL/WRITE/E-MAIL/TEXT YOU, BUT…ONE THING AND ANOTHER…AND, WELL, YOU KNOW, LIFE …” This is best delivered sheepishly, haltingly, with the same tone of voice you’d use to address a priest, rabbi, or other member of the clergy who’s just seen you coming out of a bordello with your fly down. This tactic elicits sympathy, and puts a person you really don’t want to talk to on the defensive long enough for you to run for cover before all hell breaks loose.
If all else fails, the gold standard for expressing show business hatred is still the tried-and-true “I SAW THAT THING YOU WERE IN.” Not following that statement with instant, fulsome, glowing praise is a universal showbiz code. It means that the phrase that should be read into the silence is “and it was awful.” A friend will recognize the silence as their cue to reply along the lines of “Oh, God—wasn’t it awful?” while denigrating their own performance, talent, intelligence, sanity, weight, fashion sense, and any other aspects of themselves they deem germane to the subject. This becomes your opportunity to come back with “no, you were great in it” (whether you thought so or not), and pile on the compliments. An enemy in show business, on the other hand, will know you’ve just delivered the verbal equivalent of a rabbit punch using a lead-lined boxing glove with a scarcely-concealed horseshoe in it, and find something else to talk about, unless they feel like trading actual punches with you. The catch is that every now and then you meet someone you really can’t stand who thinks you’re their best friend. My best advice is to go with the flow and compliment them as if they were your friend when they start telling you how awful the project was, and they were for being in it. You might actually find yourself making another friend out of the whole deal.
If none of the three above conditions (lack of current work, lack of future work, extreme personal hatred) applies to your situation, you may simply wish to terminate your conversation with a show business person (friend or foe) due to sheer boredom. In that case, the ultimate ‘abort’ button for a showbiz conversation is a simple “I’VE BEEN BUSY LATELY WORKING ON MY GRADUATE THESIS.” This doesn’t have to be true, but it sends the message that what you’re about to say involves extremely specialized, probably extremely dull knowledge that will reveal an area of the other person’s ignorance. Show folk don’t mind you reminding them that they’re ignorant, as long as you can entertain them while you’re doing it.
And here we stop, since Mr. Cousins has yet to defend the thesis in question (which has something to do with how someone who once met Peter Sellers invented the modern world by proxy, or some such). Common sense prohibits us from leaving ammunition lying around in a public place for his examiners to use to blast holes in his monograph at a later date. Those of you who wish to collar him and beg a brief précis of the current state of his research can catch up with him a couple of months hence after one or other of his performances of The Best Audience Ever at the IndyFringe Festival in Indianapolis. Find your way to the Cook Theater in the Indiana Landmarks Center at any of the following dates and times, and all will be revealed:
Saturday, August 20, 4:30 p.m. |
Sunday, August 21, 3:00 p.m. |
Wednesday, August 24, 9:00 p.m. |
Thursday, August 25, 6:00 p.m. |
Friday, August 26, 7:30 p.m. |
Sunday, August 28, l0:30 p.m. |
I’ll be there…apparently, I’m in the show. Sparky is as well, so I guess it’s time I had another look to see which mound of paper the first drafts of our dialogue may be poking out of.
I leave you then, with the traditional entertainment industry valediction, “may your residual cheques arrive in time to pay for your funeral.”
Uncle Fun
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