10,000 NOs. Matthew Del Negro. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Matthew Del Negro
Издательство: John Wiley & Sons Limited
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Банковское дело
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781119691853
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of these intimidating stints was on The West Wing. While I was eventually cast as Bram Howard, the advance man of Jimmy Smits's Matt Santos character, toward the end of season 6, I had auditioned for a different role two years prior. For that audition, I had made it far enough to eventually read with the show's creator, Aaron Sorkin. Despite having had a nice run on The Sopranos a few years before this, I was a bit scared. The tip from the casting director before I walked into the room was that Sorkin liked it fast, so I would need to pick up my cues and keep the pace at a fast clip. While I wouldn't have considered myself a loyal fan of The West Wing at the time, I had seen enough episodes to know that virtually every character was hyper-articulate and prone to slinging polysyllabic political jargon while marching through the maze-like halls of the West Wing or hotel corridors at a brisk pace—these “walk and talks” quickly became a hallmark of the show and a feature used by many shows since. It was intimidating, to say the least.

      On top of this, while I consider myself to be an intelligent human, I have never been particularly astute when it comes to politics. With an exorbitant amount of preparation, however, I was able to successfully make it through my reading with Sorkin. Knowing that there were only a few other actors in the running, coupled with the fact that they were looking to “cast an unknown” in this role, I actually walked out of that room believing I had a legitimate shot. I was wrong. Rather than offering the role to me or one of the other handful of “unknowns,” they gave it to Matthew Perry, who was fresh off of the smash hit Friends. Such is Hollywood. I was forced to chalk it up as another of my 10,000 “no”s when Perry eventually won an Emmy for his performance.

      Two years later, in 2005, while temporarily in Los Angeles attempting to score a series regular role on a new show during pilot season (the time of year when pilots, a.k.a. first episodes of a new series, are being cast for the following season of TV), I went in again for what was advertised as a one-off guest star role on The West Wing. Again, there was a mountain of political jargon to climb, and my fear of flubbing it helped me to prepare for the audition enough that I was eventually chosen for the role. Ironically, I remember feeling worse coming out of that room than I did after the Sorkin audition two years before. (How an actor feels about their audition does not always correlate to whether or not they get the job.)

      John Hurley, my freshman football coach, ended the first practice of our ninth grade season by surprising the team with an order to take a lap around a tree that was perched atop a very steep hill that sloped down to our practice field. Mistakenly assuming we were done caused me to get a late jump on the run and, having hustled my butt off for the previous two hours, I struggled and came in almost dead last. I specifically remember thinking that maybe I wasn't cut out for this level of play and eighth grade football was my limit. But I stuck it out, stayed around, and had a good season. Building on that freshman year, I had three more good seasons, playing through the end of high school. I also quickly learned Coach Hurley's most famous catchphrase, “Nobody walks on the hill!” He was referring to that steep hill we had to climb after that first practice. Every time we ascended it, from that first practice on, it was drilled into our heads that we could not walk it. Instead, no matter how tired we might be, we had to sprint up.

      But that fear, of being the guy who comes in and turns out to be the fly in the ointment, actually saved me. Knowing that preparation and work ethic were my best weapons against the nerves associated with a high-stakes gig, I threw myself into the prep as soon as I was cast. With limited time for the in-depth research that I'd eventually do, I ran the scenes over and over, drilling the lines frontward, backward, and sideways. I'd run the scenes while I was driving, at the gym, walking around … in an Irish accent, a Southern accent … anything I could do so that I didn't have to think about lines at all once we got rolling. I thought about my character's relationship to the candidate, Matt Santos, and to the other characters as well as to the campaign itself. On my first day on the show, and all through that episode, “La Palabra,” I never faltered. I was prepared, but not overconfident. Other actors, even ones I admired so much, had moments that caused us to have to cut, but I did not.

      I was asked back to The West Wing two episodes later in the season 6 finale, and invited to the end-of-year wrap party. As I was leaving the party to head back to the East Coast, Executive Producer and Director Alex Graves said, “We'll see you at the end of the summer.” I said, “Can you put that in writing?” They called my reps over the summer, guaranteeing me three out of the first five episodes in season 7, and that led to me being a significant player in what turned out to be the show's last season. I stuck around all the way through the series finale, in which my character got his own office in the West Wing.

      My talent helped me in my West Wing experience, but I credit most of that run to my work ethic. I also credit my belief in Coach Hurley's mantra, “Nobody walks on the hill!” My healthy dose of fear, which served as a motivator, was also key. The West Wing material I was given did not exactly allow me to truly stretch my acting muscles. But, much like my time on The Sopranos, which you'll hear about in another chapter, it continues to help me score jobs to this day because it was such a high-pedigree and culturally relevant television show.

      —Melissa Ponzio, Actor, Teen Wolf, Chicago Fire

      When I reflect upon work ethic, I often think of a famous quote from Robert De Niro's directorial debut, A Bronx Tale. After his character's son asks him if he has talent, De Niro tells the kid he has all the talent in the world. This prompts the boy to ask if he can be a pro baseball player someday. De Niro responds, “The saddest thing in life is wasted