Bryan Cranston was equally as clueless about rock climbing as me, until he auditioned for a commercial for Mars bars which required him to repel down a large rock. In his book, A Life in Parts, he wrote about fabricating his repelling experience to a casting director. He wound up getting a callback, in which he had to demonstrate some skills. He panicked, then asked a total dude working at an outdoor gear store to give him a crash course:
I met Chad up at Chatsworth Rocks, not far from my boyhood home. He pointed to the top of a boulder about forty feet high. “This stone is choice ’cause it’s got some gnarly vertical,” he said. We ascended four stories up. Chad tied a thick climber’s rope to a large boulder, then gave me a crash course before having me go the bottom of the rock to watch him. He descended effortlessly, springing off the face twice before floating gently to the ground. Totally gnarly.
Then it was my turn. I had to gather all my courage just to hear Chad’s instructions. Both of my hands clutched the rope in front of my body and I wasn’t perpendicular to the rock. Instead, I was dangling, my face so close to the rock I could kiss it. Chad tried to assure me I wasn’t going to die. I stared at my hand and mentally commanded it to move. It didn’t. I felt a chaos spreading throughout my body. I was having a panic attack. I stared down at my hand and gave it one more stern command: MOVE, GODDAMN IT!
Surprise! It did. My hand swung around back and grabbed the line behind me. I let the line out and back-stepped down the rock toward the ground. I made it, but in a sickening flash I had a desperate feeling in my bowels. I told Chad I needed to run back to my car. “Forgot something,” I said.
I made it halfway back to the car before I got the feeling I was about to be opened up like the chest-bursting scene in Alien. I found a secluded spot and dropped trou.
I returned to the rock and made my way down it easier. The third time down I was shrieking like a child in a bounce house.
Two days later, I was at the callback, up against four other guys. The casting session was held outside a three-story building. The first actor peered down, fearful. He took halting, stuttering steps down the face of the building. The producers and director whispered to each other and shook their heads in dismay.
The second guy tried to outdo his predecessor by yodeling a few times, but his maneuvering was lethargic. The producers and director started to panic. My turn. I knew what they wanted, so I said, “I see the guys are using a double gold line through their figure-eight descenders. Is it alright if I hook up with a single?” They had no idea what I was saying. I barely knew what I was saying.
I leapt backward off the ledge. After getting some significant air, I hit the middle of the building’s face like a bull’s-eye. I reloaded my legs and pushed off, soaring high into a 360-degree turn and landing back on the building. The part was mine. I knew it.Here’s Bryan’s commercial:
Two weeks later, I received directions to the location where we’d shoot the commercial. I shook my head. Chatsworth Rocks. I was a little cocky now, and as we were getting ready to roll, I told the producers, “You’re not going to believe this, but Chatsworth Rocks is where I first learned to repel.”
