Too busy to write my own entry today – I gotta go retrieve my favorite Highlights magazine that I left in a Carl’s Jr. bathroom. But my friend, actor Will Radford, has graciously agreed to step in with a recollection of one of his favorite days in the business. May we all have experiences like this no matter what we do for a living:Sometimes, it's the little things...
In late September of 1998, a pilot episode for a new four-camera sitcom aired on NBC. I was fortunate to have been cast in that pilot. Fairly recently out of school, and still new to the idea of acting as a job, and having already done a few things, this was seemingly just the next step along the way. I'd already done a couple network sitcoms (one of which was a pilot for CBS which didn't air) so I was a bit familiar with the format, and definitely grateful to be working.
I don't remember exactly how many days we worked on this pilot---I think it was maybe eight or nine. I do remember that every day, in addition to table reads, rehearsing, rewrites, and photo sessions for the four series regulars (one of whom I'd previously worked with on that CBS pilot) that members of the "guest cast" (of which I was one) were changing every day. As scenes were added or cut, so were the actors appearing in those scenes. I was just in one scene---the very last one---but fortunately it was with two of the leads. Still, none of us knew from day to day which of us would get voted off the island, so we just all showed up each day and did what was asked of us.
But there was definitely something different about this pilot. One thing I noticed was how nice the accommodations were---little dressing rooms instead of trailers. And the craft service seemed especially upscale. But mostly, what I noticed was the incredible camaraderie between the bunch of us---the regulars and even us little guys who were just there for the episode. We all ate together, hung out together, laughed together---after all, it wasn't really a "show" yet, just a pilot, and we all knew it might never air. But there sure seemed to be a lot of "buzz" about it. We had a very well-known director, and for the last four or five nights after rehearsing, taping, rewriting, etc., the head of the network would personally take all of us in the cast out to Mexicali. Yup, even me---and I was just in the last scene, and who even knew for how long. And he even knew my name!
One day I was standing at the craft service table, and the actor who did those "Joe Isuzu" commercials came up to me and asked me how "your show" was going. Wow. At that point I felt like if Joe Isuzu is coming up to me, I must really be a part of this whole thing. Even if it was just a small part.
Since I had a lot of down time on the set, I found things to keep myself busy. I helped one of the regulars run his lines; after all, they were changing for him on a moment by moment basis as the show was being fine tuned. I hung out with the other regulars and guest cast. And I stood behind the director when he conducted the tech rehearsal with the level of precision smoothness and flawless execution that only comes with having done this kind of thing for many, many years.
Finally, it was show night---like opening night of a play---with a packed house and everyone wishing each other well. And believe it or not, I was still in the show! Of course, they shot the show chronologically, so after several hours of stop and go, retakes, etc., I got to do my one little scene at the end with two of the leads. And it all just went great. We all got called out individually for our sitcom rush-out-and-bow curtain call to the receptive audience's thunderous applause. I even had several people from the audience come up to me afterwards to say hello and congratulations.
Afterwards, I got hugs from everybody, and introduced my girlfriend (she sat there all four hours to get to see me do about a minute worth of work) to the four leads and a few of the others. We all wished each other luck. Then the two of us walked one of the other actresses to her car, got in my car, and left.
After dropping my girlfriend off at her place, I headed home. I already missed everyone. It was one of those good gigs you never forget. It was one of those times when you really felt you were part of the team.
Well, not only did the pilot get picked by NBC for it's Thursday night lineup, but it continued to be a blessing to me. Yes, I was there when it aired, in the last scene. A week before it aired, I got a call from someone I knew congratulating me for being in the show. "How did you know I did that show?" I asked. "Because there's a big color picture of you and two of the leads on the cover of the Sunday New York Times Arts & Entertainment section as one of the new hot shows."
I went down to the local newsstand. Damn!! She was right. I bought like eight copies...
That tiny scene I did opened a lot of doors for me---and right near the beginning of me thinking of myself as a possible "working actor." It led to other work, a new agency, stuff like that. I still had a day job at the time, and over my desk, taped to the wall, was the NY Times photo---just in case anyone wondered why I'd have to leave work from time to time in the middle of the day. I guess it was kind of like my "license to leave for auditions."
The show went on to be a well-known series. And for some reason, this pilot episode got a lot of play. Of the things I've done so far, it's had the most reruns. It even had a lot of those great primetime network reruns we all love so much. For several years, NBC would run it in the summertime as like a "where it all started" special. A documentary about the series was eventually made by Lifetime, and (can you believe it) my scene was in that too---and I even got paid for it!!
But the funniest part of the whole thing to me is that, back when I was originally called in to read for it, I think they told me the title of the new show, but for some reason I either didn't hear it or it just didn't register. The CD had cast me in that CBS pilot before, and so I just showed up at the producer session, picked up the sides there, and just went in and did it. Although it wasn't a funny part, I think I got a chuckle or two from the two writer/producers and the CD. Then I was off.
On the drive home I stopped at a payphone to check my voicemail messages. I'd just left the CD's office fifteen minutes before, but now I had a message to call them back, which I did. For some reason that day, I'd really been thinking a lot about the word "grace"---one of my favorite words. When the associate came on the phone she said, "Congratulations, Will!! You booked the pilot---the role of Henry, the bar patron." She said she'd be calling my agent, and to expect a call from wardrobe in a few days.
"That's great!!" I shouted. "Thanks for having me in again!!" then, just as I was about to hang up, I asked her, "By the way---what's the name of the show?"
"It's called Will and Grace," she said.
And who says God doesn't have a sense of humor??
Years ago, a gentleman I know who'd been an agent at ICM was advising me---"Will, it's better to do a small part on a big show, than to do a big part on a small show." I've done both, and stuff in between, and it's all good. But this definitely fits what he was saying. I guess it's all about loving what you do, and hopefully getting to do what you love. It's really all about grace...
