Starry-Eyed (36 page)

ANECDOTE: LEA SALONGA

You'd think that the audition was the start of everything . . . the genesis, the “big bang” of an actor's career. With how the audition is one often-spoken-of step in the process of casting a show (and possibly launching someone into superstardom), it would seem as though it all starts here.

No, it does not.

There is no one actual first step (much like no two people have the same fingerprints or hair color). Everyone's story begins in very different ways. I can't speak for how others began their journeys, but I can speak about my own.

According to my mother, my journey began at the age of three. As a child, she said that I would stand on top of the coffee table and sing, using the plug of a nearby lamp as a pretend microphone. Whenever my cousin Betsy came over to babysit me, she'd whip out her guitar and teach me a few pop songs. It's strange, but I remember “We May Never Love Like This Again” performed by Maureen McGovern, and “Have You Never Been Mellow” recorded by Olivia Newton-John. My mother actually recorded those renditions on cassette, but unfortunately, we no longer have those early recordings. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Since it was quite easy to convince me to get up in front of other members of my very large family, another cousin took notice. Ria, who was at the time very active with a local theater group, Repertory Philippines, suggested to my mother that maybe, just maybe, I should be brought to audition for Rep's upcoming production of
The King and I
.

My memory of this actual audition is quite selective. I remember standing on the stage at the Insular Life Auditorium . . . reciting my Girl Scout Oath in lieu of a prepared monologue or a nursery rhyme . . . and
feeling very, very comfortable.

The next memorable audition came for another of Rep's big musical productions,
Annie
. By then I was a veritable veteran with a few plays and musicals under my belt. I was told to prepare “Tomorrow” for the audition, and so with unrelenting commitment, I played the song over and over again to make sure I was absolutely ready. I made sure I memorized my song (I also prepared “Maybe” just in case another one was asked for) to avoid anything untoward on the day.

Oh, the day. I have no idea how it happened, but I had major allergies the day of my audition (I can't remember if I ate something or took medication that provoked an attack, but there it was). My eyelids were very swollen (I looked like bees had stung them), and I may have had some trouble breathing. But since this was the only audition day, I was not about to miss it. My mother wasn't going to let an opportunity like this slip by either.

My name was called . . . I got up onstage . . . and I opened my mouth to sing “Tomorrow.” Those few minutes went by like a blur . . . the next thing I knew, the whole house was on its feet in front of me. I don't know why the audience gave me a standing ovation: for my actual singing ability, or for the fact that I didn't let an allergy attack stop me from making this moment come true.

Yes, there were more auditions that followed (including the one that would ultimately change my life and career, the audition for
Miss Saigon
), and while I remain active as an actor, there will be more. I'll win a few, I'll lose a few, but that's the name of the game. However, as I prepare for all of the ones coming up, I'll always remember those first few . . . and those early dreams and songs that got me there.

L
EA
S
ALONGA
is a singer and actress who is best known for her Tony Award—winning role in
Miss Saigon
. She has also won the Olivier, Drama Desk, Outer Critics Circle, and Theatre World Awards. On Broadway, she has starred in
Flower Drum Song
, and was the first Asian to play Eponine in
the musical
Les Misérables
on Broadway. She returned to the beloved show as Fantine in the 2006 revival.

Lea began her career in the Philippines, making her professional debut at the age of seven in the musical
The King and I
. She went on to star in productions of
Annie, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Fiddler on the Roof, The Rose Tattoo, The Sound of Music, The Goodbye Girl, Paper Moon
, and
The Fantasticks
. Lea was also the singing voice of Princess Jasmine from
Aladdin
and Fa Mulan for
Mulan
and
Mulan II
. In honor of her portrayal of the beloved princesses, Disneyland has bestowed the honor of “Disney Legend” to Lea.

To learn more about Lea, please visit her at
www.leasalonga.com
.

TUESDAY AT MIDNIGHT

Nina LaCour

To: Monica Livingston

From: Tori Fields

Date: 9/14/2013

Dear Monica,

Thirteen minutes after the seventh-period bell rang, I realized what the problem was. You say that I rush into things, tell you stories without giving you the context. You said it to me like it was something cute that I do, but I know (for a fact, actually) that it annoys you. I wonder how many of the other compliments you gave me weren't really compliments at all. It makes me sad to think about it. Okay. The context.

I finished the screenplay last month. You know how I'd been having trouble with the ending? Well, it finally came to me—the perfect solution, something that wouldn't seem too tidy but that would still satisfy. I hate that feeling, don't you? When the screen goes black and you're like,
what
? So it came to me: what would happen to Claire, where I would leave her. I wrote all through the end of world history and only felt a tiny bit guilty when Ms. Hendricks thanked me for taking such thorough notes when really I missed every word that she said.

There are still three main characters: Sophie and Eric and Claire, with Sophie at the center of the love triangle. Or, I don't know, at the top piece of it. At the pointiest point. The story is about love and friendship and the everyday agonies of high school. That sounds melodramatic but
it isn't. I wanted to write a screenplay that felt real. I think I pulled it off.

We held auditions after school, so that brings us to the end of seventh period again. I didn't go straight into Mr. Samson's room where everyone was gathering. I thought that could be awkward since obviously I'm the one making the final casting decisions even though Mr. Samson makes the announcements, so instead I sat outside on the bench under the climbing vine that was specked with bright pink flowers and I made a list of what I wanted in a Sophie. I intended to write lists for Eric and Claire too, but I got hung up on Sophie and then ran out of time. The list included a lot of things. Black hair; dark eyes; slender wrists and ankles; delicate ears good for hair tucking; soft lips good for close-ups of kissing; a face capable of sarcasm, withering glances, and effortless cruelty. Also kindness and sincerity and openness. The kind of beauty that makes your bones ache.

Fifteen minutes passed while I was dreaming up the perfect Sophie. Matt (who gets to be cinematographer this year) was setting up his camera to film the auditions and the actors were assembling and rehearsing their lines and assessing one another. And then I put my notebook away and walked in to find all the usual people, sitting in a neat row: Kim and Samantha and Aubrey and Leah and Michelle and the rest of them. So many of the drama girls were auditioning for Sophie. And even though there were so many really great actors to choose from, I got this sinking feeling, this desperation. The problem became clear: none of them were you.

I know that you don't really want to hear from me, even though I never hurt you in any way. I hope that you are liking your new school and not missing it here too much. I'll stop texting and emailing you. I just wanted you to know.

Love,

Tori

Note written during 4th period, 9/18/13

Sean!!!

I thought about texting you but I didn't want your phone to get confiscated by Ms. Heung again. And plus, this news is too special for a text. You know all those times you said I was totally gonna get the part? Well, you were right.

I GOT THE PART!

I really need to trust you more and doubt myself less. Like, when I was rehearsing my monologue, and you said, “Babe, you're amazing,” I shouldn't have said, “Do you really think so?” I should have said: “I know!” Because I could actually feel all the things my character was feeling in that moment: powerful and destructive and brave. For 2.5 minutes I was not Sam anymore. I was Sophie. And then, at the audition, I did it again. I knew that I was being a true artist up there, and that everyone else could feel it too. There's no other way to say it: it was magical.

How should we celebrate? I know. Take me out tonight! You can borrow your mom's car again, right?

I hope you aren't going to mind that I'm going to have to get it on with both Lily and Josh. It's totally nonromantic to fool around in front of a camera and the entire crew. I wonder how we're going to do the sex scenes. Eek, maybe I'll have to really be naked! Anyways, I'm so excited for tonight! Hint: I feel like Chinese!

I love you!

Your star,

Sam

To: Monica Livingston

From: Samantha Partridge

Date: 9/18/2013

Hey, Monica!

I hope Utah is awesome! As you might already know, I am to play the part of Sophie in
Tuesday at Midnight
. Since Sophie is based on you, I'm wondering if you'd help me out with something. When you hooked up with Tyler at Erica's party, what was going through your head? Did you not care that you were cheating on Tori? Did you feel like it was wrong but you couldn't help yourself? Or maybe you aren't comfortable being tied down? I'm trying to say this line right: “It's just me. It's the way I am.” I've practiced a lot with different feelings behind it. I can say it tearfully or defensively or confidently, but I want to be authentic, because that's the word that Tori keeps using during rehearsals. She wants us to really feel what we're supposed to be feeling. “Aim for authenticity,” she keeps saying. So I need to know the subtext, all the background stuff, you know. I know you won't mind me asking you this, because you understand the creative process too. The more detail you can go into the better because I really want to understand her/you. I want to give Sophie some humanity.

Thanks!

XOXO!

Sam

To: Bob and Martha Fields

From: Grady Samson

Date: 10/1/13

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Fields:

I hope this little note finds you both well. It's a pleasure to have Tori in my class again. She's just as creative as ever, and this year she is much more focused (due in part, I surmise, to Monica's family's move to Utah). As I'm sure you are well aware, her screenplay,
Tuesday at Midnight
, was chosen by her peers to be our class project this semester. If you have read it, you'll understand the delicacy of my situation. Underage drinking, teen sex, and profanity! The content isn't exactly PG rated.

I don't intend to bore you with the details, but it would be an understatement to say that it takes a battle to the death each year just to keep my film class alive amidst budget cuts and the increasing (and disturbing) privileging of the sciences over the arts. The administration doesn't understand the worth of art; they consider filmmaking frivolous. I ask them, where do you turn when you feel the world getting you down, when you need inspiration, when you need to feel alive again? To a Petri dish? No. You listen to a song that commiserates with you. You look at a painting that moves you. Or you go to a movie, feel that blast of air-conditioning, your skin on the plush seats, lean back, and look at the screen as it lights up with the promise of a story.

I need to tell you something. I wasn't planning on sharing this with you, but I feel for the first time in my twenty-seven-year career that I have found a protégé. In Tori I see an artist. A true filmmaker. Someone who can become what I didn't dare dream I could become when I was in my tender youth. But I digress.

To put it simply, it won't take long for the parents to discover some of the details of this film and go complain to the principal, and then I will be standing in her office getting my hand slapped. (So to
speak.) And after the hand slapping, I will be the one having to break it to these adults that yes, their teenagers drink and have sex and curse and probably more things that we don't even know about, and that no, this movie isn't corrupting their poor young minds, etc., etc.
ad infinitum
. I am writing to assure you that I am behind Tori and her staggeringly beautiful
Tuesday at Midnight
1000 percent. I have never encountered a screenplay that speaks so delicately and honestly about the complexities of youth, of first love and heartbreak. It isn't often that, in the midst of this mind-numbing beige suburbia, a cause worth fighting for arises, but it has arisen, and with it I too, am rising.