Poor Man's Version

2011-03-21T22:56:00.001-04:00

That's all he poorly wrote...

2008-04-04T16:04:00.000-04:00

Well we've come to the end of our journey. What started as an exercise, morphed into a fun little diversion, got phoned in quite a few times...and now here we are.

I've made a few online friends thanks to this blog. Most of the readers here I know, but this guy from clear across the country started visiting (why? I have no idea). He's stumped the Poor Man before, and today, my final post will feature my greatest triumph...wherein I completely failed him again. It all goes a little like this.

Mr. Berg writes:
it's that time ag'in.

i.d. the character actor/pmv based solely on a terribly vague description.

here we go.

i'd say this guy is the poor man's richard 'jaws' kiel.

appears to have a touch of acromegaly. i've seen him play tough guys/mob enforcers, usually in horrible comedies. one time, i think he was teamed with the guy who played 'eugene' in grease.

walks with a pronounced limp. usually wears a fedora.

can you do it?

can you identify this man?

i am sure you can.

My reply:
I'll get on the case. Gimme a little time though - big shake-up around
here. Very good friend from back in the high school days died. Going
to his funeral this weekend.

But he would've wanted me to look into this.

Top of my head was Clancy Brown.

But I know it's not him. I also
thought Paul Benedict,

but I don't think it's him either.

I'll find it. Eddie Deezen couldn't have made that many movies.

I ended up mising the funeral due to pink eye. But it's true. This friend would've wanted me to look into this.

MB then offered:
the gigantism/monster like jaw may be the key.

I did a little research and came up with:
I'm 99.999999% sure this is the guy. I'm only .000001% unsure because it's so freakin' hot & humid today.

Jack O'Halloran (Edit: you may remember him as Non from Superman 2)

I thought I nailed it. I had solved the case.

Not so.

MB writes:
sorry to say, it's not him.

i wish it were "non" - but my guy has more of a genetic issue, like richard kiel. big broad forehead, oversized jaw, a limp. and i could have sworn i saw him with deezen - possibly with bruce mcdonald from the kids in the hall as well. when i saw him with deezen, they were playing a pair of mob enforcers or something.

if my guy is the poor man's richard kiel, his poor man would be the guy who played drop johnson in miller's crossing. (edit: I couldn't find Mario Todisco's picture)

this is going to be a tough filbert to bust.

3 hours later, MB writes:
i got it.

want to know? or should i leave you with a little diversion?

I respond:
Ach!

I thought for sure it'd be him. He's got the Deezen credit. Saw a pic
of him in a fedora. Turned down the role of Jaws that Richard Kiel
eventually got. Broke his back on Superman II, so I assumed he walks
with a limp.

I'm tapped out. It's been a hell of a week. I'm ashamed of my 0-2
record with you.

Don't leave me hanging. Please spill the beans.
(And funny you mention Miller's Crossing, because that's one of the
first movies I thought of, but couldn't get a clear enough picture of
anyone.)

MB then delivers the news with a link to this man's website:

Mr. Irwin Keyes.

Allow Mr. MB to explain where this all came from:
ah yes. so so close.

you and i were on the same path but taking different journeys. i tracked down my man in 'silence of the hams', even though 'mob boss' was probably the film in which i was picturing him. who could ever imagined that he and deezen did two movies together? sort of a bizarro devito and schwarzenegger i guess. dare i say a poor man's version?

this particular mad search began with a simple irwin keyes sighting - the boys and i spotted him limping in for chow at the breakfast place we hit on the weekends. after we finished eating, just moments after laying eyes on big irwin, as we walked to our car, my son jack was nearly trampled by a paparazzo chasing the rabid pack of his peers who were in turn chasing britney spears, who was also walking to her car from the starbucks on the other side of the shopping center. watching the scene unfold - and it was a wild scene - for some reason, i flashed to the mystery character actor who was, at the exact same time, anonymously enjoying a plate of eggs just a stone's throw from this factory created no-talent whose inexplicable fame was causing parents to pull their children closer for fear they'd be flattened by some amphetamine-fueled brazilian with a camera.

and now here we are.

And now here we are.

So while I didn't get it right, I will say this is my proudest moment of PMV'ing. Because I learned something that day (cue: "learning something" music). It's about the destination, it's about the journey. And the past 2+ years have been a great journey.

Thanks.

So now I sign off my final post with my true identity.

Hearts & Kisses,
Jack Elam

Blackwater is the poor man's Squeezebox

2008-04-03T22:00:00.003-04:00

Can you guess the connection?

Like a previous post, this one is about mommas. God, rockers were such pussies.

Actually, rockers are still pussies.

On a lighter note, I shot an AT&T industrial today. Yup, my brilliance is gonna be seen by nearly dozens of AT&T corporate drones in India. Just so you know, I brought my A-game.

Tomorrow: the final post.

W.K.R.P. is the poor man's W.N.Y.X.

2008-04-02T08:55:00.001-04:00

You know what's funny? Finding out how much I owe in taxes. You know what's even funnier? Me & the Poor Woman were thisclose to getting out of debt.

Jill Eikenberry is the poor man's Catherine Hicks

2008-04-01T11:20:00.000-04:00

Wow! Way to stay current, Poor Man.

I finally booked a gig. An industrial that shoots later this week. This is nice, because I was once real close to getting out of debt. But not anymore.

D.W. Griffith was the poor man's C.B. DeMille

2008-03-31T00:03:00.001-04:00

This is it, kids. Our last week at the PMV blog. I'm sort of sad to see it go, but not really. I've made good friends, met the occasional stalker, traded obscenities with a few punk-asses and contributed a scene for an online movie for very nice person.

Now I am free of the flu, and ready to end this thing with a bang. So I'll do so by referencing two of the hottest directors tearing up all the internet blogs.

Dennis Quaid is the poor man's Harrison Ford

2008-03-28T10:53:00.000-04:00

(contributed by Dan)

Addendum: Randy Quaid is the poor man's bat shit crazy.

Sliders is the poor man's Quantum Leap

2008-03-27T10:39:00.000-04:00

What can I say? I dig Dean Stockwell.

Corey Hart is Paul Young

2008-03-26T08:43:00.000-04:00

No poor man's version here. This is the same guy. The accent's fake.

The insurance I have right now kind of sucks. Our plan switched providers in January. They opted to go with the provider that charges more money for less service and benefits. Good for them. I'm getting the Poor Woman and I on a new plan that goes into effect April 1. Why I chose to get the flu before then, I'll never know.

2 for Tuesday: Nora Ephron is the poor man's Elaine May

2008-03-25T10:01:00.000-04:00

Out sick with the flu means 2 for Tuesday for you.

Yeah, not all these back-logged entries were winners.

2 for Tuesday: Mare Winningham is the poor man's Mary Stuart Masterson

2008-03-24T10:00:00.001-04:00

I was out sick with the flu yesterday. So here was Monday's entry.

I'm happy to report that after all my medical nonsense, I've learned that my heart is as fit as a fiddle. I'm even happier to report that my chest no longer looks like this.

Trinity is the poor man's Ursa

2008-03-21T14:28:00.000-04:00

Ahhh, Ursa. Don't you see? Your absolute hatred of men only made you hotter.

As an actor, I've come up with some interesting theories regarding how I've landed the jobs I've booked. For the first couple of years I'd always book the majority of commercials in August & December. So that meant those were my golden months. I was destined to book a load of work in those months. Then came the year I didn't book anything in those months at all. Last year I booked a promo before I booked any commercial work. Does that mean that this year I have to book a promo before I get any commercials? I just did pretty well at a TV Land promo audition, but I'm sure they're going to go for the guy with the wacky hair. I do not have wacky hair. I'm just me.

Sometimes it can be frustrating to try to make sense of a business not designed with sense in mind. I've booked jobs I had no right getting, and I've been shafted out of that perfect role. It has nothing to do with me, I know, but it still blows when you haven't booked anything in a few months. Which is my case now. Only so long one can live off residuals. You gotta keep the coffers fresh with income.

Lately I've been the callback king, but just not booking anything. That gets a little frustrating. Recently I got real close to booking a voiceover gig, and now the voiceover department at my agency is sending me out more often than the on-camera dept. I don't see myself as a voiceover guy. It's a very small world, and while I know a few of the people in it, I still feel like a guest. So I've been working with a coach to get over myself and my insecurities and just learn how to audition in front of a microphone. When you get right down to it, it's kind of the ideal job. No make-up or wardrobe to deal with, no insanely early call times. You go into a booth, work your vocal magic and leave. The longest v.o. job I've ever had was about an hour. And that was one of those History Channel narration things. My favorite part of that job is the saying of the person's name after reading their quote. Everyone's voice gets all low and self-important. "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. (pause, inflect gravitas) Franklin Delano Roosevelt."

Yesterday was a crazy audition day. I ran into so many people I knew or knew of. It was crazy. First there was Zach Galligan (most notably from Gremlins) at my audition. I used to have a crush on Phoebe Cates, and I thought Zach had the best job in the world because he got to kiss her. Now I didn't go up to him and tell him this because: 1. he's probably heard it enough, 2. how would you like to be remembered almost exclusively for something you did 24 years ago, 3. he was preparing for his audition and didn't need the interruption, and 4. how would my inane gushing help him through his day?

Then I ran into a friend of mine at a voiceover audition down the hall. You've seen Matt a bit on soaps and a few commercials recently. He's a dude. After I saw him, yet another celebrity from my youth came in. He knew Matt and Matt knew him. We all chatted a bit. The world became too small for my brain to comprehend. Then I see Kelly Coffield (from In Living Color, but also much more) at another voiceover audition down the hall. The I run into an actress I haven't seen in 10 years. I moved to NYC almost 11 years ago, and when I got here I hit the ground running by producing and acting in a play. She was in the cast. Very talented and nice to work with. It was 10 years ago this month that my first production went up in NYC. And here we were, 10 years almost to the day that the show opened. It was great catching up.

Finally, I'm at another audition, and I run into a guy I knew of because I had just seen his work. He had worked with some other people I knew as well, so I just went up to him (in the men's room) and told him how much I liked the project I saw. Awkward, yes. I'm kind of socially inept at times.

Which is why I blog.

And why you blog too.

Lynne Thigpen was the poor man's S. Epatha Merkerson

2008-03-20T09:20:00.001-04:00

"Let's get down to it boppers."

Hope Davis is the poor man's Laura Linney

2008-03-19T23:20:00.000-04:00

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Meg Foster is the poor man's Kirstie Alley

2008-03-18T02:30:00.000-04:00

Did anyone else see the PBS version of The Scarlet Letter and wonder what the hell was up with Kirstie Alley's eyes?

William Fichtner isn't the poor man's Will Arnett, but may be the same person

2008-03-17T10:19:00.006-04:00

Even though they were both in Blades of Glory notice that they are never onscreen at the same time!

BONUS PIC:
The Poor Woman came up with the idea of posting pics of friends who look alike. Since then I've posted only twice on this subject. Probably because I don't carry around my camera with me, and my cell phone takes crappy shots. But this is worth posting. Yesterday we're on the subway and these two gentlemen get on. The Metrosexual Ebony & Ivory! From their caps on their bald heads to their designer shoes, these guys were the photo negative of each other. The picture doesn't do it justice, but know this: each man's jacket was the color of the other's skin.

And that's just too precious.

Play the Poor Man's Version home board game!

2008-03-14T08:41:00.004-04:00

There are a few orphans in the Poor Man's universe. People who I couldn't quite figure out (or completely forgot to figure out).

Do they have a poor man's version? Are they a poor man's version?

You decide.

Daniel Roebuck

Michael J Pollard

TK Carter (from his Punky Brewster days)

Send me your suggestions, and I'll post them.

UPDATE: Simon "Moe Berg" Metz thinks Daniel Roebuck may be the poor man's Anthony Heald.

I'm not entirely sure. If Mr. Heald was more...uhhhh...how should I put this...doughy, then maybe.

Stephanie Zimbalist was the poor man's Jane Badler

2008-03-13T09:22:00.001-04:00

When I was younger and saw V for the first time, I wondered why Stephanie Zimbalist was doing it for me all of a sudden.

Because she was Jane Badler.

Ms. Badler, my inner 12-year-old hormonal geek thanks you.

Post Baby-Boom Fashion is the poor man's Pre Baby-Boom Fashion

2008-03-12T10:38:00.003-04:00

Mark my words, the baby boomers will find a way to take credit for the 1920's.

American Dreams is the poor man's Wonder Years

2008-03-11T11:18:00.000-04:00

Not all of these backlogged posts were great ideas.

Andrian Belew's Salad Days is the poor man's Billy Bragg's Back to Basics

2008-03-10T11:32:00.001-04:00

So this comparison is about musicians stripping down their sound and just playing their hit songs with as little production as possible. I listened to Billy Bragg throughout college when I thought it'd be fun to be a socialist. Especially one with an electric guitar. Then I realized being a socialist is more fun when you have some money squirreled away. And right now I wish I had squirreled away $4,400 last year for the IRS (Stone Bloodletting Division).

How the hell were we supposed to live off $4,400 less last year?!?!?

FYI: "Never Enough" is a good track off of the Belew album.

Schooled

2008-03-09T14:14:00.000-04:00

I had another class (w/ a pretty big TV casting director) on Saturday. Been in kind of a funk about these classes lately, and if they're worth it at all, so I really didn't prepare as much as I should have.

Big mistake.

Long story short: I kinda sucked. The casting director, fortunately, knows that I could have done better. But that's not exactly the impression I wanted to leave with her. The kind of work I did is fine for commercials, but it won't help me land TV & film roles.

To make matters worse, there was another guy in the class (who would probably be my same type) and he was fucking flawless. But that's what happens when you do the preparation. And I did not do the preparation like I should have. I have too many distractions, and absolutely no will power to focus.

One day I'd like to make it onto the very list I created, and be the poor man's version of some big-shot actor (and not of some guy who kicked my ass in an audition class). So in an effort to reduce distractions and get back on track I will be closing up shop here at Poor Man's Version. I have 20 entries stored up, which I will post Mon-Fri for the next four weeks. The 358th and final post will happen April 4.

Thanks to all who've stopped by, friends both old and new.

I've figured out what's up with Mickey Rourke

2008-03-05T17:16:00.003-05:00

He's been trying to become Bizarro Judge Reinhold.

Having a bitter actor moment right now. Just saw up close and personal the work of some folks with better careers than me (according to imdb, that's anywhere between one and two million; imdb doesn't count commercials, you see). I'd like to meet the wet paper sack these people were finally allowed out of because they couldn't act their way out of it.

I know that doesn't make sense.

grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Can't sleep. Must blog.

2008-02-29T00:16:00.002-05:00

Random thoughts swimming in my head.

So I had a meeting today that went better than expected. It looks like a show that I am helping to create has passed the first round of pitches and is going into the 2nd and final round on Monday. I'm working on a title. So far I've got...well, you'll just have to wait for that. If it makes it onto the TV, you're gonna have to subscribe to the channel. As of now I think there are 14 subscribers.

The owners of the Ferrari Driving School have the last name of Pinto.

I'm picking up my ukulele again after abandoning all music for well over a year. After I get my fingers limbered up on the uke, I'll move back to the guitar. Then I will upload tons of witty, silly songs that I wrote about the Ferrari Driving School and those fabulous Pintos. (or is it Pintoes?)

Apparently I'm the callback king right now, but the only thing I booked was a student film. Student films suck because they only film in the winter (in order to have a completed movie for the spring). You are hearing it from me now - no more student films. I don't need any more student footage for my reel. What I do need is a freakin' break and a L&O credit. Who's mother do you have to blow to get on any one of those three shows?

I was on 1st refusal for a job in Orlando this week. Didn't get it. I'm on 1st refusal for a job in Miami next week. I'd like to be warm for a while.

Playing the ukulele after a year off makes your fingers tingle.

Tina Majorino is the poor man's Jena Malone

2008-02-27T11:24:00.004-05:00

Don't cry, Jena. You won.

I'd like to thank Mr. Heaney over at Heaneyland for bringing this to my attention. One of the greatest ideas I've seen in a long time.
Garfield Minus Garfield

My Oscar re-cap is the poor man's everyone else's Oscar re-cap

2008-02-25T15:44:00.005-05:00

We had a few friends over for Oscar night. Here are the highlights...

I wore Michael Morgan, and then Old Navy (I'll explain in a sec).
A friend of ours works for Vanity Fair, and since they weren't having their party this year, we got a few of their treats (chocolte Oscars and engraved[?] apples - see photo).
We set up an Oscar pool at $5 a pop. The tie-breaker question: what time will the first mention of the Writers' Strike happen. My brother and I got it at 8:32 ET (with about 6 seconds to spare).
I did my best grandmother impersonation by dropping food on my shirt (Michael Morgan). Twice (Old Navy).
Our Vanity Fair friend won the Oscar pool. My brother used the tie-break question to beat out Mrs. Poor Man for 3rd place. I came in dead last...which was 6th.
Relatively few snarky comments were made. I like watching the Oscars. I don't expect much from the telecast, nor should anyone else. It's just a show which has developed it's own mini-economy, what with pre-shows, post-shows, parties, catering, swag, etc.
No milkshakes were drunk.

Thanks for the well wishes about my health. I'm doing fine, the tests were just preventative stuff so I don't become one of those folks who travels everywhere in a scooter when I'm old and obese.

Fun fact: chest hair itches when it grows back.

Strike that last post. I am the poor man's Steve Carrell

2008-02-21T23:13:00.003-05:00

So apparently I am older than I thought. I am prone to getting sick and falling apart like an old man. Today was a banner day for the poor man.

I went to the hospital (by appointment) to get my heart checked out. See, I've been getting kind of sick whenever my heart rate goes up. Don't know why. Run around a little bit, throw up. It's fun. Figured I should have the doctor check this out, since I would like to continue exercising and get healthy and whatnot.

God has another plan. He wants me to puke. Just about every time I go to the gym.

OK, not every time, but enough to warrant this visit.

So today was a stress test, ekg and echo cardiogram. The "echo" is basically a sonogram of my heart. I felt like a proud father when I saw my ventricles doing their thing. They are so cute! The technician had hands of ice cold steel (because every room in the hospital is set at 45 degrees), and her touch was exquisitely rough. Just how I like it.

But first things first: after changing into a gown (which didn't fit and was prone to flying open) I waited for about 40 minutes. I wondered if this was part of the stress test, seeing as how I was the only person in the room under the age of 75 and not hacking up a lung. The doctors wanted to see how long I could freeze in a small room wearing nothing but a paper towel (lightly spritzed with old person phlegm) before I gave myself an aneurism.

I'm finally called in (oh, they mispronounced AND misspelled my last name...it's on every file they have of me...because it's so fucking hard to enter into their computer by reading the plain, typed print on my insurance card and having me spell it out for them...six letters...it looks like it sounds...not too hard to pronounce or read...but I digress).

Dennis (the guy getting me prepped and taking my stats) was a cheery lad. From the Ukraine or maybe just deep, deep inside Brooklyn; couldn't tell from his accent. But what was obvious was that this was one of his first days on the job. He was nice enough to not go apeshit every single time an older, and more experienced doctor came in to tell him he was doing some procedure on me wrong. That was nice. One thing I think he did oh so right was prepare my chest for the electrodes. Like a finely tuned machine he lathered up parts of my chest with ice cold water (the hospital must not be paying it's heating bill on time) and proceeded to shave my parts of my chest.

That's sort of what I look like (with less hair on my chest and front of the hairline).

Then, after Dennis shaved my chest, he got up close to those little patches of skin that have been bathed in the comfort and protection of my chest hairs for lo these 20 years or so, and started sandpapering those freshly shorn spots.

Yup, sandpapering makes the electrodes stick better. And you know what, it feels awesome when you pull them off of your skin after it's been roughly shaved (with a plastic razor and cold water), sterilized with alcohol ("this may sting" is a bad, bad phrase) and finally rough-sanded like a breakfast cabinet project on The New Yankee Workshop.

Then I got on a treadmill, ran for a few minutes, got monitored the whole time, and collapsed onto a bed when I got too dizzy and nauseous to continue. After all the beeping chaos subsided I was free to go see Dr. Iron Claw and her echo cardiogram machine.

All in all, a good time. Now we wait to see what the doctor has to say about my results. Until then I have to wear my shirt at all times, because my wife mocks me and my chest.

I am the poor man's Robert Joy????

2008-02-20T10:11:00.003-05:00

I haven't booked a job in a while, and the money's getting tight. I'm really counting on winning the Oscar pool to help me pay off my health insurance premium.

So I see this commercial on the TV yesterday with Mr. Robert Joy. I remember him from Desperately Seeking Susan, and I think he's playing a medical examiner on some crime show now. I was up for this commercial too. When I went in for the callback, I saw it was for a director I had worked with before (he shoots almost every commercial you've ever seen). He's up there when it comes to commercial directors, and I always choke when I'm at one of his callbacks. (don't know why, mental block or something) But this time was different. I was on. I was funny. I was relaxed.

And apparently I was 20 years too young. Mr. Joy got the part.

So I don't feel too bad about not getting this. I just wasn't what they were looking for. I've got a callback for another commercial today. If the part goes to Paul Newman, I'm gonna have a talk with my agent.

Tracey Walter is the poor man's William Sanderson

2008-02-19T09:10:00.000-05:00

This is a tough call. One the one hand you have Walter in Repo Man (among many other roles).

On the other, Sanderson has been in Blade Runner, Deadwood and Newhart (athough his character became the New England sitcom equivalent of the Fonz, Kramer and Urkel all rolled into one).

In a more just world, these guys would be getting all the press, not the Lohans, Hiltons and reality show personalities of the world. (Truth be told, I'm addicted to Rock of Love II with Bret Michaels. The finest hour of entertainment anywhere! Trust me.)

Not a poor man's comparison per se...

2008-02-18T12:32:00.002-05:00

...but in a Bizarro, cartoon world, Kim & Kelley Deal are sort of like Patty & Selma Bouvier. I would think that the Deals are much more fun to hang out with though.

Kenneth McMillan was the poor man's Charles Durning

2008-02-12T21:12:00.002-05:00

Don't ask me why, but I've got a song from The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas stuck in my head. It's Charles Durning's song & dance routine as the Governor of TX that's playing over and over in my noggin. I'm not a show tunes type of guy by any means, but this movie played incessantly on cable in the mid 80's, and as we all know: 80's cable TV raised me.

So I had my first audition in a few weeks. Being that I was going out of town for a week, my agent didn't send me out all that much the week before I left. So I'm psyched. I'm tan, feel relaxed, look good (if I do say so myself) and come in with the feeling that I can do anything. The part I auditioned for was for a sickly-looking dude.

Let me repeat, I am tan now. First time since I was 14. I finally don't look like a sickly-looking dude. Granted, the tan will wear off in a matter of days, but for once (thrice, because I'm repeating myself here) I am tan, and I don't look like someone who needs a hot meal and a place to just get my shit together, man.

Oh, and I am so over doing student films. Even the ones that pay me. I think I aged 5 years in one day. And with this killer tan I've got, that's only going to make me look leathery.

Brendan Gleeson is the poor man's Ray Winstone

2008-02-11T10:12:00.000-05:00

So the Mrs. & I got back from Mexico late Saturday evening. Nice to go from 79 degrees to -7.

And I just read that Roy Scheider died. I always dug him. Sad to hear of his death. A few years ago I was on the subway and sitting next to a bunch of German tourists. They were just rambling on and on about something which I was tuning out, until I heard them say the name "Roy Scheider." Their talking got very animated and had me giggling every time they said his name. If you can manage a German accent, please say, "Roy Scheider," out loud. It's fun. I dream of a world where all German conversations are liberally sprinkled with mentions of this fine actor.

Annie Leibovitz is the poor man's Fabio

2008-01-26T08:56:00.000-05:00

One takes good pictures, and the other is Annie Leibovitz. (ba dum bum)

I pinched something in my neck yesterday. Grrrr.

The Night Chicago Died is the poor man's Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia

2008-01-17T14:23:00.000-05:00

Good God, I can't stand either of these songs. Points go to Georgia for being a state, and thus larger than Chicago.

All in all, this is a pretty weak entry.

Myspace is the poor man's Facebook

2008-01-09T15:22:00.000-05:00

I have completely wasted my life today.

In other news...

I'm convinced our cat is a time traveller. He leaps forward in time to see where I will walk around our apartment in my bare feet. He then zips back to our time and strategically places his puke in these areas. I then find these piles of goo (warm or cold, depending on time elapsed) with the cat-puke magnets God has conveniently stored inside my tarsus bones.

I wrote a letter to Time Out New York. I didn't think it was too snarky, but my wife thinks otherwise. Basically, there was this article talking about a great new staging of Twilight Zone episodes at a bar in Brooklyn. I produced a few nights of the very same thing in a theater 3+ years ago, and I got pretty much no write-ups. I wasn't bitching about the new production, just jabbing at Time Out for not helping me out with a great preview. Of course I didn't give away cheap beer, and we all know that all journalists are drunks. So, next time I stage anything there will be free booze on hand.

I swear to God I'm going to do something productive with this day.

Just not now.

Anne Heche is the poor man's Leslie Mann

2008-01-02T11:05:00.001-05:00

Quirky trumps crazy.

So how are your New Year's resolutions going? I'm already stalling on mine (hence the blog entry). I resolved to get the guitar out of mothballs and start writing again. I used to be in a rock band a few years back, and darn it all, I miss it. Even though we were a sort of "joke" band, every now and then we did kind of rock. So I'm re-callousing my fingers and seeing what happens. I woke up this morning with a tune in my head, and immediately started writing. Then I discovered I was writing a song that had already been written. Different key, but still...

Oh, and as for Fantasy Football. I got stomped. 90-59. I knew I would. What makes me feel better is that there was no way I could win. The highest score my team could've gotten was 60. His kicker almost outscored my team. So even though I've gone 9 seasons not placing higher than 4th (out of 12), I've been hooked in once again by this close call to non-sport greatness.

Happy New Year.

Oh Holy Shit...

2007-12-24T22:59:00.000-05:00

Christmas came early for me.

I've been playing Fantasy Football for 10 years now, and for the first time ever, I'm finally in my league's Superbowl. The best part was, I beat the top player of our league to get there. He was a real punk-ass kid.

I am so screwed for next week's game.

Happy Holidays everybody!

Heat Miser is the poor man's Snow Miser

2007-12-21T13:58:00.001-05:00

I can't stand being hot. I grew up in TX where the heat combined with the humidity, the smell of oil (shit), cow manure (more shit) and a thick, bloodthirsty haze of mosquitos. Heat is no friend of mine. Because when it's hot, you can only strip down so much...and you could still be fucking sweating and dying. Environmentally speaking, staying cool via air conditioner is no good, nor is it good for the air it puts out (and you breathe in), all sorts of nasty germs in AC's.

But when it's cold, you can bundle up. Or burn some wood to stay warm. Cold weather means women wear that sexy short skirt/tights/boots combo that I love so much. It means hot chocolate and comfort food and good bourbon. Cold weather keeps us honest.

Mrs. Poor Man is just the opposite. Nothing would make her happier than to lay out on the beach on a 100 degree day, all day.

And yet I was the one who got skin cancer.

So even though Elliott Smith's band was pretty good, they chose the lesser character for their name. Also, Dick Shawn was the voice of Snow Miser, and when I was a kid I thought he was pretty awesome.

Clan of the Cave Bear is the poor man's Quest For Fire

2007-12-14T20:00:00.001-05:00

Early 80's cable made me what I am today.

As for that audition (last post), I haven't been called back...yet. I'm not holding my breath. I once booked a job that I auditioned for 3 months prior, but that's rare. And seeing how this is a Superbowl commercial, if I don't hear from them by Tuesday, I figure they weren't interested. But don't cry for me. I did get called back for 2 other things which I was not right for at all. (I subsequently got released from one of them). I also booked 5 commercials this year, 4 of which are national spots, and I'm still getting paid from a commercial I shot last year. So while I'm not swimming in gold coins and candy, like those greedy, striking writers who hate America (and babies), I won't have to temp again for a good long while. This is the year I actually acted for a living. Remind me again why I was a theater snob for so long out of college?

The Mrs. is out of town for the weekend. I've got a few things to do, but usually when she's gone I let the whole bathing, healthy eating and general upkeep of the apartment kind of slide, and just do as little as possible. I figure, I got a wife now. I don't need to impress anybody.

Tilda Swinton is the poor man's Cate Blanchett

2007-12-11T21:16:00.000-05:00

Circa 1998

There was a time when I thought that Cate Blanchett was one of the busiest actresses in the world. Now I realize it was Tilda Swinton.

I dig Tilda Swinton.

On another note...I had an audition yesterday for a commercial that would play during the Superbowl. Mind you, I was in a Superbowl commercial last year. I played an employee of the company who bought the commercial. I was a 1.3 second blur in the background. It was fun. No one recognized me.

For the most part (and I'm generalizing here) commercial actors don't do much acting. We say lines a few different ways, repeating these words over and over until we're finally mimicking what the director/ad agency/producer/client wants. There's not much of our input in these things. That's not to say all commercials are like this. Just a lot. Many people have been involved in putting together a campaign that costs a ton of money and has been market-tested out the wazoo, so the last thing they need is for some idiot actor (the last person hired on these things) to go screwing with their concept by putting their own stamp on it. Occasionally you can ad-lib, but it doesn't always end up in the commercial. I think it's a ploy used by really good directors to get the actor to feel involved and really commit.

Whatever. There are worse ways to make a living.

That said, I auditioned for a Superbowl commercial yesterday, and I really want it. Usually I want to book a job because getting paid doesn't suck, and it's another step closer to recognizability (which makes getting cast on the next job a tiny bit easier).

I really want this job because it looks like it's going to be a whole lot of fun. It looks like a funny ad. It looks like it'd be fun to shoot. It looks like there's a little bit of acting freedom in it. It looks like a mini movie. Without giving too much away, I'd be running around the city in various situations, dressed embarrassingly lightly (I embarrass easily), and just doing funny things with other funny people. This is the first commercial audition I've been really excited about "artistically" (excuse the pretension) because I'd just get to act like an idiot on film and get paid for it.

I'm not sure if I got a callback or not. The script we worked off of when we were on camera was not exactly what we saw on the storyboard in the waiting room. But even if I don't book this, I'd just like to have a callback on this one. I can't explain it. Booking it would be great, but I'd feel pretty damn good just getting the callback.

Stephen Tobolowsky is the poor man's M. Emmett Walsh...

2007-11-30T10:45:00.000-05:00

...although the gap on this one is closing fast.

Philosophical question: are there any other animals on the planet (other than Man) that knowingly and openly lies to one another?

I rented Stephen Tobolowsky's Birthday Party on DVD the other day. I really wanted to like it more than I did. For those of you who don't know what this is, it's the A+ character actor telling stories about people, places, events in his life. Pure and simple. All this takes place at his home while he prepares for, and then celebrates his birthday party with friends. I enjoyed the stories he told directly to the camera, rather than the ones he "performed" for his audience of guests. Too much actor-y nonsense going on there. But when he engages with you (or the camera) it feels much more intimate, more personal. On the ol' Netflix I gave this 3 stars. I'm thinking of sending this to my folks and telling them to watch the acting/audition stories so they can get a better idea of what I actually do for a living. Booking the commercial is nice, but my job is auditioning, and boy howdy...there's some strange people I work for sometimes.

Gil Gerard is the poor man's Lee Majors

2007-11-21T13:46:00.000-05:00

One of the main reasons I want to be a successful actor on the TV is to help bring back, and participate in, Battle of the Network Stars.

I'm not kidding.

And I wasn't being funny when I said "I'm not kidding."

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and no matter what your celebration entails, just know this. It's the best holiday around.
Christmas is too stressful.
Halloween is for amateurs.
Depending on where you live, you can't get your hands on any explosives for Fourth of July.

But Thanksgiving is the greatest because it is all about eating. It's is the most American of holidays. Except for the original Americans. I love just about everything Thanksgiving promotes: gluttony, sloth and random outbursts of swearing at the Dallas Cowboys (I really hate them).

Each year, the Poor Woman and I celebrate Thanksgiving twice. On the actual day, we do a little volunteering, spend the rest of the day doing this and that and then have a small meal at home. But a few weeks before the blessed day, we hold what has become an annual tradition: "The Turkey Test Run."

It all started years ago when my folks came to visit me and the wife (back when she was the girlfriend). She had never met them before, and they were arriving on Thanksgiving day...at 5pm.

Just in time for dinner.

And they're extremely picky eaters. (If it ain't processed food, they ain't eating it.)

So, wanting to make sure everything went off without a hitch (we'd never made a turkey dinner at this apartment), we threw a test run dinner a few weeks before. We invited friends, and asked them to bring booze. We'd be cooking up everything with all the trimmings. It was a low-key affair (translation: no family = nobody gets drunk and cries about their crappy lives).

We enlisted our good friend, Miss D, to help us out, and she brought along a family recipe for something called "carrot mold." It is by far the greatest tasting thing in the world, especially when mixed on the plate with my chipotle sweet potatoes...but I digress.

The meal went off without a hitch. The 6 or so people there had a great time. We were able to get all the ingredients we wanted at the store with no hassle because no one was celebrating Thanksgiving on the first weekend of November. It was sublime.

Then Thanksgiving came. We got everything my family wanted, cooked it up just right. They arrived (late), and barely touched their food.

Since then Turkey Test Run has gone on to host fantastic meals of up to 17 people. This year was a pot-luck, with all of our friends bringing family recipes. I was in heaven once again. Best holiday ever.

Related to nothing...
When I was a kid I wanted this:

I got this:

which made me feel like this:

Writers are the poor man's...well, writers ain't rolling in dough

2007-11-08T23:35:00.000-05:00

So I'm at this radio audition today. Now for the amount of success I've had on camera, I'm pretty much The Washington Generals when it comes to talking into a microphone. It's a mental block, but one that isn't helping to put money on the table or food in the bank.

Anyway, I'm at this audition, and I look around and see a few great character actors in the lobby.
This guy
This gal

Then I turn around and see this guy (sans moustache).

John Scurti. A hell of an actor and writer, to boot.

Now if you've read any of this blog you know how much character actors mean to me. They are my heroes. Solid people doing solid work. Yet they work miracles. For example, let's say Tom Cruise has been cast as the world's greatest, mild-mannered nuclear cardiologist, and he has stumbled onto a global conspiracy hell-bent on toppling the world. Only Tom Cruise can save us all. If you're a smart producer, you surround Tommy C with people like John Scurti. Working with good character actors is like cooking with the finest herbs picked fresh from your garden. Sure, the meat and potatoes get all the glory, but pay a little more attention to the sage. Damn!

One day, I want to play in this character actor league. And actors who can also write are...well, I'm not an actor who can write. But they're real good-like.

Cut back to the audition. The casting director brought in five of us at a time, and lo and behold Mr. Scurti was in my fucking group! He and I exchanged lines a couple of times, and then I traded roles with another guy. That was it. I made a few mistakes. And then I made a few more.

In my mind however, I sounded like the vocal equivalent of getting pantsed by Meadowlark Lemon. Luckily, I still have that whole "look like a dork on camera" thing to fall back on. But today I was all atwitter just talking to John.

I look back on it, and...I'm positive I had bad breath. I hope I didn't fuck up his read.

Shit.

So support John, and all the other writers out there who just want a fair percentage of residual compensation for their work as it moves onto new media outlets, please read the following. And maybe write to someone about it.

In related news, my good friend (and writer) Josh Cagan has heard from Hollywood.
Here's their take on this whole strike thing.

On another note altogether, you should listen to more Traveling Wilburys. Honestly.

Kyle Chandler is the poor man's Ron Livingston

2007-11-06T17:42:00.001-05:00

I had a little minor surgery last week. Nothing too much. Just my mortality creeping up with it's old man disease shenanigans.

Diane Farr is the poor man's Kim Raver

2007-10-26T12:03:00.000-04:00

According to imdb pro, they are only 22 spaces apart in the star rating.

I've been cathing up on the show Rescue Me. Never saw it until now.

Nothing else is new. The condo going up behind our apartment it now halfway up. It'll soon be 8 stories. Forget lost sunlight, I'll just be happy to not hear the construction every freakin' morning, Saturdays included.

Weekend Observation...

2007-10-20T09:29:00.000-04:00

Not to be in poor taste about a God-damn, awful, disgusting person and the vile situation of this all, but the below picture of that Canadian pedophile captured in Thailand got me thinking.

Is Moby going on tour?

Rick Aviles was the poor man's Luis Guzman

2007-10-18T11:04:00.000-04:00

Ricky Martin is the poor man's Enrique Iglesias

2007-10-17T11:12:00.001-04:00

Because of Anna Kournikova.

And also because his father has loved a lot of girls before.

The Oak Ridge Boys are the poor man's Statler Brothers

2007-10-12T11:58:00.000-04:00

I was born in California, but raised in Texas. My Mom & Dad were raised in Hawaii and Arizona, respectively. We moved to Texas just before I turned six.

One day in, and my mom had affected her southern drawl. It would stay with her until they moved back to California 14 years ago.

My parents are not "Southerners," but we had a good time eating their food, and listening to their music. I had a great time trying to explain why I was in thee-ATE-r instead of football.

So, The Statler Brothers are not from Texas, but they remind me of Texas, especially around the time before I was old enough to drive and control my own tape player. Somehow, these guys found their way into the happy part of my subconscious. I'm not afraid to admit some Jimmy Buffet albums live there too. My parents were parrot-head wannabes. From the Statlers and Buffet, I went straight into Peter Gabriel's early solo stuff. I'd love for someone to explain that jump to me.

Years later, I lived in Portland, OR and started a group theater with some very good friends right out of college. We were awesome, and I can only imagine how much more awesome we'd be if we had the internet back then. We got into a great space in the northern-est part of the city, and were given free reign to turn it into a workable stage for our inaugural season. We built risers for the seats, painted the whole damn inside black, built a tech booth, entrance hallway...basically we created our own little fire hazard. But dammit, it was OUR fire hazard, and it only cost us $200 a month! And we were only a short walk out the back to Burgerville. I can still smell the fast food trash.

So one night my friend, James, and I were prepping the set for our second show, working into the wee hours. We had only two CDs that I remember. The Pulp Fiction soundtrack, and Elliott Smith's "Roman Candle." We listened to them over and over and over. The P.F. soundtrack features a Statler Brothers song, "Flowers on the Wall." Immediately upon hearing this I remember all the energy in the world flooding over me. I could work forever in this doped up rush of spending my time doing what I loved without reserve, while a great, happy song from my younger soundtrack played over and over. James and I happily worked for hours, creating wood-paneled flooring with brown paint and a magic marker. We grinned like idiots and sang along while we put the finishing touches on a pretty believable (but small) bathroom, a closet with a false back (so he could slip out during a scene in the play) a sweet kitchen window and styrofoam panels made to look like a brick wall. We finally left when either the sun came up or we ran out of cigarettes. I had the time of my life that night.

The Poor Woman and I went to Portland in April, so I could show her around to all the places I used to be really poor and crazy. We stopped off at our old space. It's now a coffee shop/health food market. The stage is gone, it's now where the customers sit to munch on their food and coffee, but they kept some of our seats. That made me really, really happy.

Anyway, I hate the song "Elvira."

Elias Koteas is the poor man's Christopher Meloni

2007-10-11T08:03:00.000-04:00

Way back in the '05, the internet was young, and the PMV blog began. Back then, coming up with names and comparisons was carefree, easy. I started a list, and in no time had three month's worth of entries at the ready.

This was one of them.

I hesitated with posting this for a number of reasons, primarily there were no high-res pictures of Elias anywhere back in the '05. You'd google images for Elias, and what you'd get was tons of low-res, tiny frame-captures from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

I couldn't do this to him. So I waited.

Just yesterday Mr. Berg suggested this coupling, I looked it up, and lo and behold: many a new photos of our favorite guy. Personally I think this is an apples/oranges comparison (they just look alike), and in any case I'd reverse this order, but Meloni has the L&O powerhouse behind him...and he's done some pretty damn funny work too.

Vice Versa is the poor man's 18 Again! is the poor man's Like Father Like Son is the poor man's Big

2007-10-10T14:38:00.000-04:00

To leave my remarks on this post would only cheapen it.

Peter Bogdanovich giving an interview is the poor man's Jerry Lewis giving an interview

2007-10-09T11:09:00.000-04:00

Indulge me for a second here.

The Mrs. & I just watched Paper Moon last night. Good flick. Anyway, after the movie we watched the interviews with the people behind the movie. Peter Bogdanovich being front and center. As I was watching this, I remembered just how self-involved an impression ol' Petey gives off. He wants to be old school Hollywood so badly. It's cute.

Exhibit A - His bandanna-scarf. If you're gonna do unnecessary neck ware, at least go for the silk ascot.
Exhibit B - Name dropping. One name in particular. He could be ordering an egg-white omelet, and he'd still manage to fit in an Orson Welles anecdote just before he asks for fresh-squeezed orange juice.

But most importantly:
Exhibit C - That thing he does with his glasses, usually when he's trying to make a point. He's looking at his interviewer, head slightly down, all hangdog eyes and such, then he adjusts the frames of his glasses when he says something of himself in which he's particularly proud, or something he deems is "important." (quotes used to add "emphasis")

The glasses do not need readjusting. It's his tell.

The only other person who does this better is Jerry Lewis. Watch interviews of him in the 80's, when he started to distance himself from his younger, "hey lady" image. He speaks as if he's giving the sermon on the mountain. Deeper voice, careful pauses, use of unnecessarily big words. He so desperately wants to be taken "seriously" in the 80's. Mr. Lewis, I saw Hardly Working, and I still want my $2.00 back.

I couldn't find a picture of this adjusting of the glasses action, which is unfortunate. Either you know what I'm talking about, or I might have lost you completely. This is the type of person who, upon receiving an award at a gala event, looks out at the audience from on stage and makes that annoying, pretentious, praying hands bow thing.

What the hell is that????

Oh, and the only person who does the glasses thing better than Jerry Lewis is Martin Short, impersonating Jerry Lewis.

East Coast Classic Rock Radio is the poor man's West Coast Classic Rock Radio

2007-10-02T22:09:00.000-04:00

Been silent for a while. Shot two commercials, wrapped up our Channel 102 series, writing a treatment, working for a friend, attended a funeral (out in Washington, which inspired this post).

I could do without so much Billy Joel.

Vanessa Carlton is the poor man's Michelle Branch

2007-09-21T21:25:00.000-04:00

There's only one way to settle this confusion. Wrestling match. At my apartment. I'll be the mat.

This weekend I'm shooting what will turn out to be the last episode of my short series. I've learned a lot about making these picture stories. It's a hard business to make sure what is in your head makes it to paper, and then to film (or tape). So many variables. Can't say I've been thrilled with the end results on all the episodes, but that's no one's fault but my own. There are moments I see when I think I'm finally getting the hang of this. Then there are the moments that just don't work at all, no matter how much I try to force it in editing. Biggest lesson learned - if you can't pay anybody, stick with small casts.

Been very busy this month. Just finished the script (as finished as it's gonna be) two days ago. We shoot tomorrow. I hope we go out with a bang. Or at least a joke that doesn't bomb.

Foxy Brown is the poor man's Lil Kim

2007-09-13T08:47:00.001-04:00

This is according to a woman who runs a little boutique store a few blocks away. The Poor Woman and I were getting gifts for a few nieces while the proprietess was telling us that Lil Kim was just in her store, and she was so nice. Not at all like Foxy Brown, who was very, very, very rude. Then she said "Foxy Brown is banned from this store."

And that became the title of my as-yet-released hit record. Thanks to another conversation later that evening, the name of my as-yet-assembled band is going to be "Italian Dick Tease."

I booked the other commercial too. Going to Dallas next week to shoot it. I'll look for some TX PMV entries while I'm there.

Nothing new

2007-09-11T23:52:00.000-04:00

Six years ago today, I was temping in an office, blocks from what is now a big construction project/hole in the ground/gravesite. While I was not close enough to be hurt, I was close enough to feel trapped. I was close enough to feel the impact of the second plane before I heard it, turn to the right and see it fall. I was close enough to mechanically walk home through ash and darkness. I was close enough.

Today, I shot a silly commercial.

Anyone who tells you this world isn't an absurd place is trying to sell you something.

Odds and other odds

2007-09-10T18:29:00.000-04:00

Tom Conti - don't know who is his poor man's (more likely, rich man's) mate.

Art LaFleur - this has been puzzling me since day one of PMV. Anyone got any ideas?

M. Emmet Walsh - I met Mr. Walsh once when he came to my college. He was in town shooting the mega-hit White Sands, and he spoke to my theater management class. Swell fella. Knew the head of our department. Mr. Walsh is seen here with a gentleman whom I had the pleasure of working with for all of about 11 hours. Looking at this picture, I believe Mr. Carradine stumbled onto this set not realizing there was a film crew making a movie, as he is in his street clothes.

Sam Jackson, as he was known then, also spoke at another gathering at our college. Nicest guy in the world. Spoke to about 50 students in a small, dark room on a lazy, Spring late afternoon. In just two years he'd rack up another 100 movie credits and go on to kick cinematic ass as Bible quoting, Burger-name pondering Jules. A lot of films passed through our school/town while I was there. I also met Billy Crystal (filming City Slickers). He's not a tall man. Nice, but tiny. But of all the celebrities I ever met there, this guy was the most awesome.

They broke the mold after Cesar Romero. I met him at a dedication ceremony on campus. Our gym had been converted into a soundstage, thanks in part to our college's lovely benefactor, Greer Garson. Mr. Romero was one of the guests at the opening night ceremony dedicating it to Ms. Garson (too ill to attend). Anyway, I was in a show that was part of the entertainment that night, and got to hob with the nobs after we were through. On display was a new Oscar for Best Actress, 1941 to Ms. Garson for her title role in Mrs. Miniver. We (the entertainment) were all asked to pick it up and pose with it. Oscars are not as light as you think they are. Anyway, Mr. Romero came over and spoke with about 3 of us for a couple of minutes. Shook our hands (very firm grip) and thanked us for starting off the evening with a bang. He told a few stories to our star-struck faces (all of which I have forgotten) and vanished into the crowd...which included Tab Hunter and David Huddleston. Knowing my fascination for all things character actor, you can also imagine my glee at being in the same room with Mr. Huddleston.

Just found out I booked one of the commercials I was on hold for. Fingers crossed for the other one. Daddy needs a new pair of shoes.

The Mrs. and I just wrapped up Season 3 of Deadwood.

Richardson agrees. Two thumbs WAY UP.

Chris Cooper is the poor man's William H Macy

2007-09-07T15:52:00.000-04:00

As I say every time I post one of these too-close-to-call entries, I think both of these guys are the balls.

That's what the kids say, "balls," right?

Anyway, I'm actually in a whirlwind of commercial activity right now. Lots of callbacks, but haven't booked anything yet. I was on hold for 4 different, juicy spots, which would've made for a nice Christmas. As of this moment, I'm only on hold for two jobs...which would make for a decent Halloween. Lots of time spent going to said auditions/callbacks, so it's starting to feel more like a real job than a real job.

Which feels fan-fuckting-tastic.

Also getting paid to write. That's correct. Me. Writing. For money. Two different projects. Exchanging currency for my thought farts. By people who must not read this blog.

Laslty, my 5-min episdoic is now going on to episode 4. I think this will be it, as it's getting too hard to produce, and I've got too much on my plate.

Thanks for sticking around this long.

Dylan Baker gets the scripts that Cooper and Macy have to pass up. Dylan Baker is also the balls.

"What I Like About You" is the poor man's "My Sharona"

2007-09-01T11:36:00.000-04:00

Kinda like Fruity Pebbles just ain't quite Cocoa Pebbles.

Jason Sudeikis is the poor man's Ed Helms

2007-08-23T22:55:00.001-04:00

So I'm editing. Editing is a tricky thing. Especially when I'm a moron director, with not much time (or money) to shoot something carefully.

Stuff is missing (what we in the business call "footage"), and I'm trying to find a creative way to fill it in.

Also - I've got Salt n Pepa's "Push It" stuck in my head, so that isn't helping matters any.

Mario Vazquez is the poor man's Wilmer Valderrama

2007-08-22T21:03:00.000-04:00

I told you I had a backlog of crappy entries.

Butter Recipe Golden with Chocolate Frosting is the poor man's Strawberry Supreme with White Frosting

2007-08-21T08:10:00.000-04:00

Each year, in honor of my getting out of the womb pool, I celebrate with one of these cakes. Last year it was Butter Recipe Golden with Chocolate Frosting*.

This year the flavors of white and strawberry will delight my senses.

I also celebrate by taking a nap.

*This is in no way a product endorsement for Duncan Hines.

Richard Melville Hall is the poor man's Norman Cook

2007-08-20T10:49:00.000-04:00

Before there was a Fatboy Slim, there was a Housemartin.

Sitcoms with two-word titles are the poor man's version of sitcoms with three-word titles.

2007-08-17T20:40:00.000-04:00

What started out as a post about two shows, ended up up being about 5 shows and their press photos. The images of who these wacky people are, and what you're in for come the new fall season.

Let's begin this journey with Punky Brewster.

Bad photo. No personality whatsoever. Everyone's smiling and happy. A cardinal sin in sitcom land. The only sass comes from the carefully-cast ethnically-safe neighbor. And why wouldn't you put the star of your show in the center of the damn photo? Who's the Stepford-girl? I'm bored just thinking about this now. Let's move on.

Next we have The Nanny.

Sheesh. This just makes me sad for the time I was woefully unemployed, and watched entirely too much daytime syndicated TV. The Nanny stole all motivation from me to get up off the couch, dust the filth off of my body and get a job...or at least change the channel. Maybe it was the bright colors of the show, or Fran's voice had the power to paralyze small animals and out-of-work actors. Fun Factoid: This show introduces to us the academic puzzle: the "How Hot Will The Daughter Be When She Grows Up" Theorum. In this case, not very. (Punky Brewster does not count in this theorum because she was 3 years old when her show was on the air. And the Poor Man has some decorum.)

Sitcoms with two-word titles are the poor man's version of sitcoms with three-word titles. But their pictures are just as lame.

Moving right along to Who's the Boss?

Alyssa Milano scores off the charts on the HHWTDBWSGU Theorum with umpteen, sweet, photoshopped pictures of her all bendy and sweaty. However, I hated this show. Judith Light and Katherine Helmond scared the beejeezus outta me. Still do. Hold them tight and don't let go, Tony Danza! They hunger for your brain!

Charles in Charge

Uhhhhhh, boy was this sitcom a load of pastel crap. I honestly have nothing good to say about this show or photo. I had high hopes for the comedy re-teaming of Baio and Aames (see Zapped!), but c'mon! And even though she's no Alyssa Milano, Nicole Eggert scores very high on the HHWTDBWSGU Theorum. And speaking of the HHWTDBWSGU Theorum...the younger sister, who saw that one coming? Fun Photo Bonus: Blur your eyes and tell me if you can tell Willie Aames and Ellen Travolta apart.

You know, the word "irrepressible" gets bandied about far too often.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the irrepressible Nell Carter in Gimme a Break.

Who am I kidding? This show is shit. This photo was shit (except for Dolph). I had a thing for the youngest daughter. She was just my style back in 1985.

Somewhat related (being a way to tell you I watched way too much TV as a kid). I have, or had, the uncanny ability to tell what network a sitcom was on just by the look of the show. CBS sitcoms all looked like One Day at a Time. NBC sitcoms all looked like The Cosby Show. All ABC sitcoms looked like Happy Days. Of course there were exceptions to the rule. Three's Company should've totally been a CBS show, but back then CBS was still an old folks network.

And this is why it took so long for me to get married.

Happy BIRTHday, Maurice.

It's "Uncle Poor Man" to you.

Rachel Weisz is the poor man's Kate Winslet

2007-08-16T11:51:00.000-04:00

An hour ago the comparison was reversed. An hour from now, it may be reversed again. I can't make up my mind.

Azura Skye is the poor man's Ashley Johnson

2007-08-15T10:59:00.001-04:00

Who?

Huh?

Exactly.

Chicago's dental husband is the poor man's New York's dental husband

2007-08-13T21:05:00.000-04:00

So, let's see....where was I ?

Haven't posted in a while. Why?

Actually booked a few jobs.
Worked a crap job on the days I wasn't working better ones.
Harry Potter
Visiting family, mine and in-laws
writing, sort of
replacing all the lightbulbs in the house with those cork-screwy, energy-efficient ones
decided I wasn't hot enough in NYC, so I went to TX for a few days
BBQ hangover
auditioning the fuck out of every commercial (good and bad)*
a concert here, a concert there.
paddlin' in the East River - disinfecting
Makin' bookcases
all our friends are birthin' babies
dentist
bikin' to Coney Island and back - recovering
baseball
weeping openly in public places
etc.

So this is what's gonna happen - I've got a list of poormans comparisons that are waiting to get published. I'm not a big fan of a lot of them, but I'm really not feeling the inspiration so much right now. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the humidity.

I'm going to publish everything on that list, warts and all.

Then I'm going to quit.

Until I decide not to quit anymore. Or not. I don't know.

It's not you. It's me. It really is this time. I'm just tired from all the other stuff happening, and I feel completely uninspired. I'm feeling as funny as Joe Piscopo after he discovered barbells. Ahhh, why couldn't the world just stop time right after Johnny Dangerously?

Over the next few weeks, I'm going to be tossing out the garbage, the 2nd string, the poorman's version of Poor Man's Version, and then I'm gonna just wait and see if something pops into my noggin.

If it all goes well, it'll be like fireworks on the 4th of July. There'll be some great explosions at the beginning, some middling ones, and then I'm gonna throw it all up in the sky for your amazement and dazzled delight.

*My work in commercials will never top this guy's performance. I love the flinch his "wife" gives. She is so living a lie.

This is my all time favorite commercial in the world.

This here is the poor man's version:

Paula Prentiss is the poor man's Susan St. James is the poor man's Kate Jackson

2007-07-10T07:42:00.000-04:00

The Poor Woman and I had a very active weekend. Kayaking in the East River (I'm still glowing), Biking to Coney Island, and then creating the world's greatest Ikea Structure Ever! with good friends J & D. Physical depletion led to today's masterpiece.

Tomorrow: the saga of the poor man's Jaws!

John Bonham was the poor man's Keith Moon

2007-07-09T07:42:00.000-04:00

Click the pictures. Look at Keith's face. The man was insane, and in my eyes, crazy trumps drunk.

Way behind on a lot of things. The goal is to get back to posting M-F again.

But it's so damn hot.

James Coburn is the poor man's Lee Marvin

2007-07-02T07:08:00.000-04:00

Not to discredit the fine work of Mr. Coburn, but Lee Marvin was a bad ass. Truly. Did you know the man was a sniper in WWII?

A motherfucking sniper!

And the dude just exuded cool. The Poor Woman and I just watched The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, and for a while there I was kind of rooting for Liberty. Also just saw The Wild One. Damn, that Marlon Brando was such a pussy compared to Lee Marvin.

That Lee Marvin, he just kicks ass.

And here I am with pink eye, complaining like a little bitch. I am so ashamed.

White eye is the poor man's pink eye

2007-06-29T10:44:00.000-04:00

I have pink eye.

Thank you, God.

Sam Elliott is the poor man's Kris Kristofferson

2007-06-20T07:15:00.000-04:00

Bonus points go to Kris for being a member of Mensa, and "Me and Bobby McGee".
Bonus points go to Sam for a kick ass moustache. But Sam loses out because of that crappy movie he made with Whoopi Goldberg.

And yes, I know Kris made dozens of crappy films, but he's a musician first, an actor second. Sam, I love ya, but you should've known better than to agree to Fatal Beauty.

Friends who dress alike, pt 3 (you figure out who is the poor man's version)

2007-06-19T20:17:00.000-04:00

Another experiment with the camera phone. The subway is once again my playground.

Here we have two gentlemen with the golf cap/polo shirt/$50+ jeans combo.

And here are two lovely ladies from a land beyond the bridges and/or tunnels. (I kid because I love...and live in Brooklyn.)

Crazy busy times. Just shot another commercial, so hooray for bank accounts with more than $.06 in them.

Today's commercial was pretty funny. I had a stand-in. First time ever for me. He was picked because he had a nice big bald spot on the top of his head, which I don't have...yet. They got the shots they needed of the front of me, facing the other character. Then they turned around and got the shots of the back of me, repeating the scene. Then, they had me step out and replaced me with this guy.

Because being balder would make me funnier?

Meanwhile I'm thinking about the ex-girlfriends who might see this commercial and claim my baldness is sweet revenge for me being a dick to them. Fingers crossed they use my real, not-quite-so-blatantly-bald head.

Oh, and my stand-in was a full 5 inches taller than me.

The Poor Woman got us tickets to the Mets tomorrow night (from her work). Gotta try to cram in as many games as we can in both stadiums before they tear them down and create Mallparks.

I just made up that word.

Swap Meets are the poor man's Flea Markets

2007-06-18T07:24:00.000-04:00

1. Because when you type "swap meet" into Wikipedia, it redirects you to the Flea Market page.
2. Flea Market just sounds better.

Happy Birthday, MB. Your gift was purchased at a Flea Market. No crappy Swap Meet merchandise for you.

Never, in all my years, did I think I would ever utter this sentence...

2007-06-13T23:40:00.000-04:00

"I just shot a commercial with David Carradine."

Seriously.

This picture was taken by a gentleman, scholar and co-star in this commercial, Mr. John Smooth.

Cracked Magazine has always been (and will always be) the poor man's Mad Magazine

2007-06-06T22:59:00.000-04:00

Fuck you, Cracked.

As always, I'm indebted to The Metz for bringing the truly important things in life (like the above) to my attention.

Sorry for the recent bout of radio silence. I've been working like a gypsy, tramp AND thief on episode 2 of Cover Me...which can be seen here. Now on to episode 3.

And lastly, yours truly is getting the opportunity of a lifetime. I just got cast in one of those Yellowbook commercials. Which means only one very important thing...I will get to work with David Carradine!

I am over the moon to get to work with Grasshopper.

You have no idea.

Yankees fans are the poor man's Red Sox fans

2007-06-02T08:53:00.000-04:00

This is one of the greatest pictures ever.

Honestly, I can't stand either team. They're both overpaid, self-righteous and richly undeserving teams. Their fans are a good 70% apes and idiots. I say this, knowing many fine people from either city who are fans. And I was thrilled when the Red Sox came back from a 3-0 playoff series to crush the Yankees. It would have been great if it was any other team, but because it was the Yankees, it was poetry. And for the Sox to then go on and win it all...Bully for Boston!

But I'm a National League man myself. I like the fact that their pitchers have to at least try to hit. I grew up in Houston, so I can't really be a Mets fan either (thank you, 1986). There's a certain humility you're bred with on the sideline of any Houston team. Like when your team heads to the playoffs almost every year, just to choke and disappoint you and your city again and again and again.

The Houston Oilers have (had?) the record for the worst come from behind defeat in playoff history. I can't remember if the record was broken, but I do remember the game vividly. My then-girlfriend and I were at my parents' house. We had to drive back to her Mom's place in Dallas that night. But you see...we were watching the game. Houston was crushing Buffalo. We were gonna celebrate! Well, the girlfriend couldn't care less. She's from Cowboy territory. (I say fuck the Cowboys!) And long story short - we're on I-45 at halftime. I make her promise we can listen to the game in the car. Bum Phillips was one of the commentators. For those of you who don't know, he was the head coach for 6 seasons, the guy I grew up with, alongside stars Earl Campbell and Billy "White Shoes" Johnson. Luv ya Blue. (I also say fuck the Steelers!)

But I digress. I'm hearing this loss on the radio, imagining the carnage on the field, and my girlfriend is trying to console me. But in my heart I know she doesn't care. With each mile we headed closer to Dallas, my Oilers were sinking lower and lower. I felt I let them down, by listening to her and not staying in front of my TV to watch the game. Well, being as smart as I was I only stayed with this girlfriend for another three years.

Back to baseball - the Astros getting swept last year didn't sting so much. Maybe I'm older, and I definitely don't follow the team as I once had, but I was just so happy to see them get to the big game...FINALLY! I would've been happier if they'd one at least one game, but I'm a Houston fan. I know to expect the worst after the regular season ends.

On another note, I'd like to say I'm Michael Jordan's biggest fan. Especially during his retirement years 1994 - 1995.

Grant Lee Buffalo is the poor man's Worlds Party?

2007-05-25T19:07:00.002-04:00

I dunno. May's not been a great creative month for me.

But World Party is DEFINITELY the poor man's ELO.

I think.

Peaches & Herb are the poor man's Ashford & Simpson

2007-05-24T18:15:00.002-04:00

Coming back to the blog in baby steps. All work and no play makes me less poor, yet less fun.

Below is something I had planned on posting last week, but got too lazy to sign on and do it. I'm not even gonna read it now to see if it makes sense.

Yesterday was a day to fall in love with NYC again.

I was walking through Central Park for the first time in many months (my work usually keeps me downtown). I met up with the Poor Woman at the Museum of Nat History to listen to a crazy Italian man talk about Slow Food. You see, the Poor Woman is making a career change. She's going into the eco-gastronomy field. While I have yet to come up with a sufficient sound bite for what that is exactly I really prefer her mother's description, "something to do with cosmic food." Going to this lecture was a chance to meet the man who started it all. I'm still a little skeptical. I've got issues with people and their holier-than-thou attitudes towards food (More specifically, the food I choose to eat. I think both the religious right and vegan left are way too concerned about what people put in their mouths.) Thankfully, Slow Food isn't a cult. There are cult-ish people involved, but those freaks are everywhere.

Anyway, on my way to the lecture I was struck by just how awesome NYC can be again. It was a beautiful day. I was outside, strolling through the park. Musicians were practicing in the distance, providing a jazzy beat for my meandering steps. People were playing softball, rollerblading, jogging, eating snacks, lounging on the grass, watching other people. It was just awesome. It felt like we all were in on this conspiracy to flush winter away for good. All the beautiful people were appropriately blowsy, all the not-so-beautiful people were beautiful because of their sunnier attitude. We were all in synch.

Anyway, it was inspiring to be out and have actually shed some of my winter angst. In spite of all the crap going on in my life and around the world, this was a sublime moment of everything being alright.

Which brings me to the night before.

We went to a kick ass concert. Except for some problems with a few dancing goons and their personal space deficiencies, it was damn near a perfect show.

creative lull

2007-05-22T07:21:00.001-04:00

I've been a bit preoccupied with episode two and some other stuff. Be back soon.

Hello Larry is the poor man's "Hello, Jerry"

2007-05-14T06:11:00.000-04:00

Wow.

I think I've hit an all-time creative low.

John C. McGinley is the poor man's Bruce Campbell

2007-05-07T00:08:00.000-04:00

I am only allowed one brilliant thought a week. This was it. From here on out, it's all tater tots.

And hereby renouncing any politcal career I would have had...I remember way back in the day taking 2 hits of acid and going to see Point Break with my good buddy Danny (no political career for him now, although today he's a kick-ass Methodist minister, a union-organizing poet, and the sweet bastard who married the Poor Woman and myself).

Anyway, Point Break was unreal. It was fucking awesome to be 2_ and full of good drugs. After LSD, gods would talk to me from the canyon walls. I'd go through my life, from birth to that minute, during a Carl Stalling CD. Paranoia was out the window once the whole gang from Super Mario 3 came out to say hello. One time while very very very high, I climbed a tree in about 3 seconds, looked over at a garage 40 feet away, and sadly lamented I couldn't fly over to that garage. Not because I was high, but because I hadn't flown in a really long time...so I was out of practice.

Drug logic rocks!

So, Point Break. McGinley stood out in that film for me. He must've been good if I remember any acting that was going on. I think Gary Busey was dancing around in there too. I still dig McGinley because of that role. I think he's great and all, but B.C. is the bee's knees, even though I've only watched him sober.

Mmmmm, I do miss drugs. Not the kind that make you want to get all hopped up and violent, nor the kind that put you to sleep. But the fun ones. The ones that let you fly through the air or ride the big wave hand in hand with Keanu & Swayze.

Renegade is the poor man's Bohemian Rhapsody

2007-05-02T11:03:00.000-04:00

I don't like having a day job.

Rockapella used to be the poor man's Wiggles

2007-05-01T00:24:00.000-04:00

As for Channel 102...

We're in. We squeaked by into 5th place. But we're in, and now that we got some backstory down, we can get into action.

Go to Ch 102 (it should be up by Wednesday) and take a gander at Cover Me.

Wendie Malick is the poor man's Sela Ward

2007-04-30T08:29:00.000-04:00

Voiceovers. Who knew? These women did. Their smoky, sultry tones are in plenty of commercials.

Just took a look at our bank account. After our little vacation, I am truly a poor man now.

FINALLY: My 5-minute TV show is in. The screening is tonight. If you're in NYC and have nothing to do at 8pm, come watch the shows and vote for mine. It's called "Cover Me," and will be up here in it's full 4:58 glory soon. Until then, cruise on over to Channel 102 for details.

Portland is the poor man's Seattle...no wait! Strike that. Reverse it.

2007-04-27T01:41:00.000-04:00

We're back from vacation. And you know what that means.

Vacation pictures.

While I'm still digesting the 200 lbs of seafood I ate over the last seven days (most of which in one sitting), lemme entertain you with some shots from our trip, and some advice on places to go/people to see.

Here is beautiful Mt. Hood as seen from downtown Portland. This day was the most beautiful of our trip.

Note: the absence of rain all over the fucking place.

I used to live here more than 10 years ago. A lot has changed. I don't know if it's all these years of NYC living, but I get a real sense of Stepford-in-flannel here. Everyone's so freakin' nice, it's unnerving. It's kind of like Amsterdam (stay with me here). It's such an organized, neat city, but there's this vibe that if you mess with this Utopia in any way, step out of bounds, the locals will poke straws through your eyes and suck your brains out. It's a creepy I can't quite put my finger on. Something born of a community of über-sensitive liberals, not the rational liberals. (sort of like how there are rational conservatives [I've been told] and über-slimy conservatives). A creepy I was once part of. A creepy that can only be described as made in Oregon.

And they need to stop hiding their fucking stops signs behind trees. No wonder insurance was twice the car rental.

This is Portland's hardcore graffiti. Underneath the Hawthorne Bridge.

Last Friday it was the Poor Woman's birthday. Some friends of ours took us to The Herb Farm for the finest meal I ever had in my life. A nine-course orgy of the greatest excuse for eco-sustainable living I've ever heard of. I cannot explain clearly enough that each and every one of you must go to this place before you die. Actually, I ate so much I thought I was going to die. I wasn't drunk on the fantastic wine they served with each course, rather the sheer power of my own gluttony and refusal to believe I couldn't shove another bite of salmon in my mouth. This is all part of the Poor Woman's new focus - sustainable foods and ethical food practices. Basically, eveything fast food isn't. It's definitely worth looking into turning more of your meals into an event like this. Granted, this dinner was 4 1/2 hours long. Not everyone has 4 1/2 hours to consume nine courses that make sweet love to your stomach, but give it a try.

She's enjoying a sorbet & jello concoction that was made that night from the herb garden outside the restaurant.

This was the 2nd best meal in my life.

Butter. Golden, fluffy pancakes. Chorizo & eggs. Hash browns. Butter. No herb garden to be found.

A long time ago I quit acting. I wanted to be a forest firefighter. Still do. I applied to the forest service as a "hotshot" twice and got rejected each time. Now, I've met a few of these fine men and women, and the only reason I can think of that I was not accepted was because my liver wasn't damaged by enough booze. My wife, who doubles her weight soaking wet, can drink me (and all of you) under the table. She'd have made an excellent member of the crew. Anyway, here I am in a computer simulation, smokejumping.

God, I'm such a douche. A sober douche. A sober, gluttonous douche.

In cheap sneakers.

(Let me clarify - smokejumpers/hotshots aren't drunks when they're on the job. I've known a few of them, and have heard their stories of the work they have to do. I'm just saying when their shift is over, don't offend these guys by offering them anything with less than 70% alcohol by volume. They've earned it.)

Lastly, there is a picture of me mooning the Poor Woman. It's a brilliant picture. I decided not to post it. Not because of the embarrassment of seeing my butt in a public forum, but because for the first time, I got a good look at the back of my head, and I was not happy with the "more skin/less hair" memo my scalp was sending.

So in conclusion...
Mt. Rainier is the poor man's Mt. Hood. It just is.
While Seattle does have The Herb Farm, it doesn't have Tony Starlight (he performs Saturday nights) or McMenamins movie houses (cheap movies with beer, food and couches), and therefore is the poor man's Portland.

Karen Black is the poor man's Sally Kirkland

2007-04-17T08:41:00.000-04:00

The TV show is done. Just looking over some odds and ends tomorrow with my co-producer, then it gets submitted. We'll find out if we're in late next week.

Until then, the Poor Woman and I are going to the Pacific NW for her birthday. It's the best time of year to escape the rainy, post-Nor'easter blues of NYC, because April is the sunniest month of all in Seattle & Portland.

She couldn't have been born in July?

We leave Thursday, return the following Wednesday. I'll try to get a post up before then, but it may not happen until next week.

I haven't been back up there since I last visited in 2000, but I'm looking forward to seeing old friends/haunts. Also: Better coffee for the Poor Woman, better beer for me.

Friends who dress alike, part 2.

2007-04-12T10:23:00.000-04:00

One of the first pictures taken with my new camera phone. It's been a long time since we did the friends thing.

Last couple of days had me doing a promo shoot. First thing I booked in a while, so I was happy to get the work, but not so happy with the waiting around part. The first day was good. Yesterday was bad. Up at 4:30am to get to the location by 7. Shoot my first scene at 8(ish). Break at 10. Wait until 4:30pm, shoot 2nd scene outside.

It was cold outside.

Then we barely survived a passenger van ride, driven by a PA who should be allowed nowhere near an automobile for any reason.

The Poor Woman bought me a mini DVD player last year for my birthday. Instead of doing something smart (like bringing it) I brought a book instead. Good book, but the act of reading more than one page was killing my sleep-deprived body. I'd have much rather watched 6+ hours of South Park or something.

Which leads me to the band I used to be in. I listened to some of our old recordings, and while the usual places still make me cringe (why did I sing that??? Why did I riff there???) I felt something I hadn't felt since I quit. I missed it.

I miss being in a band. I advise everyone to be a rock star for at least once in their lives. Whether you sell out Madison Square Garden, play on a Halloween float or just get a few friends to hear you at a small club with flooded bathrooms, it's worth doing at least once.

Posts are few and far between.

2007-04-06T13:32:00.000-04:00

I've been holed up working on a pilot for Channel 102.

Basically, you present a five-minute TV show to an audience. Each month this audience views ten of these shows and then votes for their top five. Those five winners are "renewed" and go on to make another episode to be presented at next month's screening alongside five new pilots.

Instant Neilsens!

Well, I've been bitching aplenty about how I could do that, and better. So I finally did something about it.

It's harder than I thought. But, it's also loads of fun.

Writing a complete, coherent, funny (hopefully), compelling story in under five minutes is harder than you might imagine. Or maybe not, and my ideas are just a little too big for such time constraints. Regardless, it's a GREAT exercise in learning how to be concise.

We shot a ton of footage. I've got it under five minutes now. I'm working on the sound edit, a special glowing effect and the color correction. Three things in which I have absolutely no training whatsoever.

How can this fail?

Here's something to whet the whistle. The following is the infomercial our hapless hero is watching at the beginning of the program. A good chunk of it had to be cut (sorry Bill), but you still get the point.

The mom from Karate Kid is the poor man's mom from Big

2007-04-05T10:25:00.000-04:00

More construction in the backyard. Six days a week we wake up at 7am. While I'm not a kid anymore, I am too young to be waking up that early all the time.

Christopher Rich is the poor man's David Rasche

2007-04-03T16:55:00.000-04:00

Seriously people...this editing thing is killing me. To boot, I know nothing about sound editing.

Brenda Blethyn is the poor man's Brenda Fricker

2007-03-30T08:50:00.001-04:00

Have a good weekend. Remember to have your pets spayed and neutered,

Back to editing.

Camel Toe is the poor man's Moose Knuckle

2007-03-29T08:45:00.000-04:00

I have a list of these poor man's comparisons. Sometimes I refer to the list, sometimes I just make them up on the spot. This was one of the latter. It's stupid, but it's early in the morning, and I really should be editing.

The Poor Woman and I are getting new cell phones today. She's making the leap into the 21st century and dumping the brick that's served her well over these many years.

So she wants a phone hat has a camera built in. I couldn't be happier. We've been wanting to take a new approach here at the PMV, and not always compare celebrities. Cameraphones will enable us to carry out such a plan.

Until then, I'm taking suggestions for the rich man's T.K. Carter.

Highway to Heaven is the poor man's Highway to Hell

2007-03-28T09:11:00.000-04:00

There's a great story in the movie The Lonely Guy where Charles Grodin is talking about how unfair it is that Michael Landon would pay the same price to get a haircut as he would, when Landon has at least 10 times more hair than him.

As far as I know there is no such story of Angus Young.

So it's been a busy past couple of days of filming and rehearsing. Life is good. But today's post is kind of a complaint.

I was at an audition the other day which asked for the actors to be "Monty Python-esque." This is what my agent told me (and other agents told their actors, I found out). Now I'm not the sort of person who has the entire M.P. canon memorized, but like most people in the free world I know who they are, and what their style is. So right now I want you to write down three adjectives when you think of Monty Python. What immediately comes to mind for you?

Probably not what the casting director told us to do. She wanted very serious. She went on and on about how the seriousness of our delivery would be what made the commercial copy so funny (that's assuming it was well written...which a lot of commercials aren't). We'd each get three chances to do the scene. First it'd be a rehearsal, 2nd and 3rd takes would be on camera.

Because I listened to this casting director, instead of trusting my own instincts, I did the takes very seriously, almost earnestly. I took the notes given to me and adjusted between takes accordingly. What I did not do was what I thought would be serious/funny...or "Monty Python-esque." I tried to do the casting director's version, and failed miserably.

So I was upset. Not at having botched the audition, but for having killed comedy that day. I was very depressed.

And I like to think I'm pretty good with comedy. Not in a macho, I-have-to-be-funnier-than-you kind of way, but as someone who really appreciates the funny. Last year I auditioned for another commercial that was "funny," and at that one the casting director gave me a how-to-be-funnier suggestion. That time I listened to my instincts. I said I didn't think what he was suggesting was the right way to get the laugh. So I did it my way. I got a callback. I couldn't make the callback because I had booked another job for that date. No matter, I booked that job too. I like to think it's because I trusted my instincts.

That was back when I wasn't in the union. Now that I am, I'm at commercial auditions with people you see on TV all the time. It's pretty cool, but honestly, it can be a little intimidating. I've gotten tons of callbacks, but haven't booked anything in a while. I think that has something to do with being in a new class of audition. I've paid my dues and worked just as hard to be where these guys are, but just haven't gotten the break of a huge, recognizable job like they have, so I'm not showing up with that cock-sure attitude. I mean these guys are funny in the competitive way. They have to be the funniest person in the room. And people who need attention like that make me squirm. The commercial actress equivalent to this is that the actress has to have the most dramatic day possible getting to the audition (and then tell the room all about it..in loud detail).

I dunno. I'm rambling now. I was just bummed that I botched something because I listened to a casting director. I'm sure they're nice people and all, but for the most part, they're funny in the way that this post is kind of a hack post. It's amusing for a millisecond, but then easliy forgettable.

Valerie Mahaffey is the poor man's Annette O'Toole

2007-03-23T09:14:00.000-04:00

As always, we here at the PMV love our underappreciated character actors. So we salute the folks who are nothing like the Will Smiths, the Lindsay Lohans, the Kevin Costners or Sharon Stones of the industry.

Valerie Mahaffey should play Frances Sternhagen's daughter. It'd be some Hallmark movie about a family of uptight WASPs in Connecticut or some other place where they forbid you to move your jaw when you speak.

Patrick Labyorteaux is the poor man's Daniel Roebuck

2007-03-22T21:13:00.001-04:00

There is something sweet about being a steadily working character actor. Both of these guys work constantly. I'm seriously considering putting on about 30 pounds to increase my "characterability."

Actually things have been real good lately. I just finished a short film, a play I'm in opens next week and my baby, my 5-minute TV pilot is mere moments away from shooting. I'm pretty psyched about this last one, to say the least. It's my third foray into writing/directing rather than just acting. Most of my scripts are written thinking I have $20,000 to spend...so that's why it's been 4 years since I shot anything I wrote. Screw that "write what you know" maxim. Nobody wants to see what I know. It's boring.

So, just you wait. This is gonna kick ass.

I am the poor man's version of this guy.

2007-03-19T00:07:00.000-04:00

I'm just a pretender to the poor man throne.

This past week was the poor man's version of Hell.

2007-03-17T12:14:00.000-04:00

Seriously.

I'm not kidding.

I'm tired.

On the bright side, I've begun work on my 5-minute TV pilot. The following is an infomercial for The Carl Sandoval Plan that plays during another scene. I shot this with my crappy camera to get that oh-so-authentic, cable-access TV look and feel. It stars my good friend, and fellow psychopath, Bill. Lemme know what you think.

Mariette Hartley is the poor man's _____?

2007-03-13T10:47:00.000-04:00

I got nothing today. Yesterday wiped me out. I was shooting a short film, and quite seriously felt like the world's worst actor. I had no idea what I was doing or why. It's kind of like bungee jumping. After the bouncing up and down, you're just hanging there, with nothing all around you. Waiting to be pulled back up. You feel like the center of nothingness.

Than I remembered people like Carrot Top, Ben Affleck, Madonna, and everyone on the TV show, "Las Vegas" are still working, so I couldn't be all that bad.

But I probably was.

R.I.P. Richard Jeni.

Angie Dickinson is the poor man's Ellen Barkin

2007-03-12T06:35:00.000-04:00

This is strictly a generational thing.