The other day I received an email from Pamela Adlon. For anyone who doesn't know, she's the creator, director, show runner, writer, star, etc of Better Things on FX. Normally, I'd be thrilled to get an email from someone like her, or actually her, but this time was a little different.
See, I shot an episode of Better Things (scheduled for broadcast on April 9, 2020) and had a terrific little scene with Pamela. The whole day was amazing. The atmosphere, the welcome, the energy were unlike anything I'd experienced on set before. Top to bottom, pros who love what they're doing. A truly great place to work. Needless to say, I had FUN.
Then comes the email. It seems the scene never quite fit with the ethos of the story. So, all but "40-50" frames were cut. There goes the watch party. In a flash I'm part of a larger fraternity of actors who's best bits wound up on the cutting room floor.
I don't want you to think I'm complaining, though. I'm not.
Pamela Adlon was an absolute class act. She didn't have to tell me the scene had all but been cut. She didn't have to tell me how much she enjoyed working with me or that she hoped to do it again. But she did. Because she's been there and knows what it's like. Editing is a hungry beast.
When I say a larger fraternity I mean it. Everybody and their brother has a story about their work lost to the worse angels of the cutting room. And now, so do I. Kind of makes me feel legitimate.
When I started I debuted at 300,000 something on IMDB's "Starmeter." At the time I said, "At least I'm on the list." Now, I'm on the list again. Ain't life grand?
I only hope my little blip April 9 doesn't keep me from doing the show again. That is, if I get the chance to do the show again. Wouldn't that be great?
And maybe, just maybe, this whole thing gave me a little brighter glow in the consciousness of a decision maker on a terrific show. That's not at all bad.