...and I want my own dressing room!

I think I could do it better than her. Way better.

It’s Friday night and I’m alone surfing the channels trying to find a television show that would somehow psychologically make me forget that it’s Friday night and I’m alone. Good luck, right? Just when I thought that this was an unfeasible task, my pity party slowly began to fade as my attention was drawn to the following scene:

It was very windy at the campground and the family began securing their tent and other camping gear. Suddenly a massive tree falls over and nearly kills them all. The mother runs over to their camper, grabs the doorknob and is electrocuted. Her eyes roll back into her head and she falls backwards and begins convulsing violently. The loyal husband risks being shocked and pulls her away from the camper. The ambulance arrives and everyone lives.

It wasn’t the plot that caught my attention. It wasn’t the fact that this was a true story. What drew me in was that these were incredibly, horribly, embarrassingly bad actors. You know the type: reenactment actors. I don’t know where reenactment actors come from, but you see them all the time. They try really hard to have the same color hair or body type of the person they are reenacting. I wonder if that’s the only criteria. Acting skills not necessary?

I want to be a reenactment actor.

I think I could have done the electrocution scene with a little more pizzazz. Drama. Realness. As I’m typing, I’m rolling my eyes back into my head and I really think I’m doing a good job. I know I don’t have a mirror, but I’m feeling it. I’m feeling the scene. The moment. The pain. I could do this. When this horrible reenactment actor fell backwards, she more like sat down. I think I would have put more umph into it. I wonder if the reenactment director was tired of her at this point and found no sense in shooting scene #240. I would have leaped back away from the door and landed a little less strategically. She also didn’t do a very good job in the convulsing scene. She just looked like she was fake shaking. I would have done some background work to see how someone would truly convulse in that situation. I guess that would make me a “method reenactment actor.”

I wonder if she was a stand-in. Like maybe the real reenactment actor got sick and so her cousin’s girlfriend had to fill in. I don’t know who these reenactment actors are, but I don’t think they’re real actors. You never hear of a celebrity who used to be a reenactment actor. They never pull out old reenactment scenes to embarrass Julia Roberts. I bet Bruce Willis doesn’t have cheesy bank-robber-gas-station reenactment footage secretly stashed in a vault.

How difficult of a job could this be? It’s not like you have to keep a plot going. You don’t even talk much. You’re only on for two minutes max and most of the time you’re either running away from someone or running after someone. Is this a normal stepping stone in an actor’s career? And is this above or below Burger King commercials? It’s a coin toss really. I wonder if there’s an award ceremony for reenactment actors. Do they put their reenactment experiences on their resume?

Elizabeth Hurley
Reenactment Actor, 1984
“America’s Most Wanted”
Has experience in being chased and thrown in trunk. Won the RAA (Reenactment Actor’s Award) for best screams in a reenactment.

I think I’m a good screamer. I can run. I can even do them both at the same time. And since everyone is always saying to me, “You look like someone I know,” I think I could play just about anyone. I’d have reenactment parties and invite all my friends over. We’d huddle around the television with beer and pizza. Then I would humor them with behind the scene stories about the other reenactment actors. I’d sign fake autographs and be the life of the party.

I’m pretty sure I could do a good dying scene. I’ve already practiced rolling my eyes back. I can hold my breath for a while although it’s difficult to do while typing. Maybe tomorrow I’ll practice my “death fall”… do a John-Wayne-swaggered walk and grab onto a piece of furniture as I fall helplessly to the ground.

I wonder if reenactment actors have agents.

If so, I need to find one. Does that mean I have to move to NYC or Hollywood? I’m sure my family and friends will understand when I tell them I’m selling everything and moving to the Big Apple to pursue a career in reenactment acting. Surely they’ll save their giggles until after I’ve ridden off into the cheesy reenacted sunset.

This will be fun. I’m going for it.