A week ago, I received an unexpected job offer to provide my voice for a commercial.

The job happened on Friday. It was so cool that I won’t mind solely doing this for a living.

Of course, like acting, you’re still subject to uncertainty and long waiting times between jobs, so it’s not a sure carerer.

But in voice work, at least, the audition processs is more or less eliminated so it’s less hassle. All you need to do is submit your voice samples via e-mail and wait for good news.

I can’t tell you the details yet, but the job was for an Internet commercial.

Me with the creative team from Ogilvy & Mather.

The recording was done at The Gunnery, which does audio for all kinds of productions.

Two months back, I had gone for a voice performance workshop at The Gunnery to learn about doing voiceovers for TV and radio commercials.

It was just one of those things I do because I like to learn new stuff. I never really thought I’d have the chance to be a professional voice artist, especially since I hate the sound of my own voice.

I’m not entirely new to voice work, of course, having provided many voiceovers for my own acting performances and commercials, but those were kind of like tag-on assignments, so they’re not really counted.

I did voice over one beauty salon TV commercial many years ago but it was more a favour for someone than anything else.

But I guess attending the workshop paid off because it got me this job.

In the workshop, we learnt how to tweak our voices in dozens of subtle ways to achieve effects desired by clients. We learnt tricks on how to sound a certain way by doing certain physical actions.

We also recorded several samples of us reading actual commercial scripts.

Me with Evan Roberts, creative director of The Gunnery.

Evan was our coach at the workshop. He also directed my performance on Friday and did the sound engineering. He’s amazingly talented as well as patient and awesome. I can’t wait to work with him again!

Well, as much as I hate my voice, this is something I don’t mind pursuing. I mean, if there are people who like my voice, I’m using it.

The work is challenging, fun and immensely satisfying when you get it right. Sometimes, your voice just refuses to come out the way you want it and then it’s all wrong, and you have to do it over and over.

I wonder if I’ll get more jobs after this?

Categories: Acting Journal
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The following post first appeared on Sheylara.com on October 13, 2004.

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I wish hair rebonding had never been invented.

Alright, so it’s unfair to people who want straight hair but didn’t get born with it. But rebonding spoils your hair, ok? Like drugs kill people, it’s bad, so people shouldn’t do it.

I know hair rebonding is not fatal like coke snorting, but it is a particular annoyance to me because, since rebonding came into fashion, everyone automatically assumes that anyone with straight hair has had it rebonded.

What, can’t people be born with straight hair these days?

I am annoyed.

I was at MediaCorp for the Living With Lydia shoot yesterday and had just had my hair and makeup done.

I’m supposed to play a beauty pageant contestant, right, so I’m supposed to have one of those outlandish beauty pageant contestant hairstyles. Like with big buns and lots of hairspray and wavy wisps falling over the sides and everywhere.

But the lazy hairstylist just steamed my hair a bit so I don’t have ends that stick out (like you get after you wake up in the morning). And my hair ended up looking exactly the same as my hair always does.

(Just pretend the headwear isn’t there. The hairstylist didn’t know I had to wear this thing since I wore it only after leaving the makeup unit.)

For comparison, the other girls’ hair looked like this.

They’ll probably murder me if they see this posted here but this is the only full group photo I have. I took it because I thought it was a funny sight to have a bunch of “beauty queens” eating dinner out of cheap styrofoam boxes at a dusty alley.

So, back to the original topic.

After I did my hair and makeup, looking like the above photo sans the headwear, I met up with the styling coordinator and we had this conversation.

Her: Is your hair done already?

Me: Yes

Her: Why is it… just like that?

Me: I don’t know. The hairstylist said that’s all he’s doing for me.

Her: Strange. We left specific instructions for him to give you all glamorous hairstyles.

Me: Yeah, I know.

Her: Oh, maybe he didn’t want to spoil your rebonded hair.

Me: …

Me: My hair is not rebonded.

Her: Oh, really? I always thought it was rebonded cos it’s so straight!

Me: Yeah, I know, everyone says that but it’s not rebonded. =(

Her: Wow, you’re so lucky.

Me: …

This isn’t the first time I’ve had a conversation like that. Everyone likes to ask me about my “rebonded hair”.

And when I tell them it’s not rebonded, they either think I’m a liar or they envy me. Both of which reactions I do not want!!

So I try to save the situation by saying that I hate my hair because it’s always limp and flat and makes me look old, plus it’s impossible to style because it’s so fine and slippery it resists styling gunk, and fancy hairstyles on me fall apart at a rate seven times faster than on the average girl.

THEN, they’ll either think I’m ungrateful towards my wonderful straight-hair genes or I’m trying to be modest. Both of which I’m not!!

I really do hate my hair. So much so that when I was at Uni, I went to get it “damaged” by going for a full-head, permanent dye.

After the dye job, my hair was rough and tangled easily and had more split ends. But I liked it because it wasn’t limp and my fringe could stay up better so it didn’t restrict my vision too much.

But I didn’t keep up with it because dye hurts my scalp and I can’t imagine myself going to the salon to punish my scalp every two months to touch up the roots.

So, right now, I have again my original head of horrid, limp, boring, un-stylable hair, which apparently people envy. But they don’t know the trouble it causes me.

Besides, they only like the hair in itself. They don’t consider how it makes me look.

I think hairstylists hate me.

When I was involved in TNBT, we all had to go for a hair makeover, and EVERY SINGLE ONE of the contestants had dye or highlight jobs EXCEPT ME.

Where is the justice in that??

The hairstylist said she didn’t want to spoil my hair so she’s not dyeing it.

Another time, we had a photoshoot for The New Paper and everyone had fancy hairdos EXCEPT ME. The stylist (a different one) did exactly the same thing to my hair as the Living With Lydia stylist did.

It’s a conspiracy!!!

They all hate me.

But that’s a digression. I need to do SOMETHING to my hair but I don’t know what.

I hate it that people think I get my hair rebonded because I’m vain, which, of course, I am, but I don’t like to be credited for more vanity than I possess, know what I mean?

Some people might say I’m already so vain no one could possibly think me more vain that I really am, but they are wrong. Or liars. All of them.

In fact, I am so NOT vain that, once, I went around Uni for a day of lectures looking like this:

I’m sure you can figure out which one is me.

I mentioned this event briefly in one of my comment boxes. We were the openers for the Melbourne University Drama Festival Parade, which is supposed to kick off three weeks of drama events at the Uni.

We were supposed to be like mud people or something because the festival is called MUDFest for short. And we walked around banging on pots and pans. Generally, our job was to look crazy and make a din. And since the parade was in the morning, I attended lectures and tutorials in this get-up all day after that.

But again I digress. So I was saying I hate that people keep assuming I have rebonded hair just because rebonded hair is the rage.

Let me present to you a parallel case for comparison.

Let’s say there’s this woman born with huge boobs.

Now, because boob jobs are so common these days, people she meets start assuming that she’s had a boob job. Wouldn’t she be frustrated to have all these people come up to talk to her about her “boob job”?

To complicate things a bit, wouldn’t it totally piss her off if she, in fact, hated her boobs because she thought they were too big and cumbersome, or maybe she’s into athletics and the boobs get in the way?

So, I was in this state of mind this morning, thinking that hair rebonding is a curse. Coincidentally, I also needed to go to the store to buy some shampoo.

I’m at the store and picking out my usual shampoo. I’m about to go pay when this lady pops out of nowhere and tries to sell me a new shampoo.

She’s holding out this bottle and waxing lyrical over its incredible hair enhancing qualities. On the bottle, these words in big, bold letters jump out at me:

On the side are smaller words that say something like “For chemically treated or damaged hair”.

I cut her off mid-sentence and say, quite politely, with a friendly smile, “My hair is not rebonded.”

And she says, “Oh, it’s not only for rebonded hair. You can use it on hair that’s been dyed or dry or treated with chemicals.”

And I say, “I don’t do anything to my hair.”

“Oh,” she says, looking a little worried, and then she scurries over to her corner where her products are displayed and plucks out another bottle.

“Here!” she says triumphantly, “We have a version for normal hair, too!”

Now, I wasn’t offended or anything — she’s just doing her job — and I kind of almost wanted to buy it.

But for two details.

One, the shampoo doesn’t come with a matching conditioner (the lady says this shampoo is so good it doesn’t need conditioner). But I’m wary of “too-good-to-be-true” things until it’s been proven and recommended by many people.

Two, it is made by Follow Me and I have some problems with Follow Me. I think their commercials are stupid (those that I saw long ago, anyway, before I gave up watching TV), and I think that Follow Me is an absolutely ridiculous name for a brand.

But I might try it out one day, anyway, just for kicks, because I like trying out new things. But now, I just don’t feel too adventurous because I’m on a tight budget.

Having said all that, I have to admit that part of me is secretly pleased that I was born with something that girls all over the world are paying good money to get.

The only trouble is that I don’t think it looks good on me and I don’t want to have people mistakenly think that I’m paying all this money to get something that doesn’t look good on me. That would make me feel so misunderstood.

I was discussing this with a friend earlier and I said, “My hair isn’t even THAT straight! The back curls out a bit because of the layering. How does it look rebonded??”

And he said, “That’s true. Your hair looks like it was rebonded six months ago and now it has grown out and you’re too lazy to maintain it.”

Like, how about smearing salt onto my wounds and then setting an army of maggots on them!

Perhaps I shall, from now on, roll my hair up in a bun and wear it in a baseball cap. That should save me all the trouble!

Categories: Acting Journal, Beauty
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The audition grind continues (see Part 1)…

The callback audition was a lot easier because I was given a script to learn and it wasn’t a monologue.

Again, I had to wear 70s fashion, so I went and bought myself another dress. I decided not to wear that first dress again because I think I look atrocious in it.

Here’s my new dress:

It costs about $50 or so. Can’t remember exactly. I think it looks a lot better than the first one, although I’m not sure if it’s any more “correct” than the first.

I felt very self-conscious wearing it to the audition and then going home in it. It feels more like a costume than something a normal woman would wear out.

Then again, I’m always wearing “costumes” so what am I talking about?

Next!

The film I auditioned for is called More Than Words or Qian Yan Wan Yu in Mandarin. (The title is a tribute to Teresa Teng, the famous singing diva in that era.)

The second audition was fun. I got to act opposite Louis Wu (a SuperHost finalist and sometime actor in MediaCorp Channel 8 dramas, currently an AI Films artiste). He’s very friendly and humourous in person.

Director Kelvin Sng chatted with me for a bit, then I did my scene with Louis.

When we were done, we both received some directions to modify the flavour of the scene and then we played it once more.

And that was it. I wish there could have been more because I was having fun, but then there were many people waiting for their turn.

We chatted a bit more, with Kelvin giving me some encouraging words but being very non-commital, and then it was the end.

It’s been almost a month now and there’s still no news from the production team, so I’m thinking it’s probably gone to dust.

I didn’t have very high hopes in the first place because the competition is really fierce, but it’s a job I would really like to have gotten because the role sounds like so much fun, and the crew seems very professional and passionate about the film and I have a deep hunger to work with professional, passionate people because we don’t get enough of them in Singapore.

Anyway, I’m glad that I’m now making a living doing something I really enjoy (blogging and playing games), so I can relax a little on the audition grind. I’m still going to the occasional audition, but very selected ones, so the frustration is still manageable.

If I may say it again, auditions are evil.

Categories: Acting Journal
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Four months ago, I saw a casting notice inviting actors to audition for a Mandarin gangster movie set in 1970s Singapore. I sent in my resume and photos and was shortlisted to audition for the role of the main female character.

That was good news, except that I was tasked to prepare a Mandarin monologue and dress up in 70s fashion.

I had never done a Mandarin monologue in my life. I had no idea where to look for a piece I could do. It should also be noted at this point that my Mandarin is as bad as my English is good.

(I can speak Mandarin very fluently and accurately if you give me the words to say. Otherwise, I’m a complete mess.)

It should also be noted that actors are supposed to spend months rehearsing monologue pieces to get good at them.

So, I had about two weeks to prepare for this scary audition and the butterflies in my stomach very obligingly kept me company throughout my ordeal.

I even contemplated calling it off, so stressed was I of not being able to live up to it. But I really wanted a chance at the role, so I rang up an actor friend for help.

I asked him where I could find Mandarin monologues. He said he’d lend me a book of short plays. At his earliest convenience, I went to pick up the book from him.

First challenge overcome. Next came the greater challenge.

I had to read the book in order to find a suitable monologue (or at least a dialogue I could modify into a monologue).

I figured that it would take me five minutes to read one page and 36 hours to read the entire book. It was written by some literary luminary in a level of language which I feel would be more suited to people studying advanced Chinese literature.

Well, I didn’t have 36 hours. At that time, I had just returned to Singapore after filming in Malaysia and was busy wrapping up filming in Singapore as well as preparing for X08, the biggest ever Xbox event.)

I had to quickly scan all the lines spoken by relevant characters to try to pick something out. Long story short, it took me about a week to find my monologue and try to read the whole play that the monologue came from to get an understanding of it.

After that, I only had a week left to rehearse. And to find a costume. All that during one of the busiest periods of my life.

I rehearsed it as much as I could (which wasn’t enough), did some Googling on 70’s fashion trends and managed to get my costume one day before, and finally arrived at the audition bright and early, as prepared as I could manage.

The dress cost me $65. I bought it the day before the audition. I wasn’t even sure if it was “correct” but it was the best I could find.

It’s now sitting in my wardrobe and I’m wondering what to do with it. I don’t think I will dare to wear it out on a normal day because it’s so loud.

The audition started off with a short chat (in Mandarin, no less) with director Kelvin Sng. He’s a very friendly and jovial guy, which made the process a lot easier to get through.

After the chat, I had to do my monologue. I think I did it really badly. I just can’t do monologues. They’re totally unnatural!

And then an improvisation session. I was put opposite actor Vincent Tee (who has appeared in several local movies) to act in a scene briefly described on the spot by the director.

I think I did that even worse because I had to improv in Mandarin and the words wouldn’t come out, so I basically came across in the scene as some half-mute person.

I knew what I wanted to say but I had no words for what I wanted to say. Haha. If only I could have done it in English. But that wasn’t the point of the session, I guess.

I think the audition was a total disaster, which was quite disappointing after all the effort I had put into it. But then this happens quite a lot to me so I’m used to it by now.

And, in fact, sometimes I get jobs out of disastrous auditions and sometimes I don’t get jobs out of auditions I think I did so well I would have hired myself on the spot.

So, you can never tell.

Three weeks after the audition, I received an e-mail informing me that I had been shortlisted again to attend a callback audition. (That’s like the second round of auditions.)

That was quite a shock, but a happy one, of course. I had a chance to redeem myself!

To be continued…

Categories: Acting Journal
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I don’t normally like to talk about my auditions or, if I do talk about them, I try to talk about them in non-specific terms, not naming anything or anyone, so that people won’t know which auditions I passed and which I didn’t.

One reason I don’t like to talk about auditions is because people always ask stupid questions like “Did you get the role?” on the very day of the audition.

I have news for everyone. Film auditions are just like job interviews. They don’t tell you on the spot whether they’re giving you the job, because

a) they still have more applicants to see after you, duh,

b) they need time to hire a PI to do a background check on you,

c) they want to go home and consult their dogs first. “Wag your tail if you like this girl.”

Or whatever.

This is not rocket science. It’s common sense.

Sometimes, they take months to decide. Gasp. Just like any other job interview, you don’t say, would you like fries with that?

Another reason I don’t like to talk about auditions is because people like to follow up, as early as a day later.

One day later…

“So, did you get the role?”

I get asked the same question every day for the next ten days by different people. Sometimes by the same people.

I don’t know if I got the role! I just auditioned for heaven’s sake!

What’s with this insatiable desire to know whether I got the role or not??

Who cares? If I got the role, you’ll read about it on my blog. You’ll see me on TV. You’ll see me on film, on YouTube, on the papers, wherever.

Making me go through the same conversation a million times will not enrich either of our lives.

“So, did you get the role?”

“Yes.”

“Congrats! I knew you could do it!”

“Thanks!”

“So, what’s for dinner?”

Or…

“So, did you get the role?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure you’ll get the next one.”

Yes of course I will get the next one! I just don’t need to go through this conversation two hundred times a month!!

Another thing is, it’s very unpleasant to talk about failure. In showbiz, they say that a 20% success rate is the standard.

You must understand that actors go for auditions all the time. Sometimes every day. Sometimes three or four times a day. And, sometimes, a thousand people are gunning for the same job.

So, a 20% success rate is pretty golden.

But, on the flip side, it means that you have to report failure 80% of the time.

And you’re reporting failure a lot because your friends won’t stop asking you, “Did you get the role?”

I repeat, it’s very unpleasant to talk about failure. Or be reminded of it.

I don’t want to have to say “No, I didn’t get it,” eight out of 10 times, you understand?

So, anyway, I haven’t gone for an audition in months because I’ve been busy with my new media work. But I went for one on Thursday and I will talk about it soon. Just don’t ask me whether I got the role.

Because I don’t know.

Categories: Acting Journal
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Filming in KL — Day 4
Oct 9, 2008

KL (Malaysia) has so many beautiful grungy places. Although quite scary, they serve as exquisite backdrops for films and photoshoots.

I would love to go back to this place to do a fashion photoshoot.

Or maybe not.

It’s a big abandoned building with all kinds of crazy junk heaped around the compound. It’s like a rubbish warehouse.

And the mozzies had a field day when tourists came to visit.

The native mosquitoes rolled out the red carpet to welcome us.

Welcome! they cried, Please make yourselves at home while we drink your blood!

They huge, they’re enthusiastic and they’re hungry.

They’re also ninjas.

I swear.

Big as they are, you don’t feel them land on your skin. You don’t feel them feeding.

You’re minding your own business, looking around casually. And then you chance to glance at your arm, and there’s a teenage mutant ninja mozzie shaking salt and pepper on your hair follicles.

In alarm, you swing your arm violently to shake off the TMNM. But, with all the years of gruelling ninja training under its arthropodal belt, it is prepared for the assault.

It clings onto you with its hooks for feet, all the while laughing maniacally at the folly of homo sapiens. You consider thwapping it flat but you don’t want mozzie guts all over your arm.

So you scream at it.

“My blood is toxic and will kill you dead, you dumb shit!”

Miraculously, the mozzie flies off at that.

And then you realise that that’s only because it’s already had its fill. A pink welt develops instantly on your arm where the TMNM had last roosted.

And it’s itchy.

Beware of teenage mutant ninja mozzies.

We should have heeded the warning.

Luckily, I didn’t die of dengue fever after this encounter.

I wonder how the resident artists survived the TMNM attacks. They must have some kind of permit to stick around unmolested while they complete their artistic masterpieces.

We didn’t stay around for too long. Perhaps 40 minutes or so. I could feel my cells screaming in agony just being in this waste.

You might think that this building is in some remote no man’s land, 3,000 kilometres away from the nearest civillisation.

It’s not.

It’s just minutes away from civillisation. I don’t suppose the residents in neighbouring buildings take a leisurely walk to this dumpster every evening after dinner to dispose of their trash?

After doing our scenes in this building, we strolled over to another compound with even more abandoned buildings.

It was better this time. We didn’t have to enter any of the buildings. We shot everything outdoors.

And that’s the end of my shoot in KL!

We drove up to Penang on the same day. It was a nice journey that took us from daylight to nightfall. I can’t remember how many hours it was.

Along the way, Dean, who was at that time the driver, suddenly turned around and said to me, “You must take a photo of these buildings!!”

“Why?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.

Nuts!

He’s always saying things for no reason. So, Kan took over the wheel and made him be the cameraman.

It kept him occupied for a good while.

Every time we went through a toll booth, he had to hold up the sensor unit for access because someone couldn’t be bothered to stick it to the windscreen.

And then we were in Penang!

My first impression of Penang:

*lol*

I didn’t know Penang is a resort city. It took us more than an hour to find our hotel because Kan was looking for a specific hotel and we were led on a wild goose chase by well-meaning locals. Finally, one savvy local told us that the hotel we wanted had already closed down.

DOH.

We settled for this small resort hotel called The Lone Pine Hotel which is, frankly, a bit creepy because of the name and the way the sign looks.

It brings to mind B-grade horror flicks where unsuspecting backpackers get eaten by giant mutant bugs while being raped by bored psychopaths.

Okay, it’s not that bad.

It’s a cosy resort with friendly service. It also has a nice pool, which is a redundant fact because I don’t swim.

I don’t like wearing swimsuits. =>

Alright, then. That’s all for today. More adventures in Penang next time!

Categories: Acting Journal
21 Comments »

The following post first appeared on Sheylara.com on April 23, 2004.

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Going to an audition is like taking an ecstasy pill and then not being allowed to party and dance.

I told this to Chong last night over ICQ and he said, “Like taking Viagra and not being able to have sex?”

I suppose that analogy works, too.

Auditions are very much like drugs. There are good ones and there are bad ones. Good ones make you feel good and crave more. Bad ones just make you sick. (If you’re cheapo and buy cheap drugs from dodgy suppliers, you might get fake or diluted ones which can make you physically sick.)

Mind you, I don’t actually do drugs and I don’t encourage anyone to. I just know a bit about them because there was a chapter on recreational drugs in my college Psychology course.

I had to add that disclaimer because I don’t want any gahmen bodies shutting down my site. So, here’s another disclaimer for good measure:

RECREATIONAL DRUGS ARE EVIL! They make you impotent and eat your brain cells and kill your kidneys and make your parents sad.

I am such a model citizen.

Now, back to auditions.

What happens at an audition is that, depending on what I’m asked to do, varying amounts of adrenaline will course through my body and my brain’s serotonin factory will work overtime.

The result is that my creative energy is up and I’m on a high and I want to dance and jump around and do all sorts of crazy things.

But auditions are short-lived. They make you do fun things and get you all excited. They let you show off for a while, and then they say thank you, now bugger off because I have 6,355 more applicants to see.

See what I mean? It’s like being invited to a rave party (keeping in mind that my knowledge of rave parties is purely academic), and they give you a party drug, but the moment the drug starts kicking in, they shoo you off home.

Can anything be more anti-climatic?

And then, there are bad auditions. Which is when you’re made to do things you’re not that good at or you’re feeling especially nervous because Najip Ali is the casting director (yes, that happened once).

So you do a lousy job and you feel like a fool because you’re sure that everyone thinks you suck because they’re staring at you like you have a piece of lettuce stuck between your teeth and you think the best solution to all your problems in life is to go home and lock the doors and board up all the windows and never emerge from the house again.

In any case, I don’t like the feeling I get after an audition. It’s like, I don’t know what to do with myself and I have all this energy to release but nowhere to release it to. And I’m trembling because my nerves are all fired up and I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust.

AUDITIONS ARE EVIL!

But some are fun. I was at one of those last night.

I was given a monologue to learn on the spot and I did a crying scene and I had to do it TWICE because three phones started ringing in succession while I was in the midst of weeping tragically.

After that, the director played me a piece of music and told me to perform a mime to that music. I decided to act as a seed at crossroads because that was what the music made me feel like.

I told my boyfriend about it after the audition and he was, like, “How can you act as a seed? It’s an inanimate object!”

Boyfriends just don’t get it, do they?

Of course seeds can move. How else do they turn into trees and plants?

And if Garfield can talk and walk around on his hind legs, I don’t see why seeds can’t sing and dance and do income tax returns.

Anyway, that’s the great thing about being an actress. You can justify just about any shit and you can be anything or anyone you want.

But auditions are still evil.

SO ARE PARTY DRUGS!! OK??

Categories: Acting Journal
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Filming in KL

For the duration of our stay in KL, Maria and I stayed at Hotel Istana (just across the street from Dean’s apartment) while Kan bunked in with Dean.

View of our hotel from Dean’s rooftop.

Some nights, I would crash over at Dean’s apartment (just for a few hours) ostensibly to hang out with the guys, but in actuality to leech Dean’s Internet access.

On this particular night, while I was busy blogging and Kan was busy downloading the day’s work and preparing for the next day, Dean decided to serenade us.

He sang many songs for us but this is my favourite.

Superman (It’s Not Easy)

Kan helped me film this using my Nokia N82. I have a cameo appearance halfway in the video, looking very stressed because I had two blogs to write and about four billion e-mails and messages to reply.

Dean’s ability to sing and play the guitar in this manner is somewhat hilarious because you’d never expect it of him if you were to meet him. He’s always a clown, making people laugh and doing impromptu weird dances to entertain people.

He even clowns around with strangers, who often don’t get it because they don’t expect a perfect stranger to tease them.

It’s funny for us, though.

Too bad he lives in Malaysia. We’ll miss him!

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