How I Met Stage 22
I felt out of place when I first arrived at Boston College High, the large college-prep school filled with mostly South Shore Irish boys. Made sense, I’d been born and raised in a small tight-knit Italian neighborhood. Hoping sports would make me fit in, I tried out for basketball in the fall. As one of the more athletic kids in my class growing up, I was devastated when I got cut. It was the first time I’d been told “you can’t play.” I withdrew socially, not even trying out for baseball, undoubtedly my favorite sport, in the spring. Two years later, my parents moved us to the suburbs, where I joined the local Babe Ruth summer league, leading the league in home runs. (Over 30 years later, I still have my 34-inch wooden bat). Finally, junior year, I decided to give the school baseball team a shot. I made junior varsity, getting promoted to varsity shortly thereafter. I can’t express how much this meant to me. Coach randomly picked a jersey out of a box and tossed it to me. A big moment, putting that varsity uniform on for the first time! Its number…22.
There’s something about studio lots. Their magic is palpable. At any moment you could be walking where they shot Cheers or The Wizard of Oz. In my mid-20’s, the dream was simple: book a pilot, act on a show for seven years, then ride those residuals into the sunset. All the studios are a sight to see, with their enormous stages and byzantine streets. However, Fox Studios quickly became my favorite. I spent my first seventeen years in Los Angeles living on the Westside, so the short commute was definitely a plus. Sony was a mere stone’s throw away in Culver City, but what really tickled my fancy were Fox’s huge murals — The Simpsons towering high, Luke and Vader battling in Star Wars, and Bruce Willis vent crawling in Die Hard by Stage 8. Every once in a while, I’d get an audition on that majestic Century City lot, always parking in the same garage off Galaxy Way. When you exit that structure, the first stage you see on your left is 22. It always caught my eye. There’s my number again. I looked to see what was shot there. Planet of the Apes. The Fall Guy. Silent Movie! Anytime you’re stepping on the same floor as Mel Brooks, that’s something. Seemed like almost everything I read for back then was over the hill at CBS Radford, or across town at Paramount. This is prime time TV land, even small roles are very competitive. Most times it’s “you can’t play.” Stage 22 would have to wait. Thanks to casting director Rick Millikan, I had a handful of auditions for X-Files based at Fox, but I never got lucky. Anyway, I yearned for half-hour comedy. Finally, it happened…
December 2000. I was 28. My agents were not submitting me for college-aged roles anymore. Nor should they have been! At my big size, I was going out for guys in their early 30’s. But Hollywood is all about smoke and mirrors, and casting directors Nikki Valko and Ken Miller called me in to read for a short scene in the delightful Dharma & Greg, to portray a frat guy getting swindled in a game of pool opposite the very tall Jenna Elfman. Abracadabra! I got the role. “You can play.” One of the great things about booking a sitcom that shoots in front of a live studio audience is you generally get a five-day contract, or at least three, even if it’s a small role, because they need you there for blocking, network and studio run throughs, and rehearsals as script changes inevitably come in. When I first got the call sheet, there it was in print, the location info: “Fox Studios. Pico Boulevard. Stage 22.”
I remember Elfman telling me how grateful she was to be working. Thomas Gibson was similarly gracious. We had a fun table read with the entire cast. Jenna’s husband, prolific actor Bodhi Elfman, joined us. I was thrilled to learn one of my good friends I’d often see at auditions, Adam Vernier, had booked a guest star role. We got to hang out and work with director Gail Mancuso, whose name you’d see on episodes of Friends, and who’d go on to direct over 100 TV shows. These shows are almost always steered by their showrunners. Dharma was no exception. The captain of this ship was its creator, Chuck Lorre. Even though this was before Two and a Half Men and Big Bang Theory, he was already an established force. You know right away it’s his ship, and he knows exactly how to make it sail. During the audience taping, when my buddy Adam tried adding a little juice to his scene to make it funnier (it did!), Lorre gently reminded him he was a guest star that needed to stay on-book or he would get stricken from it. Lesson learned for Adam, and me watching. The episode played beautifully, and still gets rerun today. I got a chance to chat with series regular Joel Murray, a hilarious character actor and all-around great guy (Bill’s brother), who told me how excited he was when he booked a role on his first audition ever for one of my old favorites, One Crazy Summer. But here’s the capper. This Dharma episode happened to shoot just before Christmas, so we got to partake in the show’s holiday party. They brought in a DJ, drinks, and an In & Out Hamburger truck. I had invited a few friends to watch the taping so we all got to celebrate together.
In 2005, I had a new obsession, How I Met Your Mother. It was on a different wavelength unlike anything else at the time, so fast and funny. Like most of America, I fell in love with the entire cast. After watching the incredibly endearing pilot, I knew it was a show I had to be on. I made sure to alert my agents and send postcards keeping in touch with casting directors Dylann Brander and Megan Branman. Finally in Spring of 2007, as the show was shooting its second season, they called me in to read for an episode featuring Marshall & Lily’s wedding. Just my type of role, speaking from a place I knew well, behind the bar. I had toiled as a bartender for Houston’s in Century City between ‘97-’02, smack dab in the shadows of my favorite studio. When casting offered me the role, and I got the callsheet, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Once again, Stage 22. I got to work with director Pamela Fryman. Unlike Lorre’s Dharma, this ship was hers, as she ultimately directed 196 of the show’s 208 episode run, numbers unheard of today. I spent three amazing days back on that legendary stage. Had the pleasure to work opposite Neil Patrick Harris for a few memorable scenes, when his character Barney discovered people would do anything he wanted if he said it was “for the bride.” I also got to play a quick scene with Cobie Smulders and Alyson Hannigan, who were sweet as can be, as I returned the dirty veil I’d found on the parking lot ground.
I’m not sure what, if anything, is shooting now on Stage 22. Guess I’ll just have to wait and see. Until then I’ll keep my eyes peeled, searching for my new obsession, and a chance to hear, once more — “you can play.”
