The Glens Falls Post Star takes us behind the scenes of a casting for an amusement park which included several DC roles:
Potential superheroes are captured in uniform, and photographs are sent off to DC Comics headquarters for approval.
Specific requirements apply for each of the superhero characters, according to a list available at the auditions.
Wonder Woman — who began her life as a child sculpted from clay — ought be as beautiful as Aphrodite and as wise as Athena and have the strength of Mother Earth, according to the description hand-out.
Batman must be at least 6 feet 2 inches tall and have a deep voice, fluid movement and good teeth.
And Robin, who stands a foot shorter than Batman, is noted for his attributes of being responsible, law-abiding and fearless, as Steven Dean, 18, of South Glens Falls learned.
Dean first played his trumpet for the interviewers, then he donned the costume of the DC Comics character for his shot at becoming Batman’s sidekick.
We foresee a rush for pitches on the adventures of trumpet-tooting Robin in the very near future.
Meanwhile Johanna points us to this disillusioning post that reveals that reality show WHO WANTS TO BE A SUPERHERO may have some decidedly scripted moments:
Well, it turns out that these might not really be “regular guys.” First, he found casting calls on internet sights looking for members of the Screen Actor’s Guild (SAG). Then, when he contacted the casting director he was sent a letter saying that they’d already finished casting — and there were still audition stops left. Click here to read Scott’s whole post on this.
From another forum…
Acting Like a Superhero
“As has been recently revealed, I used to be Batman in a live action stunt show.
The suit I wore was about 35 pounds of black rubber, with the only exposed skin being the mouth and eyes. The show consisted, largely, of me doing wind sprints alternately through sand and thigh-deep water. In the summer heat, coupled with the fact that the whole park was black-topped and usually signifigantly hotter than elsewhere, I would lose 7-10 pounds of water weight a day. As such, I drank like a fish.
I made my entrance on a slide-for-life from about 40 feet up behind the crowd, swooping down the line to the set. Think American Gladiators Eliminator zip line, but shaped like a bat, really really long and, as I said, way up in the air. So as not to ruin the surprise for the audience, I had to sit up in a little crow’s nest for 30 minutes before each show while the crowd filed in. This little box was about 6×8 and composed of sheet metal, except for the drop-off that was closed with a heavy black curtain. This nest was littered with empty water bottles and magazines, because it was boring as hell just sitting in there and while the park was hot, this little thing was an oven.
One day, I dragged a gallon bottle of gatoraid up there and drank it in about 15 minutes while reading a Maxim or somesuch. I very quickly felt the need to micturate, but decided I would just hold it. After a few minutes, however, I realized that that was going to be more easily said than done. Looking around, I thought about peeing in one of the many bottles laying around and leaving it to be disposed of later, but the music cues told me that I only had about 5 minutes left before the show was to start. I would never be able to remove my gauntlets, gloves, utility belt, cape, cowl, and bodysuit, urinate, and then get it all back on in time for the show. This costume was a process, and not a swift one.
I abandoned that idea and relinquished myself to just waiting until I got in the water for the first jetski scene, where I could just pee myself in the lake and nobody would know. Just a minute or two before the show I considered all of the action and goings-on in the ten minutes or so before that ski scene, and I realized, with my bladder throbbing, that it was going to be very unpleasant, if possible at all. Needless to say, Batman should not pee himself onstage. I peeked out around the curtain to the crowd below and, in a stroke of inspiration, realized what I had to do.
By now the show was started, so I readied myself for my first stunt and entrance. About five seconds from my cue to enter, I let loose. It took a while for the liquid to work its way through the soft portions of the suit, but it managed to emerge just as I kicked up and out over the crowd.
Now, I don’t know how you might react to Batman emerging over your head and flying through the air to save Vicki Vale from the clutches of the Riddler, but I’ll tell you it’s a pretty impressive entrance. Heads turned, faces were bright with eyes wide and mouths agape in pleasureful amazement, hands extended, vainly grasping at air as I passed by. Women cooed, men nodded, and little ones, of which there were a very great many, shrieked in delight. The crowd exploded. Before our show got too old, we could fill our stadium to capacity every show, every day, to a number of more than 6,000 each time. I can’t say how many of these spectators were there, directly below my flight-path, but I don’t feel immodest placing an estimate of at least 200. Easy.
I dribbled all the way down, moistening my many adoring fans, and they were cheering me for it.
I continued on with the show as normal. Being a water show, nobody raised an eyebrow about my wet lower half. They probably just assumed that the costume was wet from a previous performance. As I reached the water I was able to clean myself off a bit and then no one really could have been the wiser.
I can’t say why I did it, save that I must obey the inscrutable exhortations of my soul. Even so, I didn’t tell anybody that I had performed this action for over a year and it likely ranks amongst the worst things I’ve ever done. “
Is this your story, Cheese? Because I could imagine you doing this.
Anyone who watched season 1 of “Who Wants To Be A Superhero?” could tell you that was about as heavily-scripted a “reality” show as is possible to produce. “Iron Enforcer” was a plant from Day 1, sadly underutilized for his supposed purpose. The “convicts” the cast was sent to make nice-nice with were ID’d as actors. And from what I’ve heard, the final choice was known well before the reveal. Still, great carwreck television, and I can’t wait for season 2.
My apologies, Cheese. I wrote, or at least rewrote, the script of that watershow (Six Flags, Riddler & Two-Face, spewing pollutants into Gotham Harbor?) while I was in DC’s Creative Services Department. It was a painful process for everyone…but danged if the crowds didn’t love the stupid things. I also had to review and approve the audition tapes of the actors up for the various Batmen, Robins, and villains across the country…equally painful, although every now and then someone would come along who could make this silly stuff work. My favorite was an actor in the mid-west by the name Breckenridge MacCraken. He got my vote.
Paul
No, I was not Batman. But I will pass Paul’s condolences along.