Casting Directors: Crocodile Casting
Can’t believe it: I’m off to Moscow again, this time in the company of fellow actor Ashley Cook. We meet on the plane where we have been upgraded. Our task is to film a commercial for Russian tea with ebullient and leonine director Alessandro. Ashley is the King; I am his butler. Neither moustache nor whiskers are required this time. You can watch it in the Showreel.
More importantly, during our march around Moscow, I take Ashley to a café I frequented last November. The waiter (I remembered his name: Alexander) immediately bustles up to me and welcomes me like a long lost chum. Which I am.
At the wrap dinner, Alessandro and the Big Richard Tea Man encourage us to drink double shots of Beluga vodka. I rarely drink alcohol, but because the clients are happy, the director is happy and I am happy, I think “in for a rouble” and woof down four glasses. I must have been thirsty … and, d’you know what?– I like vodka. I like the taste. The Russians are making a man of me. During the night, however, I am overcome with a certain abdominal disquiet, an unwonted ickiness. I must have eaten something. That lamb kebab was probably off.
Curiously, neither a quiet twenty minutes upon the porcelain pedestal nor a hot bath improve my bilious state. Nor does the sweet, Russian porridge at breakfast. Not until I have consumed four cups of coffee and three or four hunks of bread and butter with honey do I begin to feel better. Ashley is kind enough not to be judgmental.
According to my more experienced son and stepson, I have been suffering from a “beeriod”, my very first hangover.