Jaumear

Not long ago I published here a post about an advert for the web in which I participated as an actor. For those three or four who read it, we shot four different adverts, but in the end they only used two. Today, for the first time and for all of you… (drumroll) …THE FOUR VIDEOS. The first and second may sound familiar, but you can watch them again.

Thanks, Biel, for letting me have the videos.

Today I would like to share with you a post dedicated to balls… basketballs. It turns out I was selected to play a role in some promotional videos for the Spanish national basketball league, ACB. The main theme is “Hambre de título” (Hunger for title), and the idea was to shoot a series of daily situations where basketball was the main character. We shot four sequences, from which only two were chosen to be aired, apparently for internal issues. It will take you no more than two minutes, so I encourage you to take them a look at:

www.hambredetitulo.com

It’s a contest, so if you want to shoot your own version and you like basketball, go ahead, there are prizes for the three most voted videos.

This story begins with a visit to a website for actors which name is not relevant. There I find a casting RTVE (Spanish National TV Network) is going to do in order to find the cast for the musical version of Spanish well known tv series about the life of a family after the civil war called “Cuéntame” (Tell me), and which title is going to be “Cántame” (sing to me). I send my resume and some pictures where I look handsome (I don’t know how, but my friends are genius photographers). Two days after I receive a call from the studio to give me an appointment for the last March the 17th at 8:30 in the morning. I’m told to rehearse three different songs. So far so good. Weird things start: the girl who called asks if I’m going alone or with company. “Eeeeeeer… alone”, I reply. She tells me that I can take relatives and friends with me so they can dance and make the chorus while I sing. I flip. I recover, nevertheless, thinking of something rational that would explain such suggestions. Something rational I can’t recall, of course. I put down the phone and I stop turning it over in mind.

It’s the 17th. I’ve got all I need for the casting. I wake up at 7 to shower, get dressed and have enough time to reach the train station and grab a train to the place. It’s so cold in the street. I rehearsed three songs, including Robbie Williams’ “Angels”. I, poor dreamer, think I will impress them. After the train journey and a little five minutes walk I reach the studio. There are people queueing, but it’s still 8:15 in the morning so It doesn’t bother me much. Fifteen minutes later all remains the same, only now there are more people queueing behind me. I hear conversations of the people around me: some ladies brought their husbands and even some daughter (chan-chaaaaan), I have a feeling that this isn’t just right: are these people pros?

Nine o’clock. More people queueing. We still can’t go in. It is so cold I can’t even feel my feet. I feel a little breeze of madness coming up my throat. I breath. And swallow. Nine thirty in the morning. I no longer feel my calves. People starts singing the song “Cuéntame, cómo te ha ido…” (from “Formula V”) but changing the lyrics with “we wanna get in” and other stuff. We are all pissed off. I can see in the distance a worker from RTVE placing at the entrance of the main building a banner which goes: “Cuéntame, the musical”. This happens about twenty feet away from where we stand. I must add: in the freaking street. Chan-chaaaaaaaaaaaan. Second warning, that banner is not for us, it’s probably because they are about to film this whole circus. It’s some kind of talent show.

Nine forty-five. Four camera guys exit the main building, everyone accompanied by another sound guy with mics and all. No chan-chaaan no crap, this smells like scam. Some girls with papers in their hands also appear and they start speaking with the people outside. One of them begins her interviews with the people who stands three spots ahead of me. It’s a woman and her husband. Interviewer question: “why did you come to the casting?”, woman’s answer: “because I always loved singing”, thought in my head: “Where the hell am I?”. Next group of people. Another woman. “You came alone?”, “no, my husband is over there, pretty upset for the waiting”. And which was the interviewer’s answer?

Option a: I’m very sorry, madam, but we had some trouble getting started.
Option b: He better get used to it, madam.
Option c: Mint is my favourite ice-cream flavor.

Hint: the girl didn’t have much manners and it was certainly too cold to think of ice-cream. So yes, the only answer left is b. That’s right. No apologies nor shit, they are a big TV channel and they begin the castings whenever they please, hell yeah. Another wave of madness comes to my head. On the other hand, the woman just replies with a slight laughter. She wasn’t professional either. Next: the girl just in front of me who comes accompanied by her father. “Can you sing?”, and pay attention here, because the answer is absolutely true and must not be missed: “yes, I can, in the shower”. No words. I’m out. My turn.

I ask: what is the schedule?
She answers: we will stay here for some time.
Me: time, how long?
She: whatever it takes, that’s the way castings are.
Me: no, they are not.
She: well, those for TV are.
Me: eeeeeer, no. I worked for TV and their are not this way either.
She: god knows what TV you were in. But, hey, good start…
Me: (an answer pops to my throat: in a TV where castings started on time; but I hold my horses) ok, you’re right, I’m an asshole. The only thing I want to know is how long do you plan on ending the casting.
She: don’t even thing of going back home until ten p.m.
Me: well then, I’m out. Thanks for everything.

And that is the way my little trip to RTVE lands ended, ladies and gentleman. Be nobody is rough. If some day this happens the other way around, I hope to remember this day. The big ones should be there to protect the little ones. They step on them instead. Greetings and good luck, you are going to need it if you are a little fish.

After taking the play of Cyrano de Bergerac to every corner of Spain during the last year, the nosy character lands in Barcelona. Therefore since the last january 28th and until the same day on february, you can enjoy the magnificent play written by Edmond Rostand at the Guasch Theater. Thursdays at 21:00, Fridays and Saturdays at 22:00 and Sundays at 19:30. Who would tell, I’m allowed to perform in a professional stage…

During last year’s Cyrano’s campaign I had to perform the role of Christian de Neuvillet, a.k.a. “the handsome”. Although afterwards I also played different characters in different emergency replacements. This meant turning myself into “the ugly” or mister Bergerac and “the bad” or count de Guiche. Clint Eastwood’s copycat, ladies and gentelmen. But in the moment of truth I’m neither handsome, ugly nor bad. What then?, you may ask. Well, I’m the guy who dies in the first scene. But I die with tons of style and after an astonishing sword combat. Here my character, Viscount Valvert and my assassin, Cyrano:

And a family picture with my murderer making fun of me:

But don’t think I just die and that’s it, no sir. I appear a lot more, playing a wide range of characters: Lignier, the drunken poet; the monk who interrupts Christian and Roxane’s love scene and Farcit, the cadet. I enclose some images of different moments of the play so those who will come can have a little preview, and those who won’t can enjoy a little part of it.

Greetings from Jaumeland.

Jamearing through youtube, one of the biggest web’s fan found a little treasure from the past: a video of bloopers from the “18 i +” show. Good old times! If stupidity is deductible, this year I’m tax free. Enjoy it. Thanks Laura!

There’s more…

And once started, I also found a report you just can’t miss. For manga lovers.

It turns out, for no specific reason, there was a casting on the last wednesday for a hands advert for a certain brand which name I can’t remember (if they hire me, maybe my mind clears up) I couldn’t attend. Friday evening comes. I’m out from dubbing classes and find out some missed calls from the models’ agency. I call back: the brand… (I’m not telling unless they hire me, don’t insist) contacted us to know if they could meet you this evening or tomorrow morning. I answer there is no problem and they tell me to wait five minutes, so they can tell me when to go. By the way, the place where the casting takes place is in Santa Coloma de Gramenet and I am in the very center of Barcelona. Anyway, it’s far as hell. Phone rings while I’m walking home, I pick it up, it is not going to be today but tomorrow morning. Great. And I’ve already arranged a party tonight. Night comes: I go out anyway, but avoiding anything pointy with my hands: I’m sorry baby, but I can’t touch you up, you could injure one of my ligaments or worse, but taht doesn’t mean you can’t… Why go further. The point is next morning arrives. The alarm clock wakes me up. I could seriously hurt the guy who invented the beeps for this stuff. It’s nine o’clock. My head hurts and my stomach wants to exit my body through my mouth. I manage to get to the bathroom. No way that guy in the mirror is me. I’m blink twice, raise a hand… Shit, it is me. Looks like I’ve been in a huge fight. Rings under the eyes: deep and dark. Beard: three days long… Face: pale as death. But the most important, hands: in perfect shape. Maybe somebody will give me some coins in the subway, but my hands look awesome. Shower and dress. Exit. The subway journey feels eternal. Then the walk to the spot. All this for 240 euros less the 20 percent the agency takes and what taxes suck. I feel like a jerk. And that is if they hire me, don’t forget it’s a casting. I finally get to the place. I ring the door. A guy opens. I am Jaume Aguiló, my voice sound like crab. Come in, come in. He makes me fill a casting form: name, I.D., someshit… Height, Shirt size, Trousers… Do you really need this? Yes, yes, he says. I shut up and keep writing. I’m really fond of the form’s question: are you free on the designated filmind date? Hell, I hope so, after the shitty day I’m having. But the greater was yet to come: I finish filling the data and he asks me: Do you snowboard? Eeeeeeeeeem… Now I don’t follow. I come for the hands. Aaaaaah! He says. I knew it. Come inside, we’ll do the casting. The stuff is hard. It is about holding a rectangular pad before the camera in an unbelievable position even for a kamasutra expert and turn its pages with a certain speed so the printed images on them can look like moving. Ok, it’s fine so far. The trick is the so called movement has to be put on top of actual characters who are sitting in the back. That is, you can see real people’s legs in the back and their torsos are printed on the sheets of the pad and I have to make it look like they are actually moving. On top of that the torsos on the imprinted stills move too from side to side, which means I have to adapt the positions with the real characters in the back. In that moment I feel God’s hatred towards me. In the end, the guy likes how I did it. I take a look to the clock: one hour. David Mamet used to say actors were whores, lucky me he never spoke about hand models. I go bakc to the subway, taht huge non cybernetic social network. There I find a woman who is supposedly talking to her mother through the phone and who reveals to me an unquestionable truth: mom, she says, there are fights in every marriage, and those who say there aren’t is because they don’t love each other. Fuck me. I figure the United States are a very love giver nation. The world’s teletubbies. I bomb you because I love you, buddy. Meanwhile I notice I cought a cold in the street and feel snot running down my nose. So I do what every man or women with studies but without handkerchief would do. I wipe myself with the back of my hand. And this way, with snots and bombs I give an ending to this post. I know it has been a while since the last one, but there was a little logistic misunderstanding which has been already solved.

A few days ago I downloaded a software which allows me to record videos with my webcam, something unachievable just with Windows Vista. So I decided to test it with an old idea. You will tell.

It’s been more than a year since the end of the tv series “18 i +” , offered by the local channel Barcelonatv, and where I played the role of David as one of the main characters. So I decided to include that glorious past when I was stalked by the fans all around Barcelona… I even signed an autograph once! But stop kidding. The fact is that it’s a good memory and I think it was a preety good show so I want to share it with you in the blog. Below I suggest the links to watch the full seventh, and last, season. Enjoy! (I’m sorry it is in catalan, but at least you can have fun with the scenes)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

It’s finally here!! The second episode of the I want to be a Superhero series. I know it’s been quite a long time since I hanged the first one, but I had some troubles (now resolved) getting the idea filmed. This time I can offer a much better quality thanks to the contribution of the newly added members of the growing family of Jaumear Productions. So, special thanks to: David Martín (sukiweb.net) and Cati Mayol (blog.misskeito.net), never forgetting the active brain who is with me from the very birth of the series, Cristòfol Torrens (piffall.com). I hope you enjoy the video.

This is my last work in advertisement. I play the part of a Star Wars freak guy with one of my hawaian shirts (that’s my personal touch ;-p). It promotes a new site called www.todoesposibleenbarcelona.com (everythingispossibleinbarcelona), owned by BCN Play, who are film and adverts producers. I hope you like the video and if you pay a visit to the site afterwards, who knows, may be I’ll get hired for a new advert based on Star Trek. No limits for imagination.