Hello everyone, I’m Chyna Chandler.
For every actor out there making $30 million to star in a film there are roughly 2,000 actors just getting by, with some of them having to find a second job just to pay the rent on time and put food in their mouths. Out of the thousands of struggling actors there is a small percentage, no more than a hundred, which are among the living dead.
I recently caught up with one outside a Wawa mini-mart in Southeastern Pennsylvania. His name is Trevor Banks. Trevor began acting in school plays at the age of 12. After graduating from high school, Trevor enrolled in an acting class. It was then that Trevor got his big break, his first part in a major motion picture:
Chyna Chandler – Tell us about your early days, Trevor.
Trevor Banks – Well, it’s funny. I read this ad in the Arts and Entertainment section of the local paper for a new acting class run by a veteran actor. I immediately knew who the dude was; he played in a bunch of mob movies in the late seventies and early eighties. Anyway, I was really excited about it. So I made an appointment with him. I should’ve known when our meeting was held in the basement of his home that the old dude was a little shady, but I was blinded. I wanted to be a star, you know?
CC – Of course.
TB – So right away dude tells me I’m gonna be a star. Tells me I look like a young Al Pacino, only more pale. And that was all I needed to hear, ‘cause I wanted to be the next Stallone. I wanted to star in a Rocky or Rambo movie, maybe play his successor or something. I wanted to be on set with that robot from Rocky IV. But I suffered from one major flaw; I was undead.
CC – And he told you it wasn’t a problem.
TB – Oh yeah. He told me he’d train me so well that I would be stealing Oscars from under Nicholson’s nose.
CC – So what followed?
TB – I signed a one year, $2,000 contract with him, which was still drying from the night before when he said his kid spilled Kool Aid on it. I paid him a thousand up front and the rest in monthly installments. I was being ripped off and didn’t even know it.
CC – When did you realize you were being ripped off?
TB – I got the feeling during the first class when I was one of about four students. It sunk in a little more when we moved our next class from the Y to his basement. It hit like a blow to the brain when we abandoned the acting exercises all together and watched scenes of The Godfather and The Wizard of Oz and after the scenes he would tell us to reenact them, verbatim.
CC – Trevor, so you wanted to be a star. You saw what you thought was an opportunity and invested your hard earned money. Then you find that you have been taken advantage of. When does Trevor Banks the actor decide that enough is enough?
TB – Well, I’ll tell you, Chyna, I got sick of saying, “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!” five times a day. I heard from a friend about a movie they were casting for, and it was right up my alley. The movie was called Day of the Dead, and I knew this was my “once in a lifetime.”
CC – So you audition for Day of the Dead and what happens?
TB – Auditioned? Hell, I walked in and Romero’s jaw drops. He gets out of his chair, walks over, shakes my hand and says, “You got it, pal. You’re my zombie.”
CC – How did you win him over so easily?
TB – Well, for one thing, I’m undead. But what I think sealed it was my outfit. Usually, in those days, I’d dress in a cool pair of stone-washed jeans with a nice button down shirt, or if I was feeling extra cool, I’d throw on a metal band shirt. So I think, when he saw this undead guy walking in wearing tight stone-washed jeans and an Iron Maiden shirt, it just floored him. You know? He was probably thinking, Shit, this is the coolest zombie ever.
CC – But the rest of the cast wasn’t as fond of you.
TB – Yeah, I think they were jealous.
CC – Jealous? Why?
TB – Come on, Chyna. Because I was the real deal. I mean, they all had to get their faces made up to look like a zombie. And some of them took a long time. But I only needed a few strokes of the brush here and there. Not only that, but they were subbing raw meat for the scenes where they had to eat flesh. But I let it be known that I was willing to eat real flesh. The extras didn’t appreciate that.
CC – Why not?
TB – Look, nothing against extras, I mean, that’s how you get your start, but I’m a trained Method actor. I’ve acted out enough scenes of Taxi Driver and Raging Bull to know what it takes. These amateurs were eating cold sausages. I was gonna take bites out of people. I’ve done it before…and for free too.
CC – So what was the reason the shoot didn’t go as well as you had initially thought?
TB – Because some of the extras sabotaged me.
CC – Really? That seems quite outlandish, don’t you think?
TB – What? No, are you kidding, dude. There was a group of about four or five that were acting like a bunch of bastards. They were going around telling the casting director that my rotting flesh was stinking up the break room; that I was acting like a big shot just because I was a real zombie.
CC – Did this do damage to your reputation?
TB – Oh, absolutely. I was supposed to be a leading zombie.
CC – Bub?
TB – No, not him, but one of the main ones. I was going to get a lot of screen time, like a total of two minutes and thirty-five seconds.
CC – How much time did you end up with on screen?
TB – Have you seen the movie?
CC – Uh…yeah…
TB – Are you sure? ‘Cause you don’t sound it.
CC – No, I have seen it.
TB – You won’t know what I’m talking about unless you’ve seen it.
CC – I have.
TB – Okay, at the end, when that Spanish dude is lying on the elevator and everyone is tearing him to shreds, there is a close-up shot of him screaming, then you see a bunch of hands reaching for him, well, my right hand made its way into that shot. And that was about a total of maybe a second, second and a half.
CC – You must have been proud.
TB – Yes and no. I was proud to have finally been in a real movie, but it didn’t open the doors that I thought it would.
CC – So what doors did open?
TB – Let’s see, I played a corpse on shows like Simon and Simon, Law and Order, stuff like that. I think I even did an episode of Cop Rock, but I’m not sure?
CC – But no major parts?
TB – No, I auditioned for the part of Bernie in Weekend at Bernie’s and was turned away. They said the part was that of someone who was alive at first and then dies. I’ve done some plays and stuff; played Jacob Marley in A Christmas Carol at a local church during the holidays. But I want that big part. I deserve it. I’m an actor too. A good actor, at that. I don’t wanna be typecast as the undead guy who plays corpses. I even tried out for Land of the Dead and was rejected. Believe that?
CC – That must have been damaging to the ego?
TB – You said it. I’m undead, and I can’t even get a part as a mindless moaning zombie? That’s when I knew my career had hit bottom. But I don’t know, sometimes I wonder if those same bastards who screwed me in Day of the Dead managed to brainwash the casting director of Land. But I guess that’s one of the world’s greatest unsolved mysteries, like who built those faces on Christmas Island.
CC – Uh…okay?
TB – You know, right?
CC – Actually it’s called Easter Island.
TB – What? (laughs) Why the hell would they name it after a giant bunny?
CC - Of course. (pause) So what does the future hold for Trevor Banks the undead actor?
TB – The future is unwritten, Chyna, but I hope to show the world that there’s an actor out there who’s better than Eric Roberts, Burt Reynolds and F. Murray Abraham and his name is Trevor Banks, or Trev if you’re part of my entourage.
CC – Do you have an entourage?
TB – (long pause) Not yet, but soon, someday…hopefully. I can still make my dreams come true. I’ll die again trying. I mean, Stallone is still doing it; maybe I can be in his next Rambo or Rocky? And Pacino is still out there. Some say I still look like him. I think even more so now, ‘cause the guy’s looking as dead as I am. But anyway, I have the strength to make it happen, because I’m not just an undead actor, I’m an awesome cool ass undead actor.
For every actor out there making $30 million to star in a film there are roughly 2,000 actors just getting by, with some of them having to find a second job just to pay the rent on time and put food in their mouths. Out of the thousands of struggling actors there is a small percentage, no more than a hundred, which are among the living dead.
I recently caught up with one outside a Wawa mini-mart in Southeastern Pennsylvania. His name is Trevor Banks. Trevor began acting in school plays at the age of 12. After graduating from high school, Trevor enrolled in an acting class. It was then that Trevor got his big break, his first part in a major motion picture:
Chyna Chandler – Tell us about your early days, Trevor.
Trevor Banks – Well, it’s funny. I read this ad in the Arts and Entertainment section of the local paper for a new acting class run by a veteran actor. I immediately knew who the dude was; he played in a bunch of mob movies in the late seventies and early eighties. Anyway, I was really excited about it. So I made an appointment with him. I should’ve known when our meeting was held in the basement of his home that the old dude was a little shady, but I was blinded. I wanted to be a star, you know?
CC – Of course.
TB – So right away dude tells me I’m gonna be a star. Tells me I look like a young Al Pacino, only more pale. And that was all I needed to hear, ‘cause I wanted to be the next Stallone. I wanted to star in a Rocky or Rambo movie, maybe play his successor or something. I wanted to be on set with that robot from Rocky IV. But I suffered from one major flaw; I was undead.
CC – And he told you it wasn’t a problem.
TB – Oh yeah. He told me he’d train me so well that I would be stealing Oscars from under Nicholson’s nose.
CC – So what followed?
TB – I signed a one year, $2,000 contract with him, which was still drying from the night before when he said his kid spilled Kool Aid on it. I paid him a thousand up front and the rest in monthly installments. I was being ripped off and didn’t even know it.
CC – When did you realize you were being ripped off?
TB – I got the feeling during the first class when I was one of about four students. It sunk in a little more when we moved our next class from the Y to his basement. It hit like a blow to the brain when we abandoned the acting exercises all together and watched scenes of The Godfather and The Wizard of Oz and after the scenes he would tell us to reenact them, verbatim.
CC – Trevor, so you wanted to be a star. You saw what you thought was an opportunity and invested your hard earned money. Then you find that you have been taken advantage of. When does Trevor Banks the actor decide that enough is enough?
TB – Well, I’ll tell you, Chyna, I got sick of saying, “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!” five times a day. I heard from a friend about a movie they were casting for, and it was right up my alley. The movie was called Day of the Dead, and I knew this was my “once in a lifetime.”
CC – So you audition for Day of the Dead and what happens?
TB – Auditioned? Hell, I walked in and Romero’s jaw drops. He gets out of his chair, walks over, shakes my hand and says, “You got it, pal. You’re my zombie.”
CC – How did you win him over so easily?
TB – Well, for one thing, I’m undead. But what I think sealed it was my outfit. Usually, in those days, I’d dress in a cool pair of stone-washed jeans with a nice button down shirt, or if I was feeling extra cool, I’d throw on a metal band shirt. So I think, when he saw this undead guy walking in wearing tight stone-washed jeans and an Iron Maiden shirt, it just floored him. You know? He was probably thinking, Shit, this is the coolest zombie ever.
CC – But the rest of the cast wasn’t as fond of you.
TB – Yeah, I think they were jealous.
CC – Jealous? Why?
TB – Come on, Chyna. Because I was the real deal. I mean, they all had to get their faces made up to look like a zombie. And some of them took a long time. But I only needed a few strokes of the brush here and there. Not only that, but they were subbing raw meat for the scenes where they had to eat flesh. But I let it be known that I was willing to eat real flesh. The extras didn’t appreciate that.
CC – Why not?
TB – Look, nothing against extras, I mean, that’s how you get your start, but I’m a trained Method actor. I’ve acted out enough scenes of Taxi Driver and Raging Bull to know what it takes. These amateurs were eating cold sausages. I was gonna take bites out of people. I’ve done it before…and for free too.
CC – So what was the reason the shoot didn’t go as well as you had initially thought?
TB – Because some of the extras sabotaged me.
CC – Really? That seems quite outlandish, don’t you think?
TB – What? No, are you kidding, dude. There was a group of about four or five that were acting like a bunch of bastards. They were going around telling the casting director that my rotting flesh was stinking up the break room; that I was acting like a big shot just because I was a real zombie.
CC – Did this do damage to your reputation?
TB – Oh, absolutely. I was supposed to be a leading zombie.
CC – Bub?
TB – No, not him, but one of the main ones. I was going to get a lot of screen time, like a total of two minutes and thirty-five seconds.
CC – How much time did you end up with on screen?
TB – Have you seen the movie?
CC – Uh…yeah…
TB – Are you sure? ‘Cause you don’t sound it.
CC – No, I have seen it.
TB – You won’t know what I’m talking about unless you’ve seen it.
CC – I have.
TB – Okay, at the end, when that Spanish dude is lying on the elevator and everyone is tearing him to shreds, there is a close-up shot of him screaming, then you see a bunch of hands reaching for him, well, my right hand made its way into that shot. And that was about a total of maybe a second, second and a half.
CC – You must have been proud.
TB – Yes and no. I was proud to have finally been in a real movie, but it didn’t open the doors that I thought it would.
CC – So what doors did open?
TB – Let’s see, I played a corpse on shows like Simon and Simon, Law and Order, stuff like that. I think I even did an episode of Cop Rock, but I’m not sure?
CC – But no major parts?
TB – No, I auditioned for the part of Bernie in Weekend at Bernie’s and was turned away. They said the part was that of someone who was alive at first and then dies. I’ve done some plays and stuff; played Jacob Marley in A Christmas Carol at a local church during the holidays. But I want that big part. I deserve it. I’m an actor too. A good actor, at that. I don’t wanna be typecast as the undead guy who plays corpses. I even tried out for Land of the Dead and was rejected. Believe that?
CC – That must have been damaging to the ego?
TB – You said it. I’m undead, and I can’t even get a part as a mindless moaning zombie? That’s when I knew my career had hit bottom. But I don’t know, sometimes I wonder if those same bastards who screwed me in Day of the Dead managed to brainwash the casting director of Land. But I guess that’s one of the world’s greatest unsolved mysteries, like who built those faces on Christmas Island.
CC – Uh…okay?
TB – You know, right?
CC – Actually it’s called Easter Island.
TB – What? (laughs) Why the hell would they name it after a giant bunny?
CC - Of course. (pause) So what does the future hold for Trevor Banks the undead actor?
TB – The future is unwritten, Chyna, but I hope to show the world that there’s an actor out there who’s better than Eric Roberts, Burt Reynolds and F. Murray Abraham and his name is Trevor Banks, or Trev if you’re part of my entourage.
CC – Do you have an entourage?
TB – (long pause) Not yet, but soon, someday…hopefully. I can still make my dreams come true. I’ll die again trying. I mean, Stallone is still doing it; maybe I can be in his next Rambo or Rocky? And Pacino is still out there. Some say I still look like him. I think even more so now, ‘cause the guy’s looking as dead as I am. But anyway, I have the strength to make it happen, because I’m not just an undead actor, I’m an awesome cool ass undead actor.
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