Chapter Four: Audition of the Burrahobbit, and Others

The days passed by in New Zealand much as they ever had in my old Hobbit-hole in Bag End. I met with the scriptwriters and set down the first few scenes of my adventure. I wish I could tell you about it in detail, but alas this is not the time or place. After that two more days passed, full of new surprises about the outside world. I traveled in the helicopters and saw the landscape from the height of an Eagle, but with far more comfort, and sadly, more noise as well.

On the third day I arose early and paced nervously in my quarters at the hotel. I had been given a private room in a very large inn, which was obviously meant for Big People, but I was fairly comfortable after pushing a stepstool up to the bed and figuring out how to lever the chair at the desk so as to enable myself to write easily. They gave me a , which I could make neither head nor tail of, but luckily there were some modern quills (called ) and I was able to write on the white, thin parchment much as I had in Arda or Valinor.

As I said, I paced nervously around these quarters. Peter had told me to memorize a scene from my book-- easy enough, that, though they used the translation-- but the acting quite confounded me. I made a number of ridiculous faces in the mirror, attempting surprise, fear, happiness, angst, grief, regret and sometimes in particularly desperate moment, a combination of all six emotions. In the end, I decided not to attempt to express emotion, but rather to let it arise naturally, as I read my lines. It had certainly worked for me when I had experienced the adventures; it would have to do now.

The scene I had chosen? Why, the first of the adventure, of course. My talk with Gandalf. How unTookish I was then! I chose it because I suppose I feel this very audition was similar to the talk which began my old adventure. Sir Ian, whom I had met earlier, would be matching me as Gandalf in the scene. I was quite looking forward to it, though it was a bit embarrassing to relive all my uncomfortable s. Ah, well. I was quite young, then. Well, younger than I am now, certainly.

The audition took place at a warehouse nearby the hotel. I was ushered out quickly under the cover of early-morning darkness, as was their practice when getting me out of the hotel. It turns out I am indeed rather well-known here, thanks to Tolkien. I have been reading his translation of my book, and I must say it is quite accurate. In any case, I believe these maneuvers were to prevent my capture, or some such thing. I did not ask; there are some new developments in the world which one does not wish to be made aware of.

In any case, we (myself, Peter and Sir Ian) all drove together to the warehouse to prepare for the audition. Sir Ian seemed quite enthusiastic about the new movie, and read the first few scenes as Peter drove, smiling to himself and occasionally glancing furtively at me. When we arrived, I noted with some trepidation that Sir Ian and I were up to perform first, though he had several other parts as Gandalf to the other auditioners. I gulped at the number of Bilbo's trying out; there were all of forty-seven.

Don't worry, Peter told me reassuringly, noticing my glance at the long list of names, Many we'll have to cut out for having the wrong look, you know, too young or old, or too tall or something. Oh, don't worry, he added hastily at my frown. We have plenty of extra parts for the Hobbits, especially during that auction at the end.

Yes, I remember, I said with a moody glare. Perfectly good set of spoons, gone to Lobelia. Not that she turned out to be entirely the bad sort, in the end, I added com promisingly, but kept my frown.

Well, I wouldn't like to, em, bring anything up, Peter said, hands upraised in a placating gesture. Now, hadn't you better get ready?

I know all my lines, I said, with a tap to my skull.

Er, yes, of course you would. Right, I'm going to see to the others. He left, clutching a large bit of wood with a metal clamp and shouting out instructions to various people. I noticed that among those auditioning were the other eight of the Fellowship actors I had met earlier. Mr. Rhys-Davies was of course auditioning as Gloin, but what surprised me were the others' auditions at various other Dwarves! They did not resemble them at all, but Peter had assured me that makeup was a wonderful thing, these days. Even Orlando, Elijah and Dom, the young lads who had at first seemed skeptical, were auditioning as Ori, Nori, and Fili, respectively. Mr. Boyd wanted the part of Kili, and Sean A. was trying for the part of Dori. Both Sean B. and Aragorn-- I mean, Viggo Mortensen-- wanted Thorin's part, though their arguments over it were good-natured. The others, the actors auditioning to play Oin, Balin, Dwalin, Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, were wholly unknown to me. I believe Mr. Mortensen was also auditioning for the part of Balin, in case he didn't make it as Thorin. I was quite in awe that Big People could make convincing Dwarves, but then, there were many things about the magic of movie-making which was beyond my comprehension.

There was one event, however, which took my breath quite away. A Man named Ian Holm was auditioning for my part; he played me in the movie about the Fellowship. The surprising thing about the whole bit was that he was almost my double, in build and face, though of course on the whole he was substantially larger. And having just scrutinized all my expressions in the hotel mirror, I could be quite certain of the resemblance. I noted on the list he played my scene with the trolls, that embarrassing bit about the I winced; why had I not thought to cut that out? Ah, well, better to keep the tale of my adventures intact, I suppose.

We didn't meet, not right then. He was preparing for his audition, and I am afraid I was quite lost in the crush of Big People. Finally the time for my audition had come, and I stepped up onto the raised platform of the stage in front of Peter, knees knocking. The backdrop was painted to look like my own Bag End, which made me feel a bit steadier. I pulled out my pipe and lit it, for that is how the scene begins. Peter threw his hands up and laughed, then gently came and put it out.

No real smoking here, I'm afraid, he said. Too cramped in here, and besides it's bad for your health.

I gave him a pointed look; after all, I must be nearly three times his age, and in perfect health. However, I did as he said and let him snuff my pipe, feeling a bit ridiculous puffing out imaginary smoke-rings. I had practiced them, too.

Well, along came Gandalf, as planned, and I yelled out,
Good morning! with a smile, genuinely glad to see him, though he looked odd without a beard, and only a makeshift cloak and hat flung on haphazardly. I myself wore the clothes I had packed, though Peter had gently but firmly made me wash them in a strange machine after the second day.

What do you mean? he replied, sounding quite as I remember Gandalf sounding all those years ago on that sunny morning in the Shire. Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?

All of them at once! I cried, trying to sound slightly bemused, but nonetheless cheerful, as I had then. And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! There's no hurry, we have all the day before us!

I sat awkwardly; my bones were older than that long-ago sunny day, and the ground was hard stone rather than sunwarmed grass. I mimed blowing a smoke-ring, feeling the fool.

Very pretty! Gandalf went on, eyes twinkling, I think, partially at my blush and partially at the lines he spoke. But I have no time to blow smoke-rings this morning. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging...

The scene went on, and all in all I did a fine job, quite creditable really, before exiting on shaky legs (presumably into my Hobbit-hole), which I think played quite to my advantage given the circumstances of the scene. How outlandish adventure had seemed at the time!

In any case, I went and got second breakfast after my audition, an odd, shiny round loaf of bread spread with a creamy, white butter-like substance. It was adequate, and even tasty once one got used to the strange, heavy feel of the bread in one's mouth. As I ate, I saw Ian Holm, my counterpart in the Fellowship movie, approach me after a long, whispered conversation with Peter. When I turned around, I saw him give a start, and stare at me with wide eyes. Then he seemed to remember his manners, coming up to introduce himself.

Hello, Mr. Baggins. My name is Ian Holm and I am honored to make your acquaintance, he said carefully, looking a bit wary.

Hello to you as well, I nodded. I hear you play my part in the movie of my nephew's adventure.

Er, yes, if that's all right with you, of course. He seemed uncomfortable.

Of course! I said. I just thought we might get acquainted a bit, to help you in that admirable role, I told him, smiling.

He, too, let a grin creep across his lips. I believe we'll get on very well, Mr. Baggins, he said.

And the same to you, I returned.

He left to give his audition, and I bit nervously into another as the heavy bread was called. I was beginning to quite like the taste- a hint of rosemary, garlic and something else which I couldn't quite identify. So the day passed, slowly in the crowded space. I had conversations variously with both Seans, Billy and finally Elijah, to whom I was beginning to take a liking. They all asked me to call them by their first names. I also had my first talk with Viggo Mortensen, and found him serious and interested in poetry, just as I was! Though his was of a different sort than my own verses.

They each auditioned for the appropriate part, and watching, I saw they were quite talented, though I would need to coach them a bit on the Dwarves' personalities. I saw Ian H.'s audition, and I must say he was even better at playing the role of Bilbo than I myself am! I sighed at that, may I say.

At the day's end, after several meals and more auditions, we were sent away to worry in our homes, or rather hotel rooms, I would suppose. Peter did not speak on the drive back, but rather seemed deep in thought. Sir Ian closed his eyes and rested against the chair in the metal chariot tiredly, and after a bit I did the same. We arrived at the hotel and I was smuggled up to my room, where I fell into a deep slumber without even getting into my night-clothes. The parts were to be announced the following day, and still I had not the energy to fret over it.

What the next day was to bring for myself and my Quest, I could not know.



Disclaimer:
I, Bilbo Baggins, do not own Tolkien's version of my adventures, as set down in the book The Hobbit and quoted at length during my audition. I do own a handsome new set of silver spoons, given me by the crew of There and Back Again: the Screenplay, with which I am pleased to no end. I do not, however, own myself or any people or characters mentioned here. I apologize for the wait you had to endure before reading this chapter, but so is life, and mine has been quite busy of late.