You simply cannot wear a red Speedo in the rain.
That much is obvious. Everyone knows that.
That’s why, after two days of torrential downpour in the City of Angels, God has opened the heavens, if only for a few hours, so 2,000 actors, models and wannabes can strip down to their bathing suits under a blue sky and storm the marina at an open casting call for Fox’s reboot of “Baywatch.”
People of all ages and body mass indexes line up like spandex-wearing cattle outside the Marina del Rey Marriott on a recent Wednesday morning and are ushered to the sand for a group photo. A 20-something man cups his genitals as he jogs to the lifeguard tower in nothing but red underwear. A middle-aged woman does some last-minute scissor kicks in the parking lot. The 50-degree weather doesn’t stop some contenders from slow-motion running in the water. Yes, the dream of becoming Hollywood’s next David Hasselhoff or Pamela Anderson is palpable.
Sami Drasin for Variety
“How many of you actually know CPR?” asks a photographer perched on a ladder. Almost everybody raises their hands. “I could save your life,” one man tells me later, without cracking a smile. His manscaped, melanoma-spotted body glistens with oil. I wonder, Am I in danger?
With a straight-to-series order, the reboot will pick up where “Baywatch” left off more than 25 years ago in Los Angeles. The lifeguard drama was a global phenomenon that turned the beaches of Southern California — and the hot, bronzed bodies that patrolled them — into a symbol of American aspiration. The show reached an audience of 1 billion viewers per episode, an impossible feat in today’s skewed content climate. But with a wide-net casting call doubling as a promotional event, Fox is hoping to make an early splash and inspire even a fraction of the original’s audience to return to the sand.
Fourteen thousand people submitted reels and headshots, and only 2,000 of them were invited to audition. Hundreds flew across the country to spend 45 seconds reading a few lines of dialogue. Among the people gathered outside the hotel: A mother and daughter with zero acting experience who came in from Colorado. A math tutor in a self-diagnosed “midlife crisis.” An influencer who had never heard of “Baywatch” until she saw the casting call. A woman caked in white face paint who explains, bluntly, “I’m a clown.”
“This whole thing is not normal,” says reboot lead Stephen Amell, mingling with his potential future co-stars.
Sami Drasin for Variety
“I’ve been acting for a while, and I’ve always been told, ‘You’re too blonde; your boobs are too big,’” says Athena Vas, a bodybuilder and the winner of Season 2 of the Greek version of “The Bachelor.” She turns around to show me the back of her bathing suit, which is stamped with her first name. “So this is the perfect role.”
A 77-year-old woman named Margaret “BB” Dupré — clad in a pink cowboy hat, a studded black corset and fingerless gloves — worked as a stand-in for Anderson on the original series (“Any part where Pamela wouldn’t get her hair wet, it was me”). Her business card bears a photo of her in a swimsuit and reads: “Painter/Sculptor/Writer/Psychic.”
Heading toward the hotel, not everyone in line is a beach-ready bodybuilder. “I figure lifeguards need moms and neighbors and fruit-stand vendors,” says Denise Koek, an improv actor wearing a sunhat, a blouse, an overshirt and leggings.
While the series is set to begin shooting in March, the range of opportunities is indeed wide. The producers are looking to cast lifeguards, barflies, extras and even series regulars. “We have a season’s worth of people that need to be saved on the beach,” showrunner Matt Nix tells me. Some roles have yet to be written. “Walking through the lobby, I was like, ‘Oh, wait a second. We didn’t even think about this character, and I just saw three of them,’” Nix says. “I literally just texted the head of casting for Fox.”
For many, “Baywatch” 2.0 marks more than just a reboot but rather a bold bet on Los Angeles, which has yet to fully recover from COVID, strikes and fires. (For a visual, drive up the Pacific Coast Highway and watch the waves smack the bones of charred beach homes that look like ancient ruins.) Multiple previous attempts to revive “Baywatch” were to be shot in South Africa or Australia, but thanks to a $21.1 million California tax credit, the show will be filmed on Venice Beach.
Sami Drasin for Variety
“L.A. has been punched really hard,” says David Chokachi, who returns as Cody Madison in the reboot. “This is like putting the paddles on the city — you know, the defib?”
As far as the tone of the new series, Nix insists the reboot is not campy. “We never make fun of the original,” says McG, who will direct the pilot. “Anything that proves to be as zeitgeisty as ‘Baywatch’ doesn’t deserve snark.” He brings up “Top Gun: Maverick” as a guiding light for how to honor nostalgic IP with a bighearted blockbuster vision.
It is getting cold and windy in the late afternoon as 20 casting directors cycle through auditions with thousands of actors. Press aren’t permitted past the metal detectors that lead to the holding room, where hundreds of actors wait — just on the other side of a black curtain — for their chance at Hollywood stardom. If they impress an initial casting director, they will move on to the next round. Finally, if they’re lucky, they’ll read for the “Baywatch” producers.
As the event winds down, I meet a teenager named Dane Duda, who is visibly shaken as he exits an audition room. “Oh my God,” he says. “That went so well. They loved me!”
His friend, Elle Evan Casselman, has never acted, but her name has “SAG card” written all over it. “My parents got married in Vegas after two weeks of knowing each other, on 11/11. So I’m named Elle Evan,” she tells me. “Say it fast!”
Casselman and Duda met for the first time today, two weeks after their mothers “yapped” to each other in the waiting room of a doctor’s office. The moms exchanged their children’s TikTok handles.
“I left that room smiling because I know I gave my full heart,” Casselman says of her audition. “At the end of the day, that’s all I can do.”
Duda chimes in: “And God’s got us. God’s on our side.”
Sadly, they are sent doggy paddling home.
Sami Drasin for Variety
Scanning the crestfallen actors eating chicken wraps in the Marriott lobby, I soon feel I have seen enough heartbreak for one day. But as the sun begins to dip over the marina, I can’t help wondering what is going on behind closed doors. What if, I think, the next star of “Baywatch” was right in front of them all along? Maybe I — a writer who loathes the camera and never so much as appeared in a school play — am the sun-kissed prince that was promised.
Compelled by a strange urge, I turn around, creep toward the private area of the hotel and consider my options. Crew members stand guard, cruising the hallway. I peer inside a trash can and find a crumpled-up sticker — contestant 00937. I stash my press pass, put on the sticker and slink in past the gates.
Hundreds of actors sit anxiously, reciting dialogue to themselves. A sheepadoodle with a ring buoy lopes into the room as a sunburned gentleman holds up his phone to take a selfie, adjusting the angle to ensure both of his nipples are in the frame.
I take a seat next to a handsome 24-year-old Penn Badgley type from Myrtle Beach. “I’m Logan Polson,” he says. “Which part are you reading for?”
Sami Drasin for Variety
I do what all great actors do and improvise: “I forgot the name of the character. I lost my paper.”
Another actor, named Alex, turns around and hands me his sides. “I’m off book,” he smiles. “Anthony Hopkins style.”
“Let’s read,” Logan says, nudging me on the shoulder, sensing I am out of my depth. “I’m glad you’re here, dude.”
Suddenly, I am a lifeguard on the verge of a breakdown.
ETHAN
That guy slipped right out of my hands. I saw him go under.
LOGAN
And I caught him and he was fine! So you made a mistake!
I’m not built for the beach, but Logan is talking me off the ledge.
LOGAN
Think of the people who will get hurt if you quit. What about them?
His face lights up. He’s not looking at the page.
Ethan looks at Logan, cracking a smile. Their eyes meet.
ETHAN
So this is about a bunch of imaginary future people you think I’m gonna save?
LOGAN
(takes Ethan’s hand)
Well, not just about them.
My heart races as I claw myself out of the fantasy. “You did great, dude,” Logan says. And for a second, I believe him. A smile washes over my face as I feel the warm glow of an event coordinator hovering over me.
“They’re ready for you.”
And in that moment, I realize I have drifted too far out to sea.