The Great Outdoor Fight Netflix Series that Almost Was, Pt. 3 — More Casting

Please do not share any of the photos from this post anywhere. I don't think it would prick any of these actors' dander-sheathing, but I worry nonetheless. If my experience in television taught me anything (jury's out), it's that studios specialize in sweeping litigation first, and entertainment a distant second. But only if the litigation has first flattened and bleached any delicate grasses of spontaneity and comfort.  

Voice casting was the big 🎶la-la🎶 indulgent part of the project. You swan in, a virtual nobody, and are allowed to play with the Fabergé bonbons — in this case, veteran actors who have to use the drive-through instead of the cafe when ordering the Starbucks beverage that's always on the desk next to them — like you were Anna Wintour elbowing unpaid interns in the throat. That is to say, it took a moment to adjust to a position of power that came so suddenly, and without apparent training or merit. It was another of my many sudden Hollywood insights.

When last we spoke on the Achewood/GOF Netflix series — which, to my discredit, was September of 2023 — I was waxing on the great shakes Noel Fisher had turned in when reading for Roast Beef. With Noel locked, it was time to cast Ray.

Because it is impossible, casting Ray is a daunting undertaking. Since the earliest days of his existence, I imagined him to sound a lot like Chef from South Park, but over the years it became apparent that for every reader he was very, very certainly somebody else. Pendleton thought Jack Black had the right suite of lovable, chaotic energy; others had suggested everyone from Sinbad to Bernie Mac to an Apple //c silently scrolling pi to one billion places.

(I also reminded myself frequently that if this thing actually got on the air, 99.999% of the Netflix audience would be a tabula rasa with no preconceived notion of what anybody was supposed to sound like, and I'd just stop accepting email from long-time readers.) 

So, knowing that any casting choice was certain to make absolutely everyone mad, I went with Steve Howey, who had worked with Noel on Shameless for eleven seasons. Steve's character on Shameless was very Ray: a deeply loyal, unflappable, hedonistic doofus who was often seen in a black thong and large bathrobe. I also thought their history together would be a boon in the voice booth, as their Zoom-call chemistry had been natural and brotherly.

I wasn't, surprisingly, wrong.

Because Steve was born effortlessly tall and handsome, it's easy to assume his life has been a cakewalk of limbsy models and Persols; either by nature or through studious application he turned out to be quite conversant with that modality. His performance captured Ray's easy-money, never-saw-a-challenge-he-could-recognize-as-such persona, and his inherent popular-guy friendliness played off of Noel's fifty-pound lines so well that I grew paranoid I wasn't directing them hard enough.

Next time: assembling the pilot.