A game show’s open casting call shakes up the nuts
By Sarah Truckey
Photograph courtesy of NBC Universal
Among the 5,000 lovers of free money who showed up at East St. Louis’ Casino Queen earlier this summer to try out for the next season of NBC’s Deal or No Deal were men in kilts, women in nurses’ uniforms and teenagers in their shortest skirts and tiniest tank tops. Sipping coffee and nervously biting their fingernails, they discussed their favorite episodes with more enthusiasm than anyone should be able to muster while standing outside a casino. Some had gambled and drunk the night before; others looked more like they were auditioning for American Idol than for a weekly game show hosted by Howie Mandel.
“This isn’t a reality show,” the casting director yelled. “I’m not looking for the jerk or the slut! I want positive people!”
The suits wanted originality and, as the casting director said, “fun.” Wannabes could get a call the next night, next week or next to never; a dozen cities would be visited, thousands would be interviewed and 44 contestants would be chosen.
So does anyone in St. Louis really have a chance? We rate some of the dealers.
A man in his thirties, with striking blue eyes and a baseball cap, looked exhausted as he stood silently, expressionless. A regular at a local bar, he said the bartenders have no choice but to turn on Deal the nights he’s there. “I’ve been part of the show since the beginning,” he said. “It’s all about free money and fun!” No Deal
Decked out in piercings, mohawks and rock ’n’ roll T-shirts, three early-20s Edwardsville natives explained that they just needed money. “Just talk about yourself,” said one after his audition. “I tried not to get too much in their face, ’cause I haven’t brushed my teeth in a while.” No Deal
A mother-daughter combo wearing T-shirts that read “Don’t make the Deal!” got in line at 5:30 that morning. Money wasn’t what drove them to the tryouts; they saw the experience as grist for a good story. “The closest I’ve ever gotten is winning Britney Spears tickets on the radio,” volunteered the daughter, “but then she canceled her concert.” Deal