be introduced to my new boyfriend. Oh, hi, there. The kissing scenes—you’d think that would be awkward, kissing someone you barely know—but they just don’t feel real. Neither person means it. It’s the job. I just kiss the same way I’d pretend to sleepwalk or to gag at the sight of Jackson’s closet. It’s a stunt. Though I have to admit I was a little excited when I saw that Miley was going to kiss Jake. I thought Cody Linley was dreamy. And of course I loved it in season two when Jesse McCartney guest starred. I’ve been a fan of his forever.
Toward the end of that first season, superstars like Dolly Parton, Brooke Shields, and Vicki Lawrence came in to guest star. Maybe I should have been intimidated, but it was our show. They were visiting a place where my costars and I spent our lives. It was my comfort zone. Most of the time. Except when Miley Stewart had to parasail wearing a chicken costume. And later when I had to wear a Sumo wrestler fatsuit, I completely freaked out. I thought wearing a wig was bad, but those huge costumes gave me new respect for the people who wear Mickey Mouse suits at Disneyland. I could not handle that. I guess I get claustrophobic. I’m usually fine, but for those scenes I wanted my mom right there.
I got superlucky with Hannah Montana . From the very beginning, I felt like I was her. I didn’t really have to do anything to get into character or to try to feel what Hannah felt. Those are skills that I developed later, but in the beginning, I just felt as though the part was written perfectly for me. Even learning lines was easy. I’m a freak of nature. I can read a scene twice and get it. Before I got the part, I never worried about my memorization skills (in hindsight I probably should have!), but it turned out I didn’t need to. Sure, I still messed up a few times, but that was part of the learning process.
I was kind of the same way about rehearsing. Run lines? Practice? Not my favorite. My favorite days of the work week are the days when we actually film the show. I think of it as the real day, the real deal. Rehearsals feel like slow motion, molasses, compared to the adrenaline rush of performing.
All that aside, I wouldn’t trade any of it, slow times and all. And in the very beginning, everything was so new that nothing felt remotely slow. I remember the first time I really got gussied up for the red carpet was for the premiere of Chicken Little . It was a Disney movie and I wanted to see it, so I asked for tickets to the premiere. Mom and I went shopping for a fancy dress at Charlotte Russe. I remember saying, “Mom, can’t I tell them I have a premiere?” I thought they’d give me extra help or bring me a glass of sparkling water or something. Mom said, “No one’s going to believe you. Do you know how many people in L.A. come into stores and say that?”
I ended up wearing a black blazer with a cross on it. I thought I was cute—but compared to what I get to wear these days . . . When we went to the movie I walked down the red carpet, toward all the flashing cameras and photographers yelling stars’ names. “Zach! Joan! Steve!” When I strolled by, the cameras were lowered. There was silence. They had no idea who I was. So much for my red-carpet fantasy.
When the movie was over, Mom and I went to the after-party. Everyone was talking and mingling and everyone seemed to know each other. We got our plates of food and looked for a place to sit. All the tables were full of people who had obviously been in the business a lot longer than me. There was no place to sit. So we plopped down on the floor to eat. Nobody noticed us. We were the biggest losers in history. It was pretty humbling.
The Spotlight
September 13, 2006
This is the beginning and the end. The beginning of a long journey and a new path, and the end of an ordinary lifestyle. I hope I find love, adventure, fun, and excitement.
D espite my mouthful of humble pie, life kept
Toward the end of that first season, superstars like Dolly Parton, Brooke Shields, and Vicki Lawrence came in to guest star. Maybe I should have been intimidated, but it was our show. They were visiting a place where my costars and I spent our lives. It was my comfort zone. Most of the time. Except when Miley Stewart had to parasail wearing a chicken costume. And later when I had to wear a Sumo wrestler fatsuit, I completely freaked out. I thought wearing a wig was bad, but those huge costumes gave me new respect for the people who wear Mickey Mouse suits at Disneyland. I could not handle that. I guess I get claustrophobic. I’m usually fine, but for those scenes I wanted my mom right there.
I got superlucky with Hannah Montana . From the very beginning, I felt like I was her. I didn’t really have to do anything to get into character or to try to feel what Hannah felt. Those are skills that I developed later, but in the beginning, I just felt as though the part was written perfectly for me. Even learning lines was easy. I’m a freak of nature. I can read a scene twice and get it. Before I got the part, I never worried about my memorization skills (in hindsight I probably should have!), but it turned out I didn’t need to. Sure, I still messed up a few times, but that was part of the learning process.
I was kind of the same way about rehearsing. Run lines? Practice? Not my favorite. My favorite days of the work week are the days when we actually film the show. I think of it as the real day, the real deal. Rehearsals feel like slow motion, molasses, compared to the adrenaline rush of performing.
All that aside, I wouldn’t trade any of it, slow times and all. And in the very beginning, everything was so new that nothing felt remotely slow. I remember the first time I really got gussied up for the red carpet was for the premiere of Chicken Little . It was a Disney movie and I wanted to see it, so I asked for tickets to the premiere. Mom and I went shopping for a fancy dress at Charlotte Russe. I remember saying, “Mom, can’t I tell them I have a premiere?” I thought they’d give me extra help or bring me a glass of sparkling water or something. Mom said, “No one’s going to believe you. Do you know how many people in L.A. come into stores and say that?”
I ended up wearing a black blazer with a cross on it. I thought I was cute—but compared to what I get to wear these days . . . When we went to the movie I walked down the red carpet, toward all the flashing cameras and photographers yelling stars’ names. “Zach! Joan! Steve!” When I strolled by, the cameras were lowered. There was silence. They had no idea who I was. So much for my red-carpet fantasy.
When the movie was over, Mom and I went to the after-party. Everyone was talking and mingling and everyone seemed to know each other. We got our plates of food and looked for a place to sit. All the tables were full of people who had obviously been in the business a lot longer than me. There was no place to sit. So we plopped down on the floor to eat. Nobody noticed us. We were the biggest losers in history. It was pretty humbling.
The Spotlight
September 13, 2006
This is the beginning and the end. The beginning of a long journey and a new path, and the end of an ordinary lifestyle. I hope I find love, adventure, fun, and excitement.
D espite my mouthful of humble pie, life kept
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