Yes, That Elf You See on TV Is Me!

6 min readDec 7, 2019

It was a sticky hot Los Angeles summer afternoon. After booking two of my first eight auditions since the move from Cincinnati, it had been years since I’d booked anything major. This Toyota commercial was a big opportunity: in the business, we call it a Network National. It runs in all markets across the country on broadcast and cable channels. Depending on how many times it airs, you can buy a Yaris… or a Lexus.

I think I got the chance to audition because I haven’t uploaded a head shot to my acting profile in 10 years.

The description called for us to wear… “Green or red. You pick if you want to dress as the badass gearhead or cheerful elf.”

If you know anything about the way I look, I don’t think “badass gearhead” springs to mind.

So, I threw on a bunch of my cheerful green and cheerful red clothing and my cheerful jester hat and cheerfully drove to Hollywood (in my Acura) with bells on. Literally. The jester hat jingles. Cheer ended when I ran up against that Hollywood monster: parking. Out of time and out of frustration, I jammed my SUV into a tiny space at Yum Yum Donuts and began the long walk to the audition. Sometimes, there are moments that seem to capture where you are in life. Like Prince Andrew, I hardly sweat, but the perspiration underneath these crazy layers of clothing had started. Just as I got to Melrose, this huge double-decker Hollywood Stars Tourbus pulled up. I could see all of the tourists peering at me, thinking, “What in the world is this dude wearing in the middle of September?” And I heard myself thinking, “What in the world am I wearing in the middle of September?” It takes a lot for me to feel an ounce of shame, but this was humiliating. What was I DOING?

“What you think I rap for — to push a f*ckin’ Rav-4?”
— Kanye West

I mean, I was on-tour with my latest solo show, “The Man in The Middle,” gearing up to headline The Cutting Room in Manhattan. I’m doing my part to save the empire by changing the hearts and minds of my fellow Americans, and the next thing I know, I’m sweltering through a pasty pastry parking lot, dressed like a dimunitive ethereal being.

But comedian Isaac Witty summed up show business when he wrote on his head shot:

“Thursday, Letterman. Friday, Dayton.”

I stopped in my tracks and almost turned around and walked back to my vehicle. The whole thing just seemed so stupid. Begrudgingly, I carried on. A moment later, a woman also auditioning (you could tell from all the splashes of red and green) and also running late had just parked and I helped her read the crazy parking signs (somebody should do a bit on this) and she was so thankful that my assisting her put me back in a decent mood. Still, I was thinking that I’d just hop in, do this, and hop out. Proving yet again that there doesn’t seem to be much correlation in my life between positive thinking and positive outcomes…

I booked it.

Maybe it’s karma. My parents have bought only American cars their entire lives… I know… it’s strange since most Indians in America buy Japanese cars. The one foreign car they purchased was a Toyota Corolla. So, maybe it’s car-ma.

(Feeling this lucky, I should ping Adam Carolla and try to do his podcast. Corolla. Carolla. Close enough.)

Anyway, the ad was shooting in a couple of weeks and, as mentioned, I was planning on being in my favorite city in the world — New York — for two straight weekends. Turns out that, of course, the week bookended by those two weekends was when I needed to be in LA. I swear I think Hollywood takes a look at my calendar and then tries to find the worst time for me to have to fly back. One stroke of luck was that it shot in West Covina, CA, on a Wednesday, which was the ideal day for me to have to do this cross-continental nonsense.

Shoots, whether commercial or theatrical, are so darned fun. You have to get there early — the call time is often around 6 AM for cast (and 4 AM for crew — yikes), but the people are great and the food spread is dope and they cater (literally) to almost your every whim. It took me years to figure out that they don’t so much care how you feel; they care how you appear. You have to look good since you’re going to be on national television, even if it’s for a few seconds.

It was quite a thrill to meet the amazing and kind Toyotathon Jan, or as I called her, making a reference to the Progressive Insurance ads, “the cool Flo.” My fellow comedian friend, Owen Smith, booked the role opposite Laurel Coppock (her real name), and couldn’t have been more legit. He introduced me to Jan… he and I hung out on-set… had lunch together… Super happy for him to book such a big spot. Congrats, brother.

In fact, over lunch, I reminded Owen that he has played a big role in my own life. Years ago, we were chatting at Russell Peters’ house (Jack Nicholson told me I need to stop name-dropping) and the 6'5" Owen remarked that I could afford to go a lot edgier onstage. He said it came down to whether or not the audience members felt that you could assault them. He said for him, he has to be nice, because he’s such an imposing presence. “For you, man, you’re tiny. You can’t harm them. Use that.” Stupendous advice.

The casting people must’ve had the same idea when they cast me as the only man amongst four small women. At least they made me the lead elf? To that end…

The Director was really nice and hands-on. We did about 20 takes of an idea he improvised… Jan and I wave at each other and she calls me by my name, “Hiya, Frank.” To get into character (I’m a method actor), I asked if that was short for Francis. He said, “Nah, you’re a Frankie.” And to give myself a backstory, I live in Burbank anyway, so I was Frankie Valley.

Sadly, this exchange didn’t make the cut so I don’t have a line, but I’m technically a lead. Besides, how many people get the front and the back of their head on TV in under 30 seconds? (Didn’t I just make this crack this week? “The new iPhone 11 billboards show the back of the phone. I couldn’t just put the back of my head on my dating profile.”)

And hey, the ultimate method actor, Marlon Brando, never had to (got to?) do a Toyota ad, but he did play Marc Antony, and so we both know something about lending our ears.

In conclusion, yours truly, Frankie the Elf, just wants to give a major shout-out to the wonderful folks at AKA Talent Agency, Toyota, Jan, Owen, my elvish thespians (talented and funny and awesome hanger-outers), the entire cast and crew (especially the makeup person who created and attached our prosthetic ears), God (who made my ears so big that she didn’t have to work that hard on mine), my family and friends, the auditioning parking woman, all those tourists on that Hollywood bus, and all my homies in the county in cell block six.

My resourceful wife found the ad. Enjoy.