Ever since I saw Saving Private Ryan, after which I suddenly cared about WWII, I've cared about WWII.  To be fair to me, none of my grandparents served in the military directly during the war (though my grandmother, Loraine Funk, was in training to be a nurse before the war ended), so I guess that was something I lacked an understanding of.  Both my parents served in the Air Force, neither in any sort of fighting capacity, so the stories I got from them were mostly too-much-information-style stories about the swinging seventies, so seeing the most visceral portrayal of non-stop violence I'd ever seen was bound to make an even greater impact.

From that point on - for a while - I was probably at least slightly convinced that I understood war.  I used my "experience" of watching that film to write a pretty good WWII short story, based partially on a family rumor that my Uncle Pete had played dead at The Battle of the Bulge, that one of my mentors absolutely loved, comparing it to The Red Badge of Courage.  I don't know if that was accurate, but it carried me for quite some time.  I spent my first entertainment industry paycheck on a vintage WWII uniform, in the hopes of one day making my own WWII film.

I spent a good chunk of my summer before film school shooting black and white photos of my best friend and comedy partner, Dan, in the WWII uniform.  Insisting these were his grandfather, we posted it in various versions online over the years, recently settling on them as a glut of material for the WWII era of my project, The History of Dan and Jay's Comedy Hour.  

A few months into my second semester at film school at Columbia College Chicago, I'd shaved my waist-length hair and ever-present beard, looking for a change and keeping in mind possible acting roles.  I was convinced I'd only be a writer/producer, however, in full denial that I still wanted to be on camera.  I'd actually done plenty of short parts in other folks' short films during my time there, but a lot of this had to do with the fact that you were expected to participate in some way, and I was chosen numerous times to act in things.

If anything, I'd have maybe admitted that I still wanted to do voice over, but the dream was always to do a voice alongside Phil Hartman, who had died a few years before.  Beyond that, unless requested, I didn't seek out or endeavour toward anything too actor-y.  That said, I've never been one to forget a dream when a strong reminder comes along.  After shaving my head, a friend of a friend asked me if I'd like to be in his WWII short film.  I had my woolen WWII uniform, I looked more the part than I did with my long hair, and stood on the corner of Roosevelt and Michigan one hot summer day, only for the friend of a friend to not come by and pick me up, as I roasted in 100-degree heat.  In wool.

In 2006, when I was still doing extra work for money, I got my chance again.  I was to be a sailor in Clint Eastwood's Flags of Our Fathers.  At the time, I also had a vintage sailor uniform, though the fitting was with the film production's uniform, of course.  Just before we were to shoot, though, I got a full-time job working on America's Next Top Model, and a couple years later, when I found myself back in the extra game, I did end up working a day on 2008's The Pacific.  You can see me, and I got to watch William Sadler give a great WWII speech, after being trained on how to look and act like a Marine by the TV movie's military advisor.  It was a fun time, but not 100% what I'd hoped for.

Cut to January 2020.  I had quit my only source of income because of a terrible situation, and I had been trying out extra work yet again and finally started producing audiobooks, fulfilling at least a small part of my "doing voice over for a living" dream.  I was also auditioning for voice parts, but getting zero hits.  One part I tried out for was a radio announcer and some pilots for a Japanese language film entitled Gift of Fire.  Surprisingly, my audition (which included one down-to-earth take and one slightly more stereotypical Mid-Atlantic-accented version) did the trick, and myself and one other actor went to a home in the valley in LA and recorded the same two parts, with a little riffing.  They'd pick the takes that worked best.

It took some finagling, but I recently was able to get myself a digital screener of Gift of Fire, and, true-to-form, I doubted every time one of my parts came on screen.  I kept asking my wife "is that for sure me?"  I know my voice.  I know my inflection.  I know my training.  The two radio announcers were definitely me, but I couldn't let myself believe it.  Perhaps because of seemingly endless disappointments, I needed to be 100% certain I had heard myself.  I ran it by friends and family, who agreed I was being silly.  Eventually, I took a breath and enjoyed the fact that I'd lived a long-running dream - two of them, in fact, since I'd always wanted to do old-timey voice in something.  This was also the first time I'd seen my name in the credits of a feature film, with a role, where I hadn't produced it.

The film is, quite honestly, something I’m really honored to be involved in at all, even in this small way.  It’s the story of Japanese scientists trying to develop an atomic bomb before anyone else does. I don't know where/when it will properly premiere in the US, but fingers crossed it will get a little more exposure, soon.  Some dreams take a long time to come to fruition, but it helps to remember all those little dreams, so you can properly appreciate them when they come along.

Talk at ya later,

Jason Klamm
linktr.ee/jasonklamm

Originally published at Patreon.com/StolenDress