The chances are, well, slim. But that didn't stop more than 300 people from waiting in line for hours Saturday to audition for "The Biggest Loser," a reality TV show about weight loss.
When the whole thing is over — the waiting, the fat jokes, the crying, the home videos, the call-back interviews — the NBC television show will pick 14 people out of an estimated 50,000 hopefuls from across the United States. Those 14 will then compete for a chance to win $250,000 when the show's fourth season airs next spring.
Saturday's casting call in Salt Lake City drew everyone from the slightly overweight to the morbidly obese. Hopefuls traveled from Colorado, Idaho, Montana, Oregon and California, including the Rev. Roby Warren of Celebration Church in Del Mar, Calif. She had been in line since 6 a.m. after flying in from San Diego, where she had previously tried out for the show. She was carrying several orange placards, including two that read "I used the last of my credit to get here" and "To be proud, to be strong, to be a hottie."
A big personality is as important as poundage at these casting calls. "Outgoing, charismatic and candid" is the way the show's press release puts it. If you can joke about the fact that, as a Salt Lake City policeman, you're a cliche when you walk into a doughnut shop, so much the better.
"I love doughnuts," Salt Lake police officer Dax Shane told casting directors Tad Frank and Leeat Meyerovitz.
The open casting call also drew police dispatcher Pam Thompson from Tooele, who was first in line at 1:20 a.m. Saturday. Nine hours later she sat at a conference table at KSL-TV, along with Shane and four other "Biggest Loser" wannabes, and told a story that would be repeated 300 times over, in various forms, as the day wore on.
Many of the would-be contestants have been overweight since junior high or earlier, nearly all worry about the health effects of excess weight, and most have gained and lost and gained weight their whole lives. Shane weighed 310 pounds, lost 40 pounds and "recently found 15 pounds; it was over at Denny's." Thompson lost 116 pounds after gastric bypass surgery 11 years ago, then gained 65 back.
How did it feel to weigh less, casting director Frank asked.
"I could tie my shoes," Thompson answered. "And I could sit and watch TV with my legs curled up."
Like the show's name itself, the conversations Saturday were often funny, with a sadness just below the surface. For the sadder parts, Frank brought along boxes of tissue.
Judy Glommen of West Haven, Weber County, talked about how a co-worker once told her "you don't eat very much for a fat person." Jaime Gilson of Riverton cried when she talked about her mother, who committed suicide after being overweight her whole life.
Jeff Brodsky of Bailey, Colo., has tried "every diet I could think of" and once gained 40 pounds as a vegetarian. Formerly a professional clown, he vowed after a mild heart attack seven years ago that he wouldn't put on his clown costume again until he loses 75 pounds.
Like the other 300 people who auditioned Saturday, Brodsky is hoping the show's regimen of supervised weight loss — six weeks at a ranch supplied with a professional nutritionist and trainer, plus the competition itself — will be the motivation he needs to take the pounds off and keep them off.
Still, Brodsky couldn't help but see the missed opportunity on Saturday as all those people stood in line along 300 West: "Where are the catering trucks? You've got a line of fat people here and no food?"
The mood was cheerful and collegial, despite the food shortage. Mark Hersom of Cedar City, who weighs 425 pounds, told a few requisite fat jokes as he waited. For example: "I'm a light eater. I only eat when it's light."
Follow-up call-back auditions will be held today through Tuesday. But even those people who weren't called in for second interviews should send in videotapes, Frank explained.
E-mail: jarvik@desnews.com