I Got This (6 page)

I’m so lucky to have been able to maintain my relationship with George—he’s now one of the backup singers for me on tour! He is such a dear friend. There will always be an inexplicable bond among all of us from season three, which I hope they all feel as much as I do.

A
fter
American Idol,
life was never the same again. I suddenly saw that I was a familiar face to so many strangers. They saw me as famous even though I had barely started my journey. I had, for the first time in my life, real
fans
from outside of Chicago. It was so cool!

At the time, Walter was still acting as my manager. Sharing my voice with others is what I knew I needed to do, so I hit the road on my own, doing club work and other appearances. God bless the gay community, who embraced my act from the very start. For a while
there, it seemed like I was always in Atlanta performing at a gay club.

I was only twenty-two years old and I had been on one of the biggest shows on television, on a coast-to-coast tour that I loved, and was now making a pretty good living singing in clubs on the weekends. But I was just getting started.

S
ix months after I finished
American Idol
, I was approached by Ed Whitlow, one of the directors I had worked with on the Disney cruise ship, to record an album. Ed said he knew a producer who had previously worked with *NSYNC in the past and who could work with me on a couple of songs. Ed reminded me of Walter in a lot of ways. He was willing to do whatever it took to get people to hear my voice. So, I left Chicago and moved to Orlando, Florida, to begin work on an album. Ed allowed me to stay at his home while we worked on putting a record deal together for me and then I went to work in the studio. I had no idea if anyone would ever hear the music we were working on, but I was simply happy to get into the studio.

For several months, the only thing I did was go to the studio
and record. I did a few performances whenever they came up. I took a quick trip to Los Angeles to audition for a part in the movie version of
Rent
—which I didn’t get. It seemed God had something else in store for me. In the meantime, I kept working.

In Florida, I was a bit off the radar. I also didn’t really focus on my weight at all. I ate what I wanted, relaxed when I could. It was like I needed to hit pause after the hectic but great year I had. I just focused on my music and making my first album.

It was around early spring when I began hearing about a buzz in Hollywood that Jennifer Hudson was being considered to play the role of Effie White in the upcoming film adaptation of the highly popular and successful musical
Dreamgirls.
I kept seeing articles and reading blogs that mentioned me for the part, but I hadn’t heard from anyone connected to the film. I had no idea why or how the rumor got started. I had never even seen the stage version. I was completely clueless about the story, music, or its history. I didn’t know anything about the character of Effie White. I only knew of Jennifer Holliday, the originator of the role, because Barry Manilow had spoken of her on
American Idol
. I had never even heard her sing, and I certainly hadn’t heard Effie’s signature song from the show.

As the rumors began to swirl, I needed to find out who Effie White was and why people were saying I was perfect to play her.

Set in the turbulent early 1960s to mid-1970s, the story of
Dreamgirls
follows the rise of three women—Effie, Deena, and
Lorrell, best friends from Chicago (in the movie they’re from Detroit), who form a singing group called the Dreamettes. The group goes to New York City to perform in a talent show at the Apollo Theater in Harlem. They don’t win the competition, but backstage they meet an ambitious young manager by the name of Curtis Taylor Jr. Curtis gets the group a spot as the backup singers for James “Thunder” Early, though he makes moves for them to eventually break out on their own. Curtis reshapes the group to “cross over” from the R&B genre to the more lucrative and emerging pop music scene. Effie White, who had been the lead singer of the group due to her amazing voice, is sidelined because as a full-figured woman, she doesn’t fit the group’s image as Curtis sees it. Effie’s journey is at the emotional center of the film and the show, as she resents the change in the group and is eventually replaced, only then to have her life spiral downward as her career stalls. But Effie hangs on and eventually finds success, and more important, peace.

Okay, so this was a role I could completely sink my teeth into. I knew exactly how it felt to be judged for your look. I knew what it was like to not get jobs because you didn’t fit an “image.” I knew what it was like to deal with people who thought there were things more important than talent. This was practically
my
life. This was a role I had to play.

It turns out that the producers of the film were in fact trying to reach me, but since I didn’t really have a manager at this point
(Walter had taken a job abroad during this time), no one associated with the film knew how to find me.

At the time, my cousin Marita Hudson was a publicist for
Ebony
magazine. We called ourselves J-Hud and M-Hud. She is well-known in the entertainment industry and everyone knows we are related. Luckily, one of the casting agents made the connection, too, and figured Marita could contact me. They finally put a call in to Marita and asked if she would relay the message that the producers of
Dreamgirls
would like to meet me.

Her phone call to me went something like this:

“Hello?”

“Girl, it’s Marita. Some casting people phoned and said they want to fly you to New York to audition for
Dreamgirls
!”

That was all I needed to hear.

“I waited, Jesus—you said it was going to happen and now it is here!” I screamed.

All I had to do now was pick a song to audition with and study the script that the studio sent to me ahead of time. After giving it a lot of thought, I decided to sing “Easy to Be Hard” from
Hair
because it was similar to the music from
Dreamgirls
and it was also from a musical that made it on Broadway. Plus, I thought the song really showcased my vocal ability.

Marita met me in New York so she could accompany me to the audition. A lot about that first audition is a blur, but I went into it thinking that I had to fully encompass the character of Effie. I felt
so connected to her—another big girl with a big voice. I wondered if all the women auditioning were full figured. I wondered if the producers were looking for someone with a different look than mine, even though I knew I could fill that role perfectly. I wore a simple black dress and readied my voice.

I’m almost certain that the film’s director, Bill Condon, an Oscar winner for his screenplay for
Gods and Monsters
and a nominee for the screenplay adaptation of
Chicago,
and casting director Jay Binder were both there the day I auditioned. Besides that, there isn’t much I can recall, except feeling like I had done a really good job.

“If we don’t call you by July, you probably didn’t get the part,” someone said to me before I left.

It was only April. I had to wait three months to see what happened next? That was going to be hard—much harder than results night on
American Idol
. Luckily I could go back to Florida and continue working on my album. And wait for news.

It turned out that 782 other women had auditioned for the role of Effie. The producers were intent on casting a relative unknown actress and searched the country, from Hollywood to Harlem, to find their Effie. All kinds of women, in all shapes and sizes, tried out for that part. Would you believe that the script called for Effie to be much taller and heavier than I was at the time? I guess I didn’t have to worry too much about not getting the role because I was too heavy. The irony of that became much clearer to me later.

May came and went, then June and then July—and I received no call. My heart sank with the thought that someone else had gotten the role. I couldn’t get Effie out of my head, and I hated thinking that another actress would play her. Had the audition not gone as well as I had thought?

But the producers hadn’t cast someone else. On the last day of July I received a call in Florida, telling me that I needed to go to Los Angeles for a second audition. This time they said they wanted me to sing
the
song.

Oh yeah.

That
song.

The casting department sent me the sheet music so I could prepare for my next audition. I only received part of the song, not the whole thing. I prepared that portion as best as I could. When I got to the audition, much to my surprise, the woman who went just before I did sang the
entire
song. I was panicking because I didn’t know the
whole
song. There was no way I could go into that room pretending I knew the entire song without failing. I certainly didn’t want to go in making excuses, as that is not my style. So I slowly walked through the doors and into the room, and proceeded to sing the part I knew. Needless to say, this wasn’t my finest hour. I was sure they would cross my name off their potential Effie list. I was devastated.

But they didn’t.

Bill Condon got word about what had happened with my sheet
music. About a month after that audition, someone called to sign me to a two-week-hold contract. This meant that I could be given the role sometime in the next two weeks, but that they weren’t obligated in any way to hire me. Also, for those two weeks, I couldn’t agree to do anything else. Of course, I quickly signed. Once again, I had been given another chance in a one-chance business. I couldn’t believe how blessed I was.

Those two weeks were pure torture. I was on pins and needles the whole time. I was so close…and yet I still felt so far. Nearly six months had lapsed since I first received the call to audition. They literally waited until the very last second to call. But they called.

I was once again asked to come out to Los Angeles, this time for a screen test. In fact, they asked me to drop everything and hop on a flight that same day.

“And Jennifer, this time, bring enough stuff with you in case you’re asked to stay.”

“How much stuff is that?” I asked.

“Everything you own.”

I ran out of the recording studio, drove home as fast as I could so I could quickly pack and make my flight. Somewhere in the middle of that hurricane moment, I got a fax of the full sheet music for “And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going” so I could learn the entire song. By the time those wheels touched down in La-La Land, I needed to know that baby inside and out.

I spent the entire six-hour flight singing to myself. I didn’t care
who heard me or what they thought. I’d occasionally apologize for disrupting the other passengers, but knew what I had to do. I had to focus on my goal. I had to keep the faith and not let anything get in the way of the job in front to me. I am sure there were a few people on board who recognized me from
American Idol,
but there were many more praying to God I’d shut my big mouth!

By the time we landed, it was very late at night. I went straight to bed so I would be well rested for my big day ahead. I woke up extra early the next morning, so excited to get to the audition that I was nearly jumping out of my skin.

I called my mama before heading to the studio. Being the good mama that she was, she said, “If some things don’t work out and you don’t get it, then that is okay because something else, something bigger will come.”

I heard her and understood why she was saying that to me, so on the ride over, I kept telling myself, “If it’s meant for me, it will be.” Those words are my mantra in life, and it has never let me down.

It soon became painfully obvious to me that my purpose for being in L.A. was not just another audition. This was a screen test—the last stop, the final step to getting the coveted part. I knew all the other big roles had been cast at this point. If I was cast as Effie, I’d be working alongside a roster of incredible talents—Jamie Foxx, Danny Glover, Beyoncé Knowles, and Eddie Murphy—just to name a few.

I was completely green at this point in my career. I had never had a screen test before. It was like being under a microscope, and I’d be lying if I told you that I didn’t feel self-conscious. The screen test took almost six hours. First, they dressed me as Effie, did my hair and makeup so I would look like Effie, and then checked every bit of my appearance. And I mean every bit. They shot my profile from every possible angle, looking at my body from head to toe. I felt scrutinized in a way that I never had before. This was like
American Idol
times a million. I felt like every inch of my body was on display.

When they finished shooting my screen test, the producers brought me into a room and asked me to do the pivotal scene where Effie sings her big song. I did this over and over and over again.

After several hours, I heard someone in the room whisper, “Her voice is the only one that has sustained the entire time.”

I did the best I could and gave it my very best effort. And before I left the studio, I was told I would be going home.

I got on a plane and went back to Orlando.

I wasn’t sure what to make of this. I didn’t have the part yet. But no one else did, either. So, when I walked through my front door, I placed my suitcase in the middle of the floor on the landing as a show of faith. I didn’t unpack a thing. I would just wait for them to call me back. I really hoped they would.

By the following morning, I was already back in the studio recording my album. It was a weekend, so our regular crew wasn’t
there. I was in the booth recording when I heard that I had a phone call. I instinctively knew it was about the movie. I stepped outside to take the call. I stood still, waiting to hear my fate.

“Jennifer Hudson…” It was Bill Condon calling. He spoke slowly and methodically, as if he was about to deliver a verdict in a courtroom.

I was barely breathing, waiting with fantastic anticipation as my heart lay on the ground.