I'm back — kind of.
In looking back over my previous ramblings, I'm struck by a number of recurring themes. One of them was attrition. I suspect it was largely my own fear of becoming "just another casualty" that probably had me ruminating on it time and again. And now I find myself standing at the precipice.
I can't say that I've lost my love of acting. Far from it. I've just had a certain amount of Life (and/or the pain that comes with it) during the past couple of years that has me thinking — perhaps for the first time ever — that I want some things more than an acting career.
What's really peculiar is that the "career" I had at the time I left off with my last blog entry hasn't diminished substantially in the intervening time. Check that: actually it has diminished substantially — everyone's has (the market in Chicago sucks right now). But I can't say it's diminished any more than it would have had the events of the last couple of years not happened. I'm still exclusively represented by the same agents, I still land as many union jobs per year as I guess most of my peers do, I finally qualified for a pension from the Screen Actors Guild when I retire, and I'm not on bad terms with any of my old friends and acquaintances. So it's not like it's a matter of not being able to "cut it". Strangely, my thoughts have very little to do with disappointment or anger or whatever over my level of accomplishment.
But I'm literally overwhelmed at the moment with describing what it's been like to have moved, during the past two years, so far afield from the focus my life used to have.
I know already this is going to be the suckiest blog entry I've ever made, but hey, it beats silence (if ever so slightly).
I forget at the moment whether I've mentioned this before, but I remember my first fairly long theatre contract following graduate school. It was a repertory situation, and each show ran for 6-7 weeks. I remember thinking during graduate school that I couldn't conceive why people asked any of our "visiting artists" — Broadway actors, the Royal Shakespeare Company, the Mabou Mines, etc. — the recurring question "How do you keep a show fresh when you've been doing it for months/years/as long as you have?" (I mean, it's the most exciting, rewarding thing in the world to do with your time, right? So why waste time asking questions about keeping it fresh?) Well, after doing rep for a year, I began to understand.
I'd never before experienced weariness at the end of a run. I'd never before experienced a show growing stale, or doing a role by rote. I hadn't ever experienced a lot of things I discovered that year. And it just royally pissed me off to discover I wasn't so exceptional that I wasn't prone to the same dynamics as everyone else. Not only that, so full of impatient hubris was I back at the Conservatory that I hadn't been listening to our many visiting professionals, so I actually found myself wondering at times how I was ever going to keep this show I was in fresh.
So now I find myself dealing with a dynamic I've never experienced before, and I guess I am, once again, just royally pissed. I never thought this would happen to me. Ever.
More later.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Friday, June 16, 2006
Damn Phone!
Believe it or not, I've actually been doing a fearsome amount of blogging since my last entry here. Only problem is it's all been on my phone. I discovered one day in May that my overly fancy new phone has a dumbed-down version of MS Word on it, so anytime I'm stuck on the 'L', sitting in the waiting room at the dentist, lying prostrate on a saloon floor, etc., I just whip out the little bugger and add to the single loooong, undoubtedly boring, entry I've been writing about...
...well, I guess I'll just have to post it.
...well, I guess I'll just have to post it.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
More on Casting Directors
Thanks to Anonymous and OhioProf for their comments on my last post. I'm inspired to throw a few reactionary tidbits together here.
First, about Casting Directors...
I hate saying it, but yeah — sometimes I do wonder whether they really know what's "good." The problem to a certain extent, I think, is that casting is indeed rather parochial — it's easy to think that the talent you call in, and the results you get from the particular way in which you run your auditions, are representative of the larger talent pool (or the best that can be wrung from the talent pool) if you constantly draw your actors from one place and/or you don't provide an environment where the talent can surprise the end-client. And I would even dispute that some casting directors really know what their clients want. If they did, I'm not sure they would do so much directing during auditions. Unless the client is a real dick, the norm by far is to provide a variety of reads within the parameters of the casting specs. Directors, for instance, want to know that an actor's not a "Single-Note Sally" — that they'll be able to go in different directions if need be — so why some CDs practically give line readings to actors is beyond me (especially in a town known for its pool of improvisers). Of course, I can't fault CDs for wanting to follow what's worked best for them in the past, but if, for instance, you only ever pull your talent from edgy, provocative theatres, then you shouldn't be surprised if your client wonders why few people on your casting tape don't seem to have a great deal of comic timing (not to mention camera technique).
Oh and secondly, thanks for the encouragement to go into writing, but the fact is that I decided a while back not to be one of those actors who tries to be a "hyphenate" — a la actor-director, actor-writer, etc. No disrespect towards Sam Shephard, William H. Macy, et alia who can do it (and do it well), but I have enough distractions in my life, and what I really need to do is focus my creative energies more so I can excel in one area, rather than dissipate those energies by dabbling in lots of different things. 'Sides, I generally think one should have a passion for what one does, and while I enjoy writing, my real passion lies in front of the footlights, so thence I go.
First, about Casting Directors...
I hate saying it, but yeah — sometimes I do wonder whether they really know what's "good." The problem to a certain extent, I think, is that casting is indeed rather parochial — it's easy to think that the talent you call in, and the results you get from the particular way in which you run your auditions, are representative of the larger talent pool (or the best that can be wrung from the talent pool) if you constantly draw your actors from one place and/or you don't provide an environment where the talent can surprise the end-client. And I would even dispute that some casting directors really know what their clients want. If they did, I'm not sure they would do so much directing during auditions. Unless the client is a real dick, the norm by far is to provide a variety of reads within the parameters of the casting specs. Directors, for instance, want to know that an actor's not a "Single-Note Sally" — that they'll be able to go in different directions if need be — so why some CDs practically give line readings to actors is beyond me (especially in a town known for its pool of improvisers). Of course, I can't fault CDs for wanting to follow what's worked best for them in the past, but if, for instance, you only ever pull your talent from edgy, provocative theatres, then you shouldn't be surprised if your client wonders why few people on your casting tape don't seem to have a great deal of comic timing (not to mention camera technique).
Oh and secondly, thanks for the encouragement to go into writing, but the fact is that I decided a while back not to be one of those actors who tries to be a "hyphenate" — a la actor-director, actor-writer, etc. No disrespect towards Sam Shephard, William H. Macy, et alia who can do it (and do it well), but I have enough distractions in my life, and what I really need to do is focus my creative energies more so I can excel in one area, rather than dissipate those energies by dabbling in lots of different things. 'Sides, I generally think one should have a passion for what one does, and while I enjoy writing, my real passion lies in front of the footlights, so thence I go.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Peanut Butter and Chocolate
There's this adage that applies to bite-and-smile commercials — "don't act so suprised." Bite-and-smiles are those spots where the talent bites into a food product and reacts (favorably, one presumes — though come to think of it I once bit into a club sandwich where the food dressers had encouraged the bacon strips to glisten under the lights by brushing Pine-Sol on them; I think the clients saved my "hideous revulsion" reaction for their gag reel).
Anyway, a common mistake many actors make when taking a bite/sip/lick of a food product during an audition is to act surprised. Unless it's written into the copy that the character is outright skeptical about the taste of this thing in front of them (the only example I can think of being those old Reese's commercials, "Hey! You got peanut butter on my chocolate!"), acting surprised that it tastes good is basically tantamount to saying the product looks like sh**, or the Brand Name doesn't inspire confidence, or that this product stands out because it DOESN'T kill you. In other words, if it's that good, what sort of vomit-inducing experience were you expecting and why? (So what you typically see instead during a good bite-and-smile is a look of pleasant expectation before the bite, then a reaction afterwards that says the expectation was happily confirmed or, perhaps, even exceeded because they'd forgotten just how gosh-darned good this stuff really is.)
How this all relates is that this week was, as predicted by a realtor friend of mine, much busier than last week (they predicted that the upcoming Easter holiday would combine with Tax Day to dramatically slow down a lot of different industries), so I actually had quite a few auditions, both on-camera and voiceover. And one of those on-camera auditions was for a casting firm that rarely calls me in and, as I think I've written before, when they DO call me in they always act surprised when I don't fall on my face. Well, that's exactly what happened once again. I came in, the casting director was very business-like and doing annoying things (more on that later), then I did my bit, and afterwards the first words out of their mouth were, "Evan, that was GOOD!"
Gee, don't act so suprised.
Y'know what was different this time though? I think I figured out that it's just the way they are. For whatever reason, they're either cursed with a condescending way of expressing themselves to other people or, more likely, they really DON'T expect a lot from actors. I think it's more of the latter, simply because of those other annoying things they do. For instance, they'll call an actor into the room, then say, "Wait until the camera's rolling before beginning." (Isn't that a bit obvious?) Or, "Stand on the mark to say your slate." (Why? Do most actors slate themselves off-camera?)
But what do I know? Perhaps I just haven't walked in their shoes enough to see the endless parade of actors who can't face forward, find their light, or know where the camera is. Perhaps most of the actors they call in don't know what a "slate" is and respond with an entirely appropriate, "Huh?" (A slate is simply looking into the camera and saying your name — don't say no one ever told you.) All I can say is, it's odd that other casting directors don't act this way.
Still, knowing that it just seems to be part of their nature is comforting somehow. I guess it's easier knowing ahead of time that, no matter how many times they see me, they're always going to find it refreshingly novel when I smear peanut butter on their chocolate.
Anyway, a common mistake many actors make when taking a bite/sip/lick of a food product during an audition is to act surprised. Unless it's written into the copy that the character is outright skeptical about the taste of this thing in front of them (the only example I can think of being those old Reese's commercials, "Hey! You got peanut butter on my chocolate!"), acting surprised that it tastes good is basically tantamount to saying the product looks like sh**, or the Brand Name doesn't inspire confidence, or that this product stands out because it DOESN'T kill you. In other words, if it's that good, what sort of vomit-inducing experience were you expecting and why? (So what you typically see instead during a good bite-and-smile is a look of pleasant expectation before the bite, then a reaction afterwards that says the expectation was happily confirmed or, perhaps, even exceeded because they'd forgotten just how gosh-darned good this stuff really is.)
How this all relates is that this week was, as predicted by a realtor friend of mine, much busier than last week (they predicted that the upcoming Easter holiday would combine with Tax Day to dramatically slow down a lot of different industries), so I actually had quite a few auditions, both on-camera and voiceover. And one of those on-camera auditions was for a casting firm that rarely calls me in and, as I think I've written before, when they DO call me in they always act surprised when I don't fall on my face. Well, that's exactly what happened once again. I came in, the casting director was very business-like and doing annoying things (more on that later), then I did my bit, and afterwards the first words out of their mouth were, "Evan, that was GOOD!"
Gee, don't act so suprised.
Y'know what was different this time though? I think I figured out that it's just the way they are. For whatever reason, they're either cursed with a condescending way of expressing themselves to other people or, more likely, they really DON'T expect a lot from actors. I think it's more of the latter, simply because of those other annoying things they do. For instance, they'll call an actor into the room, then say, "Wait until the camera's rolling before beginning." (Isn't that a bit obvious?) Or, "Stand on the mark to say your slate." (Why? Do most actors slate themselves off-camera?)
But what do I know? Perhaps I just haven't walked in their shoes enough to see the endless parade of actors who can't face forward, find their light, or know where the camera is. Perhaps most of the actors they call in don't know what a "slate" is and respond with an entirely appropriate, "Huh?" (A slate is simply looking into the camera and saying your name — don't say no one ever told you.) All I can say is, it's odd that other casting directors don't act this way.
Still, knowing that it just seems to be part of their nature is comforting somehow. I guess it's easier knowing ahead of time that, no matter how many times they see me, they're always going to find it refreshingly novel when I smear peanut butter on their chocolate.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Happy Easter
It was a slow week for daytime auditions (i.e., on-camera & voiceover), which was actually appreciated since I didn't (and still don't) have my taxes done. The whole week — heck, the last few months — seem to have been about my not being able to get done what needs to get done because something more urgent or infuriatingly distracting inserts itself into my life. Trying to breathe through it, but dang...
Cherokee told me the other day that she really doesn't feel like pursuing acting work anymore. She's said it many times before, but there've been extenuating circumstances that made me think she mght change her mind later. I'm pretty certain now that's not going to happen. Curiously, it really doesn't upset me too much — we both knew when we met that there's a fantastically high attrition rate in the acting biz, and one or both of us might eventually succumb to it. Still, I'd also think something was wrong if I just shrugged and didn't give her leaving the biz a second thought. She's an incredibly talented actor, and it shouldn't pass unmourned that she won't be sharing that talent anymore. At least, not in the traditional ways (i.e., stage, camera, microphone).
Rented the "Chronicles of Narnia" last night. Brought back warm memories of reading those books during my childhood, and I honestly think they did a good job dramatizing it. C.S. Lewis had a British sensibility about analogues (i.e., subtlety goes a long way, less is more), and previous attempts at dramatizing "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" have killed me with how ham-fisted they've been. Hope Disney more of the Narnia series.
Cherokee told me the other day that she really doesn't feel like pursuing acting work anymore. She's said it many times before, but there've been extenuating circumstances that made me think she mght change her mind later. I'm pretty certain now that's not going to happen. Curiously, it really doesn't upset me too much — we both knew when we met that there's a fantastically high attrition rate in the acting biz, and one or both of us might eventually succumb to it. Still, I'd also think something was wrong if I just shrugged and didn't give her leaving the biz a second thought. She's an incredibly talented actor, and it shouldn't pass unmourned that she won't be sharing that talent anymore. At least, not in the traditional ways (i.e., stage, camera, microphone).
Rented the "Chronicles of Narnia" last night. Brought back warm memories of reading those books during my childhood, and I honestly think they did a good job dramatizing it. C.S. Lewis had a British sensibility about analogues (i.e., subtlety goes a long way, less is more), and previous attempts at dramatizing "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" have killed me with how ham-fisted they've been. Hope Disney more of the Narnia series.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Spring Is Here...
...and it really FEELS like a transitional time, y'know? Had a nice chunk of voiceover jobs last week Tuesday, then the crickets chirped until today, when a got one on-camera audition and three v.o. auditions. Fortunately, the rest of my life stabilized just a little during this time, and hopefully it's a trend that will continue.
The thought occurred to me yesterday that I need to start prepping for Equity generals soon, but I just as suddenly realized how very, very tired I am these days. Gotta get a handle on that...
The thought occurred to me yesterday that I need to start prepping for Equity generals soon, but I just as suddenly realized how very, very tired I am these days. Gotta get a handle on that...
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Koyaanisqatsi
I think I've figured out why I've been such a grumpy old cuss the past six months or so. It's a simple case of my life being out of balance. Between juggling my entrepreneurial pursuits, buying a new house, selling the old house, a dearth of paying acting jobs, etc., my life is just plain out of whack.
I'm not saying my problems are worse than anybody else's, it's just that I've generally supported the insanity of an acting career (which I very definitely want) by having an exceptionally stable Rest of My Life. And generally it's been somewhat self-correcting — unlike acting, I tend not to engage in activities that don't have a fairly certain payoff or benefit and, except for my marriage or family relationships of course, I drop those things from my life that start to go sour.
Except, recently, I haven't beeen able to do that. Houses, for instance, don't just sell themselves according to how badly you need the money, and credit card companies don't take "I'm a Bohemian living a life less ordinary," as an excuse for getting your credit card payment in late. Cue the pathos, cue the self-serving righteousness, cue the crabbiness. And, since a diary gets double-barrels of whatever emotional extreme I'm serving, my posts seem lately to have been more yang than yin.
Had a night shoot last week. Nice to be among the normally abnormal again. Also have a few jobs in the booth lined up for next week. I'll try to break with recent tradition by just embracing those for the good they represent, rather than trying to qualify them by stating any perceived downside (e.g., "Hey, I've just been elected President! On the other hand, half the world wants to kill me...")
Maybe I just need a slap upside the head...
I'm not saying my problems are worse than anybody else's, it's just that I've generally supported the insanity of an acting career (which I very definitely want) by having an exceptionally stable Rest of My Life. And generally it's been somewhat self-correcting — unlike acting, I tend not to engage in activities that don't have a fairly certain payoff or benefit and, except for my marriage or family relationships of course, I drop those things from my life that start to go sour.
Except, recently, I haven't beeen able to do that. Houses, for instance, don't just sell themselves according to how badly you need the money, and credit card companies don't take "I'm a Bohemian living a life less ordinary," as an excuse for getting your credit card payment in late. Cue the pathos, cue the self-serving righteousness, cue the crabbiness. And, since a diary gets double-barrels of whatever emotional extreme I'm serving, my posts seem lately to have been more yang than yin.
Had a night shoot last week. Nice to be among the normally abnormal again. Also have a few jobs in the booth lined up for next week. I'll try to break with recent tradition by just embracing those for the good they represent, rather than trying to qualify them by stating any perceived downside (e.g., "Hey, I've just been elected President! On the other hand, half the world wants to kill me...")
Maybe I just need a slap upside the head...
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
A Note to Agents
Here are some casting specs that were communicated to me by my agent this week (I'm paraphrasing for the sake of anonymity, but only slightly):
"Arrogant but clueless chef who thinks he's better than he is. Male, 30-50 years old, open on race. Good facial expressions, but not over the top. This is a real person, able to show emotions with the raise of an eyebrow, but stay away from extreme subtlety. The chef is a real person, but a heightened real person. National broadcast usage, plus cable, Internet, some print, and possible foreign broadcast. This character will become a spokesperson for a MAJOR worldwide brand, and the client is looking for strong actors who can convey the character consistently, and have that certain something extra that will make them the quintessential icon for the brand!"
Okay, so you know what the only usable part of that paragraph is? The first sentence, and practically nothing else. The ONLY thing I really need to know that will help me do a great job in the audition is that I'm an arrogant but clueless chef. The rest of it is either unhelpful (possibly even a hindrance), or else it's information no doubt intended to help you (the agent) do your job.
Gender and age range are tips to guide your submissions, and have little-to-no bearing on my prep work for the audition. The bit about "not too subtle, not too campy" is, at best, an indication to you that you should submit your strongest and most versatile talent. At worst, it's pretty darn confusing, and it's taken me literally years to realize that such pronouncements either indicate that the client doesn't know what they want, or that they're really bad at communicating what they want. The most useful sum-up I can make of this particular bit is "the client will know it when they see it" and "be prepared to do it different ways in the audition" (something most casting directors will encourage you to do anyway).
The rest of it, about what an icon this character is going to be (and how lucrative the gig will potentially be) is a downright hindrance for me. I mean, it's obviously going to be a great gig if I land it, but unless you have many personal experiences watching me rise above all others in the face of extreme pressure (not that auditions, opening nights, improv and other live performances aren't already extreme enough), why saddle me with that pressure for the audition? You want me to be relaxed. You want me to have fun. You want me to be playful. (Seriously, you do.) None of which come easier to me when I know that I'm going to miss out on fame and fortune if I screw up. Okay, I know there are exceptions — your favorite semi-retired client in Wisconsin who will only make the trip down to Chicago for "important" auditions, or the suburban parent who's on the fence between finding a babysitter or turning down the audition — but those are exceptions.
And, on an idealistic note, despite the fact that I recently bitched about low-usage commercials not being worth the effort, in point of fact I personally do actually feel that every role deserves the same investment of energy and dedication (which, I guess, means that you probably shouldn't tell me when a spot is going to get low usage either).
Oh, and by the way — just so you know, it's not like I keep my Extra Special Quintessential Something on reserve for some occasions and not for others. If I have it, trust me to bring it to every audition.
Really, I appreciate the openness with which you share information with your clients, and I can certainly edit out anything that I don't think is helpful, but I just thought I should tell you in case you'd never heard it before, and because it's taken me so long myself to realize what helps and what doesn't (which I don't really wish on anyone else in your stable).
"Arrogant but clueless chef who thinks he's better than he is. Male, 30-50 years old, open on race. Good facial expressions, but not over the top. This is a real person, able to show emotions with the raise of an eyebrow, but stay away from extreme subtlety. The chef is a real person, but a heightened real person. National broadcast usage, plus cable, Internet, some print, and possible foreign broadcast. This character will become a spokesperson for a MAJOR worldwide brand, and the client is looking for strong actors who can convey the character consistently, and have that certain something extra that will make them the quintessential icon for the brand!"
Okay, so you know what the only usable part of that paragraph is? The first sentence, and practically nothing else. The ONLY thing I really need to know that will help me do a great job in the audition is that I'm an arrogant but clueless chef. The rest of it is either unhelpful (possibly even a hindrance), or else it's information no doubt intended to help you (the agent) do your job.
Gender and age range are tips to guide your submissions, and have little-to-no bearing on my prep work for the audition. The bit about "not too subtle, not too campy" is, at best, an indication to you that you should submit your strongest and most versatile talent. At worst, it's pretty darn confusing, and it's taken me literally years to realize that such pronouncements either indicate that the client doesn't know what they want, or that they're really bad at communicating what they want. The most useful sum-up I can make of this particular bit is "the client will know it when they see it" and "be prepared to do it different ways in the audition" (something most casting directors will encourage you to do anyway).
The rest of it, about what an icon this character is going to be (and how lucrative the gig will potentially be) is a downright hindrance for me. I mean, it's obviously going to be a great gig if I land it, but unless you have many personal experiences watching me rise above all others in the face of extreme pressure (not that auditions, opening nights, improv and other live performances aren't already extreme enough), why saddle me with that pressure for the audition? You want me to be relaxed. You want me to have fun. You want me to be playful. (Seriously, you do.) None of which come easier to me when I know that I'm going to miss out on fame and fortune if I screw up. Okay, I know there are exceptions — your favorite semi-retired client in Wisconsin who will only make the trip down to Chicago for "important" auditions, or the suburban parent who's on the fence between finding a babysitter or turning down the audition — but those are exceptions.
And, on an idealistic note, despite the fact that I recently bitched about low-usage commercials not being worth the effort, in point of fact I personally do actually feel that every role deserves the same investment of energy and dedication (which, I guess, means that you probably shouldn't tell me when a spot is going to get low usage either).
Oh, and by the way — just so you know, it's not like I keep my Extra Special Quintessential Something on reserve for some occasions and not for others. If I have it, trust me to bring it to every audition.
Really, I appreciate the openness with which you share information with your clients, and I can certainly edit out anything that I don't think is helpful, but I just thought I should tell you in case you'd never heard it before, and because it's taken me so long myself to realize what helps and what doesn't (which I don't really wish on anyone else in your stable).
Friday, March 03, 2006
New (Same) Tricks
Not a bad week, all things considered. The pressure is easing in some areas but ramping up in others. Just trying to hold it all together for the sake of those around me.
Got to audition WITH Cherokee for a spot the other day for the first time in, like, years, so that was a treat. Also had a job on Wednesday which was good. It was "just a demo" for a national brand, but any union work is good work. It was also my first time working with another talent from my agency with whom I don't agree on nearly anything (though I don't think they know it, despite our having known each other for over a decade). Aside from a somewhat abrasive personality when they're not around those they care to impress (including other actors), they're positively effusive in their glad-handing when they're around anyone they think can help them in their careers. There are a few notable others in Chicago who really stand out in that way, and I'd get irritated at them if I wasn't also somewhat shamefully amused. They're their own worst enemy and can't see it. Their superficial charm must be transparent to nearly everyone, their eagerness to please reads as desperation (a career-killer that), and their idea of self-promotion (to advertising professionals mind you) begins and ends with harrassing their targets with an array of useless name-imprinted tchotchkes.
But, I guess they think it works for them. Anyway...
I had an on-camera audition Tuesday that was this week's educational experience. I'd call it "teaching an old dog new tricks," but the fact is it was an old trick I'd simply stopped practicing. The audition was for a state lottery and, for those who don't know, lottery commercials are generally slim pickings — they generally only air in one state, and usually only for one cycle, but they require just as much energy (if not more) than national spots because they're often about super-excited people who've just won a buttload of cash.
So anyway, my agent calls me up, gives me the casting specs, and I sort of groaned inwardly because they wanted a very specific talent. I'm not going to say what that talent was, but imagine, for instance, that the specs called for someone who can do sign language. Now, I actually took a class in American Sign Language years ago (true) but usually when casting directors are looking for a particular talent, they're looking for an expert — someone who's actually deaf or has been doing ASL all their life. And, most often, they can find such a person (which is also why, unlike theatre, it's usually useless to pursue on-camera jobs calling for a 40-year-old if one is actually 25 — there are plenty of 40-year-olds in the available casting pool, and you'd better be stunningly better than all of them in some way in order to change the client's mind about who he thinks he needs).
The reason I groaned, though, was because the person casting the spot was one of those who almost never calls me in. Now, although I think the benefits of being exclusive with one agent in Chicago outweigh the bad points (I started my career in L.A., so it's what I'm most comfortable with) here's one of the bad points: If, for some reason, you make a bad first impression with a casting director (as I apparently did many moons ago when I was still wet behind the ears), and assuming that particular CD is not one of the more generous ones in the city who actually call an actor for auditions ten or more times before giving up on them, what's going to happen is the next time this casting director calls you in, it will generally only be because your agent recommended you, or you have a specific talent that disqualifies most of their regular pool (or both). Now, because you are exclusive with your agent, you're among the first people s/he calls when the CD gives them an "empty" slot to fill (the CD basically says "Send me these 15 particular actors [they name them], but because we need actors with such a specific talent, it's going to be a light day, so add to your list one or two others you think would be good").
OK, so now you're going in to see a casting director who's not thrilled about you, your audition is at the end of the session (making it much more likely that you won't be seen by the client), and, as often happens, you also have to follow a bunch of presumed experts at exhibiting a particular specialized skill. This is not a recipe for success. In fact, my experience has been that the casting director often simply feels that their first impressions of you were correct — you're underwhelming. Yet again. What a surprise.
But what else are you going to do? Sure, you can tell your agent you refuse to see the casting director unless it's under circumstances that are more favorable to you. That's certainly valid, and I'm all for empowering actors to do that if they think they have the equity to spend with their agent. It is, however, a "special order". That is, you're setting yourself up to be a custom job when it comes to casting, and the agent must now remember somehow "Evan will see Casting Director X all the time, but he'll only see Casting Director Y if he's in the first ten slots and only if there's no sign language involved." That's too much work (again, speaking only for myself). Following the path of least resistance, I only turn down an audition if I have a product or scheduling conflict, or if the specs are grossly out of my league. In ten years, I think I've only turned down maybe one audition for that last reason, and I'm really only allowing for the possibility — I don't actually remember doing so. Ever.
So there I am. Unenthused about the waste of time this audition is costing me, but hey — I chose to do it, so shut up already, right? Well, lo and behold, it turns out that I actually pulled off the "special skill" at least passably well, and (gasp) the casting director let me know that the experts s/he had called in were generally unable to handle the copy well. And, in this particular case, the copy turned out to be more important to the client than the special skill. So, in the end, I was actually a viable choice for the client, and the casting director got to see me Not Fail. Which, of course, is actually what I hope for every time I go into one of these situations. When you're stuck at the bottom of a well, you don't focus so much on the light at the top as on clawing yourself up to the next level.
But, as I thought about this afterward, I realized that I knew this already. These sorts of auditions are not that much unlike what every audition used to be for me when I was starting out as a total unknown (not that I'm now a renowned talent or anything — it's just that I've actually managed to fool a few casting directors into not calling me in last for a change). So yeah, I guess I've gotten soft. I guess it's time to remember the old tricks and practice them as much as possible.
Got to audition WITH Cherokee for a spot the other day for the first time in, like, years, so that was a treat. Also had a job on Wednesday which was good. It was "just a demo" for a national brand, but any union work is good work. It was also my first time working with another talent from my agency with whom I don't agree on nearly anything (though I don't think they know it, despite our having known each other for over a decade). Aside from a somewhat abrasive personality when they're not around those they care to impress (including other actors), they're positively effusive in their glad-handing when they're around anyone they think can help them in their careers. There are a few notable others in Chicago who really stand out in that way, and I'd get irritated at them if I wasn't also somewhat shamefully amused. They're their own worst enemy and can't see it. Their superficial charm must be transparent to nearly everyone, their eagerness to please reads as desperation (a career-killer that), and their idea of self-promotion (to advertising professionals mind you) begins and ends with harrassing their targets with an array of useless name-imprinted tchotchkes.
But, I guess they think it works for them. Anyway...
I had an on-camera audition Tuesday that was this week's educational experience. I'd call it "teaching an old dog new tricks," but the fact is it was an old trick I'd simply stopped practicing. The audition was for a state lottery and, for those who don't know, lottery commercials are generally slim pickings — they generally only air in one state, and usually only for one cycle, but they require just as much energy (if not more) than national spots because they're often about super-excited people who've just won a buttload of cash.
So anyway, my agent calls me up, gives me the casting specs, and I sort of groaned inwardly because they wanted a very specific talent. I'm not going to say what that talent was, but imagine, for instance, that the specs called for someone who can do sign language. Now, I actually took a class in American Sign Language years ago (true) but usually when casting directors are looking for a particular talent, they're looking for an expert — someone who's actually deaf or has been doing ASL all their life. And, most often, they can find such a person (which is also why, unlike theatre, it's usually useless to pursue on-camera jobs calling for a 40-year-old if one is actually 25 — there are plenty of 40-year-olds in the available casting pool, and you'd better be stunningly better than all of them in some way in order to change the client's mind about who he thinks he needs).
The reason I groaned, though, was because the person casting the spot was one of those who almost never calls me in. Now, although I think the benefits of being exclusive with one agent in Chicago outweigh the bad points (I started my career in L.A., so it's what I'm most comfortable with) here's one of the bad points: If, for some reason, you make a bad first impression with a casting director (as I apparently did many moons ago when I was still wet behind the ears), and assuming that particular CD is not one of the more generous ones in the city who actually call an actor for auditions ten or more times before giving up on them, what's going to happen is the next time this casting director calls you in, it will generally only be because your agent recommended you, or you have a specific talent that disqualifies most of their regular pool (or both). Now, because you are exclusive with your agent, you're among the first people s/he calls when the CD gives them an "empty" slot to fill (the CD basically says "Send me these 15 particular actors [they name them], but because we need actors with such a specific talent, it's going to be a light day, so add to your list one or two others you think would be good").
OK, so now you're going in to see a casting director who's not thrilled about you, your audition is at the end of the session (making it much more likely that you won't be seen by the client), and, as often happens, you also have to follow a bunch of presumed experts at exhibiting a particular specialized skill. This is not a recipe for success. In fact, my experience has been that the casting director often simply feels that their first impressions of you were correct — you're underwhelming. Yet again. What a surprise.
But what else are you going to do? Sure, you can tell your agent you refuse to see the casting director unless it's under circumstances that are more favorable to you. That's certainly valid, and I'm all for empowering actors to do that if they think they have the equity to spend with their agent. It is, however, a "special order". That is, you're setting yourself up to be a custom job when it comes to casting, and the agent must now remember somehow "Evan will see Casting Director X all the time, but he'll only see Casting Director Y if he's in the first ten slots and only if there's no sign language involved." That's too much work (again, speaking only for myself). Following the path of least resistance, I only turn down an audition if I have a product or scheduling conflict, or if the specs are grossly out of my league. In ten years, I think I've only turned down maybe one audition for that last reason, and I'm really only allowing for the possibility — I don't actually remember doing so. Ever.
So there I am. Unenthused about the waste of time this audition is costing me, but hey — I chose to do it, so shut up already, right? Well, lo and behold, it turns out that I actually pulled off the "special skill" at least passably well, and (gasp) the casting director let me know that the experts s/he had called in were generally unable to handle the copy well. And, in this particular case, the copy turned out to be more important to the client than the special skill. So, in the end, I was actually a viable choice for the client, and the casting director got to see me Not Fail. Which, of course, is actually what I hope for every time I go into one of these situations. When you're stuck at the bottom of a well, you don't focus so much on the light at the top as on clawing yourself up to the next level.
But, as I thought about this afterward, I realized that I knew this already. These sorts of auditions are not that much unlike what every audition used to be for me when I was starting out as a total unknown (not that I'm now a renowned talent or anything — it's just that I've actually managed to fool a few casting directors into not calling me in last for a change). So yeah, I guess I've gotten soft. I guess it's time to remember the old tricks and practice them as much as possible.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Venting My Spleen
Okay, I said I didn't want to get into this, but maybe if I just get it off my chest it will go away and I won't have to deal with feelings of avoidance.
Went to a SAG meeting Monday to meet the new union president, Alan Rosenberg, and Secretary/Treasurer, Connie Stevens. Afterwards, one friend called them "wrong-headed but not insane," and I think that about sums it up. Our union is filled with some of the most ridiculous ego-centric grandstanders, megalomaniacs, wheel re-inventors, and just plain head cases, and I respect that Alan and Connie have to create some order out of all this chaos. I also believe they're earnest and well-intentioned. What I didn't get, though, was a sense that we, in the Branches, know what we're talking about on certain issues, particularly Merger and the Commercials Contract.
I think there's a prevalent sense among members of the "Membership First" faction that the Branches are 1). pro-employer, 2). easily duped by all the previous administrations that have called for a merger between AFTRA and SAG, and 3). anti-Hollywood. In reality, I think most Branch members are none of that.
The idea that we are "pro-employer" seems to come from the fact that we voice serious concerns about going on strike over the Commercials contract in the near future, but that's mostly because we arguably bore a disproportional amount of the pain in 2000 — the Commercials contract accounts for more income in the branches than it does in Hollywood and, because we have fewer members than Hollywood, we had more work cut out for us in prosecuting the last strike. So we acknowledge the inherently adversarial position we're in versus our employers, but at the same time we're STRONGLY in favor of working out an equitable deal, because — at least at this point in time — getting even half of what you want is preferable to risking it all by going to war.
Regarding Merger: Again — the Branches have a disproportional amount of members who are necessarily members of both AFTRA and SAG, and many of us, including Yours Truly, have lost Pension and/or Health benefits because our income was split between two jurisdictions. (You have to make a certain amount each year to qualify for benefits under each union's plan, but if the qualifying level is, say, $15K, a $29K wage-earner is outta luck in both unions if his/her income was evenly split.) What Membership First does not seem to understand (or, at least, has never said that I remember) is that we in the branches are voting our pocketbooks. All the Pro & Con rhetoric is very entertaining, thank you, but in the end, we've done the math and decided that the best thing is to have just one benefits plan. And since we, by law, cannot exert a majority influence over both Benefit Plans (both are controlled 50% by our employers, who quite definitely do not want the two unions to merge), we've decided to exert control where we can — by merging the two unions anyway. Matter of fact, the adversarial stance that M.F. seems to chronically take with regard to our employers is strangely absent on this one issue, and it's an inconsistancy that breeds distrust in the Branches — it seems to indicate an agenda that is based more on intra-union factional power than on strengthening the power of the workers versus their employers.
And lastly, we're not anti-Hollywood — except when Hollywood adopts an anti-Branches stance. Seriously, although it was mentioned numerous times by Mr. Rosenberg during the meeting that we in the Branches "have no interest in DVD residuals" (a matter that is important to those working the Theatrical contract, i.e., mostly Hollywood Branch members), the fact is that most of us (I reckon) would defer to Hollywood if a majority of those members thought a strike over the issue was necessary. Conversely though, we think a certain amount of deference on Hollywood's part would be nice when it comes to the Commercials contract (which, again, disproportionately affects the membership in the [non-Hollywood] Branches).
It's also worth noting that, following the Strike of 2000, the very next issue put to the membership concerned re-apportioning the governance of the union so that it was proportional to the number of members in each Branch (which, of course, would give the Hollywood branch alone a 50%+ majority control in the boardroom). At the time, it was called "undemocratic" that no single branch had majority control, but — if the non-Hollywood branches voted together — they could override Hollywood. However, there's a reason our Founding Fathers created the U.S. Senate. It was so that those states with a disproportional amount of resources and/or wealth (say, for instance, New England) would not feel that those in the more populous states were always making all the decisions (e.g., Rhode Island doesn't stand a chance in the House of Representatives against California). And the reason that's a good thing in a union is that you may, someday, have to strike. And if the rest of the nation feels that Hollywood is making all the decisions — even when they run counter to what the rest of the nation tells Hollywood it wants — you're going to have serious problems the next time you want to have a nationwide strike.
I'm not saying that the new governance situation is "wrong," per se, but the timing of it, as well as the rhetoric that was bandied about at the time, was a serious slap in the face to the branches who had just prosecuted a nationwide strike that many felt had been instigated primarily by members in Hollywood. (I don't happen to hold that opinion — I still think it was necessary at that point in time — but the vehemence with which some very vocal Hollywood members went about pursuing the change in governance afterward only heightened the suspicion on the part of many in the Branches that they had been duped in 2000.)
There, I hope that does it. Seriously, I don't want this blog to degenerate into one of those partisan sites that seem to discuss only union issues, but to entirely ignore my feelings on these issues seemed wrong as well. Spleen vented, damage done. On to the next thing...
Went to a SAG meeting Monday to meet the new union president, Alan Rosenberg, and Secretary/Treasurer, Connie Stevens. Afterwards, one friend called them "wrong-headed but not insane," and I think that about sums it up. Our union is filled with some of the most ridiculous ego-centric grandstanders, megalomaniacs, wheel re-inventors, and just plain head cases, and I respect that Alan and Connie have to create some order out of all this chaos. I also believe they're earnest and well-intentioned. What I didn't get, though, was a sense that we, in the Branches, know what we're talking about on certain issues, particularly Merger and the Commercials Contract.
I think there's a prevalent sense among members of the "Membership First" faction that the Branches are 1). pro-employer, 2). easily duped by all the previous administrations that have called for a merger between AFTRA and SAG, and 3). anti-Hollywood. In reality, I think most Branch members are none of that.
The idea that we are "pro-employer" seems to come from the fact that we voice serious concerns about going on strike over the Commercials contract in the near future, but that's mostly because we arguably bore a disproportional amount of the pain in 2000 — the Commercials contract accounts for more income in the branches than it does in Hollywood and, because we have fewer members than Hollywood, we had more work cut out for us in prosecuting the last strike. So we acknowledge the inherently adversarial position we're in versus our employers, but at the same time we're STRONGLY in favor of working out an equitable deal, because — at least at this point in time — getting even half of what you want is preferable to risking it all by going to war.
Regarding Merger: Again — the Branches have a disproportional amount of members who are necessarily members of both AFTRA and SAG, and many of us, including Yours Truly, have lost Pension and/or Health benefits because our income was split between two jurisdictions. (You have to make a certain amount each year to qualify for benefits under each union's plan, but if the qualifying level is, say, $15K, a $29K wage-earner is outta luck in both unions if his/her income was evenly split.) What Membership First does not seem to understand (or, at least, has never said that I remember) is that we in the branches are voting our pocketbooks. All the Pro & Con rhetoric is very entertaining, thank you, but in the end, we've done the math and decided that the best thing is to have just one benefits plan. And since we, by law, cannot exert a majority influence over both Benefit Plans (both are controlled 50% by our employers, who quite definitely do not want the two unions to merge), we've decided to exert control where we can — by merging the two unions anyway. Matter of fact, the adversarial stance that M.F. seems to chronically take with regard to our employers is strangely absent on this one issue, and it's an inconsistancy that breeds distrust in the Branches — it seems to indicate an agenda that is based more on intra-union factional power than on strengthening the power of the workers versus their employers.
And lastly, we're not anti-Hollywood — except when Hollywood adopts an anti-Branches stance. Seriously, although it was mentioned numerous times by Mr. Rosenberg during the meeting that we in the Branches "have no interest in DVD residuals" (a matter that is important to those working the Theatrical contract, i.e., mostly Hollywood Branch members), the fact is that most of us (I reckon) would defer to Hollywood if a majority of those members thought a strike over the issue was necessary. Conversely though, we think a certain amount of deference on Hollywood's part would be nice when it comes to the Commercials contract (which, again, disproportionately affects the membership in the [non-Hollywood] Branches).
It's also worth noting that, following the Strike of 2000, the very next issue put to the membership concerned re-apportioning the governance of the union so that it was proportional to the number of members in each Branch (which, of course, would give the Hollywood branch alone a 50%+ majority control in the boardroom). At the time, it was called "undemocratic" that no single branch had majority control, but — if the non-Hollywood branches voted together — they could override Hollywood. However, there's a reason our Founding Fathers created the U.S. Senate. It was so that those states with a disproportional amount of resources and/or wealth (say, for instance, New England) would not feel that those in the more populous states were always making all the decisions (e.g., Rhode Island doesn't stand a chance in the House of Representatives against California). And the reason that's a good thing in a union is that you may, someday, have to strike. And if the rest of the nation feels that Hollywood is making all the decisions — even when they run counter to what the rest of the nation tells Hollywood it wants — you're going to have serious problems the next time you want to have a nationwide strike.
I'm not saying that the new governance situation is "wrong," per se, but the timing of it, as well as the rhetoric that was bandied about at the time, was a serious slap in the face to the branches who had just prosecuted a nationwide strike that many felt had been instigated primarily by members in Hollywood. (I don't happen to hold that opinion — I still think it was necessary at that point in time — but the vehemence with which some very vocal Hollywood members went about pursuing the change in governance afterward only heightened the suspicion on the part of many in the Branches that they had been duped in 2000.)
There, I hope that does it. Seriously, I don't want this blog to degenerate into one of those partisan sites that seem to discuss only union issues, but to entirely ignore my feelings on these issues seemed wrong as well. Spleen vented, damage done. On to the next thing...
Better... kind of.
Thanks to Story and Madie for their comments on my last post. Things are a little better, but I suspect it's largely because I'm choosing to ignore the pain. Caught a killer cold last weekend, and I'm only now getting down to the "egg yolk stage" (as a friend of mine delicately puts it). And, a couple of days ago, I walked in the front door of our new house to the sound of water cascading down the kitchen walls and into the basement, where it was about 6 inches deep at the point where it was splattering off the circuit breaker box. The good news is that half of it seeped through the kitchen walls to the outside, where it pooled around the 116-year-old foundation, no doubt cracking the mortar, stones, etc.
And, you know, past a certain point, you just have to laugh.
Things have gotten so wildly, outrageously beyond my control that I've ironically grown very calm. I'm just dealing with whatever's in front of me at the moment, and handling anything beyond that if time allows.
No on-camera auditions this week, but at least one voiceover audition per day. Given my cold, I guess I should be grateful there was only potential money on the line instead of real money.
And, you know, past a certain point, you just have to laugh.
Things have gotten so wildly, outrageously beyond my control that I've ironically grown very calm. I'm just dealing with whatever's in front of me at the moment, and handling anything beyond that if time allows.
No on-camera auditions this week, but at least one voiceover audition per day. Given my cold, I guess I should be grateful there was only potential money on the line instead of real money.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Breathing
Well, Cherokee finally got me to take a vacation for two weeks. I think I did pretty well at leaving most of my cares behind while we were gone, but the backlog of stuff when I returned has kept me so busy I honestly feel like I can't breathe at times. I already had a backlog of stuff to do before I left, and now I've got another two weeks' worth piled on top. Issues with the new house, issues with selling our old house, carrying two mortgages in the meantime, organizing and paying taxes on our business and our personal income, running our business in the meantime, etc. All this and auditions/jobs to boot. It's not stuff that I'll be glad I did when I'm on my deathbed (compared to, say, having had a close and loving mariage and family), but it's stuff that'll put you on your deathbed quickly if you don't do it. Even writing about it seems like a waste of time, and if I wasn't waiting for a file to upload to our server at the moment, I wouldn't even be writing this.
Had a job yesterday, thank heavens, and a surprise job today that I just found out about. Both are/were re-records of previous sessions for spots that didn't air because the client decided to change the script after it was in the can. No complaints, as it's badly needed money in my bank account.
Also had two on-camera auditions early this week. In both cases, the last take I did was good (both in my opinion and, I think, in the casting director's opinion) but that's actually disappointing to me because — unless you're one of the first ones on the audition tape/DVD — chances are pretty slim that the client is going to see the final take, since they quickly start to view only the first 15 seconds or so of each audition before speeding on to the next. Guess I'm a bit rusty from the slow flow of on-camera auditions lately.
Speaking of non-sequiturs, check out the SAGFireBird blog for a discussion of issues currently affecting (and afflicting) the Screen Actors Guild. Again, I don't want to get too deeply into them here, but it relates strongly to something I mentioned in one of my last couple of posts.
Had a job yesterday, thank heavens, and a surprise job today that I just found out about. Both are/were re-records of previous sessions for spots that didn't air because the client decided to change the script after it was in the can. No complaints, as it's badly needed money in my bank account.
Also had two on-camera auditions early this week. In both cases, the last take I did was good (both in my opinion and, I think, in the casting director's opinion) but that's actually disappointing to me because — unless you're one of the first ones on the audition tape/DVD — chances are pretty slim that the client is going to see the final take, since they quickly start to view only the first 15 seconds or so of each audition before speeding on to the next. Guess I'm a bit rusty from the slow flow of on-camera auditions lately.
Speaking of non-sequiturs, check out the SAGFireBird blog for a discussion of issues currently affecting (and afflicting) the Screen Actors Guild. Again, I don't want to get too deeply into them here, but it relates strongly to something I mentioned in one of my last couple of posts.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
New Year, Fresh Start
Well, it's a new year and so far so good. Cherokee & I have a new house, I've had a couple voiceover gigs already, StoryActor is back in fine fettle it appears, and perhaps we'll see more opportunities this year for employment.
I've been reading a book lately called "What's the Matter With Kansas?" and it's really been occupying my thoughts a lot lately. It's about the NeoCon revolution within the Republican party, and it's written by a Kansas native who sees in his home state a microcosm for what's been happening (and even what will happen) nationally. I don't really want to get into politics too much here, but I do see some parallels between what's been happening politically in our nation and what's been happening within the Screen Actors Guild. In both instances there is a very vocal minority that manages to effectively exert its will, often (it might be argued) to their own detriment and to the detriment of the body at large.
And so you get, for instance, Kansans who are losing their union jobs to union-busting efforts, free trade agreements, and shady corporate maneuvers, but they'll vote FOR a candidate who is anti-union, supports free trade agreements, etc. because that candidate takes a particular stance on a "moral issue" they agree with (e.g., Roe v. Wade). Similarly, in SAG you see some really angry, angry people who will fight tooth and nail to prevent consolidation with AFTRA, a renewal of the Agency Franchise Agreement, or any collective bargaining agreement that is not a total 100% victory for the Guild, and they (all of them, as near as I can tell) consider their efforts at undermining the majority as something of a moral obligation.
I'm not sure what, if anything, to say about this observation, but it's disturbing to me and it's been on my mind, so I thought I ought to write it down somewhere. Here, for instance.
I've been reading a book lately called "What's the Matter With Kansas?" and it's really been occupying my thoughts a lot lately. It's about the NeoCon revolution within the Republican party, and it's written by a Kansas native who sees in his home state a microcosm for what's been happening (and even what will happen) nationally. I don't really want to get into politics too much here, but I do see some parallels between what's been happening politically in our nation and what's been happening within the Screen Actors Guild. In both instances there is a very vocal minority that manages to effectively exert its will, often (it might be argued) to their own detriment and to the detriment of the body at large.
And so you get, for instance, Kansans who are losing their union jobs to union-busting efforts, free trade agreements, and shady corporate maneuvers, but they'll vote FOR a candidate who is anti-union, supports free trade agreements, etc. because that candidate takes a particular stance on a "moral issue" they agree with (e.g., Roe v. Wade). Similarly, in SAG you see some really angry, angry people who will fight tooth and nail to prevent consolidation with AFTRA, a renewal of the Agency Franchise Agreement, or any collective bargaining agreement that is not a total 100% victory for the Guild, and they (all of them, as near as I can tell) consider their efforts at undermining the majority as something of a moral obligation.
I'm not sure what, if anything, to say about this observation, but it's disturbing to me and it's been on my mind, so I thought I ought to write it down somewhere. Here, for instance.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Better'n Nothing, I Guess
Can't believe I haven't updated this in three weeks. It's actually been a busy time on a number of levels. First, Cherokee & I are in the process of moving. Second, my money job (for the first time ever) is in retail and I've gotten to experience firsthand the Christmas Rush. Third, I've been getting on-camera work. Sort of.
The gigs I've been getting are all jobs as background extras on commercial shoots. Three of them in about two weeks. I am, of course, the first to say that Chicago actors need to do any work that comes along (in order to qualify for health benefits, if nothing else), and I've mentioned earlier in this blog that actors in this market need to disabuse themselves of any notion that they are only fit for principal roles, but these gigs were particularly eye-opening.
The fact is that I've been in the minority in holding the opinions I just repeated above — most Chicago actors HAVE been accustomed to turning down extras/background work. Well, not any longer. Over the last three jobs, I saw long-established actors with tri-coastal careers, Second City mainstage actors, one casting director, and assorted other improvisers, voiceover talent, etc. working with me in the background. I swear, there was more talent employed as "atmosphere" on these shoots than the folks in the foreground.
The reason, of course, is the decline of the broadcast dollar. Less broadcast advertising means fewer spots being shot, meaning less work to go around. I'm hoping this trend ends up like the "technology bubble" of the 90s and that, sooner or later, advertisers realize that all the hype about product placements and Internet advertising just doesn't grab the same attention as their old reliable broadcast spots, but I'm not holding my breath.
And on that note, I'll invite everyone to take a hot bath, shake off these 2005 blues, and look forward to the hope of better things in 2006. Happy Holidays everyone!
The gigs I've been getting are all jobs as background extras on commercial shoots. Three of them in about two weeks. I am, of course, the first to say that Chicago actors need to do any work that comes along (in order to qualify for health benefits, if nothing else), and I've mentioned earlier in this blog that actors in this market need to disabuse themselves of any notion that they are only fit for principal roles, but these gigs were particularly eye-opening.
The fact is that I've been in the minority in holding the opinions I just repeated above — most Chicago actors HAVE been accustomed to turning down extras/background work. Well, not any longer. Over the last three jobs, I saw long-established actors with tri-coastal careers, Second City mainstage actors, one casting director, and assorted other improvisers, voiceover talent, etc. working with me in the background. I swear, there was more talent employed as "atmosphere" on these shoots than the folks in the foreground.
The reason, of course, is the decline of the broadcast dollar. Less broadcast advertising means fewer spots being shot, meaning less work to go around. I'm hoping this trend ends up like the "technology bubble" of the 90s and that, sooner or later, advertisers realize that all the hype about product placements and Internet advertising just doesn't grab the same attention as their old reliable broadcast spots, but I'm not holding my breath.
And on that note, I'll invite everyone to take a hot bath, shake off these 2005 blues, and look forward to the hope of better things in 2006. Happy Holidays everyone!
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Not a PSA
First, thanks to MagicKat for her comment on my last post. She's a Real Actor living in the Big Apple and writes a good blog (see the link in the right-hand navibar). I say "real actor" with tongue firmly planted in cheek, because the stereotype many ad agencies almost willfully enforce is that you cast in L.A. for beautiful people, go to Chicago for comedy, and go to New York for "real actors." No disrespect to my NYC brothers and sisters, of course, least of all MagicKat; it's just that all three locales have more than enough professional talent to cast nearly any 30-second opus, so advertisers should think more locally.
So glad to have an on-camera audition yesterday that was up my alley, so to speak. My "alley" happens to be one where I feel I can stand out because the casting specs allow — if not call for — a certain amount of creative latitude on my part. Combine that with a casting director who actually lets you play a little (instead of fixating on the "director" part of their title because, you know, actors are stupid and won't give their client a good performance unless they're forced to) and you've got a rewarding experience. Seriously — actually landing a gig is gravy, but if I didn't actually enjoy a good portion of my auditions I'd have to question whether it was all worth it.
It's rare that things in the non-acting world eclipse my Dream (life as a professional actor being the dream I pursue), but I've got a lot of non-acting stress happening at the moment. My last living grandparent died last week at the age of 99, Cherokee and I are in the middle of trying to buy a house, and an entrepreneurial retail venture I run is giving me massive headaches (it being the holiday season). Actually, I normally wouldn't even consider that last bit to be a major stressor since I actually derive enjoyment from running it, but MagicKat's experience with holiday shoppers (again, see her link to the right) reminded me that, "Hey, yeah! Holiday shoppers ARE the dark side of humanity incarnate!"
Speaking of which, I've gotta go deal with them now. Heaven forbid they not get instant gratification...
So glad to have an on-camera audition yesterday that was up my alley, so to speak. My "alley" happens to be one where I feel I can stand out because the casting specs allow — if not call for — a certain amount of creative latitude on my part. Combine that with a casting director who actually lets you play a little (instead of fixating on the "director" part of their title because, you know, actors are stupid and won't give their client a good performance unless they're forced to) and you've got a rewarding experience. Seriously — actually landing a gig is gravy, but if I didn't actually enjoy a good portion of my auditions I'd have to question whether it was all worth it.
It's rare that things in the non-acting world eclipse my Dream (life as a professional actor being the dream I pursue), but I've got a lot of non-acting stress happening at the moment. My last living grandparent died last week at the age of 99, Cherokee and I are in the middle of trying to buy a house, and an entrepreneurial retail venture I run is giving me massive headaches (it being the holiday season). Actually, I normally wouldn't even consider that last bit to be a major stressor since I actually derive enjoyment from running it, but MagicKat's experience with holiday shoppers (again, see her link to the right) reminded me that, "Hey, yeah! Holiday shoppers ARE the dark side of humanity incarnate!"
Speaking of which, I've gotta go deal with them now. Heaven forbid they not get instant gratification...
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Thanks
My thanks to Anonymous for the tip in their comment to my last post. Always good to have resources so we can do as much work as possible on our own careers. Kind of reminds me of something Cherokee says:
Y'know how every actor hears at some point the phrase, "Remember, your agent works for YOU, not the other way around"? I'm sure whoever said that originally meant to empower actors to take charge of their careers, but often what happens is exactly the opposite — actors cop an attitude with their agent and forget that there's a greater demand among actors for agents than agents looking for actors to rep. So the agent gets "unenthused" about the actor and s/he ends up going from agency to agency wondering why they can't get work. Kind of like a bitchy society matron complaining that "you can't find good help these days," all the while she's demanding not so much "help" as "demeaning servility" from her domestic employees.
Well, Cherokee's take on this is, "If I pay my employee 10% to find work for me, that means that 90% of the work is up to me." Sure, that may sound cute, but it helps with the attitude adjustment.
Y'know how every actor hears at some point the phrase, "Remember, your agent works for YOU, not the other way around"? I'm sure whoever said that originally meant to empower actors to take charge of their careers, but often what happens is exactly the opposite — actors cop an attitude with their agent and forget that there's a greater demand among actors for agents than agents looking for actors to rep. So the agent gets "unenthused" about the actor and s/he ends up going from agency to agency wondering why they can't get work. Kind of like a bitchy society matron complaining that "you can't find good help these days," all the while she's demanding not so much "help" as "demeaning servility" from her domestic employees.
Well, Cherokee's take on this is, "If I pay my employee 10% to find work for me, that means that 90% of the work is up to me." Sure, that may sound cute, but it helps with the attitude adjustment.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Picking Up a Bit
When it's slow, every little audition, gig, or other blip on your Actor Radar becomes a Big Deal, so I guess the fact that I've had three such Big Deals this week says more about how slow it's been than anything else. Still, worth noting in my diary here are:
1). I went to an orientation session for the Equity EMC program. I've actually already got 20 hours or so toward the requisite 25 for joining (for members of sister unions), but I remember how much I resented not having gotten an orientation when I joined my first 4A union 15 years ago, so I thought I should show up or else have only myself to blame for the next 15. Half the presentation was on "why unions are good" which, given my background, was like preaching to the choir, but the other half was new and informative. AEA is definitely different from SAG and AFTRA, and that's mostly a good thing.
2). I had an audition for a spokesperson type of thing for a national brand that really resonated with me on a number of levels. First, it was the sort of character that I used to get called in for quite a bit 'back in the day'. Not so much in the last five years. Second, it was one of those old-fashioned spokesperson searches that you just hardly see at all these days, complete with specs from the Breakdown Service and lavish talk about the "quintessential qualities" that will make this character stand out above all others (and which are of very little use to the actor when preparing for the audition). Lastly, fortunately or unfortunately, it reminded me of the time when I actually was a spokesperson for a national brand — lots of complex emotions over the experience, but a lasting impression of just how ephemeral recognition, fame, notoriety, etc. are (and why they're a ticket to a Bad Place mentally if they becomes one's goals rather than the work itself).
and,
3). Yesterday I had perhaps the quickest voiceover job I've ever had. I couldn't have been there more than 5 minutes. It took longer to fill out the paperwork after than to do the read. It was one of those spots where they cut together a dozen people saying the same speech, so they really only needed each voice to "not suck" for at least 3 seconds.
Being who I am, these events led (of course) to a certain amount of introspection, the result of which was my realizing something that I wish I'd adopted as a credo long ago:
"Keep sucking until you don't."
Seriously, it's a great formula for success, and it's more concise than all that blather I used to hear about being persistent, continuing to train and educate yourself, getting as much experience as possible, etc. No — just don't be afraid to suck, because (in all likelihood) you will. Then, rinse and repeat, making adjustments along the way of course, until things click and you're not so sucky.
Now if I could only convince those casting directors who saw me suck once-upon-a-time to forget their first impressions...
1). I went to an orientation session for the Equity EMC program. I've actually already got 20 hours or so toward the requisite 25 for joining (for members of sister unions), but I remember how much I resented not having gotten an orientation when I joined my first 4A union 15 years ago, so I thought I should show up or else have only myself to blame for the next 15. Half the presentation was on "why unions are good" which, given my background, was like preaching to the choir, but the other half was new and informative. AEA is definitely different from SAG and AFTRA, and that's mostly a good thing.
2). I had an audition for a spokesperson type of thing for a national brand that really resonated with me on a number of levels. First, it was the sort of character that I used to get called in for quite a bit 'back in the day'. Not so much in the last five years. Second, it was one of those old-fashioned spokesperson searches that you just hardly see at all these days, complete with specs from the Breakdown Service and lavish talk about the "quintessential qualities" that will make this character stand out above all others (and which are of very little use to the actor when preparing for the audition). Lastly, fortunately or unfortunately, it reminded me of the time when I actually was a spokesperson for a national brand — lots of complex emotions over the experience, but a lasting impression of just how ephemeral recognition, fame, notoriety, etc. are (and why they're a ticket to a Bad Place mentally if they becomes one's goals rather than the work itself).
and,
3). Yesterday I had perhaps the quickest voiceover job I've ever had. I couldn't have been there more than 5 minutes. It took longer to fill out the paperwork after than to do the read. It was one of those spots where they cut together a dozen people saying the same speech, so they really only needed each voice to "not suck" for at least 3 seconds.
Being who I am, these events led (of course) to a certain amount of introspection, the result of which was my realizing something that I wish I'd adopted as a credo long ago:
"Keep sucking until you don't."
Seriously, it's a great formula for success, and it's more concise than all that blather I used to hear about being persistent, continuing to train and educate yourself, getting as much experience as possible, etc. No — just don't be afraid to suck, because (in all likelihood) you will. Then, rinse and repeat, making adjustments along the way of course, until things click and you're not so sucky.
Now if I could only convince those casting directors who saw me suck once-upon-a-time to forget their first impressions...
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Slowness
Surprised to find it's been close to three weeks since my last post. I have to say it's been extremely slow. Auditioned for a couple of plays — I sucked at one, thought I had a decent shot at the other, but in the end didn't get either. Had a voiceover job on Monday for a packaged food, but that's been about it as far as jobs go.
I can't help remembering the argument that was raised during the Commercial Strike of 2000 to the effect that actors are overpaid. I can honestly say that I would have to quit commercial gigs entirely if I made any less than I do now. Sure, getting $200 for recording in a booth for an hour probably sounds excessive to some, but if folks are going to go by "hours worked" they should also include the 30+ auditions it took to land that gig, each of which costs me at least 2-1/2 hours of time (travel, waiting, recording, etc.)
And while I know some of the advertising suits don't think the time invested on auditions counts, the fact is that it's a prerequisite to having a viable talent pool to draw on. They want us to be investing all that time, whether they know it or not. I mean, if the only actors they could cast in their commercials were those that happened to be available for their audition because they had nothing better to do — those who, for instance, weren't taking off time from their temp job (and losing that income in the process) — their commercials would all suck. So fair's fair: if you want professional actors, don't dismiss the rather extreme amounts of uncompensated time they invest pursuing professional work.
Anyway, this just crosses my mind more at times like these, when it seems I'm auditioning endlessly with few rewards...
I can't help remembering the argument that was raised during the Commercial Strike of 2000 to the effect that actors are overpaid. I can honestly say that I would have to quit commercial gigs entirely if I made any less than I do now. Sure, getting $200 for recording in a booth for an hour probably sounds excessive to some, but if folks are going to go by "hours worked" they should also include the 30+ auditions it took to land that gig, each of which costs me at least 2-1/2 hours of time (travel, waiting, recording, etc.)
And while I know some of the advertising suits don't think the time invested on auditions counts, the fact is that it's a prerequisite to having a viable talent pool to draw on. They want us to be investing all that time, whether they know it or not. I mean, if the only actors they could cast in their commercials were those that happened to be available for their audition because they had nothing better to do — those who, for instance, weren't taking off time from their temp job (and losing that income in the process) — their commercials would all suck. So fair's fair: if you want professional actors, don't dismiss the rather extreme amounts of uncompensated time they invest pursuing professional work.
Anyway, this just crosses my mind more at times like these, when it seems I'm auditioning endlessly with few rewards...
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Up and Down
I've always said that one of the primary characteristics about Life as a Professional Actor is that "the highs are really really high, but the lows are really REALLY low". I'm kind of having both right now, along with a general milieu of dissatisfaction. (I usually try to have my milieu on the side as a sauce, but sometimes it just comes with the salad, know what I mean?)
On the upside, I've had a couple of voiceover jobs in the last couple of weeks. One was a demo that turned into two demos during the session — it went okay, but I'm not sure I caught on early enough that the client wanted two rather different attacks on the different scripts (and maybe they didn't know themselves either until they got deeper into the session). The other was a job for a bank in a major metropolitan area, but the bank is only in that one city (meaning little-to-no residuals). Still, it was a fun job calling for an extremely character-y read, so I'm not complaining.
On the downside, NOTHING has been happening in the on-camera department, so of course at times like this I'm inclined to wonder what I'm doing wrong. I'm pretty sure the truth of the matter is just that nothing really is happening — commercials are not being made, because advertisers are putting more of their spend into non-broadcast advertising (e.g., Internet, product placements, etc.).
Still, I have an on-camera audition later today that's kind of ticking me off. I don't know what it is about this particular casting director, but I always feel like they put me at a disadvantage before I even walk in the door. I'm usually scheduled late in the casting session, which usually puts me at the end of the tape/DVD the client receives, and the fact of the matter is that a certain percentage of auditions are just never seen at all because the client is overwhelmed after seeing the first 20-30 auditions. Secondly, I don't know whether this betrays an underlying contempt for actors or what, but I almost always feel as though the person running the session feels as though the talent is incapable of coming up with ideas on their own, so they try to "direct" the talent in a rather constrictive manner that stifles creativity (surely that must result in cookie-cutter auditions on the final tape, making THEM look bad, so why do they do it?) And lastly, I think they just don't know what my "type" is, so I fairly often end up being called in for something that's a stretch at best.
All of this has resulted in my having NEVER booked anything through this particular casting director's office in the 10 years or so I've been at this. Which, I'm sure only enforces their opinion of me as a non-starter. But, of course, hope springs eternal, so I never turn down an audition from them unless I have a product conflict or some other good reason. (Note to casting director: "Hello?! I have product conflicts! Doesn't that tell you something?!")
There... I got that off my chest. Time to put that back in my Shoebox of Bitterness and concentrate on just being brilliant in my audition.
Or, failing brilliance, "good enough" to land the job.
On the upside, I've had a couple of voiceover jobs in the last couple of weeks. One was a demo that turned into two demos during the session — it went okay, but I'm not sure I caught on early enough that the client wanted two rather different attacks on the different scripts (and maybe they didn't know themselves either until they got deeper into the session). The other was a job for a bank in a major metropolitan area, but the bank is only in that one city (meaning little-to-no residuals). Still, it was a fun job calling for an extremely character-y read, so I'm not complaining.
On the downside, NOTHING has been happening in the on-camera department, so of course at times like this I'm inclined to wonder what I'm doing wrong. I'm pretty sure the truth of the matter is just that nothing really is happening — commercials are not being made, because advertisers are putting more of their spend into non-broadcast advertising (e.g., Internet, product placements, etc.).
Still, I have an on-camera audition later today that's kind of ticking me off. I don't know what it is about this particular casting director, but I always feel like they put me at a disadvantage before I even walk in the door. I'm usually scheduled late in the casting session, which usually puts me at the end of the tape/DVD the client receives, and the fact of the matter is that a certain percentage of auditions are just never seen at all because the client is overwhelmed after seeing the first 20-30 auditions. Secondly, I don't know whether this betrays an underlying contempt for actors or what, but I almost always feel as though the person running the session feels as though the talent is incapable of coming up with ideas on their own, so they try to "direct" the talent in a rather constrictive manner that stifles creativity (surely that must result in cookie-cutter auditions on the final tape, making THEM look bad, so why do they do it?) And lastly, I think they just don't know what my "type" is, so I fairly often end up being called in for something that's a stretch at best.
All of this has resulted in my having NEVER booked anything through this particular casting director's office in the 10 years or so I've been at this. Which, I'm sure only enforces their opinion of me as a non-starter. But, of course, hope springs eternal, so I never turn down an audition from them unless I have a product conflict or some other good reason. (Note to casting director: "Hello?! I have product conflicts! Doesn't that tell you something?!")
There... I got that off my chest. Time to put that back in my Shoebox of Bitterness and concentrate on just being brilliant in my audition.
Or, failing brilliance, "good enough" to land the job.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Life
Just discovered that StoryActor has been hurt in a serious car accident. It's times like this that writing about one's career seems so pointless, or at the very least secondary.
Matter of fact, I think that sums up pretty well the primary cause of attrition in the ranks of professional actors — folks discover there are more important things in life. Or, at least, Life's events can be more important than whatever motivated you to be in the Biz in the first place. Those whose sole goal, for instance, is to be "famous" (whatever that may mean to them) often find it hard to reconcile their pursuit of that goal in the face of starting a family. I mean, really — what actor can argue that the World needs their talent more than their daughter needs her responsible, caring, and financially supportive father?
Sigh... best of luck to Story. I hope they recover well and quickly.
Matter of fact, I think that sums up pretty well the primary cause of attrition in the ranks of professional actors — folks discover there are more important things in life. Or, at least, Life's events can be more important than whatever motivated you to be in the Biz in the first place. Those whose sole goal, for instance, is to be "famous" (whatever that may mean to them) often find it hard to reconcile their pursuit of that goal in the face of starting a family. I mean, really — what actor can argue that the World needs their talent more than their daughter needs her responsible, caring, and financially supportive father?
Sigh... best of luck to Story. I hope they recover well and quickly.
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