So, the new year has got you brimming with motivation. You’re focused, engaged and you want to get in a class. But how do you find a class that’s right for you? Before you go spending all kinds of money on classes that over-promise and under-deliver, here are some tips that might help.

THE RIGHT TECHNIQUE

Acting teachers are often guilty of desperately clinging to the validity of the technique they teach. When you stake your honor and your mortgage payments on one technique, you’re probably not going to be super objective about it. You may even talk smack about another technique in order to build yours up. But let’s be clear- there is no one, correct way to act. Every actors responds best to a different technique (or an amalgam of a few). No technique can guarantee that you’ll book work or be a brilliant actor. If a teacher tells you that her or his way is the only way, walk away. You should probably investigate every techniques and discover which one resonates with you. More than likely you’ll take little bits of goodness from a number of different techniques. Take what you like and leave the rest, as they say.

THE RIGHT TEACHER

1. If a teacher says she or he can make you a star, you’re being lied to. If a teacher says she or he can make you a brilliant actor, you’re being lied to. No teacher can turn you into Meryl Streep any more than a basketball coach can turn you into Kobe Bryant. Like a trainer at a gym, a good teacher shows you exercises and a form that allow your pre-existing talent- your unique voice- to emerge and thrive within a world of a play. You have the tea and a good teacher shows you how to craft a cup to pour it in. Yes, some teachers have access to agents, casting directors, etc, but those people will only consider you if you’re talented and look the part. When it comes down to it, any claim other than “I can show you how to discover and express your own voice in unique ways” is over-promising.

2. A teacher should let you audit one class for free so you can get a sense of the class and decide if it’s a good fit for you (audit a number of different classes before you find what you like). If you have to pay up front, it may not be kosher. I can think of one teacher I know who makes you pay to audit but I think it’s bad form and if I were you I’d ask to check the class out for free.

3. When you’re in class, your teacher should be a teacher, not an actor. Yes, it is remarkably helpful if the person with whom you are studying is, or has been, a working actor. That practical, on-the-ground knowledge is very useful. But when teachers are teaching they need to remove their acting hat. It should not be about them; their ego, their technique, their disappointing career, whatever. You don’t pay a teacher to indulge her or his ego, career or anything else for that matter. Teachers are there to train you. Nothing else. Anything that a teacher does in class should be in the interest of training you to be a better actor.

And while we’re on the subject, great actors don’t necessarily make great teachers. Michael Jordan is not Phil Jackson. Jerry Rice is not Vince Lombardi. Wayne Gretzky is not Scotty Bowman.

4. Assume that any good teacher will push you. You’re wasting your money if your teacher isn’t pushing you to be better. This doesn’t mean that you should ever feel physically unsafe or be humiliated in class (see #3 above). But you need to be pushed. The type of profound progress needed to succeed as an actor is never achieved within one’s comfort zone and a teacher should take you to a place of discomfort and do it with nothing but care and your progress in mind.

5. Don’t assume that a teacher is competent simply because she or he has a connection to Strasberg, Hagen, Meisner, etc. “She studied with the guy who studied with Strasberg!” It’s really quite meaningless. Those great teachers taught a lot of folks (we know many of them- some talented, some not) and being at the foot of a master teacher does not mean that person has the same gift for teaching that the master possessed. Even if all the knowledge of the master teacher is transferred to a pupil, there is only one Sanford Meisner. Each teacher is her or his owe person with her or his own history, sensibilities and intuition. Find a teacher that works for you, challenges you and brings out the best in you, regardless of their lineage.

MAXIMIZING YOUR TRAINING

1. You mustn’t wait to be taught. It’s not enough to sign up for class, pay and attend. Be an active student. Choose to take risks- risk screwing it up, risk saying and doing the wrong thing, risk not being enough. And pay close attention to the other student’s work. Often times you can learn as much by observing them as you can from being on stage yourself. Don’t check out when you’re back in your seat.

2. Avoid Guru-ism. Understand that your goal is not to please the teacher. Your goal is to grow as an actor and a human being. It’s not about the teacher, it’s about you. Don’t turn your teacher into mommy or daddy, give up your power (as we actors are known to do) and try your hardest to make them proud of you. All that tired, old stuff keeps you powerless and does nothing to further your craft or your career. And if you find a teacher who encourages such behavior, be wary.

3. Engage in the community of artists in the class. I’m not saying you have to be pals and go out for drinks with the actors in class every night, but it might not be a bad thing sometimes. There can be a community in a class that allows actors to talk with one another about the process and the business, to collaborate, commiserate, etc. Be open to it.

All that said, don’t hesitate! Sure, take some time finding a class that resonates with you. But start training as soon as you find one. It’s imperative that you keep your skills sharp, stay engaged in the work and keep growing as an actor and a person. If you’re not on stage or on set, you should be in a class.

The New Year brings with it a clearer sense of focus and motivation. You’ve taken stock over the holidays and you’re ready to take action. You want a successful acting career and you want it bad.

OK, so it’s a new year and you’re motivated. So, what’s now? How do you turn New Year’s motivation into the real, practical stuff of kicking ass in the film and TV business? While there’s no set path to acting greatness and nothing you do can guarantee that you’ll be a star, here are four practical steps you can take this week that will help your acting career.

1. Train. All the time. Get in a class or classes and learn everything there is to know about acting, filmmaking and theatre. Think you already know how to act? Do yourself a favor and humble yourself with a new technique or teacher. Even if it turns out not to be your cup of tea, you’ll grow. Train to keep your skills sharp, to grow as an actor and a human being and to stay engaged with a community of artists.

2. Write and record your own material and then distribute it on the internet. Actors have never had this much power; cameras, editing programs and distribution have never been this accessible. These days the only thing that is keeping you from creating art is you. It’s all there for you. You don’t need an agent, a stage manager, a casting director or a studio executive. So, go on and create. Like, today.

3. Organize your tools. Headshots, resume, reel, website, etc. They should all be in order so that you can pull them out of your back pocket at a moment’s notice without taking a week to update them. Make sure your shots, resume and reel are current. You don’t have to spend the earth on this stuff (like the ridiculous photographers who charge $700-$1000 a shoot) but you should invest in good quality tools. If you need recommendations, email me.

4. Be self aware. Take a fierce inventory of your goals and what you might be doing to keep yourself from reaching them. Every actor has room to grow. Evaluate where you need to grow and work to achieve that growth.

2012. Let’s get to it!
]]> http://www.actingthetruth.com/an-actors-resolve/feed/ 0 http://www.actingthetruth.com/holiday-survival-tips-for-actors/ http://www.actingthetruth.com/holiday-survival-tips-for-actors/#comments Mon, 12 Dec 2011 21:33:49 +0000 admin http://www.actingthetruth.com/?p=978

The business is winding down for the holidays and actor’s all over LA are booking flights home, pulling money together for gifts and strategically sending “Remember Me?” holiday cards to casting directors. It is a time of reflection. Of family, friends and food. A welcome break for many. But beyond all the merriment and cheer, the hectic, emotionally-charged holiday season can also offer many challenges for actors. So, here are some tips to keep you happy, healthy and out of jail this holiday season.

BIG FEELINGS

If you’re an actor, you’re probably hyper-sensitive. You’ve got big feelings. And those feelings can get you in all kinds of trouble during the emotionally-charged holiday season. It seems like everything is emotionally heightened this time of year and you can feel like you’re on an emotional roller-coaster. The expectation of merriment and blissful make you feel small. The extra money you have to spend on flights, gifts, etc is a source of anxiety. The increased sugar intake jacks your emotions up only to send them crashing down. And then there’s family (more on that later). It’s all enough to drive a hyper-sensitive person insane. In order to get through it, it’s so important for actors like you to take time to check in with yourself amid all this emotional craziness. Ask yourself how you truthfully feel. Write it if you can. And remember that feelings come and go. Big feelings will move and get smaller in time. Don’t react in the moment as you would in your work.

FAMILY

It’s entirely possible that your family doesn’t get you. They may not understand why you want to be an actor. They may not be happy about it. It’s even possible that they are lawyers or doctors or systems analysts or account managers and they don’t speak the same language as you. AND THAT’S OK. We all speak different languages and it is on you, the person in the family who understands human behavior more than most, to accept them for what they can give you and what they can’t. That probably means that you won’t be seen for who you are this holiday season. And you have to get right with that, too. Don’t expect things from people whom you know can’t deliver. Let the passive aggressive comments go. Don’t meet resistance with resistance over the holidays. Only bad things will result for you. Just breathe and maintain your inner emotional life by writing, texting friends or whatever medium you use to get it out in a non-combative way. Remember: they’re not actors (even if they are). They’re family. Breathe.

EXPECTATIONS

We’ve all heard the statistics that suggest that an inordinate amount of suicides happen over the holidays. I bet the contrast between expectation and reality has a lot to do with it. With all due respect to the actors involved, I happen to find the Lexus, “We got Mommy a car” commercials and the “Every Kiss Begins with Kay” commercials off-putting. These advertisers decide what happiness in our society means (and it just happens to include owning a Lexus and a diamond from Kay Jewelers) and the result is that most of us don’t feel like we measure up. Given that the desire for acceptance and “happiness” is a powerful motivator, the media- advertisers in particular- forces us to examine our own lives relative to those they portray and we rarely measure up. Our spouse didn’t buy us a car cause she doesn’t make enough money. Our family isn’t together at Christmas cause Daddy left. We can’t have turkey dinner cause Aunt Jackie has a gluten issue. This is the stuff of life. It doesn’t mean that you can’t be happy. It means that you are a human being. Deciding what Christmas or New years should be like as opposed to discovering what it is, is just like deciding how a scene will go before you’ve spoken a line of dialogue. It craps all over the beautiful, truthful and surprising moments of life. Aside from the one advertisers can plant on my ass, every kiss does not, in fact, begin with Kay.

THE QUESTIONS

When you go back to your proverbial village for the holidays, everyone wants to know how far you’ve come and what you’ve accomplished along the way. “So, you been in anything big lately?”, Uncle Whoever might ask. “You meet any celebrities out there?”, Cousin What’s-His-Name inquires. The reason why we find those questions offensive is because they assume a narrow definition of success; a definition that most of us don’t maintain consistently and many of us don’t achieve at all. We all want to be the local boy or girl who made good and impressed our family and friends back home but aside from the tangible evidence that standing beside Mark Harmon on NCIS gives them, what we have to offer probably won’t be understood by most folks as success. “I got some great feedback from a big casting director in November.” “I made a huge breakthrough in my acting class this year.” “I wrote and shot a short over the summer that got into a festival.” “I don’t get scared when I drive on the 405 anymore.” Understand that we may measure victories in a way that most people who don’t know the business won’t understand. If you’re feeling courageous you can try to explain it to them (good luck). But don’t take it personally when they ask. They just don’t know. Be above indicting them for their ignorance (did that sound harsh?).

GETTING CRUNK

Anytime you put food, alcohol, and family together during a three to five day celebration, excess is bound to appear. You’ll eat well past capacity, drink like a fish and just generally do whatever the hell you want. “Screw it! This is my holiday”, you’ll say. But this can be bad for your body, your emotional life and your craft. Food and drink can mess with your feelings making small things seem big and big things seem small. Also, keep in mind that pilot season is around the corner and you’re going to need to be in fighting shape and have your mental and emotional shit together towards the end of January. For the sake of your career, moderation is the key. Have a good time, but don’t do damage that you’ll have to undo when you get back to real life. Moderation is not something actors are great at. But try.

DOWN TIME

Many of you are Type A people who are always working on ways to get ahead in the business. You live and breathe acting and your career 24/7. This forced break can be irritating to some of you; a red light on the Autobahn. For some of you it can be like all of a sudden the music was turned off and all you have to listen to is the deafening sound of your own thoughts. It can make you antsy and make you want to fill the silence with bad behavior, negative thoughts, etc. Do what you can to embrace the silence in a positive way. Take a step back and think about your career and your craft. What do you want? How are you going to get there? Are you doing enough? What’s working and what isn’t? Beyond that, I’ll remind you again that pilot season is around the corner and the December/January break is always a good time to organize your life for the hectic season ahead.

THE HOLIDAY ORPHANS

For those of you who don’t have family and friends near you over the holidays, my advice to you is to seek out a community of actors to be with. Isolating isn’t good- especially for hyper-sensitive people over the holidays- and it’s a broad stroke but I’ve known actors to be some of the most generous and accepting people I know. Reach out to other holiday orphan actors you know, tell them where you’re at and offer your community and generosity in exchange for theirs. Do the work of finding a community. And breathe.

I’m sure your Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or Festivus will be happy and joyous. But I’m also sure that life is always more than happiness and joy. If you stay in touch with your inner life, are accepting of others and celebrate in healthy moderation you’ll survive anything that the holidays can throw at you and you’ll be ready to get back to work in January.

Happy Holidays!
(Don’t forget to breathe)

5:40pm. You open the email from your agent. You have an audition. You read the email and note the time and location. It is at this moment when your egotism rears it’s hideous head, opens its jaw and begins vomiting fear.

5:42pm. You see who’s casting the show and your mind wanders back to the last time she called you in. It didn’t go well. She was cold to you, you didn’t do what you wanted to do and she hasn’t seen you in a year. Obviously this audition must represent that casting director offering you another chance. She’s always casting great projects so you will need to make a good impression in order to make up for the last audition.

5:43pm. You examine the breakdown. They’re looking for a woman in her early twenties but you’re twenty-nine and play mid to late twenties. You officially feel less-than. Perhaps you can wear that T-shirt that you think makes you look younger and put your hair in a braid? Maybe then you’ll be what they want. You write yourself a note to go to CVS to buy more make-up. You’re going to need some help looking twenty-one. Moreover, the breakdown describes her as “brash and ballsy, one of the guys.” You cry during The Bachelor and prefer the color pink. You now hold a firm belief that you are not the actor they are looking for.

5:48pm. You download the sides. The first thing you see is the page count. 11 pages. For an audition at 10:00am tomorrow. And it includes a half-page monologue. Your fear of failing forces you to place an intense focus on the lines. You must get them right or you’ll be disregarded. Later in the evening you’ll post a Facebook update expressing your hatred for getting 11 pages of sides the day before the audition. 24 comments. 36 Like this post. The fear mounts.

5:50pm. You call your friends and cancel your dinner plans so you can concentrate on your audition. You won’t go to yoga tonight either. Your mind tells you that you have to spend the entire night working on this audition.

Ten minutes. In ten minutes you have allowed your fear to ruin your evening and more importantly get in the way of you having a compelling human experience in the audition room. Why? Because your fear is all about you. Fear, anxiety, nerves- they scream at you to protect yourself. They convince you that there is some impending doom about to befall you and then demand that you look out for number one. And that undermines everything acting is. Acting is a relationship, a truthful reaction to another. And in ten minutes you’ve become so wrapped up in protecting your own feelings that you won’t even notice the other person in the audition room. You won’t talk to the reader. You’ll talk at the reader. It’s all about you.

The truth is that the casting director probably didn’t remember your last audition. Not because you’re not special but because she sees hundreds of actors for a project. The truth is that breakdowns and age specifications are almost always flexible and either name recognition or talent usually win the day. The truth is that having an interesting human experience in the room is so much more important than being word perfect. Not to mention that there are a multitude of issues that the entire production team face that are so much more pressing than what you did in an audition a year ago, what you look like or what you will say tomorrow at 10:00am. If you really think about it you’ll come to realize that the whole process actually has very little to do with you. But now that you’ve ignored all these truths and cancelled all your plans for the evening, you’re going to spend the entire night nurturing and cultivating your fear. This audition will not go well.

I’m not saying you’re a bad person. You’re just a poor manager. Often times the source of your talent is hyper-sensitivity, the ability to feel deeply. The other side of that hyper-sensitivity is that you are affected by everything outside the world of the play as well within it. And you allow the high emotional stakes of being or not being validated in an audition room- or on set or in relationships, etc- to block access to your feelings.

It’s all about managing the fear. And how does one do that? Well, there are a bunch of good options from adopting Navy SEAL stress-coping techniques (google them), to getting into an on-going acting class. But I think the best possible way to manage your fear, nerves, anxiety, etc is to make it about someone else. I’m about to blow your mind here…

MAKE THE READER THE STAR OF THE AUDITION. That’s, right. Your audition has nothing to do with you. Make it all about the reader. Try doing what you can to support the reader. Try giving the reader what s/he needs and try to help the reader give you something in return. Convince yourself that the emotional consequence you’re so afraid of is less important than affecting the reader in the way that s/he needs.

And it translates to set, too. All the “I’m not coming out of my trailer” crap and the “why is she getting more close-ups than me?” ridiculousness is really just your fear screaming at you to protect yourself from monsters you don’t need protection from. Make it about the other person in the scene. The answers are all on the other person.

Wise people have always told me that the worst thing you can do when you’re feeling depressed or unworthy is to stay home, sit on your couch and isolate. The best thing you can do is volunteer work. Working for someone else in a cause that may not seem like your own, pulls you out of your head, keeps you physically, mentally and emotionally active and makes you lose the selfish focus on you and your issues. And what you get back is immeasurable.

Same is true when we act. Whenever your head starts spinning elaborate webs of fear and anxiety, make it about the other person. Try to lift the reader up in the audition room or your fellow actor on set. You’ll end up booking more work and the ripple effect might even change your life.
]]> http://www.actingthetruth.com/nervesandnarcissim/feed/ 0 http://www.actingthetruth.com/the-rick-perry-gaffe-a-lesson-for-actors/ http://www.actingthetruth.com/the-rick-perry-gaffe-a-lesson-for-actors/#comments Fri, 11 Nov 2011 16:34:39 +0000 admin http://www.actingthetruth.com/?p=909 It was painful to watch. I’ll bet even the most fervent, Republican-loathing actor had to cringe. For almost 60 seconds of the most recent Republican primary debate, presidential hopeful Rick Perry struggled to remember his lines. There were no cue cards. No, “Cut! Lets try it again.” Rick Perry was out there, live, in front of millions of viewers stammering, flailing and ultimately crashing and burning. Oops. General consensus is that it has done irreparable damage to a campaign already in decline. While his other debate performances were mediocre or not good, this was dreadful.

And while Rick Perry will most likely be laughed out of town, I believe that his gaffe is an important lesson for actors. I believe that his monumental screw-up represented much more than simply going up on his lines. It represented an emotional disconnect between the words and the actor (or politician) speaking them. Rick Perry wasn’t emotionally invested in what he was saying. He was just trying to get the line right.

We actors get it, right? He forgot his lines and so have we all from time to time. Even if you’ve studied your lines for days or months before the performance, sometimes they just aren’t there when you need them. You’re at an audition, on stage or on set, there are distractions, you’re nervous, the director’s being a jerk, your scene partner is horrible. It happens.

But ask any casting director. The don’t care if you drop a line. The truth is that no one cares if you forget a line or two if, in fact, you’re emotionally invested in what you’re saying. In politics or in acting, it’s far less about being word-perfect than it is about authenticity. If Rick Perry felt passionately about what he was saying, I maintain that gaffe would not have occurred on that level. If we actors have made it all about getting the words right (a product of mathematical thinking about a performance- “if only I get every word right- tell them what thy want to hear- they’ll love me and give me the job”) we’re not invested in the substance of what we are saying.

As New York Times columnist Matt Bai put it in his article, “The Other Problem With The Rick Perry ‘Oops’ Moment”, “…tongue-twisting and mind-lapsing aren’t necessarily deal-breakers. If they were, former Presidents Dukakis and Gore would be out playing golf together and boring their caddy to tears.” There are plenty of candidates (and presidents) as well as talented, famous actors who regularly drop lines and even say really stupid things. But it’s not about that.

If you have done the work of connecting to the material- even the most wordy, babbling, medical or sci-fi tech speak- you may drop a line here or there but no one in the audition room will care because they will not question your authenticity. What matters is that you care about what you’re saying when you’re saying it.

While I’m of the opinion that if you have the audacity to step into the ring you better be able to both throw and take punches, on some level I feel for Rick Perry. He, like so many aspiring actors, didn’t do the work of connecting to the material and now his dreams won’t come true. Oops.

He should have coached.

While I get that the goal of many actors is to do right by the casting director, director, writer, producer, etc, I believe that, much like the decision to eat or not eat, to go the bathroom or to hold it, an actor really has got to figure that stuff out for her or himself. Have a point of view. Make a decision.

Follow my logic. You want the producers to hand you the lead role in their TV pilot, thereby placing millions of dollars, their reputations and the reputations of the network and the studio on your shoulders… and you don’t know if you should sit or stand. That is absolutely ridiculous. Do whatever you want to do. Make a decision that works for you and until they tell you otherwise in the room- and they might- have a point of view about where you want your body to be located in space and time. This is the fundamental stuff of strong, active and engaged artistry.

It could be true that standing brings “more energy” to a scene (or so they say) and that might be a consideration for you, but the”Sit or Stand” question wreaks of a powerless actor wanting mommy or daddy to tell them exactly what they should to do get it right so that actor can be validated and feel better about themselves. But that’s not real life. You are an actor with a unique voice. Even if you don’t feel like it’s true all of the time, at least pretend that you are an artist that has creative talent to bring to the table. If you’re not that actor and lack the courage to have a point of view about such a basic function, why would they hire you?

The same goes for questions like, “should I bring my sides into the room or should I be off book?”, and “if there are multiple people in the scene should I read everything to the reader or should I look in a different direction for each character?” There are a multitude of audition teachers and so-called “experts” who will declare with great certainty what the right answer to each of these questions is. But they are full of crap. Why? There is no one right answer. Each casting director has their own opinion, their own sensibility. It’s art and it’s subjective. One wants you to be off book. Another wants you to have the sides in your hand. One director wants you to improvise another wants you to be word perfect. Others still don’t care one way or the other. Listen to your gut and do what works for you. If they tell you otherwise in the room, fine. Find a reason to do what they ask and do so graciously. But start with bringing your voice and your creation to the audition.

You know what’s universal? What is true every audition? Talent resonates. If you’re talented you can do any damn thing you want in the room. But talent isn’t about how well you followed directions. It’s about a unique point of view, about affecting people emotionally. They’ll never know you’re talented if you’re waiting for them to tell you what the right way is. Talent isn’t passive.

Don’t be passive. You’ve sacrificed too much to be passive. Casting directors look right through passivity. They’re seeing too many actors to stop and do the work of trying to help you have a point of view.

If you want to sit, sit. If you want to stand, stand. But have a point of view and risk being wrong.
]]> http://www.actingthetruth.com/sit-or-stand/feed/ 0 http://www.actingthetruth.com/waiting-is-death/ http://www.actingthetruth.com/waiting-is-death/#comments Mon, 17 Oct 2011 23:42:38 +0000 admin http://www.actingthetruth.com/?p=858 It’s Tuesday. You wake up around 9 or 10 in the morning. You make some coffee, check your email, Facebook, Twitter and read some news sites for an hour or so. If you’re feeling inspired you go to the gym, maybe meet Sally and Joe for coffee, look at your sides for an audition later in the week and then get ready to work your night job.

You’ve been in LA a few years and you’re making it work. You got a job, you’re paying your rent, you got a decent agent and you’re in the game auditioning a couple times a week. Things are comfortable.

And now you wait. You book a guest spot or a commercial every once in a while and you get decent feedback most of the time, but you’re waiting for the right audition to come along, the right opportunity to show them how brilliant you are. “It’s just a matter of time”, an encouraging friend might say. And you believe her. So you wait. You’re waiting for the industry to bestow upon you the fame, riches, and validation that you currently lack. You’re waiting for that one agent, casting director, director, producer or executive to really see your talent and give you the opportunity to spread your wings and fly. You wait, and you’ve created a life that keeps you comfortable while you wait.

But as the months pass and the comfort sets in more deeply, there is a reality you’re ignoring. The truth is that by passively waiting for the industry to shine it’s light upon you, you are giving up your creative power. By waiting for the industry to choose you, your career strategy involves little more than crossing your fingers and hoping that you win the acting lottery. You are waiting.

Passively bowing in reverence to the great god that is the film and TV business in hopes that it will give you its blessing is for schmucks. By all means, an actor should do everything in her or his power to acquire great representation, be brilliant in auditions and book many amazing jobs. But in this day and age as much effort should be as invested into one’s own work. You must create your own work. You must make your own opportunities. You must write, direct, produce, act in and/or shoot your own material. If you’re not taking command of your creative voice you’re giving your power to other (potentially non-creative) people and silently waiting for them to tell you what to do. You have become a child, waiting for a parent to tell you where to go and what to do. But technology has made it so that you no longer need mommy and daddy to achieve your goals. Cameras are easily accessible and the internet is your distribution company. You have to take advantage of that.

Beyond the powerlessness, playing nothing but the waiting game often results in an actor sadly waking up Tuesday morning ten years from now in very much the same place that she or he is in today. The industry is fickle. It’s moody. It loves you, then it hates you. And the definition of success within the industry is narrow (book or not book) and often means that there are opportunities for but a small number of the masses of actors who are all trying to book that job you’re auditioning for. Sitting back and waiting your turn often means either waiting for a turn that never comes or getting sent back in line again once that turn is over. Look around. You see it everywhere in this town. Older actors waiting for the business to save them. Waiting for the industry to rescue them from their bills and their insecurity, pat them on the back and tell them that they matter again. By creating your own material, writing, acting, producing, shooting and acting in your own work, you increase your chances of success within the industry and enjoy the satisfaction of a creative struggle that is your own, void of industry permission slips. Will writing a short and posting it on Youtube make you rich and famous? Maybe. Maybe not. But you’ll have the opportunity of being seen and you’ll be working on your craft. And that’s better than waiting for the phone to ring.

The days of waiting for that phone call are over. Examine your life. Look at your career. Are you waiting for someone else to tell you that you can act? Are you losing sight of why you came to LA and took that job at the restaurant? If yes, and you still want to have a career as an actor then while you’re dutifully answering your agents calls and kicking ass in your auditions, you need to eradicate the powerless reverence of the industry, take matters into your own hands and create.

Whether in a scene, your career or your life, passive floating, waiting for some external force, is death for an actor.

Steve Braun

I love writers. They’re smart, socially awkward and often have a keen understanding of human behavior. But the term “writer”, like the term “actor”, is used quite liberally. Dude at the end of the bar whose cousin’s roommate works at CAA is a writer. The girl doing community theatre in Boise who inherited a couple million and wrote a “vehicle” for herself is a writer. You’re a writer if you write but not every writer has the skill required to write well. As a result, you, the actor, will deal with scripts written by a multitude of writers with varying levels of skill and it is your job to make each of them look brilliant. It is your job to speak their words truthfully and with an active point of view. No bullshit excuses. No eye rolling. No, “I’m so much better than this script” attitude.

I happen to love bad writing. A lot. When an actor shows up to my office to coach an audition with sides that are overwritten, illogical, inhuman and full of dramatic punctuation, I get really excited. Why, you ask? Because I’m madly in love the process of acting and bad writing forces you to really engage in the process. You have no choice but have to be more creative with your preparation, make stronger choices and be more focused on what you want from the other actor or actors in the scene or else you’re sunk. With the right attitude an actor can become even more engaged in a scene from a lame script than a well written one.

In the Meisner tradition, I believe that the dialogue is a canoe that floats upon the ocean that is your truthful feelings, what you want from the other actor and how you’re trying to get it. “Please, pass the salt” can mean, “I’ve always loved you, “I’m gonna kill you”, “I need some salt for my eggs”, or anything else for that matter. With all due respect to the writers, it’s possible to create a wonderful, truthful, emotionally charged, high stakes scene by reciting the phone book back and forth. But only if you’ve done the creative work and some mental gymnastics to make the poorly written world of the play meaningful for you. That work is necessary, rewarding and our job.

Now of course sometimes when the writer is really talented, efficient, stylized, etc (Mamet, David E Kelley, etc), that canoe is a big ocean liner sitting on the ocean and the actor must rely more on the words. But in our world of mediocre films and TV, often times the canoe is more of a busted up raft. And that old raft requires you to connect even to it. It requires your heart. And doing the work- even when it’s not Stephen Gaghan- will make you a better actor.

But I get that it’s not easy to do. Because our work requires emotional investment and almost guarantees rejection, actors can adopt an “I don’t give a shit” attitude about certain work. Insecurity and the fear of being bad in a movie that was written by moron, can lead you to not try or to overcompensate by acting like you’re better than a project. This behavior is bad for a career.

Poorly written scripts often pay a lot of money (whether it’s that straight to DVD, 5th installment of that once popular horror movie or Star Wars Episode I, II and III). You can put the kids through college on a string of bad TV movies shot in any of the former Communist Block countries. Plus, most actors with a long term career have a story or two about that crappy movie that, due to a chance meeting on set or a standout performance, lead to bigger and better things.

It’s a poor craftsperson who blames her tools and it is a poor actor who blames the writer. If you can’t connect to a line of dialogue, it’s your fault. You need to do the creative work of figuring it out and making it meaningful to you. Ask for help if you need to. You need to muster up the guts to lean harder on your intention and have an active point of view.

It’s not the writers fault.

Steve Braun

Cue the flashback. It was a mere 4-6 months ago when you and actors all over Los Angeles were in the midst of what felt like a life and death struggle for pilot season supremacy. Every week-day for three months you bandaged the wounds of the previous day’s rejection, learned your lines and put your heart on the line one more time in the audition room. Every day you battled the traffic, the industry- your agents, casting directors, producers, other actors- and your own self doubt just to be granted the opportunity to test for a show. And it took its toll.

Sleepless nights, upset stomachs, neglected relationships. By the end of it all you were almost broken and, like the overwhelming majority of actors, weren’t celebrating a victory.

While the scars remain, the wounds have healed. And just in time for you to set your DVR’s and watch the very pilots you tried and failed to be a part of. The result is stunning.

What follows from watching the new pilots, reading reviews of the new Fall line up and following the latest cancellation news is an understanding of the true nature of our business. 9 times out of 10 the pilot is mediocre at best and many of the pilots don’t even last two weeks on the air. This reality forces you to face the fact that once again, you gave up your heart for three months trying to achieve something that is fleeting and mediocre. While you had notions of booking a great TV show, lasting three seasons and then making the jump to films or another great show, this harsh reality makes tangible the fact that the months of work might not have been worth the result. And that doesn’t feel good.

Moreover, this reality won’t change. Ever. The structure of the industrial model is set and the business is what it is. Creating an entertaining television show in a very short period of time that satisfies the bottom line for networks is very difficult. And even when a show gets picked up the pressure is on to keep the ratings up and for you, as an actor, to never be anything but brilliant. It’s very difficult for actors and technicians to work in such a high pressure environment. The structure almost doesn’t allow for unique artistry. The Dexter’s of this world are a very rare breed.

So, what should you do? With the odds of achieving TV stardom stacked very much against you and the result of a victory often being nothing but mediocrity, should you forget your dream and give it all up? Should you go back to school and get a desk job? I say no. But you do have to alter your thinking.

The best part of what we do, the only thing that is real and constant in what we do, that no one can ever take away from us, is the work. The craft of acting. If we love that, void of the red carpets and critical acclaim- and we must or we need to go back home and do something else- we will never be discouraged. We will battle our own limits and struggle to perfect our craft, but we will never be less than.

I suggest that in the moments when the business declares that you are a failure, when you lose hope of ever booking that big role; when your agent won’t call you back and when the casting director feedback indicates that you’re not beautiful or sexy or interesting enough; in those moments, I suggest that you cling to the work.

You must write and shoot your own work, you must train constantly and you must always remind yourself that it is the emotional expression within the art of acting from which you derive your worth. Not from the industry. With a a focus on the craft of acting, you will take the desperate obsession out of your auditions and leave more room for artistry. You will stop trying to please and get it right and start trying to have an interesting, truthful, human experience in the room that resonates. You will understand that you are more important than the industry and that your truthful emotional expression is more important than a TV pilot. And it is that very moment when booking such a pilot is most likely to occur.

Steve Braun

And no matter how ridiculous the stage direction, one of the actors first questions is: “Do I need to do all that in the room?”

Given that 90% of what actors do involves trying to please other people in an attempt to ensure that those people will represent them, continue to represent them, hire them or continue to hire them, actors often acquire Pleasing Disease.

Pleasing Disease is contracted when one habitually ignores one’s own voice and adopts a singular focus on making everyone else love them. Actors with Pleasing Disease believe that fame and fortune will rain down from on high when they manage to find the answer to the question, “What can I do to make them love me?” Once answered and executed, the logic goes, the job will be theirs.

What follows is an attempt by such actors to systematically perform every stage direction- every look, every smile, every dropped tear- precisely as it is written on the page. Once every base is touched, that actor will feel confident that the audition has been a success.

Of course, chances are it probably hasn’t. It’s just the disease convincing the actor that it has.

Acting, auditions and art in general are not mathematical. They are subjective. There is no logical formula for success that is true in all cases. Any acting coach who says otherwise is full of shit.

Every casting director is different and no one can say with certainty what the right way is, but I tell new actors and veteran actors alike that when it comes to miming stage direction in an audition, don’t do it for anyone else but you. If it helps you to take a drink from a glass that isn’t there, do it. If raising your hands and holding an imaginary gun on the perp while you’re busting him helps you feel more in control then do it.

But don’t mime any action because you think they need to see it. They’ve read the script. Hell, they may have even written it. They don’t need you to show them what’s there. You’re better served by making strong, personal choices, bringing you to the world of that play and not worrying solely about what you can do to make them love you. The art of acting and the film and TV business can give you a lot of things, but if you’re looking for a fundamental feeling of love and acceptance, you’re looking in the wrong place.

Don’t let Pleasing Disease affect your work or your life.