Monday, March 11, 2013

Skinny Jeans and a Sh*t Ton of Yes's.

Getting back to acting is like squeezing into your old pair of skinny jeans.  I dont mean the crap style they have today that cause a muffin-top on purpose.  I'm talking about that one pair of jeans you keep at the back of your closet in the hopes that one day you'll bring it out again and it will fit like a glove.  Or,  like a properly fitted pair of jeans.  

This past week I've taken the "jeans" out per se. And they fit for the most part... but it's slightly tougher to breathe in them.

Acting is a gear in a machine that constantly needs oiled.  It will get rusty after awhile and sometimes just stops working if left neglected.  Above all things, I think nerves and low self esteem cause the most rust.  The longer you are out of commission, the further that gear deteriorates and the stiffness spreads.

Have I overwhelmed you with excessive metaphors? It ain' over yet.

There's nothing like feeling well oiled. (ok, for once that was not a double entendre so just stop your sick little selves right there). But truly, the feeling of being prepared and well practiced is like going to the gym on a good day and hitting your stride after the first 3k. Well, it is for me at least. Everything is warm and working and responsive. And you feel good. Really good. Like maybe you can do this. Be this. Get this life you want.

After the last post, I was ready to have a serious pity party.  But I hung in there and lo and behold, within a week I've gone on two film auditions, filmed an audition for a Shakespeare company, signed on as a lightboard operator for a show, signed on to help out at Broadway Backwards next week, written another two pages of my book, scheduled a reading of The Philadelphia Story, rehearsed two songs and a scene for a showcase I am doing in two weeks, and have scheduled another scene to be performed in April.  I've also signed on to a committee for a small festival called Mass Rhetorics with a theatre company where I read new plays that are submitted and help choose five to put up at the end of April.  I also booked a side job helping out at a couture wedding trade show in April for a weekend.  So...I think I'm busy. 

Sad thing is, finances will still be tight. Even after all that.  But I'm getting by.  I need to remember that everything I'm doing has to do with the industry. And if it doesn't, I'm doing things I enjoy.  Patience is not really my thing so I'm working on being ok with where I am now.
As Faith told me tonight, "I know what I want.  And I want it now.  Why is that so difficult for people to understand?"  I completely get where she's coming from.  But every YES is a success.  And I've just piled on a sh*t ton of YES's.

Should be a fascinating month.


 

Friday, March 1, 2013

Reasons Why Being a Non-Equity Actor Sucks: Take One.

Oh, friends.  What a life.  I've been trying to wait a few days to find the humor in it all.  But I think I'd be waiting a real long time.  So here it is.

Things are finally picking up on the audition front.  I had written in my calendar five auditions to go to this week.  Count them.  FIVE.  How many do you think I was seen for?  I'll give you a hint: 

It's zero.

zilch.
Nada.
Rien.
Nil.
Goose egg.
None.
Nix.
Naught.
Zip.  Zippo.  Zipporooney.

Who's not a happy camper? [points to self] This girl.

Let me tell you how it works in the life of a Non-Union Actor.  (My actor friends will have experienced this a hundred times already).

Ok, so Monday was my fault.  There was a call for a job in a theatre I didn't care about with shows I didn't want to be in, but that is neither here nor there.  I should've gone.  I need the practice.  I need to audition.  And I could have tried out one of my new monologues with very little pressure.  But I stayed up late watching the Oscars (how ridiculously long was that I tell you.  p.s. I love Jennifer Lawrence.  Anne Hathaway is still my least favorite person and looked like she bought her dress from Mariposa in the mall.  And I think I'm a little bit in love with Daniel Day-Lewis.  I never thought he had a sense of humor, so that crack about him and Meryl made my night).
Anyway.  By the time the damn show was over, I thought that six am was coming around entirely too soon so I bagged the audition.  Big mistake.  I was in a bad mood for the rest of the day.  Because I knew it was my fault.  It's one thing for you to not get a job because someone said no.  But it's another thing entirely for you to not show up.  For then you don't even have the option of a Yes.
After the day of guilt, I knew that was not a mistake I would make again.  That kind of self-loathing is a waste of time.  Better to just get up and go to the audition.

So Tuesday.  Two different shows were holding Equity calls at the same audition studio.  How convenient one might say.  I could bounce from one room to the other, in theory. 

*Shitty Equity Lesson #1:  The rule is, if you go to an equity call, they see all union members first.  Then they see what they call EMCs which are those people who worked a union job in the past but were still non union.  THEN they see non-union (me) actors.  What is so friggin sad is, most grad schools will give you your equity status or at least EMC status when you graduate. But since I went to a UK school, I only got UK equity.  It does not translate to USA equity.  So I go on the bottom of the list.

Back to the Tuesday.  I get there at 8am.  Auditions don't even start till 10am.  ...the line of people winds around the building for both calls.  Each of them holding an equity card.  By the time I get up to the table, there are 100 equity members signed up, 30 some EMCs, and I am number 62 on the non-equity list.  Let us do the math.  They see about 150 people on a good day.  ...my ass turned around and left. 

Wednesday.  This is the one that mattered.  I REALLY wanted to be seen for these two calls.  Both were equity but one was being directed by Julie Taymor, and the other was for Shakespeare in the Park which is a dream of mine.  I wasn't about to not go.  I learned a new monologue for it for crying out loud.  This time I got there at seven.  It was pissing down rain.  The holding room smelled like wet dog but there were maybe a third of the amount of people there than yesterday.  I was number 9 on the non equity list and they were flying through the equity auditioners.  It was looking good. 

I looked in the mirror.  I was wearing an off-white dress.  Wait.  What is that on my shoulder?  I look closely...  See the thing about NYC rain, is it ain' clean.  My entire left shoulder was marked with brown water spots.  Right.  Ok.  It doesn't matter.  I'll just wear my hair down.

Six hours go by.  They are still steadily going through the equity list, but the rain has stopped.  And when the storm stops, the actors come out of the woodwork. 

*Shitty Equity Lesson #2: Even if you got up at the butt crack of dawn and signed up ages before an equity or EMC person, they can walk right in, sign up, and be seen within minutes.  They always hold precedence over non union, regardless of when they show up.

75 equity member wandered in throughout the day.  The list that once looked so promising, grew to desolation.  At 5pm, (when I am three hours late for work but stayed because they kept reassuring us that it looked promising), they finally finished the equity members.  And there was time for only a few EMCs.  There were 30 EMC people there.  I began to hate my life.  I looked in the mirror again.  Twelve hours of sitting on metal chairs, being talked to by "actors" who just moved to the Big City and this was their first audition and how amazing an experience it was, my eyes are bloodshot, my hair is wilted, my mascara is beneath my eyes, the watermark has expanded on my shoulder so that no amount of hair would cover it...and in walks the dude that was an asshole when I did background work for the Carrie Diaries.  No. Way. 

The dude that bitched and moaned and threw tantrums.  And he's staring at me.  Oh God, he's trying to place me.  Wait. What is he doing?  Is he signing up?  Wait.  He's EMC?!  This assinine piece of swine who is here in dirty khakis, a hairy neck, and a gray thermal with holes in it that looks like he has a mouse problem...he's going to get seen before me?  What???

I know i'm not supposed to compare myself to anyone else.  But after twelve hours, see how good YOU feel.  I have a masters.  I was on the Globe stage last year.  And this is beyond humbling.  It's part humiliating.  And you know what?  It's part of the game. 

But the most frustrating part of it is, I don't mind having a door shut in my face.  If it's a no, fine.  But to have the door locked to begin with?  That's just gut wrenching.  To not even have the opportunity.  To have gone through all that stress and preparation.  This is why people choke when they finally GET seen.  Because they're exhausted waiting.  And they are out of practice because no one will give them a chance. 

I left that audition and walked straight to work.  One of my jobs is working at a performing arts school.  And to pour salt in the wound, that evening it was my job to check coats of all the agents that were coming to see the students' showcases.  I had a moment and asked myself, is this it?  Am I going to be the servant forever?

This is a normal thing, friends.  This crap happens when you want to go to calls that actually pay and are good productions.  And it is so true that if there is anything else I could do that would make me happy, you are damned right I'd do it.  People are lying when they say auditioning is fun.  It's not.  It's torture.  But the job, once you have it...nothing has ever been better.

I got home that night to find an email from a grad student director who called me in for an audition on sunday.  I have an appointment.  So no wasted time there.  And a shakespeare company has asked for a video audition that I can make from the comfort of my living room.  Now THAT's how to do it.  No waste.  No wilting.  No pissing down rain.  Lord, please send me more of that.

*Shitty Equity Lesson #3: It never ends.  Being equity does not solve all problems.  Neither does having an agent.  Or even having an Oscar.  Case in point.  On my way out of the building on Weds, I rode the elevator down from the sixth floor.  It stopped on the fifth and in walked Cuba Gooding Jr.  The elevator was crowded, and I looked at my feet to avoid staring.  That, and I was afraid I'd have a tourette's moment and shout at him "SHOW ME THE MONEY!"  ...like he hasn't heard that before.  Or even worse, I'd say "eek, Snow Dogs...what were you thinking?"  But what really occurred to me is he has an Academy Award.  And he is still hustling just like the rest of us.  It is rare to be Daniel Day-Lewis or Meryl Streep.  Where you are at the top and you stay there.  I have friends who were on Broadway last year and then this year they are back to hourly jobs and going to open calls.  That's the way it is.  It is huge highs, and even larger lows.  But the highs can be so very beautiful. 
I did manage to look up at Cuba for a hot second and he looked right back.  He knew that I knew who he was.  And I think he may have been grateful.  The elevator hit the ground floor and people shuffled out (no one saying a thing to him), he let me pass in front of him and I thanked him.  He nodded and said, "you're welcome."  And that was that.

And I didn't even ask him if he kept his Oscar in his bathroom.  Pretty proud of myself.  Look Ma! I got couthe.