The Business.
/A yellow Rolls.
The young Canadian actor goes to Hollywood to read for a lead in a movie.
It goes well.
Later that morning in the producer’s office, the young actor is about to leave when the producer asks, “Do you have a car?” “No,” replies the actor. “Hey, take the keys to my yellow Rolls-Royce convertible.”
The young actor thinks he’s died and gone to . . . Hollywood.
All this happens in the morning.
Later in the afternoon, the actor is told to please return the Rolls.
He didn’t get the job.
Once you have a contract, then you have a job. And once you get through the first day of shooting without being fired, then you have a job. And once you receive your cheque, then you have a job. And once the cheque is deposited and doesn’t bounce — then you have a job.
Anything else is just talk.
And for us actors who work for a living, certain talk can be very misleading and damaging.
Develop your professional practice so that you can take everything in the movie business with a cool head. Try to be as sober-minded as you can amidst the hurly-burly of the glitter of Hollywood.
Someone letting you drive their Rolls doesn’t mean you have a job.
Full-time.
If you’re an actor, you work full-time.
No, not necessarily filming on a movie set every day.
OK. Let’s look at it.
You do one audition a week. That takes four days. British Equity has released a code of practice for self-tape auditions that says an actor has four days to learn six pages. Four days to learn the scene and then there is always a day to recuperate, summarize, critique, or analyze the audition to get ready for the next one.
That’s four or five days.
Four or five days per week equals about 250 days a year, which is the average number of working days for people who work in banks, construction, or communication.
What if you do two auditions a week?
And there are the days you are on set shooting.
Then there is the time during the year you’re training, getting headshots, writing scripts for self-run projects, applying for grants, and studying acting.
Sounds like a full-time job.
The next time anyone asks you if you’ve been working much lately and you’re tempted to interpret that to only mean filming on set — you can simply and honestly reply, “Yes, full-time. Ever since I became an actor.”
Agents work hard.
Talent agents are under as much pressure as anyone else.
The good ones work hard to get you auditions and to get you paid as much as possible.
There are many talented actors ready and willing to work yet fewer roles available. This is the competitive nature of the acting profession.
These are difficult times.
First and foremost, agents work for themselves — and why not? They’re in business and want to be successful.
They get their work through the casting directors who work for the producers. The agents provide and regulate the flow of work for you. They are part of the system that is the movie business.
They work hard to keep good relations with the casting directors and the producers, so you will continue to have a chance at landing jobs.
They keep up with the changes in the economy and how it affects the movie business, new rules coming out of contracts, changes in distribution, genres, taste, casting procedures, and everything else that goes on in the business.
Just because you didn’t get a call for an audition recently doesn’t mean your agent isn’t working.
Changing agents.
Have you changed agents during your career?
It’s a common occurrence.
And a most disconcerting event. The actor-agent relationship is the most difficult one you’ll have as an actor.
Why would you want to change agents? The first reason that comes to mind is it’s one thing you can do to help you get more work. Or something you think will help you get more work.
Sometimes you or your agent clash in personality. A reason to get a new agent.
You and your colleagues never have enough auditions or enough work. That is frustrating and you want to do something about it. All natural enough and coming from a real situation.
Desperation can set in and drive you to actions that might not be beneficial. Actions like getting new headshots, moving to another city, schmoozing at industry parties — and changing agents.
The reality of the movie business is that you don’t have any say.
The system is set up with studios and producers getting casting and agents to closely guard the gates. It can be a mystery to you: Am I submitted? Why didn’t I book the role? Does my agent like me? Are my auditions good enough? etc.
If you’re a professional with a good agent and audition regularly and work regularly, then you’re fine and checking all those boxes positively. Your agent likes you. Casting also likes bringing you in and the producers like seeing you.
Problem is nobody tells you this.
Agent-actor is a business arrangement. You must be clear on that. Within that framework, all the good agents are pretty much the same and have the same good relationships with casting. In turn, you have to be businesslike and fulfill your obligations, including to be a better actor.
Of course, getting a new agent can give you a burst of energy and renewed hope, and that’s positive.
But, as always, you don’t want to make a decision out of desperation.
Flirting with the director.
Even though the ideas of equality are all here, female actors are still under a lot of extra pressure. The reality is these modern ideas are yet to be fully realized.
You see it on set.
Actresses often flirt with the directors. The directors often like it. It’s all considered normal.
You’re under pressure to get along in order to help you book more roles. To be liked.
Those film and TV pressures are real. American culture has inculcated women to get by and improve their lot based on their looks and their charm. Not much has changed.
It’s considered normal.
But why should a female actor have to flirt with a director? It seems absurd to even pose the question.
Why can’t a female actor go on set, do her job, be respected, liked for her work, and go home? Knowing she did her job properly.
And why does the director — or anyone in power in the business — expect the female actor to flirt with them while waiting for the lighting setup to finish?
Compliments.
Thank you.
That’s the best answer to a compliment you receive about your work.
You may be confused as to what to say to a colleague after watching them in a show. If they wanted your reviewer’s opinion, they would ask. If they wanted your acting coach’s advice, they would ask.
No one has asked for your opinion on the piece or on the actor’s work. Why give it?
Your actor friend has just finished work and has done their best. Why not say “Thanks for the work” or “Good job” or “Well done” or “Congratulations”?
Then they can reply “Thank you.”
These are proper and cultured exchanges.
The problems of having a successful career as an actor can lead to desperation and a need for constant validation. A need for acclaim. It can become normal to define your life by the number of compliments.
Seeking applause is common.
Learn to compliment yourself by the mere fact you keep going; you train; you audition; you act in plays and movies; you do your best; and — you live.
Those facts can ease a grasping for praise.
A compliment is giving credit to your method of work and your outlook.
The praise isn’t actually for “you” but for your work. Knowing this helps curb the desperation for praise.
Learn to appreciate the work that you and others do.
It’s difficult to build something up; it’s easy to knock it down.
“Do you like your agent?”
One actor asks the other.
You want to have a good business relationship with your agent.
“Do you like . . . ?” is a question we pose when it comes to friends, family, or acquaintances.
The working relationship with an agent is the most important and difficult one in your career and should be based on professionalism, mutual benefit, straightforwardness, formality, openness, and clear and common goals.
An analogy might be found in other work you do. An actor writes:
“I know the great part of the bartending is I don’t care too much about it. Which is key. There is very little pressure added, and when I am not given a shift to work, I’m not too fussed or concerned. I have a very clear understanding of my relationship with the company. And a clear understanding of my value in their company. When I do work for them, I do it well and am good.”
Actor-agent is a delicate relationship that needs your ongoing thought and work to make it successful.
And you must play your part by being active, ready, professional, gracious — keeping up your end of the agreement.
Liking someone is a different story.
The producers like you.
You might audition for the same series numerous times.
It’s common to wonder why they keep bringing you in and why you don’t get cast.
If you keep getting auditions for a particular series, it means the producers and casting want you on that show. They keep a list of actors they want to use. You’re on that list.
As always, they have their reasons for what type they need to fulfill the job of that role in that episode. You might be too tall, too short, young, old etc.
It’s not your acting — if your acting wasn’t good, you wouldn’t be getting more auditions.
The hard work of auditioning is part of the definition of being an actor. Hopefully, knowing the showrunner likes you helps you relax.
A problem with the system is nobody tells you they like your work.
It’s a positive thing that you keep auditioning for the same series.
You’re on their list.
“I’m not making my agent any money.”
If you’re auditioning, you’re earning your agent money.
The agent’s most important business relationship is with the casting director. Submitting good actors allows the casting director to have a good session.
A good session occurs when a casting director’s submission to the producers is of high quality.
That means the casting director will get hired for other shows. That is how they make their money.
They are thankful for the agents who send good actors. The agents are thankful for the actors who do good auditions.
Neither group ever tells you this, but that is how the system works.
You earn your agent money not just by booking jobs but by keeping the system working well.
Now you’re on set.
And you run into difficulties.
Not with your acting.
But with a list of issues that seems to keep coming up show after show. Especially on episodic television and low-budget features like Hallmark, Showtime, Christmas, and horror movies.
Twelve-day shoots.
After some experience with these kinds of shows, you learn what you’re in for, come the next one. That’s good to learn how to protect yourself so you can do your best work.
What you can fight for and change and what you can’t.
The agreement is a good starting point. If you keep the key clauses in mind — overtime, turnaround, safety, heat and cold considerations — you’ll be on the right track.
You’re happy to book the work and then new problems arrive as soon as you’re on set. You aspire to basic professionalism, protocol, on-set etiquette.
The old guys say, “Making movies is easy; it’s how we make them that counts.”
“I hope it goes recurring.”
You often hear your fellow actor on set saying that. It isn’t a bad thought, but you should watch carefully where it might lead you and if you want to go there.
If the idea of turning the one-episode role into a recurring one takes hold, it may have you trying hard to be liked by the producers, director, and series regulars.
That could humiliate you.
You could also get diverted into acting extra hard to be extra good. And that won’t jive with your best work habits.
The showrunners add recurring roles as it suits them. Roles being developed are also discussed in the writers’ room. There, ideas are thrown around and the “what if” question is asked and your character will be part of that talk.
Doing work that is extreme won’t guarantee that they will give you more work. If it doesn’t suit their plans — they won’t do it.
Being professional, always working at your best, helping them make the best episode they can, fulfilling your obligations — all puts you in good stead to keep your dignity.
And it gives the producers the best chance to consider you for the future.
This straightforward approach is the opposite of hoping and wishing. Truth is, you can hope to become anything — a series regular, a lead in a movie, a movie star, or an Oscar winner.
But why do you want to get diverted away from what is precious to you and from what you have worked so hard at up till now?
Being a good actor.
“I heard it’s kinda slow.”
You hear actors say they’re going to call their agent and ask that question.
If your agent represents fifty or a hundred actors and they all call twice a week to ask . . . boy! That’s tough on your agent.
It’s difficult to sustain yourself between jobs. It can drive you crazy. Desperation can creep in.
Calling your agent seems like a good idea, but it only puts them under pressure. Besides, what you’re really asking is “Why haven’t I had any auditions lately?” Your agent knows this and has a pat answer ready.
They have to have those pat answers ready.
This makes for an awkward conversation, and you may end up feeling humiliated. You don’t need that.
It’s actually pretty easy nowadays to find out what’s going on — Casting Workbook, Facebook, the internet, ACTRA, SAG, DGC, etc.
This is your actor’s life and the strength required to carry on in the face of adversity is what it means to be one.
“Who got the part?”
You didn’t get the part, but you’d like to know who did.
Why?
It might seem as if knowing is part of your education of the acting business. You might want to know who the competition is so you can be more competitive. Maybe finding out what it was the producers needed for that specific role will help you for next audition.
As in all your practice, you’ll have to be sharp and specific to see if you gained knowledge by finding out who got cast.
Or did it make you jealous?
Jealousy is common but isn’t a quality befitting a professional.
Just because it seems like all the actors want to know who got the role doesn’t mean that it’s a practice that assists you.
See if knowing who got the role is an asset or a liability to your work — and life — as an actor.
Be sensitive to your feelings.
It’s not a real job; it’s real anxiety.
The actor has been cast in a play that they want to do.
They audition for a recurring role in a series.
Their agent says production has put a pin in them.
The dates of the series and the play conflict. Three weeks pass. The actor hasn’t worked much in the last year. The series will pay much more than the play. The actor has a good relationship with the director of the play.
The actor doesn’t know if they are booked for the series or not.
Six weeks pass.
When asked about the TV job, the actor says, “It’s not a real job; it’s real anxiety.”
“Just do what you did in the audition.”
That’s what directors often say when you arrive on set to play a guest lead or day role.
They don’t remember exactly what you did in the audition; it’s a learned phrase that series shooters repeat. Or they say, “I loved your audition.” Which is even better, as it’s positive reinforcement.
The pros know the old phrase “Making movies is easy; it’s how we make them that counts.” So, those directors are putting everyone at ease.
These are good greeting phrases from series directors. Good protocol, good etiquette.
It’s hello.
The phrases aren’t to be taken literally.
Try to avoid worrying, once you’re cast, how you’re going to remember exactly what you did in the audition when you get on set. That’s not how TV works.
You’ll be prepared, as are the director, showrunner, and crew. Then together you’ll make up the scene — the blocking, acting, lighting. On the spot.
There’s no replicating-the-audition test that you pass or fail.
Truth is you always do remember what you did.
An interesting side note is that the direction you get on set usually differs from what you got in the audition from casting.
Small parts.
Why should you feel bad playing a small role?
If you’re in a large company such as Stratford where the season is long, it means you have work for a good period of time.
You deserve it.
You’ve trained, given your time, had disappointments, auditioned, so, in a way, you’ve earned this work. It isn’t taxing, but having work that is easy to do is part of your actor’s life.
It’s like shooting a commercial and not doing too much in it and then receiving residuals over a few years. Well, it isn’t a gift; it’s just part of the overall payment to you for your actor’s life.
You’ve certainly had many jobs that are difficult. And many that didn’t pay well.
Having good actors supporting the leads is crucial. That is why they are called supporting parts — they support.
“There are no small parts, only small actors” is the old adage. Truth is, there are small parts but those that play them are not small actors.
This idea that only the most famous actors are of worth is pernicious.
Movie stars.
Some actors are movie stars.
You may be one now or in the future.
Most of what you need to learn as a movie star is different from what you’ve learned as an actor. They’re two — often overlapping — different jobs.
Everyone knows the things movie stars do. Interviews on talk shows, red carpets, posing for pictures, promoting movies, getting involved with social questions of the day, being famous. You know all this because of the massive attention given to them, and that attention can be diverting.
As films are made collectively, it’s a contradiction to make the individual — the movie star — the focus.
They carry a huge responsibility when they take on a movie. The biggest stars are referred to when people talk about the project. That’s the so-and-so picture.
It’s their movie.
To be the focus of a multimillion dollar project is a very definite kind of pressure. Not an easy or natural pressure to bear.
Today, with social media, these famous people have a scrutiny the likes of which has never been seen before.
Hollywood created this idea of the importance of individual actors as one of the means to garner more box office. It’s lasted until today.
We watch the movie to see her or him.
One thing is for sure — you don’t learn how to be a movie star in drama school.
In the end, someone appearing in a movie is an actor. Their actual importance to society is only as great as the truth of their character’s portrayal warrants.
Movie stars are an interesting phenomenon in your actor’s world.
Leads.
If you’re a lead on a series, you have a particular responsibility.
A lead is a leader on set.
Doing your job professionally and getting what you need to do that are the best ways to lead. It helps the show. Cast and crew will see that and emulate it.
Often, the biggest problem is just learning your lines.
You’ll develop your short-term memory.
The pressure on everyone is to shoot quickly. On most shows, there are few takes but lots of coverage. Doing your best in each take is enough. There is no time for second-guessing as a lead. The next scene is coming up.
The producers expect you to deliver the same tone, mask, and behaviour episode after episode and season after season. The advertisers have invested in that. To do that, you’ll nearly always be dropped in, instead of having to work hard to get dropped in over and over. That’s too tiring.
You’re looking for all the space you can get in order to play. As a lead, you must find the maximum space possible.
Some time-tested tricks to do that are:
- Get your call time made later. Especially if your hair and makeup only take ten minutes.
- During blocking, ask questions about the scene.
- You can always say “I’m learning lines” to drivers, hair and makeup, and sound to avoid chatting and dissipating your energy.
- If the story isn’t clear in the writing, stop and sort it with the writer or showrunner.
- If you’re still getting the lines in your head and need more time, get them to do the close-up on the other actor and you go second.
- Ask for another take.
Once the show is running, you as the lead have power and often more power than the directors who come in for one or two episodes. Use it wisely.
TV writing doesn’t always make sense but rather serves the needs of the show as dictated by the producers. Play each scene on its own. There is usually no arc.
In the end, dealing with fatigue may be your biggest task.
They’re the best writers.
Producers hire the best writers to write their shows.
Try not to confuse your personal viewpoint and taste with the particular writing that makes that show exactly what it is.
He who pays the piper calls the tune.
To sell their products, advertisers tell the networks what kind of show they want. The networks buy those shows and hire showrunners to make them. The showrunners tell the writers what to write.
They’re doing their jobs and doing them well. The content may be racist, sexist, pro-war, put people down, harsh, violent, and more, but the writers are doing their jobs.
Your job is to interpret that writing and act the role the best you can.
Look closely at how the writing keeps the style consistent through repeated icons, syntax, music of the language, length of lines, transitions, storylines, plots, types of guest stars, etc. The consistency of the writing fulfills the singular nature of that particular show — episode after episode. That takes hard work and skill.
Writers try to meet the demands of those who pay them.
They are the best writers.
Sit in the back seat.
Try not to get diverted, so you can do your job well.
Take note of what diverts you.
Do you sit in the front seat of the transport vehicle and talk to the driver because you want to be nice? It might not suit you.
Maybe you want to sleep, look at your lines, or just daydream. Do it.
In hair and makeup, they might start talking to you, asking, “When did we last work together?” etc. You can hold up your script and say, “I gotta learn my lines, thanks.”
The TAD will come and get you to bring you to set. She’s been trained to be nice — so she chats. You may want to walk to set on your own — I do. And go on set when you want to — I do. You may not want to hear her talking on the walkie — I don’t.
While waiting for a lighting setup, all the actors sit in the cast chairs. There might be lots of talk. If you don’t want to talk — move your chair. When shooting, I sit on an apple box off to the side.
You’re already a nice person, so you don’t need to use extra energy to be nice.
Being professional is the watchword, and every other professional on set will recognize that and appreciate it.
On the set of the film A Dry White Season, the actress Janet Suzman noted that Marlon Brando didn’t look at anyone as he walked from his trailer to the courtroom set. He had his head down. He was going to work. If he looked at everyone — all who knew he was Marlon Brando and wanted to have a look — that would have depleted his energy. He kept his head down so he could keep his energy and do his best work.
Sit in the back seat.
Translating.
So many terms you run into in the TV business need translating.
They don’t mean what they say.
The point is to use your brain. Think things through. If a phrase has you caught off guard, give it some consideration. Rather than take it at face value and as the truth just because they said it.
The power of the industry to give or not give you work can divert you from seeing what something really is.
Learn from your own experience. Observe others. Ask leading professionals.
Let’s use “Stand on the mark” as an example. The phrase that greets you when you enter an audition room.
It literally is just “Hello.” A greeting to get the audition going. One day, ask casting what they mean when they say it.
“Just throw it away.” In a way, they’re saying “Act better.” You might be indicating. They didn’t say “Stop indicating”; they said, “Throw it away.”
You have to interpret that.
Your agent might say, when discussing your fee for an upcoming film, “The producers just don’t have the money.” Actually, they do have the money or else they wouldn’t be making the film. That translation might read “The producers want to put more money in their pocket instead of yours.”
Stage directions in scripts don’t need to be fulfilled as they’re mostly the writers making it easier for the producers to read. See if a direction is useful to help you play. If not, try to ignore it. Especially in auditions.
Peer closely through the haze.
Planned responses.
When you feel attacked or put on the spot, it’s great to have a good comeback answer.
Even a simple, common question from a fellow actor can throw you off.
If you meet colleagues every day and answering the usual questions puts you down, that makes for a long day of hard work getting back up.
It’s culturally popular to put other people down to put yourself up. A fellow actor’s question such as “Are you working?” seems innocuous, but if you’re not working, it can sting.
Answering “No, nothing these days” can put you down.
An answer to that common question could be “My auditions have been really good.”
Having a learned phrase at your disposal when confronted with the usual difficult question or greeting is a useful practice.
Repeating the practice makes it your habit.
How to greet a movie star the first time you work with them? That threw me off for years. Then I came up with “Congratulations on all your work.” That kept me in good stead for years. Now, partly because using the planned response freed me from some of the pressure of the idea of a movie star, I just say, “Hi.”
“Did you book that job?” There’s another question, asked by a colleague you saw at your last audition, that’s actually uncultured, but asked anyways. Your answer could be “I liked my work in the audition.
A fellow actor asks you, “What are you up to these days?” and you feel the need to explain or answer honestly and say, “Not much,” or “No auditions,” or “I don’t know” . . . and down you go.
Answering “Good. Doing some writing these days. How are you?” keeps you up.
That will end the exchange right there — then the other person will start talking about themselves. You just saved yourself going into a hole.
Your answer is true — you are writing — and it is going well because you’re doing it. You can stand behind what you said.
It also calms your colleague.
Having an answer that ends with a positive, inclusive offer to your fellow actor is good. It includes them, makes the commonality — not the contradiction. Makes them feel better.
We’re in the same boat.
These preplanned answers should be things that are true and that you can stand behind. Giving a response that is above and beyond you can make you feel awkward.
Simple phrases that you learn and repeat on cue strengthen your conviction.
Paul Robeson.
Why do some proprietors of casting studios hang posters of Hollywood movie stars on the walls?
You may have your own thoughts on Marilyn and Marlon, but do you need to be looking at them just before you enter the audition room?
It’s distracting. You’re trying to focus.
And as a Canadian, you’re already under so much American pressure.
Do you need to see videos showing scenes from the acting classes offered at the casting studio?
It’s humiliating to say the least.
Anyone who knows anything about the difficulties of being an actor in the movie business will know that actors auditioning need all the support they can get.
Meaning simple décor. Neutral colours.
Make it easier for the actors to take their space.
I suppose if you have to hang a poster, at least make it of Paul Robeson. Or Gordon Pinsent. Or Alexander Moissi.
Are you Jewish?
One morning, I was talking with a close colleague. A Black actor, very experienced both on stage and in front of the camera.
The actor was relating to me the directions they had got from casting re: their callback.
“Be more Black.”
Talking about that humiliation, I remembered other Black actors saying the same thing. We both shook our heads at the situation.
I joked, “What if they said to me ‘Be more Irish!’?” (I’m half Irish, half Jewish.)
We laughed.
In the afternoon, my agent called me and said there was a lead role in a film and casting had asked, “Is John Jewish?”
We didn’t answer the question.
Old school is good school.
So many guidelines in the film and TV industry are gone.
The times have changed. Often protocol isn’t followed, clauses in the producer-actor agreements are broken, preparation time for auditions shortened, less days to shoot an episode, lower actor’s fees, more control by agents and casting, lower-level content, middle-management watchdogs, executive pressure.
It’s always been a tough business, but at least there were rules in place, etiquette followed, precedent referred to.
There was a way to make movies. Old school.
Change is constant and one never wants the old per se, but forms that serve should remain. It’s difficult to build something up and easy to knock it down.
The question always is: Does the school serve the students?
Good old school allows you, the actor, and all the film workers a proper place to create and produce.
Maybe old school is just school.
Suck up, kick down.
Try to present your work.
A common trait today, once someone has achieved a certain position of power, is to learn how to hold on to it. That can include kicking those down the ladder who are trying to come up and sucking up to those above.
If you get desperate, you may find yourself trying to do that.
Presenting your work in a straightforward, simple, and elegant manner is an altogether different approach.
You prepare your work, present it, and leave it — nothing more, nothing less — so the worth of it will be seen.
That saves you the liability of being part of a vicious cycle leading nowhere — sucking up, kicking down.
How you relate to the producers, agents, casting directors, actors, and others in power in the film and TV industry is a serious question. Try to do it professionally.
Metaphorically speaking, you could present your work in the audition room like a samurai. Enter, bowing, throwing a silk cloth in the air, drawing your sword, turning it upside down, cloth floating down, crossing the blade, and splitting in two.
You replace the sword, bow, and leave.
Let mules and piglets do the kicking and sucking.
How to self-promote.
You want to do all you can to promote yourself.
How to do it is a complicated and difficult job.
The producers — through the casting directors and agents — keep a pretty tight rein on how much you can do. For instance, it’s considered a no-no to bypass the casting system and send your own tape directly to a producer.
Forty years ago, you could drop into a producer’s or casting director’s office and introduce yourself, but today that isn’t done.
You need to learn the current protocol for self-promotion and to develop new ones.
The old school way of sending a note still works. If you’re doing something positive and active like doing a play, booking a role in a movie, taking class or writing a play, let them know.
The note is a quick, positive reminder of you.
Website, demo reel, photos, résumé, Instagram, TikTok, short films are all good, standard ways to make people aware of your work.
The straightforward presentation of your work is always the way to go.
One agent told me that demo reels are more reactive than proactive, which means if a casting director wants to see your work on short notice, then your demo reel serves that reactive purpose. Otherwise, they’re too busy to watch it.
When festivals like TIFF get taken over by Hollywood as part of their campaign for the Oscars, then hard-sell “American”-style networking takes place.
The producers have a new system where an actor’s popularity on social media counts in casting. They reckon this popularity will sell more tickets.
An example of how the producer’s interests are mixed in with actor’s promotion is the IMDb STARmeter and its award. This award recognizes actors and actresses deemed “fan favourites” on IMDbPro’s STARmeter chart, which measures the search behaviour of IMDb’s 250 million plus monthly visitors.
But self-promotion also includes participation and raises important questions like: How do you as a modern actor participate in the movie business? How do you take your place? Where is the opportunity to have your voice heard? What are your concerns? What do you want your film community to be?
The intense competition for roles can be confusing.
See what best suits you.
Headshots.
There’s a lot of work needed to figure this one out.
Generally, in the early part of your career, getting a headshot is a bit of a nightmare. There aren’t any courses on it. On how to do it.
In fact, the very idea of a course on headshots probably sounds absurd. Certainly not de rigueur. And not discussed at most drama schools.
Often, you resort to a mindset similar to getting your picture taken in Grade 8.
Posing.
How to let them see you — that’s the key.
Acting for camera is letting them, us, the camera — see you.
Knowing that you’re being seen, but not having dealt with it through practice sessions and analysis of what it is that’s making you nervous, can produce a horrible experience.
What do you want to show the producer? “One serious and one smiling” just isn’t good enough. Too general, too vague, and completely misleading. You usually just try to “smile” or “be serious.”
Disconnected.
Self-consciousness is the issue here.
Your hyper inner monologue could go like this, “Hello, casting, producer, director. You can look at me,” or “Hi there, I know you’re looking at me. That’s fine. I like it. Look as long as you want,” or “Being looked at is part of my job. Letting a camera photograph me is the work I do.”
Saying phrases like this out loud before the photo shoot is excellent practice and saying it during the shoot is even better.
You have to be on your own breath. You have to have real thoughts going on — thoughts that will produce the picture you want to present.
Through your eyes.
Approach it as you would a scene, rather than a “photo shoot” with all the confusion that’s attached to that idea.
Act your shots. That’s what you’re good at.
You might want to be inviting, threatening, poised, low status, innocent, cool. The adjective has to be clear when you’re looking in the lens. Find your action verb to produce the adjective.
Decide who you’re looking at.
If you’re starting with a new agent, they invariably ask you to get new headshots and have the authority to choose which shots are used. That’s both an asset and a liability.
The best headshot photographers in the city are skilled. No question. But often they don’t follow the simple rule of taking a photo so it looks like you.
That’s a minimum.
They often make you look like a movie star. Why? Is that fulfilling some civilian idea you might have of what the movie business is and your place in it? Or the photographer’s idea of giving good value for the money?
It’s just not suitable.
Let movie stars take movie star photos.
A headshot doesn’t mean you should look gorgeous, attractive, handsome, or exciting because in the movies we need everyone and how everyone looks.
If you’re an actor who has a natural demeanor and look, then why wear heavy makeup and a low-cut top with a push-up bra? I see actors come into class who cannot play the types that their headshots represent. They can’t support the look of the photo.
That’s misleading for agents, casting, and directors.
The cost of the photo shoot is another real pressure.
Your headshot is important, yes, but it isn’t the be all and end all.
When asked about your headshots, you might be saying what many actors say: “I hate my headshots.” That’s not a professional comment about your work.
See if you can figure out how to take headshots so you say, “I like my headshots.”
“Lost track.”
In the meditation hall when the master asked the head monk why he rang the wrong bell, the monk answered, “Lost track.”
That’s all he said.
The head monk is a master teacher himself, so he knows what bells to ring and when and how, because he’s done it his whole life.
But he made a mistake.
Mistakes happen, but what should you do when you make one on set, in a play, a rehearsal, or in acting class?
Try to follow the example of the head monk.
A simple recognition of the error.
On set, after the mistake, you must move forward with the work. The crew, director, and other actors are. There’s no need for complicated explanations that will further divert the work and draw even more attention to yourself.
That isn’t professional.
If you are going to be late for an acting class, then just say “Sorry I’m late,” but don’t elaborate over the messy details. Same thing in an audition — especially in an audition. There are only two possible reasons to excuse your lateness for an audition — car crash or someone’s death.
Otherwise, a simple “Sorry” will do and get on with it.
The pressure is great on all of us making movies today and we work such long hours and everyone is tired — so mistakes happen. The dolly grip misses a mark, the boom is in the shot, the focus wasn’t pulled correctly, a prop missed.
When you drop a line or don’t hit your mark, it’s normal.
Develop a conviction that you mostly produce quality work, always strive for excellence, and sometimes lose track.
Skin as thin as glass.
That’s what you need when acting on camera. It’s both literal and figurative.
Let us see you.
When you drop in and believe, your skin literally changes. It softens and opens. We go in with you. As you have more experience and train properly, you’ll learn to open your skin.
The screen loves and demands this intimacy — seeing into your psyche. Allowing you out and the viewer in.
It’s acting for camera.
Watch actors and see when their skin is as thin as glass. Watch yourself and see when you feel your face, skin, and body open up. Note when you’re tight and we can’t see as much.
Relaxing does it, but it might be more complex than just relaxing.
To survive the movie business, you also need the opposite — a very thick skin.
Skin as thin as glass when acting — thick skin in the business.
A guide of opposites for an actor.
Lunchbox.
It’s great when you’re just going to work.
After much experience acting, the excitement and nerves change. After you’ve acted in a lot of movies, the near hysteric level can’t sustain itself.
That’s when the work turns into work.
Maybe when you’ve done a long run of a show. Days and days on a series. Lots of movies over a career. Tons of auditions.
You can get tired and even a bit bored, and when called to set, utter a small “Phew.” You’re not literally bored — just putting in another shift.
Going to work. And I think that’s when your best work really starts.
It’s back to quantity and experience.
It’s so soothing to just pack your lunchbox, go into the factory, and say “Morning fellas, everyone OK?”
And turn on the machine.
The level you’re at is the level you’re at.
Don’t be pressured to think that your acting should be somewhere other than where it is.
It isn’t realistic, and you need to be if you want to improve.
This doesn’t mean you don’t have aspirations. Of course you do, but you have to start from where you are now.
Sounds obvious, doesn’t it?
The key is knowing that your work is at the proper level now. With all the assets and liabilities that that includes. You shouldn’t or couldn’t be at any other level. Accepting that is such an opening of the door for your improvement.
In analyzing where your work is at, you take two aspects into account: you, the subjective; and the industry, the objective.
Having unrealistic expectations leads to disappointment, which you want to avoid. The movie industry has lots of disappointment already built into it. Wishing you were more advanced is just, well, wishing, and you know, “If wishes were horses . . .”
Look the thing in the eye. Call a spade a spade. Tell it like it is. That will focus you — your mind, your work.
Know that the level you’re at now is the level you’re at.
Needed.
You and all of us want to be needed.
It’s only human.
When you’re cast in a show, part of the good feeling is that the movie needs you. It can’t be made without you playing that role. You’re now an integral part of the whole.
You’re needed.
If you’re not booked on a show and not getting auditions, you can start to feel like you’re not needed. You’re capable and professional and ready to audition and work, but it seems as if you’re not needed.
That’s a terrible feeling.
And that feeling can divert you when doing auditions. Try to guard against that.
In fact, even when you’re not getting auditions or shooting on set, you’re needed. The movie business needs to have an army of actors ready and waiting. The system is set up that way.
Just as skilled bakers, wheat farmers, teachers, loggers — all — are trained and ready to work yet they may be part of that long-existing army — the unemployed. Seemingly not needed.
Linking how you’re needed to how others are needed will deepen your conviction to stick to your ideals and fight for what you believe in.
As you are part of the community, developing new work, training, and participating with your peers — that means you are needed. Remember that.
The village needs you to help tell their stories.
If things were different and you always had the opportunity to fulfill that need, you’d feel better.
Know you’re needed as an actor.
Directors.
Most directors are in the same boat as you.
They are freelance and were looking for a job when they got this one.
They do have the authority on set, but their relative status in the movie business is about the same as yours.
It’s the networks, studios, streaming companies, and executives who call the tune.
That can allow you to be sympathetic to the director’s situation. It can also allow you to do your work easier. They are colleagues, and there’s no need to give all your power to them.
Regulars on series soon learn that they know more about their character and the show and have more status than visiting directors.
It’s part of the actual relations of TV.
Directors are under two pressures: to get the shots in quickly and to get along with the producers. One and the same thing.
If they don’t give you much direction — realize the pressure they’re under.
The few directors in the world who work on rich, realistic scripts are true creative artists and they will work with you in the best way. That condition is few and far between.
Low-budget independent film directors usually discuss a lot. The funny actor’s rule is “low budget, more talk.”
Knowing the director’s situation allows you to better fulfill your obligations.
Maximum and minimum.
What can be done in the minimum?
The painter David Hockney, in the Louisiana Channel video “I am a space freak,” tells of the time he spent looking at the Grand Canyon before he painted it. He gave maximum time to look and see. He also gave maximum time, effort, and money to paint it.
The result is a fully realized piece. A Bigger Grand Canyon.
If you have a day to prepare your audition, what kind of work will you realize?
Independent Canadian features are made in twenty, fifteen, or twelve days as are Hallmark and Christmas movies. This is minimal.
As an actor, it’s useful to know whether you’re working under maximum or minimum conditions. Questions that might be bothering you about the quality of your work and your demeanour — glass half empty, glass half full — might be better understood taking time into account.
There’s a culture today of doing things quickly.
Performing your job efficiently is different — like a bricklayer laying bricks with minimum effort, maximum result — and a skill to admire.
But many other areas of human endeavour require time to observe, consider, think, reflect, create. Is the method and atmosphere of work producing quality and excellence? That’s the question.
In the past, one-hour TV dramas took fourteen days to shoot. Today, you’ll shoot them in seven or less. That’s minimum.
Commercials shoot a whole day for one minute of screen time. That’s maximum.
Who is dictating the time you have to do your work?
Lingua.
Tongue in Latin. The word language comes from that root.
Acting in American movies here in Canada is like having your tongue pulled out of your head because you can’t use your native tongue.
Have to have an American accent.
It’s called the Canadian film industry.
More than once, actors here have been humiliated on set because of their accent. It’s quite upsetting.
At the residential schools, the First Nations children were not allowed to speak their language or perform their ceremonies.
English rulers, like Cromwell, forced the Irish to speak English and killed Irish priests for teaching Gaelic — their own language.
A lot of tongues taken out of people’s mouths.
Blockbusters.
Film is a new art form.
What’s a blockbuster?
A block could be a stone; bust, a verb to break; so, breaking a stone. Would that be like cracking the nut?
We often say that when grappling with a problem.
What’s the problem here? Is the block money? Is someone trying to smash money into smithereens?
The discussion isn’t so far off, is it, when the term blockbuster is used and accepted as a kind of an art form. Everyone knows it’s a kind of movie.
Bust feels like a harsh word.
It’s also known that blockbusters are made in Hollywood. An American invention. Big. Smashing something to bits.
The Empire State Building was big. Hiroshima and Nagasaki were blown to bits. Their blocks certainly got busted.
None of these films qualify as blockbusters: The Third Man, 12 Years a Slave, Citizen Kane, The Godfather, Yojimbo, Battleship Potemkin, The Seven Samurai, The Bicycle Thieves, Metropolis, Casablanca, Double Indemnity, The Grey Fox, On the Waterfront, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, The Maltese Falcon, Chinatown, Goin’ Down the Road, M.
The definition according to Vocabulary.com is “a Hollywood movie that’s made with a large budget and big stars. A true blockbuster is extremely popular and brings in a lot of money. Typically, a blockbuster is a fabulous summer movie that audiences line up to see the first weekend it’s released.” (My emphasis.)
There’s you the actor — and there’s the blockbuster.
Sounds like a blockbuster ain’t no film.
NFB, CBC . . .
The National Film Board of Canada was founded in 1939 “to produce and distribute and to promote the production and distribution of films designed to interpret Canada to Canadians and to other nations.”
John Grierson was the founding commissioner and had a positive influence on documentary filmmaking in Canada and around the world. His first film, Drifters (1929), the silent depiction of the harsh life of herring fishermen in the North Sea revolutionized the portrayal of working people in the cinema.
After 1945 when the anti-communist hysteria began, Grierson’s name and reputation were slandered and maligned, and he was forced out of the NFB.
During the 1940s and early 1950s, the NFB employed “travelling projectionists” who toured the country, bringing films and public discussions to rural communities.
The NFB has won more than five thousand awards, including a heap of Oscars, Golden Bears, and Palmes d’Or. Norman McLaren was a ground-breaking animation filmmaker and won numerous awards for his films.
The NFB studio opened in 1956 in Montreal and was a state-of-the-art film production studio — the first of its kind in Canada. In 2019, the studio was closed.
Cutbacks to production began in 1965, and in 1980 film production was cut completely.
The CBC was founded in 1936 to serve as the national public broadcaster for both radio and television.
The network produced hundreds of shows and all were made in-house. For example, the TV series King of Kensington was shot in the CBC studios and produced by CBC staff. Today, Kim’s Convenience, which aired on CBC, was filmed at Showline Studios and produced by Thunderbird Films.
The current Toronto studios opened in 1993 at a cost of $375 million and today only a third of the building is occupied by CBC. Vancouver’s building was built in 1975.
In 1984, 1,100 jobs were cut and at that time there were 12,000 employees, and as of 2019, there are 7,500 employees.
In 2006, the English TV design department was closed, and gone are the skilled craftspeople; the carpentry, paint, metal, and special effects shops; and the unique wardrobe and prop departments.
In Montreal, at the announcement of the closing of the wardrobe department, a group of 400 artists and cultural workers signed a letter protesting the closing: “We the artists and cultural workers from the theatre community, we who in the daily practice of our art bring new and classic characters to life on stage, we who dress our actors in costumes which serve to complete the very dimension of the characters they play, we in the theatrical community, who regularly use the CBC wardrobe department, are outraged by the announcement of its closing.”
Radio drama studios closed in 2012. CBC museum closed in 2017. Canada now ranks 16th out of 18 industrial countries in funding for national broadcasting.
Speaking in the House of Commons on May 18, 1932, Prime Minister R. B. Bennett, leader of the Conservative Party said: “First of all,” he said, “this country must be assured of complete Canadian control of broadcasting from Canadian sources, free from foreign interference or influence. Without such control radio broadcasting can never become a great agency for the communications of matters of national concern and for the diffusion of national thought and ideals, and without such control it can never be the agency by which national consciousness may be fostered and sustained and national unity still further strengthened.”
What new forms for our national broadcasting needs will we develop in these changing and difficult times?
Razzle.
Do you get dazzled by the razzle?
The Americans have been dazzling Canadians for a very long time. Economic, political, military, — and cultural razzle.
You’re an actor and you’ve played some wonderful roles on TV series, in independent films, and in the theatre, so try to balance that worth with the worth of a role in a big American production.
American features shooting in Canada offer virtually nothing but small roles to local actors.
Yet the fanfare and hoopla — the razzle — prior to production paints a different and glittering picture. See if it diverts you.
The issue is not to feel second-class.
Note your worth based on the roles you’ve played, your life’s experience, and being human.
To believe that everything in America is better is to put you and your work down. Projects of excellence abound throughout the world, not just in Hollywood.
The exciting idea of “acting with” or “being directed by” a Hollywood name is often deflated by the reality on set where, with your small role, you actually have very little collaboration.
Sometimes it’s even humiliating.
Like the time my colleagues were working with the director Richard Donner and instead of using the two Canadian actors’ names while giving direction he shouted, “Get the two Canadians to enter quicker!”
Yes, it is a wonderful mark in your career to be in an Academy Award–winning movie, but it’s not the be all and end all.
It’s your space. Take your place.
Millionaires.
Do you know any millionaires in the movie business?
Of course, we all know that Ellen Pompeo earned $20 million per year and Scarlett Johansson, George Clooney, Angelina Jolie and Dwayne Johnson are millionaires.
And the presidents of Netflix, Warner Brothers, CBS, Universal Studios, etc. are millionaires. Multimillionaires. That’s known.
What about the agents and casting directors you work with? How would you find out how much money they make?
Of course, they know exactly how much you make. To the penny.
There’s lots of money in the movie business and you know who does the work to make movies, so it might be interesting to know who makes most of the money.
Your colleagues usually don’t want to discuss their fees, even though the union has a minimum daily rate laid out in the agreement and most shows pay actors the same rate. IATSE crew workers all know exactly what each other makes as their rates are also set out in their agreements and they’re all paid the same.
On the shows you work on, which producers, directors, showrunners are millionaires? How much do they make? What is the standard rate for a casting director to cast a series?
Are any of your fellow actors millionaires? Writers, production designers, cinematographers you know — can any of them earn millions?
You know exactly how much money you earn, but what about the rest of the people in the industry?
With the minimum wage at $17 an hour, a million bucks is still a lot of money.
Divine right of kings.
In European history, it was asserted that kings derived their authority from God and could not therefore be held accountable for their actions by any earthly authority such as a parliament.
During the War of the Roses, both Henry VI and Edward IV claimed that they ought to be king. They both argued that they were appointed by God to rule England.
Who has the right to know how the movie business works?
Have you ever wondered the budget of the film you’re working on, or if background is all ACTRA or half non-union, or how much the American actor standing next to you is earning, or what tax breaks the producers got from Ontario Creates?
Many of the details that make up the whole of the industry seem to be the private domain of — maybe — producers, casting, agents, and ACTRA.
Does it seem to you that on many questions you’re kept out of the loop?
You, and all of us, have a right as actors and citizens to be able to ask, investigate, learn, and know anything and everything.
Why not?
You might find that certain questions are spoken of in hushed tones and with eyes lowered.
The divine right of kings.
Not really your business.
That’s a disconnect, isn’t it, when you and your colleagues are the ones making the movies.
Working-class actors.
Are there fewer working-class actors today than when I was in drama school in 1972?
Reading the Guardian article by Carole Cadwalladr “Why Working-Class Actors Are a Disappearing Breed” prompted my writing on the question.
Are there fewer movies today showing the life of working-class people?
Cadwalladr writes, “But it’s part of a much bigger picture. Because what has happened in acting and therefore what we see on our screens is intimately connected to what is happening in Britain. Acting, culture, identity, representation and politics are all inextricably entwined. The actors on our screens, the dramas that are commissioned, the way we view ourselves, the politicians we vote for, our ability to empathise with people from other parts of our culture, are all of a piece.”
The question “For whom?” must be asked about TV and movies as well as other areas of life. The production has been made for whom? The themes of Netflix series are for whom? The ideas in blockbusters are whose? The Academy Award–winning movies are for whom?
This is an important question for discussion as most people in the world work.
Anna Leszkiewicz writes in her The New Statesmen article: “Last year, a report revealed that half of Britain’s most successful actors were privately educated. The Sutton Trust found that 42 per cent of Bafta winners over all time were educated independently. 67 per cent of British winners in the best leading actor, actress and director categories at the Oscars attended fee-paying schools — and just seven per cent of British Oscar winners were state educated.”
My class at the National Theatre School of Canada had seven members out of a class of sixteen from working-class families.
What’s your experience?
The time it takes.
You hear people saying, “It takes so long to make a movie.”
Does it?
It’s actually “It takes as long as it takes.”
It’s fine if civilians say it, but watch if you’re saying it.
To say it is to not understand what it is to make a movie. Movie is an abbreviation for moving picture. To take a picture, you need a subject — you, the actor — and you need light and a camera. To get the lighting to reflect what they want to say in the scene takes time. Then the moving camera part comes in and that takes time. The blocking, the acting, stunts, etc.
It takes time.
As an actor, learn what it takes to make a movie.
You need your time to be ready and so do all the other departments. Each taking their place; each taking their space. Collectively.
Once you accept and assimilate the process, then you free yourself to do your acting. If you don’t, it’s like putting a square peg in a round hole. You can misspend your energy being frustrated at waiting.
When you, the individual, join the collective making the movie, a lot of that frustration goes away.
You become part of the time it takes.
The toll.
Learn to recognize and appreciate the toll it takes on you being an actor.
Certain roles are demanding emotionally — Desdemona — and they can have a real effect on you.
A regular role on a series, a long-running play, or a lead in a feature all have their own cost. Don’t underestimate this high-level work.
The competitive nature of the business side also takes its toll. Every actor talks about the highs and lows, but to really be aware of those dangers is critical to keep living and working in the healthiest possible way.
Life for every working person takes its toll. For you as an actor, that toll is particular.
To be an actor, you have to be sensitive.
Learn what the toll is, and take pains to develop habits that keep you in good stead.
