2 weeks ago I was at a callback for a commercial and I waited as they brought in girl after girl before me, even though I had come in before them, and my call time was earlier. I waited and watched as one girl came out, then they chased her down the street, and asked her to come in and read for another part, right when I was set to go in. They did that again for another girl. I listened as the casting assistant came out with the girl and stood and shot the breeze, exchanged contact info, and generally made best friends with her after her audition. All while I was waiting to go in.
Finally he looks up and acknowledges me and has me come in, an hour after I’d arrived. Clients were in the room, as well as the director, as is usual with a lot of commercial callbacks. They laughed and liked what I did with the first take, then I received around 6 redirects, doing it slightly different each time. They thanked me for my time, and I walked to the car a little miffed at the wait, how I didn’t “feel” the audition, and how clearly those other girls who were lavished with attention were the choices. It didn’t help that a fedex truck driver felt it necessary to pull up next to me and whistle while I walked to my car.
Imagine my surprise when, a few days later, I found I booked the job and would be flying to Seattle 3 days later. I started to feel pretty good about my abilities, assuming that I was so good in the room that I beat out even those other girls, who were clearly the favorites. I was convinced that I had earned the job until sitting at drinks with the rest of the cast it was revealed that one of the actors was not an actor at all, but a writer, and another it was his first commercial to ever book. <Cue sad trombone> It was obvious to me that we were not the cream of the crop, we just happened to strike a chord with the director and clients. I had not earned this job.
The day of the shoot I had spent the drive to set memorizing my 6 lines. It was rather easy to just show up, and assume the work was done back when I auditioned and won them over. After my 45 minutes of shooting was complete, I pondered the work I had just done. It was not my best work, it wasn’t my most prepared work, and I felt I could’ve done a lot more. If I had spent the night before running my lines and figuring out different takes. If I had worked my expressions and variety of looks. But I didn’t. And I’m regretful about that.
Everything you do is an expression of your art. And if just getting the job is the only excellence you strive for, you’re missing a vital component of excellence. I want to be the actor that exceeds everyone’s expectations. I want them to say “we knew we liked her in the room, but wow! She’s even better than we hoped for.” Because in the end, assuming you’re entitled to a job because you beat out everyone else only sets you up for laziness and mediocrity. And that’s not what I want to be known for on a set.
thethriftyactor 