Drew Lanning

Today I had an audition, a fairly easy one that was right up my alley. I was to wear a suit and just stand up and talk a lot, a skill-set that represents 99% of the jobs I’ve been booking this year.

The problem came with the talking part: see, for some reason I had convinced myself that there were no lines involved in this audition. Thinking on it now I think I got it mixed up with another casting call for the same day, one to which I was not invited. Anyway, I walked in and immediately noticed sides on the table. No problem, I thought, I’ll just fill out the forms and then get to work on the dialogue.

The problem there was that I had arrived on time to the audition, which means that I was essentially late. I didn’t have enough time to fill out my forms and properly prepare for the dialogue, because no sooner had I gotten a headshot out of my bag than I was called in to audition. I couldn’t even send someone else in ahead of me, I was the only schlub there.

So I went in, and luckily the script was on a teleprompter. It was, unfortunately, not the script for which I had minimally prepared (all of a quick glance in the waiting room); so I stumbled through it, choked on my words, swallowed syllables. I basically blew it.

Luckily I’m really good at what I do and even when I blow it, I come off fairly well. The director offered some direction and gave me another go-round. I composed myself inwardly, asked to have the teleprompter slowed down, then did it again like a pro. It was nothing like nailing it the moment you walk through the door, but at least I recovered somewhat gracefully.

Th real problem in all of this debacle is that I’m entirely too lazy a person and have never put in the right amount of work to achieve the goal that I’m after. It takes a lot of effort for me to do the bare minimum; it’s just that I’m generally so good at what most people perceive as the bare minimum that it looks like I’m doing a really great job.

So, to recap your audition checklist:

• On time means ten minutes early.
• Know your lines… the correct lines.
• Read the casting notice or email from your agent carefully, so you know what you’re walking into before you walk in.
• Review everything once more before you enter the waiting room.
• Don’t be sitting outside the casting room like a dunce if you’re not ready to go in and nail it. Better to be a few minutes late than on time and unprepared.

I recently went to Los Angeles to help cast for an upcoming project, in which I am already cast. I was technically there in my capacity as “host”, but due to my long relationship with the producers and my constant interaction with the talent, I was included in every casting discussion from start to finish. Here is what I can tell you that you, a fellow actor or performer, need to know,

Some of this stuff you know already, or at least you have no excuse not to know. Some is stuff your acting teachers have been telling you for years, and the rest is probably just common sense.

• Look like your headshot. Seriously people, this is rule #1 and just common sense. If you don’t resemble your headshot then just don’t show up. We’ll never be able to remember who you are later when we’re trying to work out callbacks, and every time we do mention you it will be prefaced with “but they didn’t even look like their picture.” No excuses, just do it.
• I know it’s an audition and you’re trying to get noticed, but just be yourself. If you’re putting on an act we can usually tell and we’ll just be distracted wondering who you really are. You need to perform and you need to stand out, but you don’t need to completely transform your personality.
• The casting directors and producers are not evil; they just have a tough job and are really, really tired. Even if the people for whom you’re auditioning aren’t as awesome as we were, that doesn’t mean they’re jerks.  Well, maybe they are jerks, but it’s still not directed at you intentionally. They have way too many people to see and not enough time to sleep and eat throughout the day.
• If you’re not cast, it’s not really about you. It’s weird to say “it’s not personal” when you are sent home but the truth is that you could actually be the best actor there, but there are so many other variables that the casting director and producer are considering that raw talent is only a small part.  I’m not just talking about looks either, although that is a big part of it. Charisma, personality, wit, and how you interact with those around you play a huge role beyond just how well you interpret the script or perform in the improv games. People like to work with people that they like.
• Show up, and not just physically. Commit yourself to the audition constantly, or at least be aware of when you are being watched. You have no idea that the guy running the camera or signing people in isn’t actually one of the producers and founders of the production company. Is it really that hard to participate in a conversation, or stop texting for fifteen minutes while you wait to go in?
• Also, be nice to everyone. Again, the person taking out the garbage could actually be on the production team and have a major voice in whether or not you get cast. The decisions are not being made solely on what goes in the casting room and in front of a camera.
• Commit yourself to what you are asked to do in the audition. It may be something you’re horrible at, but what is being judged is not necessarily how well you do a task but how willing you are to just jump in and have fun.
• Be persistent. I hesitate to mention this because it can go too far, but I’ll give you an example. One woman showed up late on the second day of auditions, and was turned away. We simply had too many people and had to leave the space on time. This woman found myself and a cameraman (who was also a producer) out back and asked if we could audition her. We really didn’t want to but we liked her look, so let her horn in on the next group of people (we had to resort to grouping them, there were just so many). Long story short, this woman is in the final cut of people selected to be sent to the client, and is everyone’s top pick to get the job. She could definitely have helped herself out by showing up earlier, but she asked us politely and directly if we could get her on camera. She did what she had to do to get the job.

That should about do it for now kids. One more little thing I’d like to add is something that I was talking about with my agent last week. While getting the job is definitely the goal, and the audition is a means to that end, how would it change your attitude if you thought of the audition as the end in itself? Or the callback? Most of the jobs that I and my wife have ever booked are the ones that we, quite frankly, just didn’t really care about one way or the other. We showed up, did the best we could do, and never gave it another thought. Your job as an actor is to act, and that actually means that auditions are an acting job the same as any other.

Above all else simply show up on time, look like your headshot, be yourself, and have fun. And don’t be an ass to the person taking out the garbage.

Merlin Mann has given me yet another useful tool to figure out what to do in any given scene, except he was talking about GTD methodology.

Read this post, and see how well it applies to understanding your character’s motivation.

This was also posted today on Break A Leg.

As a beginning actor years ago in San Francisco, I would scour several trade magazines, and eventually had memberships with a few websites once those became fashionable. I would mail, MAIL, headshots and resumes by the handful on a weekly basis, just trying to book a part in a student film or independent production.

This was before YouTube mind you, before digital video, before HD. Students shot on film or basically nothing, and independent filmmaking, while relatively inexpensive, still had a minimum buy-in of a couple thousand dollars for film stock and processing alone, not to mention renting an editing bay at some production house once the film was in the can.

I eventually stopped doing this, all of this running around like a maniac and trying to get work. First of all, it got very very exhausting to be constantly seeking the next job. You also never had any idea who you would be working with and whether or not they would have any idea what they were doing or could contribute anything of value to your career, such as it was.

The point where I was consistenly more knowledgeable about not just my role on set but everybody else’s was the point where I finally decided enough was enough, and just stopped blindly submitting to every amateur and student film I came across. At some point in your career, even if nobody has heard of you yet, you have to decide to value yourself or no one else will decide it for you. I just don’t have time anymore for student productions or random independent filmmakers off the street.

It sounds snooty and egotistical, but this is the truth: I know I’m the right guy for every job I audition for, but you as a filmmaker are auditioning for me more so than the other way around. Sorry bro.

So fast forward to today. I still do independent stuff (and of course paid professional stuff too), but I don’t go onto sets blindly. I do plays that are written and directed by friends and colleagues that I’ve worked with before or come reccommended by someone whom I’ve worked with. I do independent projects with the same criteria. I met Yuri through another acquaintance while working on a feature film, and our love knows no bounds today.

Break A Leg is a great project to be involved in, not just because it’s well-written and well-produced and has a great cast and crew. It’s fun to do not just because we have a rabid fanbase, figuratively and literally, that treat us like gods walking amongst mortals. No, Break A Leg is one of the greatest things to happen to me as an actor because in a weird, non-paying, still working full-time, and bagel-dog eating sort of way, it offers me job security.

Fuck trade publications and websites. It’s like I’m doing a real TV show we shoot so damn much, and I wouldn’t even have time to do anything else even if I was motivated to do so. So I keep acting, the world is watching, and I don’t have to mail (or email these days) one damn headshot. Ever.

Thanks Yuri!

I’d still love to do a film though. Yuri, go write something.

Stomach Flu starts with a real bang, as in “BANG! The food your son ate in the last three hours is now all over his bed!” It keeps the action humming with a one-two punch of constant, regular vomiting throughout the night that jumps out and grabs you like a vise-grip on your genitals. Stomach Flu unfortunately doesn’t know when to quit, dragging the action out over almost 24 hours, though it packs a few surprises in the last minutes that manage to keep you on your toes.

Let’s bottom-line it:

Action: A+

Pacing: C

Undigested Ham: A+++

Lack of Stomach Fluids: F

Take-Away: If your child has explosive diarrehea, don’t take him to Gymboree, asshole!