So it’s now official. I am living the dream. After 39 years on this planet, mostly umming and arring over what to do when I grow up, I’m finally working towards a career I believe in and love in equal measure. I’m acting. Well, I say “I’m acting”, the reality of course is more complicated and far less glamorous than it first appears. Like 99% of actors around the globe I’m also relying on a day job to pays the bills. The focus however, is preparing oneself for the next audition… and the next, and the next one after that. It’s a seemingly never-ending round of train journeys and auditions. And along with the auditions of course, goes the almost obligatory emotional rollercoaster. In fact it’s not unlike the Grand National Rollercoaster in Blackpool, that I took my two boys on last weekend. You’re competing with a whole bunch of other people in an event that’s been going on since time began – and often in the rain.
Ok so maybe it’s not that alike but there are some similarities. There are the pre-ride nerves, the anticipation and the jostling for position followed by two minutes of heart thumping, stomach churning, thrills, before finding yourself unceremoniously dumped on the other side of the turnstiles wondering what on earth just happened. I’m being flippant of course but there is some element of truth in it all. Like most white knuckle rides, auditions are generally very, very short (I’ve travelled all day for a five minute audition and not got it) and it’s extremely hard, when faced with that possibility, not to become somewhat disillusioned over time. The ability to stick at it of course is what separates the winners from the ‘also ran’s’ and, determined to end up the former, I shall keep on going for as long as I can draw breath. A very wise man almost certainly once said: “Don’t let the length of the queue, put you off taking the ride”… or something similar.
I had two very interesting auditions in London quite recently and they couldn’t have been more different. The first one was for an advert. We were all ushered in, in pairs, asked to perform for the camera, and then shown the door. There was no dialog, the actors being expected to convey everything through facial expressions alone – “Not too over the top now luvies, keep it natural but just exaggerate it enough to notice”. It was horrible; truly awful and I was glad to leave. The second audition was for a television presenter, and it couldn’t have been more different. It felt like a great audition, rattling off a few paragraphs of memorized dialog followed by a short mock interview. I felt confident and in charge of the proceedings and I received some very positive feedback from the casting director. I left on a cushion of air.
So then, two, very contrasting, auditions. Both were pretty short, both were huge emotional rollercoaster’s and ultimately both had the same outcome; “don’t call us, we’ll call you”. Disappointing certainly, but I did learn something from them - once you find yourself dumped on the other side of the turnstiles, it’s a good idea to forget that ride and head off in search of the next one. It might just be better.
Ok so maybe it’s not that alike but there are some similarities. There are the pre-ride nerves, the anticipation and the jostling for position followed by two minutes of heart thumping, stomach churning, thrills, before finding yourself unceremoniously dumped on the other side of the turnstiles wondering what on earth just happened. I’m being flippant of course but there is some element of truth in it all. Like most white knuckle rides, auditions are generally very, very short (I’ve travelled all day for a five minute audition and not got it) and it’s extremely hard, when faced with that possibility, not to become somewhat disillusioned over time. The ability to stick at it of course is what separates the winners from the ‘also ran’s’ and, determined to end up the former, I shall keep on going for as long as I can draw breath. A very wise man almost certainly once said: “Don’t let the length of the queue, put you off taking the ride”… or something similar.
I had two very interesting auditions in London quite recently and they couldn’t have been more different. The first one was for an advert. We were all ushered in, in pairs, asked to perform for the camera, and then shown the door. There was no dialog, the actors being expected to convey everything through facial expressions alone – “Not too over the top now luvies, keep it natural but just exaggerate it enough to notice”. It was horrible; truly awful and I was glad to leave. The second audition was for a television presenter, and it couldn’t have been more different. It felt like a great audition, rattling off a few paragraphs of memorized dialog followed by a short mock interview. I felt confident and in charge of the proceedings and I received some very positive feedback from the casting director. I left on a cushion of air.
So then, two, very contrasting, auditions. Both were pretty short, both were huge emotional rollercoaster’s and ultimately both had the same outcome; “don’t call us, we’ll call you”. Disappointing certainly, but I did learn something from them - once you find yourself dumped on the other side of the turnstiles, it’s a good idea to forget that ride and head off in search of the next one. It might just be better.
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