Advice for Beginning Actors

I received an email from a mother asking for advice for her 18yo son who is about to embark on an acting career. Here is my response:

I might not be the best person to ask as I'm no longer pursuing acting as a career, and a tenet I try to follow is: only take advice from people who already have what you want or who have been where you're planning to go. That said:

1. Figure out why you want to act, and stay true to that. If you want to act because it's fun - then be wary of doing anything that robs you of that joy.
2. Develop a skill other than acting that you can use to pay the bills through flexible part-time employment. This is critical to self-esteem, and does not hem in your liberty as you might suspect but actually frees you to pursue your dream. Harrison Ford was one heck of a carpenter and Jeremy Renner flips houses. I made a living doing animation, education consulting, and tech support - all incredibly flexible, and paid well enough that my "day jobs" never took up more than 20hrs a week.
3. Develop fiscal responsibility *now* - put together an emergency fund (3-6mo living expenses), contribute 10%+ of all of your income to a retirement account - if you think being a starving artist is tough, try being a starving septuagenarian with no job prospects. Again, this will free you to pursue your acting career. Money worries are all consuming and will totally sap energies you would otherwise be directing to your career. Also, getting rich doesn't solve money problems it magnifies them; so get your head on straight now.
4. Seek out mentors personally (sorry Mom) and listen to them. Have an acting hero? Write them a letter telling them what you most respect about them, and ask them a single specific question.
5. Seek out like-minded artists: find other actors, directors, writers. Spend time with them. At all costs avoid: cynical types with no drive. You won't notice it as it happens, but they will bring you down. You are the average of your five closest friends. Once you have this network of artists, help them in any way you can without compromising yourself.
6. Spend a year in one of the big markets, if you're 18 and can pass for younger you are very castable. Find out what you don't know; it'll be a lot. Then GO TO COLLEGE and ask questions, lots of them. If you can stand it, get a minor or second degree that will help you out with that side-job. After that, go back to one of the big markets and try again.
7. Self-produce. There is no one who cares enough about your success to do the work for you; you have to make your own opportunities. It's great that you want to write and make comics. Story -> comic -> screenplay is one of the primary movie generation pathways these days.
8. Work as an actor whenever you can. You have a lot to learn. Even crappy student productions will teach you patience and humility - these are important skills. Background work is helpful in that it demystifies being on-set. Do it long enough to work out the jitters but leave before the cynicism of the other background actors poisons you.
9. Do not ever allow someone to belittle you, you are a human being with inherent worth.
10. Be a professional. Show up early (being late once is enough to kill your career's momentum). Be prepared. Do your work. Don't be a distraction.
11. Be respectful. There is not a person on set who cannot teach you something if you actually take the time to listen. Crew members love film/theater more than you could ever hope to - learn their names, learn about their lives, and give them the thanks they deserve.
12. Find an accountability buddy. I have a friend I call once a week for a career strategy session. We set goals and provide accountability. We text each other every single day to ensure we're on track. This person cannot be a flake. They must be driven and you must respect them, otherwise the system doesn't work. When you are only responsible to yourself, you won't accomplish much. You can move mountains if you believe that just one other person cares whether you do it or not.
13. There is no shortage of people happy to separate a fool from his money. If someone is promising you a silver bullet that will land you an agent, get you a job, or a make you a star: they are liars and cheats (even if they don't realize it); walk quickly in the other direction. Listen to the advice of people who have achieved what you want to, the good ones are happy to give it for free.
14. See plays, watch movies, get out of your house/apartment. Ain't nothin' gonna happen unless you go out in the world and interact with people.
15. An acting career is a marathon, not a sprint. There will be times where your light shines brightly, and others where your agent seems to be avoiding your calls. Do those things that feed your artist and keep you excited about the craft. Do readings with friends, stage impromptu shows in your living room, shoot stupid web videos. Know that things will get better.
16. As an actor you are a small business (folks like Will Smith are their own private industries) - dedicate office hours to the business end of your career. Every day M-F you should be spending 30+min on marketing and career strategy. This is on top of any work you're putting into your craft (and you should be doing that regularly too).
17. Live your life. You'll spend years waiting for your big break and for your life to "finally begin". Don't wait. Take that vacation (that you've saved for), do exciting things, learn as much as you possibly can about the world and its inhabitants. Do something that scares you (even if it's just saying hello to that cute girl/guy) every day.

If you've found this helpful, please do me a favor and pay it forward. My buddy JP is producing a one man show (see #5, #7, #8, #15) and is raising funds so that he can share it with audiences across the country. You can contribute to his kickstarter campaign (no amount is too small) here: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/johnpaulkarliak/making-mamas-proud-the-2011-donna-madonna-tour

Taking Risks in Life

I read a great profile on Jeremy Renner in "Men's Health" of all places. Here's an excerpt:

"If you don't know who you are, how the hell are you going to be able to...?" Renner leaves the thought unfinished, but it would be easy to fill in the blank with a million possibilities, most of them more profound than becoming a movie star. "So I made a very conscious decision to be fearless, to live a life of fear-freeness. I decided to do something every day I was afraid of." Like?

"I swam with sharks," he says, recounting a scuba trip off California's southern coast. "I was terrified of sharks and I'm still terrified of sharks, but at least I was taking action--and not being squelched by something I don't know about."

It's pretty brilliant strategy for becoming a better actor if you ask me, although apparently the idea is nothing new:

Do one thing every day that scares you.

-Eleanor Roosevelt

It seems, that if one wants to play a character on the edge of madness, you must expand your threshold for risk. So I have unofficially undertaken the project of consciously doing things that scare me. I'll be cataloging this risk taking under the "Something Scary" tag.

How To Research a Part

As homework for my class at Margie Haber Studio, I was just given a 4-page scene from the pilot episode of a TV show set in the world of the FBI. My teacher, then asked the class how we planned to prepare. "Boil a lot of water, drink a lot of tea, and eventually get down to work?" I offered. She was not impressed. Instead, she offered up these ideas for learning what is involved in living the life of an FBI agent:

• Read a book on the FBI
• Read a crime blotter ( http://www.crimeblotter.org/map/ )
• Interrogate someone, about anything. "It's my understanding this market stocks papayas. Yet, I don't see any papayas."
• Investigate something. Try and put the pieces of a mystery together.
• Call your local FBI bureau, tell them you're preparing for a role, and ask if they have any PR people or agents who would be willing to answer your questions.

Now this may seem a little preposterous, but I don't think I've ever done preparation for a role in this way before. I tend to just read the script a lot and build up a world imaginatively. Which, now that I think about it, seems like a pretty good way to create a performance that's not grounded in reality.

Whenever I get despondent about acting as a career choice, I'm usually able to re-motivate myself with the promise that acting is a way to experience all that life has to offer. I can be a policeman one day, a fireman the next, a schoolteacher, a doctor, a recluse, a roustabout - basically I'm paid to explore all of my childhood fantasies and I'm never forced to give up one in order to be another (forgot to mention: Astronaut!). But the fact of the matter is, it's been a hollow promise. I really haven't done much in the way of really exploring those other lives.

So my challenge to myself, and to other actors out there, is to: dare to live the life of the character.

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So what is it like to be an FBI agent?
Some preliminary investigation (one made-for-tv documentary and some web searching) on what's involved in being an agent has turned up:

• To be an FBI agent, you need a 4year degree and at least 3 years professional experience.
• Agents are haunted by unsolved cases for basically their entire lives.
• Agents undergo extensive training that simulates emergencies just in case one ever occurs, sometime you'll simulate something for years before you actually encounter it.
• Agents work incredibly long hours, get little vacation time, and are paid government wages.
• Working for the FBI gives most agents an incredible sense of purpose; your work has meaning. (This is the bit I'm most excited about playing)
• There is an acceptance that there will be another terrorist attack, and there is an accute fear that they won't have done all they can to prevent it.
• Agents often have to be hyper-vigilant in situations where nothing bad ever actually happens nor was going to happen (putting together security plans for big sports matches, etc).
• Working as an FBI agent often involves less action than working as a regional police officer, but it offers the promise of working on some of the largest and most important cases in the States.
• You might get the opportunity to work in beautiful foreign locales.

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Oh, and Creation #23 was a cold-reading from an episode of Law & Order. I haven't acted across from someone else in about a month, so once I got through the fear and anxiety of being rusty, it felt really good to be back in the swing of things.

Acting with your full self

How is it non-actors can often turn in more interesting film/tv performances than trained actors? Simply because they have no choice but to be a complete human being: themselves.

Actors get so tripped up in playing a character and a situation that they only bring a limited part of themselves to a role and ignore what is actually happening in favor of what they think should be happening.

If you are auditioning for the part of a beat detective it's very tempting to try and recreate what you think a TV cop should be. You act tough, become humorless, and and lose about 80% of your capacity for empathy. What this fails to acknowledge is: if you wanted to be a cop in real life, you probably could have been.

There are all sorts of personalities in every profession. Lead with the part of yourself the role calls for, but don't forget that the other parts of you still exist and should be present in your work

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Also I want to plug Margie Haber Studio. I just finished their month-long intermediate cold-reading intensive and I am feeling so much more confident in my work. The around the world project taught me how to stop acting, but it wasn't until I took this workshop that I had permission to be human again. I can't recommend it highly enough.

3 Years in Los Angeles: Should I Stay or Should I Go Now?

Before I moved to LA I asked every SF actor I knew who had attempted the "LA thing" for their advice. There seemed to be a general consensus that I was unlikely to see any traction until I'd been in LA at least three years. With that in mind, and knowing I'm just the sort of "cryin' ass little bitch" who would leave after just one year, I made a commitment to myself:

No matter how bad it gets. No matter how much I hate it. I have to stay in LA at least 3 years.

Today, August 1st 2010, marks my 3-year anniversary with the City of Angels. The question is: should I stay, or should I go?

To help myself answer that question, I have taken myself out on a date. I've imagined this date many times since arriving in LA. I imagined white table cloths, candles, fine silver, maybe a glass of wine or some sipping scotch. I would ruminate, then masticate, then ruminate some more. I would scratch my chin, and say "Hmmm..." in the delightful manner of esteemed intellectuals. I would order dessert and coffee. I would finish my last bite of tiramisu, sip my last sip, tip generously, and as I stood I would drop my napkin on the table. At the moment of impact, extraneous thought would leave my mind and all that would remain would be a stunning sense of clarity about acting, life, the universe, and everything.

That was the fantasy, here's the reality: My date is taking place in a Starbucks, not a fine Italian restaurant. I've sipped my last sip - through a green straw. Boy oh boy is real life different from the movies.

There has been no Siddhartha-style burst of enlightenment. Instead I've got an empty plastic cup, a tongue numb from chewing ice, and a mind just as muddled as the day before. Yet, nonetheless, I have reached a conclusion:

I'm staying in LA, and I'm staying in the acting game.

Thanks to all of my readers for keeping me company on this journey.

The Key To Productivity: Hate Your Work

I've only got 3 months until my August 1st, 2010 acting in Los Angeles "deadline". Realizing this, I entered a panic about what I have be doing with my time, and how I can maximize my remaining 3 months. I called up an old friend and lamented my slackerdom, begging for an explanation of how she avoids the siren song of the internet and instead burns the candle at both ends for months at a stretch. I've taken some liberties and translated her response into a credo of sorts:

Play your inner critic on full-blast. Allow yourself to believe that you're not good enough, that you're not doing enough, that you're falling behind. Live in a constant state of terror that everything you are doing will be laughed at and denigrated unless you work harder.

Given her laundry list of accomplishments, I knew it was an effective technique. But it was upsetting to think a person would do that to themselves. I didn't know if had it in me to live that way for the next 3 months.

So, for a different perspective, I called my productivity buddy Ilana and whined about my looming deadline and lack of work ethic. She cautioned me, saying "You can't set deadlines for success in an acting career, you don't deal those cards." To which I replied, "I know, I just don't feel like I'm working hard enough, and what I'm doing isn't good enough, I'm only:

• Attending weekly classes with Richard Seyd.
• Attending bi-monthly workshops at The Winner's Circle.
• Keeping up my improv chops at bi-monthly Groundlings classes.
• Going to 2+ Casting Director workshops each month.
• Co-Producing and Directing a short film that shoots in one week.
• Filming scenes from Donovan And The Vast Ancient Conspiracy.
• Rehearsing for and acting in a staged reading of a new play.
• Meeting bi-weekly for 3+hrs to write a screenplay for a feature film with my buddy Zak.
• Writing comedic monologues.
• Taking weekly voice lessons.
• Spending 30min/day 5 days a wk on craft (lines, cold reading practice, etc).
• Spending 30min/day 5 days a wk on marketing (mailers, thank you cards, submissions)."

And then I thought: Wait... that's actually a lot.

And then painfully I realized: That incredibly self-critical way of being that I wouldn't wish upon anyone... apparently I'm already living it, and have been for some time. I had no sense of how much I was doing because I was so good at telling myself it wasn't enough.

Self-criticism is a dangerously effective motivational tool, it can drive us to do superhuman amounts of work at our highest standard. However, it comes at a price: no matter how much we do, no matter how good our work, we'll never be able to fully appreciate our accomplishments; least of all while we're working towards them.

I'm Performing Tonight At The Groundlings! (Mon March 1st, 2010)

After two years of classes at The Groundlings, I'm finally performing on their main stage. I had my first performance last month, which went incredibly well. Now, based on a history of past success, I feel it's time to invite folks to come see me work.

It's a 90min all-improv show with hilarious upper level Groundlings students. I normally cringe at the prospect of attending a friend's improv show, but I assure you that the folks I'm working with are incredibly talented and funny.

Tickets are $6.50 and come with a free bottomless glass of wine.

Please come!

Show Information:

This month's show features performances by an all new cast of current upper-level Groundlingsstudents and directed by Kevin Kirkpatrick.

Student Showcases always bring in a massive crowd, so make sure you buy your tickets in advance!

Contact the Box Office at 323-934-4747 x37, or online at www.groundlings.com

Monday, March 1st at 8pm

Cast:

Andy Bray

Nate Clark

Phillip Daniel

Allison Dunbar

Christopher Eckert

Anderson Edwards

Conor Fetting-Smith

Samantha Roy

Adam Harrington

Donovan Keith

Mike Primiano

Sarah Wolter

Tickets are $6.50 and available NOW at the Box Office, or online at www.groundlings.com.

Life Experience vs Acting Class

I've often said that a person who wants to be an actor would be better served by taking a cooking class than taking an acting class. Not because acting classes aren't valuable, but because increasing the breadth and depth of your life experience will have a much greater impact on the quality of your work than learning any particular technique. The difference in my work before and after my trip around the world is stupidly obvious. Good acting is less an invention from thin air than it is a reshuffling of self. Depending on the role: you play up certain parts of your personality and experience and you sublimate others. The more that's happened to you, the more you've felt, the more of yourself you've used to get through life, the greater your palette.

If any of what I've just written holds water, after this week is over I'm going to be a motherfucking artistic genius.

One of my great personal role models died earlier this week. She was a beautiful, kind, caring, and giving woman. The world is a little darker without her.

Two days later I was party to a decision making process that sent an 18 year old kid (and murderer) to prison for the rest of his life. If he's lucky he'll be 70 when he next tastes freedom. Good news: I believe the system can work. Bad news: We might have failed as a society.

Oh, and I learned to make latkes.

No doubt, when I someday play Hamlet, audiences will be riveted by my performance. Not because of my brilliant descent into madness, but because at some level they'll sense: at any moment this goy could start grating and frying potatoes. Oh vey!

Near Panic Attack Over Sitting Up Straight - Really? REALLY?

A few weeks ago I nearly had a panic attack during acting class because I was asked to sit up straight. Ok, it was a little more complicated than that, but somaticaly good posture is all that was requested.

Why was it so upsetting? What did that sitting up business represent?

Many of the introductory games in improv classes deal with status. My favorite involves the ultimate status competition: The High School Reunion. Everyone is dealt a card which sight unseen they place facing out on their foreheads. The players then begin to interact with each other based on the face value of the cards they see on other folks foreheads. Aces attract large crowds of admirers, while 2's and 3's end up as wall flowers along the periphery. Not unlike life.

From an audience perspective the most fun occurs when a character perceives their status to be significantly higher or lower than what is specified on their card. They move through life in a state of confusion, no one behaves in the manner they expect.

At some point in my life, I decided that the best way to attract women was to have a fantastic set of neuroses and insecurities. Women want projects and gosh darnit I was going to be a fixer upper. It seemed to work well for Woodie Allen in his films, so how could it go wrong for me? In my mind's eye I'm a 35ish, underweight, balding, funny-looking Jewish guy with poor eye-sight. In that improv game, I'm a 3 or a 4 of clubs taking cheap shots at the prom king from the sidelines.

I go through a lot of my life as that man, with all the emotional walls, bad posture, self-deprecating jokes, and accompanying existential crises. I even managed to attract a number of fantastic girlfriends (all of whom needed glasses and I imagine resented my glasses envy) - so the plan can't be wholly flawed.

So why a panic attack about sitting up straight? Asking me to sit up straight was asking me to look at the card on my forehead and live up to it. I was being asked to own all six feet of my height, all 20/20 of my vision, and worst of all - 100% of my opinions. As a self-perceived slouching outsider, it was easy - you can say anything you want without fear of conflict if your opinion isn't worth anything.

For better or worse the card I've been dealt lands somewhere closer to an Ace than a Deuce. That's what the camera sees, that's what casting sees, and that's what I'll be asked to play. It's about time I sat up straight and played my hand.

I Finally Passed Groundlings Level II!

I hadn't failed a class since my wannabe stoner phase in middle school. Then I enrolled in Groundlings Level II. I first took it with Kevin Kirkpatrick and was asked to repeat it. Then I took it with Karen Maruyama, and she asked me to repeat it again. 13 weeks ago, I enrolled in Groundlings Level II for a third time, again with Karen.

I am a person who has little tolerance for failure. I'm the worst version of myself when I'm in a situation where I am being asked to do something I don't know how to do. I get very easily frustrated, I loudly crack bad jokes (yes louder and less funny than usual), I pout, and I get short with other people.

If stuck in an uncomfortable situation for a long period of time, I go catatonic. I shroud myself in a hooded sweatshirt, cross my legs over themselves about 8 times and hug myself while slouching severely to one side - in my efforts to disappear I look more conspicuous than a day-glow Unabomber.

Halfway through the last class of the session I was absolutely convinced I had not passed, that I was destined be a Groundlings washout. I was bound and determined to go cry in the bathroom so that it wouldn't slip out in class, but somehow I managed to keep myself together, and got to see my classmates do some fantastic and hilarious work.

Which is why I'm so happy and surprised to announce: I've finally passed Groundlings Level II!

Thankfully I'm in good company: Jennifer Coolidge had to repeat Groundlings Basic three times before she was advanced to Level II, and she did terrible spacework just like me!

Next project: get ready for Groundlings Lab, we're only allowed one crack at it.

Meta project: start to believe in my abilities as an actor, even if it takes hypnotism or overt self-delusion; this doubt is undermining everything I'm pursuing.

The Three Tiers of Actors Auditioning in Los Angeles

Daniel Gamburg was a guest instructor at Seydways Studios this evening and he laid out what he feels are the three tiers of actors auditioning in LA:

1. Those who are Nervous: These are actors who come into the audition nervous, it's clear in their reads, and things are a little flat or too pushed. These folks don't get an adjustment and they definitely don't get called back.
2. Those who are Competent: These are actors who have been in town a few years, beaten their nerves, and turn in a very competent performance. They nail the requirements of the scene, but don't bring anything particularly charismatic to their work. They may get an adjustment to see if they can up their game in their second take.
3. Those who get Called Back: These are actors who absolutely nail the scene fresh out of the gate. They also bring something unique to their performance that elevates the scene above what is written on the page. So long as they fit the physical requirements of the part, these are the actors who get called back. Any one of them is good enough that you could put them on set and get the performance you need.

These seem like pretty reasonable bins to sort auditions into. The eventual goal is to master your nerves, and know yourself well enough that you are always bringing a Callback quality performance into the audition. If you do this, you experience the freeing effect of knowing that casting decisions will come down to issues beyond your control like height, physical type, and your star meter on IMDB.

The truth of the matter is: TV directors have little desire and no time to direct you. They are looking to cast pre-directed performances that can be lit and shot as quickly as possible. Bringing anything less than broadcast quality work into an audition is a waste of the Casting Director's time and yours. So whatever it takes, whatever it is you need to do to get your work to that level: do it.

The Pesky Nature of Right and Wrong in Art

As a child I took pride in being a good student. I was quiet when the teacher spoke, I raised my hand at every question, and I aced every test. Not so surprisingly, I've discovered there is little advantage to being a teacher's pet in the real world, in fact it can be diametrically opposed to the goal of being an actor.

My first-grade teacher Mr. Rice had a fantastic classroom management tool - a series of pockets and green/yellow/red cards. Each student had their own pocket on the wall, and each pocket had three cards. If you misbehaved in some fashion, the top card was pulled and placed behind the others. If you got a yellow card it was a big deal, and only the worst of the worst, those kids destined to become rapists and murderers, would ever end up with a red card.

Well one day, self-satisfied about something or other, I yammered on too long and I got a yellow card. I was shocked, resentful even. How dare Mr. Rice accuse me of wrong doing?! Surly and confrontational, later in the class I spoke out of turn... repeatedly. Mr. Rice approached the board; my breath stopped. His hand traced over the pockets; my pulse quickened. He eventually landed on mine; something caught in my throat. He grasped the yellow card, lifted it out of its slot, and placed it behind the green card (already in the back). Staring back at me, for all the class to see, was a red card. In that instant my entire world went topsy turvy. I was no longer a good kid, I was a bad kid. I choked back tears.

I spent the rest of class staring forlornly at my coloring book. I hoped that if I seemed sullen enough in my use of finger crayons, Mr. Rice would see the error of his ways and restore me to my position of honor by replacing my green card to the front of its pocket.

Despite my aggressive guilt-tripping tactics, Mr. Rice did not cave. I left that classroom feeling worse than I probably ever had. So bad in fact that as a grown man I still have clear enough visions of that day to write the above description. As childhood traumas go, this is not the stuff of a Dickens novel. That said, what it lacks in narrative punch it makes up for in revelation of character - you see, I'm not so different now from how I was in the first grade.

For whatever reason, I have a profound need to be good/right no matter the context. I constantly look to others for approval and validation. No semi-important decision is made without first consulting 10 friends, 4 strangers, and every how-to article to be found on the internet. But more important than being good/right is not being wrong/bad.

I know that if I just stopped caring about what others might think, and whether what I'm doing is correct, my acting would be much more alive. It would be more spontaneous, it would go places I didn't expect, and it might actually create a genuine unexpected emotional response. The thing is, I don't want to be bad, I don't want to be wrong. It terrifies me. So I play it safe, I make smart soulless acting choices. The work isn't great, but it isn't as bad as it could be, it's a warm puddle of mediocrity.

Very little great art occurs at the intersection of WantingToBeRight Road and TerrifiedOfBeingWrong Massive Fucking Highway. The solution seems simple enough, turn off the part of myself that needs to be good/not-wrong while performing and turn it back on after. The problem is, unless I strip it from myself part-and-parcel it will extend into my acting career as a whole. Bad actors who believe in themselves will be cast long before good actors plagued with self-doubt. The question I'm now asking myself is this:

Do I want this badly enough to work through the fear of being wrong? Or, do I want to stay safe and guarantee I'm never at risk of succeeding? In other words: Do I want to be an actor (and all that entails), or don't I?

The Importance of Preparation (OR The Time I Foolishly Tried To Write A Baseball Metaphor)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zzq5hw5KSXU

Lately I've been coming to the conclusion that the act of performance should be effortless. That it's more a process of letting go and giving in, than pushing your creative vision out into the world. By putting this philosophy into practice, my work has improved significantly. I'm more connected to my scene partners, I'm more emotionally facile, I'm more playful, and I'm more relaxed. However, there is a danger in this.

Assuming that "whatever I do in performance is enough" has lulled me into a sense of complacency in preparation. Where I was once freaking out about learning lines, finding beats and objectives, and otherwise preparing, I now find myself sitting on the couch eating cereal whilst laughing at The Daily Show. So far this hasn't been a significant issue, but I foresee a time when it will be.

It's not difficult to trust in my work the only people who will see it are classmates. But, what happens when you raise the stakes?

Take your average Joe off the street who plays softball on Tuesdays. Ask him to throw a ball from the pitcher's mound to home plate in practice: no problem. Ask him to make the same throw during a game, he'll probably do fine. Now ask him to throw the opening pitch at a major league baseball game with thousands watching: he will inevitably choke; the ball will bounce in the dirt and maybe make it to home plate. Now ask a major league baseball player to make the same throw: he'll do it, it'll be precise, it'll be fast, and to everyone watching it will look effortless.

What's the difference in the amateur and the professional? Preparation and a history of past success.

Effortlessness doesn't come about through lack of effort. It's quite the opposite in fact. Only through regular rigorous preparation do you have reason to trust in your craft in high-pressure situations. In the case of the major league pitcher, it took many years and countless throws to achieve the distance, speed, accuracy, and consistency necessary to make a throw to home plate look effortless.

All of this is to say: Prepare for every part as if your career depended on it. Treat every performance opportunity seriously, no matter the size or budget. Without preparation you'll never develop a craft steady enough to lean on when it really matters. Only through a history of past success will you have the faith you need to let go and play when [insert favorite professional actor/actress] is standing in front of you and the cameras are rolling.

How To Create A Groundlings Character

There are various improv comedy schools in Los Angeles, each one of them with their own particular brand of funny. The Groundlings find their funny in specific and slightly absurd characters. We're talking "I'm gonna need a wig and a lavender pant-suit" characters. It's not enough to have a silly walk, a funny voice, and a facial tic. Anyone can randomly assemble a mishmash of freak characteristics; the difficulty comes when trying to give this character a clear point of view that integrates all of the elements. To help students, they provide the following questionnaire.

Name:

Age:

Hair:

Eyes:

Skin:

Body Type:

Outstanding Physical Characteristic:

Voice Type:

Occupation:

Favorite Food:

Least Favorite Food:

Favorite Color/Texture:

Bad Habits:

Mannerisms:

Idiosyncrasies:

Musical Tastes:

Games:

Religion:

Schooling:

Favorite Book:

Current Reading:

Military Service:

Phobias:

Where From:

Where Now:

Who Do I Live With:

Relatives Living:

Married:

Children:

Love Life:

Greetings:

Pajamas:

Favorite Expression:

Self-Description:

How Do Others See Me?

Hobby:

Talents:

Pets:

Who Do I Confide In:

Something I Can’t Do:

Most Important Person:

Values:

Can’t Live Without:

Favorite Movie/TV:

What Is Funny to Me:

Idolize Who:

What I Want From Others:

Handicaps:

Philosophy of Life:

What’s My Problem:

What Do I need?

What Do I Want?

“When I fall in love, I always…”

Earliest Memory:

Favorite Memory:

Parents:

Two Shoots In Two Days

Starting work at 10am, walking through the warm air, lazing away afternoons, and spending evenings cooking dinner with friends, it can be easy to forget there's a reason I live in Los Angeles beyond the joys of hedonism. This weekend I got the chance to work on two very cool digital video projects, and I was reminded of why it is I came to LA and why that's pretty fantastic.

On Saturday, I got to act in a very funny sketch produced my buddy JP. As instructed, I showed up in 50's attire looking like a Howdy Doody good-ol-boy. I got to play the part of a concerned citizen and was encouraged to improvise various reasons to be upset with my government. Not unlike this woman:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U5oVzbwYWpg

It was great fun, I got to show up, do my bit and go.

On Sunday I worked as a PA on a Butterfinger contest video produced by fellow UCSC film school alum, Jake of Will & Jake: Contest Warriors fame. The day started at 8am which is decidedly earlier than I'm typically inclined to wake. That said, it was a very fun day. I'm not sure to what extent I'm free to discuss the video, but the actors were a joy to watch. Let's just say that some "special skills" listed on an actor's resume are more special and enjoyable to be around than a bad Irish dialect.

As PA I was in charge of driving the talent to location, transporting equipment, applying spirit gum and false eyebrows, tossing butterfingers, and holding reflectors. I enjoyed the shift in perspective that working behind the camera offered. All of the ego stuff that comes with acting fell away, as did the nerves, and I was free to focus on helping the production in general. In fact I was happy to find an outlet for my maternal instincts. "Are you hungry? Here, have some trail mix." "It's bright out. Sunscreen?" "You look hot, would you like some water?"

After working with friends on projects that are silly fun, it's now much easier to understand why Clint Eastwood did all those monkey movies.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HRj_wLGrRJs

Character Is Up For Interpretation - And That's Okay

When I'm preparing a role, I often find myself struggling to make decisions about my character. I'm terrified of making a choice - "what if it's wrong?!" I have a strong need to be right. That need is a holdover from my elementary school days where there always was a correct answer, and by finding it I would be rewarded in gold stars and verbal praise. The days of gold stars are over, the real world is a lot more muddled and what is correct is up for debate and interpretation.

This is intimidating. But if you turn it on its ear, there is something wonderful as well. You can't craft a character that is universally right, abstractly correct. So don't try. Find the skeleton of the character in the text and then apply parts of yourself until a whole person is formed.

Visual artists don't seem to have these same hang-ups. Look at all of these interpretations of characters from "Where The Wild Things Are". They are all quite different, but they also succeed in conveying the essence of the characters while also expressing what is unique about their illustrators:

All of the above images were found at TerribleYellowEyes.com a website dedicated to honoring Maurice Sendak's wonderful characters.

An Actor's Professional Obligation

As an actor your professional obligation is to play your part in such a way that the story is told. The audience is not paying to see you act, they are paying to be told a story. There is no obligation for you to feel anything.

It is okay to play at an emotion instead of feel it. Does it make the experience richer if you are actually feeling what the character is feeling? Yes. But there is no obligation.

Just tell the story folks.

When you remove the pressure of needing to feel, it actually makes it easier for that process to occur.

Are You Ready To Audition?

To provide a counterpoint to my last post (and an uncomfortably intimate view of the debates that rage in my head), let me introduce a harsh check:

Are you an aspiring actor who feels like you should be getting cast more? Have you ever stopped to ask whether you deserve to be cast more? To find out, do the following:

1. Pick out an actor whose career you would like to emulate.
2. Search for their name on IMDB.
3. Go to their earliest entry as an actor.
4. Rent a copy of that film or television episode.
5. Watch it.
6. Ask yourself: Can you, given an evening's preparation, deliver a performance as good or better?

If you answered "Yes," then you're ready. Go out and audition, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You're just starting out, folks get that.

If you answered "No," then you're not ready. A film or tv show takes a significant financial risk every time it casts an unknown actor. If you can't deliver an entry-level professional performance then you don't deserve to be cast. Sorry.

But wait, there's hope. Take that same actor and read their IMDB biography. You'll probably find that they did theater for 10 years before being cast in that first role. If you haven't put in that much time doing theater you might still reach the same level of competence given time and effort.

Here's my homework:

Actor: Keanu Reeves

First Film: One Step Away (1985)

Could I do as well?: Yes. I think so.

Which means: I'm good enough to be auditioning for supporting roles in films with < $1 million budgets.

The Evidence:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LItH17PuXSo

Why Too Much Knowlege Can Be A Bad Thing

I came to Los Angeles a confident actor. I had just finished playing the lead in a one act play. I had consulted with all of my actor friends who had taken a swing at LA and thus was assured I wouldn't make the same mistakes. I was in great shape and had a certain pep in my step that only new love can bring. I felt like a pretty big fish in a small pond.

When I got to LA, I hit the ground running. I started my agent search. Self-submitted for roles. Auditioned all the time, and even got cast in a few shorts. On some of those shorts, I felt like I was slumming it.

To look back at it now, I was an ignorant ass.

I now fully appreciate just how big a pond LA is and just how small a fish I am. I am riddled with doubts about my abilities as a performer. I understand how important a first impression with a Casting Director is, and I have no intention of blowing it. As a result, I'm not submitting myself for roles. I'm not actively seeking an agent. I am floating. Worse, I have become the thing I most despise: the class & coffee shop actor. I have strong opinions, beliefs, and theories but rarely exercise them outside of conversations with friends.

I just had such a conversation with my extremely talented buddy JP. It served as something of a reality check:

Yes, I'm a small fish in a big pond. BUT, I was an even smaller fish when I first arrived in town and I actively sought and got work. I am a much better actor now than I was two years ago, and by all rights I should be pounding the pavement. If I'm not ready enough to begin now, I never will be.

Which all reminds me of what I believe to be a Los Angeles truism:

A bad actor with confidence in his/her abilities will book more work than a good actor with poor confidence in his/her abilities.

Oh to maintain the joys of ignorance whilst enjoying the benefits of wisdom!

Is Effortless Acting Better Acting?

I am slowly concluding that no amount of effort whilst acting will make me a better actor. That effort, in the act of performance, is antithetical to good acting. Examples:

• Actors who are trying to be funny rarely are.
• Actors who attempt to broadcast (vs share) their love just look creepy, and make their lovers look like fools.
• Grandiose physical intimidation is rarely scary while subdued verbal intimidation is often terrifying.
• Ever watched a soap opera?

The thought that acting can be effortless is still difficult to reconcile, but I'm coming around to it. That said, there is still work to be done in preparing for performance, but once in performance it's a process of letting go, listening, and responding as the impulse to communicate occurs.

Can you think of any examples where the aphorism "never let 'em see you sweat" doesn't ring true?