PIC: Play It Cool

It's oh-so-tempting to brag to all your friends, acquaintances and frenemies about getting to work on the set of a movie or television show. What happens when your line gets cut? What happens when your scene gets cut? What happens when the movie never gets picked up for distribution or television airtime? What happens when the television show gets cancelled before your episode airs? In my personal experience with all of the aforementioned situations, I tried to play it cool - with varying degrees of success.

My advice to all struggling actors is to play it cool. Sure, tell people in humble terms that you got to work on such-and-such set. Tell them how fun it was or wasn't. Go ahead and mention anyone famous you may have met, but don't make it sound like you're suddenly BFFs. Conversely, don't disparage the famous people you met. If the famous person/people behaved in a less-than-humanitarian manner, resist the urge to dish, and acknowledge that we all have bad days. Do NOT under any circumstances overstate your role in any project. If you worked as an extra, admit it graciously. If you have a line (or three), might I suggest the following phrase, "I may have a line (or three) in the project, but you never know until you see it. I'm not sure what will happen in editing." If that movie you were so excited to work on ends up being too silly for even the most melodramatic movie-of-the-week, and never shows anywhere, have a little giggle about it with your friends. Beat them to the punchline. Be thankful for the experience.

When the HBO movie on which you worked as an extra wins lots of Emmy Awards and a Golden Globe, be proud that you worked on the project, met some of the stars and got to go to the premiere. However, be ready for acquaintances to remark that they couldn't pick you out of the crowd. (Those acquaintances probably don't like their jobs and/or are stuck in a bad relationship.) Resist the urge to rattle off all the names of all the famous people you've met, worked with, eavesdropped on, shaken hands with, had friendly conversations with or held doors open for on set. Play it cool.

A Real Paycheck

About the time I start thinking I want a real job with a predictable work schedule and a steady income, the acting work and acting paychecks start rolling in again. I have several dinner theatre shows booked this month. Each performance generates nice checks. I also got my first taste of "mailbox money" in the form of a "use of image" check for that national SAG commercial I did back in August. Not only was I paid very well for the long day of shooting the commercial in which I appear in the background as a blurry shadow, but I also get quarterly checks for as long as the commercial runs. A girl could get used to cashing "use of image" checks!

Despite the recent flurry of paychecks, I still long for a more predictable schedule with more steady work. I'd have to move to L.A. to have a chance of fulfilling my ultimate dream of being a sitcom mom or the recurring wacky aunt character on a long-running show. Goodness knows it won't happen in my current city. (I did work as an extra on a TV show this fall in my city, but the show was cancelled after the second episode aired.)

My contract with my talent agent comes up for renewal in six months. I've had many commercial auditions resulting in a handful of callbacks, but no real work resulted from these auditions. When I did the SAG commercial, I didn't audition. The casting person simply chose my photo from my talent agency's website after my agent confirmed that I was available for the shoot. I knew that making it as an actress would be difficult, but I didn't realize how much emphasis would be placed on commercial work. I'm an actress; not a skinny, blond spokesmodel. I honestly won't be sad if my agent chooses not to renew my contract. I'll still do theatre work with or without an agent. Although the theatrical performances don't pay as well as the SAG commercial, I have more fun doing them, get to work with a cohesive group of actors consistently and do some actual acting versus walking around the background and/or smiling until my face contorts into muscle spasms.

Six Degrees of Separation

My wonderfully supportive better-half previously worked in advertising. Though he took off to pursue other ventures over eighteen months ago, we still socialize with his ad buddies. I knew the day would come when I'd have to audition for one of our acquaintances. That day was Saturday.

Mercifully the audition was taped by a casting director (this one I like quite well) to be viewed by our quirky yet intimidating, advertising-guru-friend a later time.

I did not get the part.

I hope that the next time I see this person from the ad company, neither of us mentions the audition tape. It wasn't that I did a bad job. I did a good (not great) job. The whole situation is just a bit awkward.

Thank goodness I never had to audition for any commercial projects my better-half produced. That would have been unbearable.

SAG Overtime Rocks my Checking Account!

About six weeks ago I complained about the horrendous overtime I worked on a commercial shoot. That was before I knew what a nice paycheck all that overtime would yield on a shoot adhering to Screen Actors Guild rules. I'm not saying that I suddenly decided I enjoyed the sixteen-hour day (or nineteen-hour day including drive time), but I'd do it again for that amount of money. My financial and time investments into getting a talent agent have payed off. (Yes, my lovely, hardworking agents secured this job for me.) I've broken even. Hallelujah!

The oddest part of this adventure into SAG-Overtime-Land is that no one will see me in the commercial. At best I'll be a blur in the background - a very expensive blur.

I'm happy to have the money, but I'm sure whoever got stuck with all the unexpected expenditures of that (out of control and way over budget) commercial shoot is not at all happy to pay the many people involved in the project. The lesson: don't make actors and crew do the time if you can't pay for your crime. Sheriff SAG patrols these here parts, and he suffers no fools.

So That's What it Feels Like

I finally had a good, no, a great commercial audition! I tried out for two different roles in a series of commercials. The first role went well enough, but I had a little trouble with the second role. The casting director (one that scares the bejeezus out of me) gave a few constructive notes and sent me back out to the hallway to work. Fifteen minutes later I marched back into the audition room and nailed it! The uber-intimidating casting director smiled big (the first time I've seen this person smile genuinely) and said, "Great job! Nice adjustment!" I was so pleased, I gave a "woo!" of joy right there in the room.

I did not get the part (unless they're waiting four weeks to announce casting), but having a great commercial audition raised my confidence for-sure. And that casting director no longer scares the bejeezus out of me. I'm all for constructive direction!

Not at all Glamorous

Late Sunday evening, I got a call from my agent that I booked a role as a customer for a national SAG commercial. Score! I'd need to drive 90 miles each way to another city for the shoot, but I'd be reimbursed for mileage. Great! I got an email letting me know when I needed to be where and what type of clothes to bring. Can do!

A mere twelve hours after my agent's phone call, I arrived at the location and was directed into a parking spot. I signed in and did my paperwork. One of the production ladies told me that the call time was pushed back half an hour, didn't I get the message?, no, oh well. My first half hour would be unpaid. No big! I asked about my mileage reimbursement. The Production Assistant and the Production Coordinator whispered to each other that I would not be eligible for mileage money, but they never bothered to answer me directly.

Then I sat in an air-conditioned trailer for about ten hours chatting with other cast and crew members, reading a magazine cover-to-cover, drinking water, nibbling stale pretzels and texting my husband about how bored I was.

Finally I was ushered to the set. I rehearsed the short scene a few times. Then the director decided he didn't like what I was wearing, and sent me with the wardrobe lady to change clothes. He wanted me in a style of clothes completely different from all the clothes I was instructed to bring, and had lugged into the wardrobe room. Thank goodness the wardrobe ladies were prepared for such contingencies and steamed the wrinkles out of an outfit for me. Thank goodness the outfit fit my curvy figure. I had to leave the itchy price-tags attached and tucked into the clothes against my skin, so that the wardrobe peeps can return the worn clothes when the shoot is over. Ewww.

I went back to set, where the director approved of the new outfit. I spent half an hour walking back and forth pretending to admire goods in the store. Because the shoot was running so far behind schedule, and because the sun had set, super-bright lights were employed to make it look like daytime. The super-bright lights inspired lots of sweat and high temperatures. When sound is being recorded, the air-conditioners and fans must be turned off so as not to interfere with the sound. Cue more sweat.

After finishing my scene, I exited the sweaty set to get a cold drink and cool off. Within ten minutes, a Production Assistant was sent to wrangle me back into the sweaty room, where I was instructed to sit and wait out of view and out of the way in case they needed me again. So I sat. And sat. And sat. For another four hours. Finally one of the guys who actually gave a hoot about the budget asked why I, along with two other actors, were still there. Could we go? Hold on. They'll check. Ten minutes later, we were allowed to leave. I put my own clothes back on my body. I lugged all of my clothes, shoes and accessories back to my car. None of the strong men standing around offered to help me. I got in my car and drove 90 miles home, singing loudly with all the AC vents pointed at my face to stay awake.

Making commercials, movies and TV shows is not at all glamorous. Red carpet events and movie premieres are only about 1% of the job and only for the top 1% of celebrities. You've been warned, aspiring actors and crew.

Friend in Common/Awful Audition

Today's audition was of the commercial variety. (Faithful readers know how much I loathe commercial auditions.) The maker of a high-tech medical gizmo wants video of a spokesperson inviting medical professionals into their booth at trade shows. Since I am not currently a medical professional, and never have been, I spent a while googling all the medical jargon and the gizmo. I figured out what was what in the script and memorized the 3/4 page of copy.

I showed up for the audition today feeling fine. While I waited for my turn, I noticed the casting lady eyeballing me every time she came out into the waiting area. This is a new casting lady that I'd never met before. When I got into the actual audition room, the casting lady introduced herself. She said I looked soooo familiar to her and that my name was also familiar. We spent a few minutes figuring out that we have a fancy producer/director friend in common. This fancy friend forwarded my headshot and acting résumé to the casting lady a few months ago. Thanks so much, fancy friend!

Then I started my audition for the medical gizmo. I stumbled over my words and said the multi-letter, multi-number product name incorrectly. I got all kinds of nervous and generally gave the worst audition of my life. The casting lady was super-nice about it and gave me a second chance, which was also awful. By the time she said, "cut", for my audition tape, all I could do was smile at her sheepishly and say, "I'm sorry." She smiled and said not to worry about it. She said she would tell our fancy friend that she finally got to meet me. Great... I hope she doesn't tell him how utterly dreadful my audition was. Blerg.