Permission To Say No

You’ve all heard it enough: This business is competitive. You’re rejected by people who matter on a daily basis. 

This however, does not mean that you have to accept every single job you’re offered. This can seem extremely counter-intuitive, particularly if you’re newer to the business or if you’ve gone a long time between jobs. 

Making the decision of whether or not to do that tenuously written short film, or to act in that derivative web series, or to engage in a shoddily produced summer production of “The Taming of the Shrew” isn’t just about damaging your brand or your reputation. Those things matter of course, and should be thought about. By saying yes to a project that…hell, you just don’t feel good about, allows you to set the bar lower for yourself and for what you’ll accept professionally. 

In the summertime, actors often find themselves saying yes to a project that they wouldn’t normally accept, because it’s slow and there’s this mythology that truly committed actors will act in anything they’re given a chance to be in—particularly if their résumé is light. Truly committed actors will act at any given chance by virtue of their deep love of the craft, right? 

No. 

Truly committed actors have taken the time to foster a realistic understanding of the business and they get that there’s a lot of crapola produced, a lot of stereotyped roles written, a lot of fear-motivated productions, and a lot of people scrambling around in the dark. 

Truly committed actors honor their commitment to acting and have the good sense that it could be extremely damaging to their love of acting, their love of the craft, to align themselves with such people. Acting is fun. The fun starts when you work on projects that you find fun, not when you sign on to projects that suck the joy of this career choice from you. 

Plenty of naysayers of course do abound, saying things like, “I’m not at a point in my career where I have the luxury of saying no.”

My response to that is: What if you are?

By saying no you propel yourself to the career you want now. You’re all probably familiar with the expression of God shutting doors and opening windows. By shutting that door yourself, you’re now forced to open a window, even if it means finding a damn axe and breaking through a wall.

If your thought process is “It’s slow (or I haven’t booked in over a year), I should just accept this role (that I don’t like or connect to) in this production (that I don’t like or have faith in) because I’m an actor and I need to act,” then you should have the courage to turn it down and go create an opportunity for yourself. This could mean writing a part for yourself, producing something you do care about, or reaching out to casting offices that you have relationships with—or any of the proactive endeavors that keep actors busy and their sense of personal integrity intact.  

From a more logical standpoint, if you don’t connect to a role when reading a script, chances are, you won’t connect to it in the room, either, or perhaps even on set when it matters. You will have spent your time and production’s time on the audition when neither was necessary.

Your representation may fight you on your choices to turn down an audition. They are working day in and day out to get you in any room. But don’t be afraid to say no. If you are uncomfortable auditioning for a prank show because you think they’re mean, try to fathom how violated your personal values would feel to actually be a paid performer on a prank show—where being mean would be a requirement. Just say no. If you don’t identify with science fiction and aliens, just say no.

 A role that is better for you will definitely come along, and you won’t have to force yourself to start from square one reading about science fiction worlds and rules. I promise you there are actors who already know and love everything sci-fi. Let them have that role. Yours is just down the road if you wait a bit.

“No” is just information. Think of it as equal to “yes,” which is just information, too. When someone else books a role you auditioned for, it’s not a “no” for you, it’s a “not yet.” Or a “not this one, but another one.” Same if you say no to a project. “Not this project, but another one that I’m more passionate about.”  

Still, in this business, you’ll hear the expression “work is work”—an expression that I like to think of as an excuse for not having the courage to have the career you really want. 

“Work is work” orbits around the notion that acting is a tough career choice. There aren’t enough jobs to go around, so why would anyone turn down work?

Even when you’re a nobody in this business, you still need to give careful consideration to the project that you attach your name to, the roles you agree to play, and the ways that you allow yourself to be portrayed. 

As Arthur Miller reminded us in “The Crucible,” as John Proctor: “Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life!”

This article was originally posted on Backstage

A Toast To Your Successes

I can’t tell you how many times a client has told me about a recent booking only to tag the news stone-faced with “Yeah, but it’s just a short film,” or “Yeah, but it’s just a pilot,” or “Yeah, but it’s just a small theater company.” However small, it’s vital you acknowledge your successes—all of them! Essentially, if you’re competing in the playing field of New York, L.A., Chicago (or hell, even New Orleans these days), there’s really no such thing as a small success. You’re playing a hand at a casino in Vegas, kids. Any achievement is worth bragging about. And I mean, any booking whatsoever. 

This is a never-ending journey. There will always be work ahead of you. If you don’t acknowledge your triumphs along the way, you will be in a constant state of misery. Beating out 20 other actors for a well-written student film is an accomplishment. Beating out 200 other actors for a celebrity-studded festival-bound indie is also an accomplishment. Now, to most actors, the latter matters and the former is nothing to feel good about.

That attitude is so problematic because there’s always going to be work and struggle in this business. This is what you all signed up to do. You all signed up for a career path where the future is for the most part, more uncertain than the accountant’s down the hall. Thus, if you book a short film and then piss all over it, you’re not only setting yourself up for a lifetime of feeling inadequate, you’re setting yourself up for a serious, lack of longevity—dangerously so.

If you don’t start celebrating each success today, you’re not going to be able to make a real go of it in this business. It’s just going to be too morale-crushing. You’d have to be a straight-up masochist (and I mean a sleeps-in-a-bed-of-barbed-wire-drinks-battery-acid type of masochist) to endure this career path without smelling and celebrating each and every rose along the way. The alternative is worse: The lack of acknowledging one’s successes almost puts one in a situation where there’s no possibility for surprises—a dynamic which could be incredibly detrimental to the safe and successful blossoming of your career at large.

Sometimes I find my clients are viewing their careers through the eyes of everybody back home. The fact of the matter is a lot of people “back home” who don’t work in the industry don’t really think much of a short film that is never going to be in their local theaters. They only care if that pilot you booked gets picked up and they can watch it on their television in the living room. Many of the successes that I see my clients have—successes which take a lot of talent and perseverance—really don’t mean a hill of beans to Uncle Marty and Aunt Fanny or your cousin Alyssa. Lord knows it’s rough being an actor and when you see your family, you feel like you have to give them a report card of “how things are going.” When you mention that short film you booked, it’s met with tepid excitement and canned encouragement. Situations like these are tough, and it’s easy to take on the perspective of these people and view these smaller projects as nothing more than a way to kill time. 

If you’ve made the noble and brave decision to be an actor, you’ve already decided to stop living life on someone else’s terms. So stop ranking out your accomplishments according to what the schoolteachers and investment bankers in your families think of them. This can be especially difficult, because progress in this field doesn’t resemble progress in other industries. In fact, just reading for a major part is a sign of massive progress. However, to people outside the industry it looks like you’re bragging about having a job interview while you still remain unemployed. 

I help my career clients to compete for every role they’re right for. I see it as my job to help empower my students to boost their audition rates, so that they understand how to get their foot in the door to be just as important as helping them book their roles and reach their Oscar potential. 

One of my career clients was just asked by the director of a major upcoming feature film to audition via Skype for him and one of the producers. This was an opportunity this actor would have never had had I not taught her the right way to properly pitch herself for roles she’s right for. Rather than celebrating the opportunity and putting all of her energy into preparing for this Skype audition, she complained that she didn’t have a good reel to send them, after they requested to see something on tape. Just getting the opportunity to audition for top tier film and TV roles is a major milestone for this actor. Rather than celebrating this triumph, she complained that there was another mountain in front of her after reaching the summit of the one she so desperately desired to climb. Adopting an attitude of constant defeat is unsustainable and exhausting, and ultimately leads to actors leaving the business.

Rather than drowning in defeat, start by making a list of the good things that happened to you in your career so far. Know that things might get easier, but not by much, and that most of this is a mental battle. After wrapping a recent film, Gwyneth Paltrow said to me, “I know it sounds awful, but it’s stressful not knowing when the next job is coming.” Accept that it’s tough for even Oscar-winning actors, and that there’s something beautiful in such a life choice—if you allow yourself to see it. 

This article was originally posted on Backstage

Taking The Chill Out Of The Cold Read

There are cold reads as they exist in acting class and there are cold reads as they exist in first-project productions (student films and novice production companies). Then there are cold reads as they exist in the professional arena of the industry. 

The first two are rushed with often unrealistic expectations marked by a shoddy understanding of the business. The latter refers to a legitimate/professional cold read: When a casting director, producer, director, or writer hands you a piece of text (audition sides or on-set revisions) and says, “We would love to see what you can do with this material. Please take 10–20 minutes—in your own space—to prepare the piece. It’s a given that you won’t be memorized. The only difference between a fully prepared audition and a winning cold read is that your lines are not memorized. 

Somehow, certain acting teachers and low-budget productions have gotten the idea that they can hand actors some sides, say “take five minutes” (which can end up to be more like two) and expect to see a decent performance. This is akin to an emergency room doctor walking up to an unconscious patient and the nurse turning to him/her, and saying, “Go on, save his life.” Obviously, any doctor, no matter how brilliant, would have to take the time to first determine what was wrong with the patient before taking steps to prevent a fatality. 

More importantly, no doctor worth a damn would allow himself or his talent and experience to be put in a situation so unprofessional that it bordered on absurdity. Actors need to have the same zero-tolerance policy for these unprofessional cold read situations.

There is no professional situation in which an actor would have a script dropped on them and be asked to “act” without being given a minimal allotment of prep time. Dropping a script on a performer and giving them the command “go” takes away their power. It is the responsibility and the duty of the actor to stand up for him or herself and say, “I’m going to need 15 minutes of prep time” with a firm voice and a smile.

Last week, a client described a horrible cold read experience she recently had. She said she felt extremely rushed and overwhelmed. When I asked how long did you take to prepare she said, “They only gave me one minute.” I instantly knew this must have been a first-project production team. No major/reputable casting office or production company would ever tell an actor she only had one minute to prepare previously unseen material.

Thus, if people are going to treat you, the actor, in an unprofessional manner, you need to be the one who puts them in check. This doesn’t have to be done in an annoyed or irritated fashion, as such emotions really just stem from fear, after all, and you’d just be reflecting the emotions projected at you in this instance. By asking this production team or acting teacher for the necessary amount of time, you’re like a kind guidance counselor who essentially reminds them how to treat people. By sticking up for yourself, you’re essentially doing them a favor. 

This article was originally posted on Backstage

Find A Rep With Passion

The actors who get to compete for every role they’re right for are the ones who have reps that kick open doors for them. These reps have the relationships with casting offices, and if they don’t have those years-long relationships with certain offices, they have no fear or hesitation in picking up the phone and making a strong pitch for their client.

This article was originally posted on Backstage

Why Your Should Stop Looking For Representation

In the decades I’ve worked in this business, I can say with confidence that nearly every single actor I’ve met possessing incredible representation, was directly scouted out by the reps themselves. They didn’t do mailings, they didn’t do showcases, they didn’t ask their friends for referrals. They got to a place in their careers where all the years of ass-busting started to pay off, and were suddenly at a level where people who mattered began to notice them. 

What is incredible representation? It’s the kind that pitches you via telephone for every role you’re right for. It’s the kind that generates 5–6 major auditions per week during peak months. The kind of agent/manager who you sign with as a result of you seeking them out is the not kind of rep that will pitch you for every role you’re right for.

As I’ve mentioned in previous articles, 99 percent of agents and managers do not pitch their clients to production offices or casting directors via phone—they will send an online submission. This is the equivalent of chewing gum and blowing a big bubble in the hopes that will help bring the client in for an audition. The submission they click on falls into a sea of thousands of other clicked-on online submissions. The actor becomes the needle in the haystack.

I’m not going to rant about the lack of effectiveness of this process. I’m merely going to ask that the actor reading this article take a moment to reflect on how many auditions this has gotten them in the last year. 

Without the right phone pitch the average client of that agent/manager will only see 0–6 major film and TV auditions per year. There can be up to 50 major roles that an actor could be perfect for, but she/he will only compete for a few of those. 

The actors who do get to compete for every role they’re right for are the ones who have reps that kick open doors for them. These reps have the relationships with casting offices, and if they don’t have those years-long relationships with certain offices, they have no fear or hesitation in picking up the phone and making a strong pitch for their client. 

Here’s a common sentiment from “great” agents and managers: “Stop looking for us, we’ll find you!” 

This really is the truth. If you’re at a point in your career where you’ve truly done the work to get noticed—either through booking work without representation, or creating your own work—then these great reps will find you. Just recently, a highly desirable management company tweeted, after my client—with no representation—booked 12 major (paid) film and TV roles as a result of my career coaching approach:

“@josephpearlman @colestroud @Humin send your info to us!!! We love a proactive actor!”

What makes these great agents and managers so great is that they keep an ear to the ground. In combination with their assistants and colleagues, these reps are constantly watching TV and film, and trolling YouTube for the next new thing. These are the reps who watch indie films—and if they don’t have time to do all of that research, then they make damn certain to keep up with the trade papers. 

These are essentially the reps who live and breathe this industry. They love the business, they actually love actors—(Most of the time, and who can blame them?)—and they make it their personal responsibility to keep up with the brightest talent that is swinging from the vines of the industry jungle. 

These truly great reps are going to be the ones who are really going to make a discernible difference in your career. They’re going to be able to help push you forward in ways that you simply can’t do yourself. Here’s the catch: You have to get to a place where you deserve to be able to meet with them. I’m not going to lie, some actors get to this level through luck, family connections, or a lot of early breaks—or a healthy mix of all three.

Other actors get to this level by trying, struggling, working, failing, trying something else, and bleeding out. But at the end of the day they make it. 

And the prize is unity, because this actor is no longer swinging punches and kicking down doors alone. The actor has a team behind him/her that matters. 

This article was originally posted on Backstage

Are You Beautiful Enough For This Business?

I recently coached a very talented client for a series regular role on a major cable drama pilot. This actor has a considerable amount of top tier film and TV credits and is, by all mainstream standards, extremely beautiful.

I called the casting director—a major casting office—for feedback a few days after her audition. When I got the casting director on the phone she said, “Oh yes, I remember her, she was excellent. Let me check my session notes. Oh here it is, yes, not beautiful enough.”

The Subjective Nature of Beauty
Suffice it to say, I am a man of great self-restraint. As you can imagine, there was a part of me that suddenly morphed into this client’s mother and wanted to shrilly bark at this casting director that my client looked like a pageant winner and a stand-in for Gwyneth Paltrow, and how dare she suggest anything to the contrary. But I thanked the office for the (candid) feedback and amicably ended the call. 

The conversation definitely brought to light an issue that riddles the city of Los Angeles like a plague. This is a city that contains some of the best looking people in the nation, and few actors ever feel they’re beautiful enough (men included). There’s a good reason for this: It’s a part of the culture here, more so than in New York, I assure you. This is the culture that welcomes plastic surgery with open arms, where I’ve heard agents say, “I’ll represent you, just get your nose fixed,” where friends tell other friends that “a boob job would just even out your proportions.” A place where my male students won’t touch the tortilla chips at our bar nights because they’re on a low carb diet, because their reps said they have to lose weight and get a six-pack before they submit them for leading man roles.

Here’s the thing: In Los Angeles in this business, there’s no shortage of people to remind you where you stand in the looks department—almost anyone here in a mild position of power is eager and willing to tell you. If you’re not a 10, boy, you’ll find that out fast. But even the clients that are 10’s are still under pressure to not lose or screw up what they’ve got, and to get subtle enhancements (injections, mild surgeries) to enhance their divine genetic code. Essentially, no one in Los Angeles is free from scrutiny and insecurity—not even those we consider luckiest. 

Other actors help reinforce this culture of insecurity by making each other feel insecure, by applauding each move for cheek implants, each dinner of Swedish fish and celery, and each attempt to emulate the appearance of the model or celebrity of the day. When in reality, actors need to be embracing the weird and asymmetrical stuff that makes them distinct. 

You’re Not a 10: Use It to Your Professional Advantage
Look, the remainder of this article is not going to be some attempt to convince you to love yourself for who you are, along with your crooked teeth and acne. I’m not a self-help guru (and common sense should nudge you in that direction anyway). Nor do I have the energy to try to convince anyone that they need to love the things that drive them crazy in the mirror. Nor will the rest of this article tell you to pack it up and move to Iowa where those mid-America folks will definitely consider you a perfect 10 (if only it were that easy…). 

Rather, I’m here to tell you that it’s time to leverage the lack of perfection in your appearance to your advantage. 

There’s been a revolution in the last 10 years that indicates we are more willing to accept the interesting face. It’s almost as though the media is loosening up: Just as we’ve shrugged off the notion that the perfect TV family has to have two white parents and a smiley, fresh-faced set of kids (one of each gender, of course), we’ve also shrugged off the idea that a leading man/leading lady has to look like they stepped from the pages of the A&F Quarterly.   

Now, more than ever before, people are willing to agree that beauty is subjective. Just look at Lena Dunham, Zooey Deschannel, and Jenny Slate—all female actors who have been told repeatedly (and continue to be told) that they don’t meet the traditional benchmarks of beauty. 

Sure, about half the agents, managers, and acting coaches in Los Angeles still haven’t caught up, but it’s your job as actors to be aware of that. It’s your job to showcase your singularity and individuality during your next headshot session—and not get made up and photographed so you represent some glamour boy/girl.

One of my trademarks as a coach is that I help my clients use their unique personalities to find their acting singularity—the exclusive combination of attitudes and behaviors that make them a complete original. This process involves discarding and torching any impossible or arbitrary beauty ideal. Success as an actor isn’t going to happen if you try to imitate others. So now is the time to showcase a personality and aesthetic people have never experienced before—yours. 

Who remembers the first time they had a Frappuccino? I remember when I had one for the first time. In New York, in 1996, and I thought, Hot damn, that’s pretty good; I’ve never had a coffee drink quite like this. Interesting, provocative, and daringly different actors like Jenny Slate, Zooey Deschanel, Lena Dunham, Seth Green, and Jonah Hill all figured that out: They took everything about them and turned it into a “hot damn that’s different” selling point.

This article was originally posted on Backstage