I don't really care how much the latest superhero film took at the box office, although I'd probably know if you asked me. When I watch a film the main thing I am looking for is a good story. I like it when I look up at the big screen and can see a part of me staring back at me. More than anything, I am still looking for Jimmy Stewart and Jack Lemmon and Billy Wilder in every film I see.
Six years ago she was doing tiny mumblecore movies -- some of them were great, some of them sucked. But there she was, putting the work in, being part of one of the most interesting film movements of recent times. Some of them she co-wrote, one of them she even directed ('Nights and Weekends'). For those who aren't familiar with the term 'mumblecore' - they're essentially films that are shot with no money, in a very naturalistic way, that focus on character rather than explosions.
She was a revelation, because she was just so natural and real. Along with people like Mark Duplass and Kate Dollenmayer, they became some of my favourite actors.
It's important to look at their careers, because they did it in their OWN way. The mumblecore movies (as much as those involved dislike the term) answered to no-one, they followed their instincts and sensibilities. When you see 'Nights and Weekends' or 'The Puffy Chair', whatever you think of them, you can't knock their integrity.
That's why I'm so excited to see the trailer for 'Lola Versus'. Here is a studio-produced (partly) movie that has Gerwig as the lead. She's gone from these tiny personal movies to a Fox Searchlight produced flick, yet still retains that personal touch. The thing about Gerwig is that you believe her, she's one of us. That's not a feeling you get when you watch Mila Kunis or Megan Fox.
Greta got there on talent, hard work, and originality. And by originality I don't mean that she reinvented the wheel -- I just mean that she remained herself. The same thing goes for the Duplass brothers. The studio did their best to interfere with 'Cyrus', but eventually they clawed it back and made the personal movie they wanted to make. I just saw the trailer for 'Safety Not Guaranteed'. It's crazy. I'm in love with it! Not only is Mark Duplass in it, but him and his brother were producers on it.
There's a new way of making films, and we're all included. It's about independence and art. You don't need the studios. Yet if you do something GREAT, the studios will want in.
Kate Dollenmayer's performance in Andrew Bujalski's 'Funny Ha Ha' blew me away. But get this, she never acted again! That seemed crazy to me. And then you see that in 2009 she was involved in another Bujalski film, but as 'assistant camera'! Don't you just love that? There are no rules anymore, it's about collaboration. The important thing to take from mumblecore is that they are incredibly personal movies. Now those responsible for the movement are quietly moving up in the world by making films that are involved with (at least partially), the studios, yet they've remained themselves.
Greta Gerwig has something that most Hollywood actresses don't have. Her IMDB board is a bit shocking, because there are people attacking her looks and slamming her in a variety of ways. But they miss the point, she's ONE OF US! She's real. Have you seen 'Greenberg'? She'll blow you away in that. She feels like your ex-girlfriend, or your best friend from high school - she's real. Even in 'No Strings Attached' -- she's a breath of fresh air.
That's why it's a new type of acting career. She gets cast in the average studio fare like 'No Strings Attached', and she gets the lead in an Indiewood feature like 'Lola Versus', AND she's in the new Woody Allen film! And it's all on her terms. I don't know what you think of her. You might be inspired by this post to check out her work then you'll find her boring and lacking charisma, she's had that criticism before. But that's kind of my point, it's personal, she's personal. She's the friend that some people enjoy being around, some people fall in love with, and some people dislike. But that's infinitely more interesting than what we usually get. It's something real.
She's playing by her own rules. How many people in the industry can you say that about?
A few years back I ran an acting competition, which was won by Eric Geynes and Laura Evelyn. It was just a silly little competition, but they took part, as did numerous others.
But I remember how much interest the competition got initially. I got heaps of emails, filled with questions about the rules, ideas, etc. The momentum was good. But how many bothered to finish their videos? Not half as many who initially said they'd do it.
But Laura and Eric did. And they won. Their video stood out. It showed talent. It showed an understanding of comedy. It kept viewers entertained.
CUT TO:
A few years later. There's another competition going over at YOBI.TV. Laura entered the video she shot for the competition here, and she was the runner-up! The prize for being runner up? A role in a web-series and payment of $2,500.
So now she's headed over to Detroit to be a part of something special.
Why did this happen?
Because Laura has talent? Without question.
Because she bothered to get up and do something? Definitely.
Don't sit at home with your talents. DO SOMETHING. Introduce yourself to the world. Congrats to Laura for doing so well in the competition. I'm excited for her, but hardly surprised. She's going to do very well!
There was a lot of hype about 'Bridesmaids' when it came out. Article after article about how it was going to change the industry. But just because a few black men are in politics now, it doesn't mean hundreds of years of institutional racism vanish. Likewise, the fact that a few male producers enabled two women to write a movie and have a female cast; it doesn't mean it's suddenly an even playing field.
But I wish it was. Because women are great at making movies. They're great when they step out of the restrictive chick-flick genre; because when films like 'Sex & The City' get made, I'd rather keep male privilege rolling for another hundred years. But films like 'Bridesmaids' and 'Whip It' - to give two examples (albeit light-comedy examples) show that there is a whole voice missing from cinema, a whole gender's perspective to be truly explored. The history of cinema is, by and large, the history of male storytelling.
In June 2009 I wrote a blog called 'Men Only' in which I said, among other things, "I love women on screen, they're an important part of films; but it's very rare that I find them interesting enough to carry a film as the lead. What's that about?"
And I want you to know I fully retract everything I said in that article. I was wrong, and my views have changed considerably.
A perfect example of great acting is Kristen Wiig in 'Bridesmaids'.
When you're watching a comedy, you rarely think about its complexity. You just have a good time and wait for the next laugh to come. Wiig's character, Annie Walker, was amazingly written and acted; a stunning performance from the lead actress. Not only is it worth noting -- I think it's worth exploring further.
Annie Walker was vulnerable and fragile throughout the whole film. At the beginning we find out that her business attempt, opening a bakery during the recession, has failed. When it did, her boyfriend left. Her best friend is getting married and her love life consists of casual sex with a man who doesn't listen to her, doesn't care about her needs, and doesn't want her sticking around for the night.
You cling on to anything when you're down. Annie clings on to her best friend, Lillian (Maya Rudolph) who is also getting married. There's a touching scene when Lillian announces she's getting married and asks Annie to be the bridesmaid. Of course, she says yes -- but only seconds later, as Lillian chats on the phone to her fiance we see Annie sitting there trying to hide her loneliness.
The supporting characters in a film all give us information about the main character. It's done to maximum effect in this film when the gorgeous, rich, youthful and seemingly perfect Helen immediately makes Annie feel bad about herself. With just a look in her eyes we can see she feels old and under threat. We can all relate to it. We've all had a friend bring along a new friend and we feel all threatened and insecure about their in-jokes.
Wiig is noted for her comedic talents, which are undeniable. But the core of this movie is actually carried by her dramatic abilities. Those moments in between the laughs -- little snapshots of her character that lived outside of the writing.
A great example is the scene where she makes a cupcake in her apartment. She takes the time to make a perfect cake, which she bakes and decorates to perfection. She places it carefully on the table, on its own ---- before picking it up and scoffing it down herself. What a great, unique way to show loneliness! Lesser writers would have had her calling someone up and saying 'I'm lonely' or listening to 'All By Myself' -- here we just have her eating a cupcake, and it tells us everything.
I can't think of any other character in recent film history who shows the anxiety of insecurity and fear as well as Annie Walker does here. The writers really kept hitting this home, scene after scene. The airplane scene, renowned for her hilarious drunkenness and for Megan's (Melissa McCarthey's) conversation with the Air Marshall; also carries a lot of dramatic weight in that in cements the gap that is increasing between Annie and her best friend, which is being made worse by the fact Lillian and Helen are getting closer and closer as friends (due to her failings). They are in first class, while she is stuck in coach.
After Annie's mad, drunken behavior on the plane; Lillian suggests that maybe being the Bridesmaid is too much for her. Of course; this is the thing she'd always feared. Of not being enough, of not being able to do a good job, of not being able to be a great friend. That's what insecurity does, renders you ineffective and makes your worst fears come true. It's that vulnerability that Wiig manages to portray so truthfully.
The sadness of the character is what makes it so compelling. It's what grips you. The funny situations she gets in have a weight to them because they're rooted in realism, no matter how absurd they are. We can relate. I can relate, and I'm a man. That's why all this men-only-in-leading-roles is bullshit, because we're all human beings, and our problems are universal.
The writing takes a great turn in that she begins to get what she needs: a good man (Chris O'Dowd as Officer Nathan Rhodes). Yet she runs from it. Can't handle it. Things have been going wrong for so long, what the hell do you do when something right comes along? There's a simple scene afterwards when she phones Lillian and says she doesn't have a clue what she's doing, it's the most truthful moment of the movie. Truthful because, in life, so often we don't know what we're doing.
After all this -- she's lost. Lost her center, the thing that makes her herself. She loses her job in the jewelry store after calling a customer a cu*t, she's ignoring Nathan (without really knowing why), and she's asked to move out by her English roommates. What makes it so satisfying, dramatically, is that we feel for her -- she's a good woman, doing her best; yet again and again she's failing. We can all relate to it because that's how the world works.
Comedy is better when you relate to it, when it has reality as a basis. Or not even as a basis, it just needs something in there that's authentic. That's why 'The Other Guys' sucked. Absurd is fine, but you need a center; a place to jump off from. 'Bridesmaids' took care of these details and that's why it's superior to most of the comedies of recent years.
Then there's the bridal shower, which she's invited to despite being demoted from her Bridesmaid duties. She's a good friend and a proud person, so she makes sure she's there. She loves her friend. We see this when she gives her a present, a touchingly personal gift -- a collection of things from back home in Milwaukee, along with a photo montage from their younger days.
And then rich-and-perfect Helen buys Lillian a trip to Paris; an idea which stemmed from a conversation with Annie about how much Lillian likes Paris. Annie is heartbroken -- it's an extremely bitchy and manipulative move from Helen; which we the audience can see, and our hero Annie can see -- but the guests at the party can't.
What follows is Annie going absolutely crazy; wrecking the garden and smashing things to pieces. It's a hilarious yet cringeworthy scene; but powerful because we feel her sense of injustice. Yet dramatically, she's ruining her best friend's wedding experience. The complex blend of comedy, sadness, and the righteousness of the other characters is brilliantly handled.
The Writing of the film, by Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo, with the watchful eye of Judd Apatow; is the core of what makes this film great. Each event, each scene, drives Annie further and further away from her best friend, and from herself. It's rooted in truth; we can relate to what's happening because we'd want to react just like she does. Even the parts of the film that are over the top and ridiculous, we're still there-- because the characters are so true.
It's the acting of the film that brings it home. The best actors are able to do two opposite things on screen. It's why people pay Robert Downey Jr so much money, and it's why we all loved Jack Lemmon. Kristen Wiig has a touch of that magic. She knows how to get the laugh -- years at the Groundlings Theatre, and live SNL performances, and the multitude of ridiculous jobs before she 'made it' have helped shape the comedic talent that she is. What makes her performance in 'Bridesmaids' stand out, is how layered it is. We laugh at the comedy, but it's the heart and honesty we connect with.
Kristen Wiig steals the show. It is her show. She deserves it. Undeniably one of the most talented actresses and naturally gifted comedians in the business; this film showcases everything about her that is awesome.
And she's not just funny. She pulls at your heart in this movie. There are times when she communicates giant pangs of loneliness or intense and heartbreaking vulnerability -- and she's able to do it with just a look. A moment.
That's what great acting is, capturing a moment. The best actors can do it in a millisecond by doing something or making a decision to not do something. It's like Tom Hanks in 'The Green Mile' when he's listening to John Coffey through the prison cell. He just sits and listens, but somehow he also communicates pretty much every emotion known to man. I'm exaggerating, but only slightly. Great acting is when they make it look simple. They turn nothing into everything.
Wiig is beautiful, too. Not beautiful in the way that all the women in the movies are. Just beautiful in the way that women are beautiful. She's real. It's so much more interesting than looking at Megan Fox bouncing around in Transformers. I'm aware that women's looks always get mentioned when they're acting; I never review a Kevin Spacey film and then talk about his looks. But I guess my point here is --- in this film, and not just with Wiig, but with all of them -- they seem real. I can relate to them. They don't look like some insane and unrealistic 'dream girl'. And as a result, the women in 'Bridesmaids' are more appealing.
There are moments when Wiig will break your heart in this movie. There are times when she's jealous, resentful, lonely; in fact-- for most of the film, she is really lonely.
Yet she's also hilarious. Truthful pangs of loneliness but with big laughs. That's not easy to do. You just have to see her in this movie.
A lot of people wake up one day and say 'I'm going to be an actor.' It means nothing, thousands do it. Most have an abundance of training; but so often, it means nothing. The training helps, it gives you technique and tools; but it means very little if it doesn't go deeper.
When you cast an actor in a film; the résumé is important to some people and the look is definitely a factor; but you're looking for someone with a bit of wisdom, with a story in their eyes. Robert Downey Jr isn't just a man acting out scenes from a page; he's a carriage for something more meaningful. His comedy has a sadness to it and his darker scenes have a lightness to them. He's able to be in two places at once because that's how his life is. He doesn't just play what's on the page, he plays what's inside himself. He does this whether he's in a little indie film or in a superhero movie.
The thing about real life is that we are in ten places at one time. If I'm at a party having a good time; I'm also worried about my drunken friend in the corner, and I'm a bit sad that my friend who died 4 years ago can't be there and I'm also dreaming about a beach holiday. If it was a scene in a movie; a great actor would be in all those places but a bad actor would just be at the party.
And this is what you can't teach. Some actors just want the red carpet. Some are too aware of themselves. Some just want to escape their lives. But you want to cast the ones who don't have blank expressions and don't look at things from one perspective. You want performers who bring it all to the table.
The most successful actors often have an ease about them which we assume is because of their riches and celebrity, and I'm sure that's a part of it; but more than that I feel that they have mastered themselves. Becoming a great actor is a personal development project. The more you get to know who you are and what triggers your emotions, the better you'll be. The training helps, but a lot of it needs to be figured out by the actors themselves.
"Johnny, it seems we hardly knew you. We love you, and we miss you."
-Martin Sheen.
We were fortunate to get some poignant, adventitious glimpses of Leo McGarry -- some of John Spencer's finest work -- in episodes that were originally screened after the unexpected death of the actor who played him, John Spencer. As if by pure luck, John's performances in his final episodes are some of the finest in the history of THE WEST WING. But looking at his acting career, you realize: it has nothing to do with luck. John Spencer was always getting better, as an actor. Leo McGarry was his masterpiece.
This week I have had the privilege of talking to Eli Attie, who was a Supervising Producer and Writer on The West Wing. Here's what he had to say about John.
"The West Wing had an extraordinary company of actors. Not typical TV actors, the people who move to LA as teenagers to primp and pose and become stars, but deeply serious actors, who had honed their craft in NY theater and were unbelievably dedicated to the process, to the work itself. John had spent decades in that world, and even among our great, great cast, he had a weight of experience, a way of owning his place in a scene, that was in many ways equivalent to the authority Leo had as White House chief of staff. His role was unquestioned. There was an accumulated strength and wisdom to John's acting. Some actors find their way to a performance; John knew precisely what he was doing from the first take, always. Like Leo, there was no room for stumbling around. And no need."
At the beginning of Episode 10, in Season 7 - the episode begins with Martin Sheen addressing the audience, and sharing the news that we would be witnessing the final few months of John Spencer's work. The episode that proceeded this statement was one of Spencer's finest. The Santos For President campaign was running out of patience with Leo McGarry-- who was stumbling over simple questions whilst rehearsing for the Vice-Presidential candidate debate, with the staff worrying over his health and ability to fulfill the role.
It's a heartbreaking episode because we see the powerhouse of Leo McGarry, for the first time in seven seasons; looking extremely vulnerable. He looks this way until the final moments when his performance in the debate outshines all expectations; and we (and his staff) realize he's been manipulating the media the whole time. This episode is a shining example of the brilliant complexity that Spencer brought to his work.
"I went to the small wake that his family held in New Jersey right after he died. Just a few of us made it; the weather was awful. It was my first Catholic wake, and as the tradition dictates, there was a big corkboard covered with family photos of John throughout his life. In his West Wing days, his face was like a novel--so much complexity and depth of expression. Simple reaction shots of John, while the other characters were talking, could tell as much story as the words. And looking at that board, I remember thinking: he had that same amazing character actor's face when he was six, he was just waiting to grow into it. Which might be why his career really came alive later in his life."
John's final two episodes on The West Wing were a fitting tribute to the man - which is especially moving considering this was never their intention. Episode 12 of Season Seven was written by Eli, and featured a remarkable scene between Leo and President Bartlet (played by Martin Sheen). Of course, Eli Attie wasn't to know that this would be their final scene together; but we can only thank the Gods that these two wonderful men got to share the screen one final time. There was something powerful about seeing these two masters (fictionally, as characters, and in reality, as actors) on screen together. They compelled me and held my attention in a way so few can. I wrote about this in my previous article about the show, "They brought a gravitas; a weight, that you rarely see in television, or in life. We need them. They represent the type of leadership and eldership we all need, within our selves and from those around us."
I asked Eli, "On screen; Leo had a real gravitas; he was an elder to those around him. Could the same be said of John Spencer?"
"I think on an acting level that was true, absolutely. Just in terms of age and experience, both Martin and John had that kind of gravitas, a very well-earned respect from the whole cast and production. But personally, I think of John as someone who was always laughing and joking, would always greet you with a hug--a more openly emotional person than Leo. Leo quite literally had the weight of the world on those shoulders. John could afford to be looser, more casual, more of a thoroughly creative spirit. John was an artist, after all, which I don't think Leo could ever have been, or would have fully understood."
The final episode that John appears in, is the first episode where Donna and Josh kiss. The Santos team are celebrating gains in the polls; and they are all in high spirits. We see a brief shot of Leo, in the mix -- and it steals your attention. There he is, full of life -- not only do we see Leo McGarry unusually happy, but we see a glimpse of the John Spencer that the West Wing crew knew, the artist and creative spirit that Eli just described. It's touching. It's only a couple of seconds -- but it's a more moving few seconds than most TV shows manage in their entire runs.
The episodes that followed dealt with the death of the character, Leo McGarry, which was made more real and emotional by the fact that we were mourning the death of John Spencer, too. For us, as viewers, it was deeply sad. For the cast and crew of The West Wing, they had lost a close friend. In some strangely poignant and beautiful way, it made for some of the greatest television ever made. But it also meant an end for the show.
"One of the reasons there couldn't have been an eighth season of the show, in my view, was John's absence. When I think of that final run of episodes, dealing with Leo's death, and of course John's as well, I think of Brando in the final scene of The Godfather Part II. he's not actually there, but you feel his power, you feel the life-force that he was, and everyone is still reacting to him. John's death left a gaping hole in the middle of the show, a cavernous vacuum, and the rest of Season Seven was largely a reaction to that--a memorial to him and to the creative world he helped to shape and lead. So his death of course changed everything. I have a hard time separating the personal aspects--gathering to share memories at his home right after his passing, the wake and the funeral and the memorials--from the writing and filming of those final shows. We grieved through the work."
Forrest Gump is one of those rare films that truly captured the imagination of the world. You can never predict when a film is going to do such a thing, nor would you really want to. Producers are always putting the 'elements' together; big stars, directors with track records, and safe storylines. With Forrest Gump - you get the feeling that wasn't the case. And even if it was; the success of the film and effect it has had on the world could never have been planned, or expected. To realize just how much of an effect the film has had-- go to a busy place right now and, after a few moments-- start running. You will undoubtedly hear, "run Forrest, run!". As anyone who likes to go running will confirm, this is not a rare occurrence. So what is so special about Forrest Gump? I feel an important place to start, when looking at Forrest Gump the movie, is to look at Forrest Gump, the character. To just say "he's simple," is to make a huge mistake. Within this simpleness there's a man who has strong morals, unyielding loyalty, and a heart of gold. What is striking about Gump is how he is void of prejudice and judgement of those he loves. Throughout his life he accepts Jenny for who she is. Often, through not knowing or understanding the predicaments she is in, but also because-- he sees past them. Likewise, his admiration and respect for Lieutenant Dan doesn't change after he becomes disabled. The film touches upon issues of race, throughout-- but with Forrest and his friend Bubba, it isn't a factor. So much so that when Lieutenant Dan asks them, "Are you twins?" -- Forrest's "We are not relations, Sir" is said without irony. For Gump, the reason why it's obvious they're not Brothers is because they're not related, not because one's black and one is white. Diversity is a big theme throughout the film. Not only with race; but even around the subject of disability, both mentality and physically. Lieutenant Dan is often angry at Forrest Gump, but never because of his IQ. One of the most profound moments of the film is when Dan and Gump take two girls up to their room; and Lieutenant Dan kicks the girls out the moment they insinuate Forrest is "stupid." It's profound because, we realize, the beef that the Lieutenant has with his friend is not based on his 'simpleness' or any of his character flaws; but merely, the complexity of the fact that Dan felt it was his destiny to die in battle, like all of his family - and of course Forrest was the one who stopped him from doing so, by saving him and leaving him crippled.
If Forrest is simple, and all of us with the privilege of fully functioning minds are the 'normal' and complex ones-- then it seems that what Forrest is lacking is the prejudice and hate that most of us carry around day to day. Like, for example, the student who is angry that they're letting 'coons' into the school, or the peace activist whose peace doesn't extend to Jenny, who he happily beats when he feels like it. I've read and heard many thoughts on the film before, where people have talked about how Forrest stumbles from opportunity to opportunity, through sheer luck. This is true, to an extent, but it's not the whole story. For example, it was sheer luck, or perhaps misfortune, that a man from the army handed him a leaflet-- but it wasn't luck that Forrest went back and saved all his comrades, or that he was consistently loyal to Lieutenant Dan. It's not all luck, it's not all chance. This is the beauty and complexity of the film--- the linking themes of chance and luck, mixed with the destiny you hold in your own hands.
"I don't know if Momma was right or if it's Lieutenant Dan. I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze... But I think maybe it's both... Maybe both is happening at the same time." -Forrest Gump
We can never really know why films connect the way they do. If someone could figure it out, then they'd be making magical films every single day. One thing we can be sure of - is that is certainly not happening. With Forrest Gump - one thing is for sure; there is a certain magic to it. A mix of talent and luck and accident; something came floating along the ether and landed in this film. You could analyze it to death and you would still miss something, because it has a magic within it that can't be named or labelled.
But there are things we can know by watching it. Forrest Gump, for all his simplicity, is really the type of person we all want to be. Someone who can see the finer things in life, someone whose preoccupations are friendship, love, and life. We'd all like to go for a run on a whim, or start up a shrimping business purely because we promised it to an old friend. Forrest lives the life few of us dare to. Whatever our excuses; be they work, life, family, lack of money, disability-- Forrest doesn't have them. With his last dime, he bought a shrimping boat. At a time when he could have focused on earning more billions, he instead decided to cut grass simply because he liked doing it so much. He makes life look easy, by making the difficult decision to do what he says he's going to do, when he says he's going to do it. And whilst most of us would agonize and analyze over why we do or don't do a thing, Forrest just gets on with it.
VARIOUS REPORTERS Why are you running? Are you doing this for world peace? For the homeless? Are you running for women's rights? The environment? Why are you doing this?
FORREST I just felt like running.
The most incredible parts of the film are the extremely tender, personal moments-- moments where there is suddenly an overwhelming, yet not over the top, sense of emotion. I can't think of many films that have achieved this in such a subtle way. And this is where those 'elements' really earned their money--- the expert direction of Robert Zemeckis, the beautiful music of Alan Sylvestri and the genius of Tom Hanks.
An example of this is when Forrest visits Jenny, and finds out he has a son. Forrest steps back, almost losing his balance. The way Tom Hanks handles this is impeccable. Whilst his performance might be memorable for more obvious moments, his acting in this scene shows why he deserved his Oscar. As Forrest stumbles over the question that scares him so much, "But, is-- is he smart? or is he..." - Hanks' is able to say so much, by doing so little. His body language, the awkwardness in his eyes and the way his tone of voice changes--- he brings a truthfulness and a vulnerability to the moment which is so rare in movies, but is essentially why most of us keep watching them (in my website header I say I am looking for a piece of me staring back at me, it's moments like this I'm referring to). You can't write these moments, you can't even really direct them and you can't purposefully act them. You can just get the right people involved, in the right place, at the right time; and if you're lucky, you get magic like this. (Skip to 2min 50sec if you want to get straight to what I'm talking about.)
Back to my original question - why is Forrest Gump such a special film? I really don't know. But it is. The movie takes us through some of the most iconic moments of recent American and World history, and touches upon difficult topics such as war, race, sexual abuse and a whole seas of prejudices. If the film teaches us anything it's perhaps that history is not a static thing. It plays out differently depending on the perspective it's seen from. And looking at the journey of Forrest Gump, it reminds us that we are present in the world. We can make a difference. And maybe simplicity, kindness, love and courage are the important things after all.
"My Mama always told me, that miracles happen every day. Some people don't think so, but they do."
Most trained actors have two distinct skills. One, is acting. The other, is moaning about rejection. I sympathize, I do. But there is a lot to focus on other than the rejection.
Take for example, a film I've just cast. For the lead female role alone, I had 300 applicants. 220 of those weren't applicable, they didn't fill what was needed. I didn't reject them; they just simply didn't read the breakdown. Many of these actresses will feel like they were rejected.
Then I sorted through about eighty possibilities. I had to think about where they were located, how they would fit with my potential lead actor, their experience, how friendly they are and numerous other factors. 'How friendly they are' is a big one. About forty of the actresses were either impersonal, seemingly disinterested, or rude. Disinterested may seem like a strange thing, you wouldn't expect it from a young actress-- but it's common. Or maybe it's disillusionment. It normally comes in a covering letter that says, "Hi Mike. I'm interested in the role, I have lots of experience, Lucy." To begin with, my name isn't Mike. Secondly, when someone is really interested in a role, they express it. So at this stage-- many actresses are either rejecting themselves, or rejecting the idea of being cast in the film.
I mention disillusionment because many actors, after, say 50 failed applications, start to take it out on the process and the person they're emailing. They may have spent a month writing beautiful crafted, inspired and personal covering letters to casting directors for various projects, with no success. That's sad, it's disappointing, but it wasn't the fault of me or my project; yet, the after-effects of the actor's previous failures show up in the emails I receive. World-weariness is not an attractive feature in a potential collaboration.
The audition itself is a fascinating process. I'm very aware of the strange rank that directors have. Whereby, I could be a car salesman by day, but if I call myself a Director by night; I am afforded a strange superiority in an audition room. Many Director's play up to this - making auditions difficult for actors. That's usually down to ego, or inexperience, or both in a Director. For me, I don't use this power - certainly not in the way many others do. Instead, I'm just excited. There are, say, seven actresses coming to read for us -- and I'm excited because, having filtered through 300 people, I've found seven of whom I want to meet and see if they're what we need in the film. Already, the seven actresses have achieved something incredible. Any actor who ever gets an audition should be aware that they are doing magnificently; they are rising far above the crop of literally thousands of competitors. The mere fact you have an audition means someone involved in making a movie sees something in you that they want in their project. The more you have online in terms of headshots, videos, and details, the more you can be certain of your success-- despite a chance to be rejected for your look, acting, experience, hobbies, height, weight, weird feet, whatever-- despite all that, you're wanted in the room. You are an amazing success!
The problem is: when I audition seven people for a role, I can only use one. By this point, myself and the people helping me cast need to figure out; what actor is right for the role? Do they fit the energy of the film? Will they 'fit' opposite the other actors? Do they have the right coloring to fit in with the family members we cast? Usually at this point, 3 or 4 are out of the picture due to various answers from those questions. Those that are left, cause much pain for casting director's because they're all so great, and everyone is divided on who to cast. "Cast Donna with Michael, they'd look so amazing together!" "No no no, cast Katharine, she's got that perfect face for a monster!" "Hold on, what about Eva?". Etc etc. What is happening here is not rejection, it's figuring out who fits, figuring out how to make it work.
So we cast Eva. But I want to keep in touch with Donna and Katharine. I email them telling them that they're completely awesome, and that we should definitely do something soon. Unfortunately, Katharine and Donna may very well see this as a rejection. Of course, they didn't get the role, and that's disappointing. But is it the big thud of rejection that they're currently feeling as they consider changing careers? It's not. They were WONDERFUL, it's just that I can only cast one person, and even though they may very well be perfect for the role, it just so happens that someone else has a similar nose to the person playing their Dad, or they have the opposite hair color of their partner, or the costume people just rang up and said we can have the bigger size monster costume for free as there's one going spare, or a million other reasons.
Rejection is the worst possible term you can use when you don't get a role. The majority of the time, it's not rejection. And if you insist on calling it rejection-- be aware, along the way to whatever particular rejection you received, were many many positives. And there is always one more time.
A couple of days ago I wrote an article Women, Men & The Film Industry. I am really grateful for the responses-- some interesting points were raised and are definitely in need of further discussion. However, I must say, I think at times I was a bit too vague about what I perceive to be the problem. So allow me to be a little more concise.
There is a voice that is MISSING from the world of film. And it is the voice of women.
Yes, Sofia Coppola made a couple of good movies. Yes, Kathryn Bigelow made THE HURT LOCKER. Both of these things are GREAT. But, they are exceptions. I am aware, also, that I am a male filmmaker. And I am aware that, industry-wise, I am not necessarily a 'success.' So I feel there may be many men like me, who have yet to carve out the careers we want--- so it seems odd to make a big thing about a 'lack of opportunities' for women when we ourselves are struggling for opportunities. That is a valid point and that is a discussion which I think we can have at some point. But this is an issue far bigger than my personal career.
For me to make a statement that we are missing the voice of women, that would of course insinuate that film is dominated by the voice of men. So what exactly is that voice saying? James D, in response to my previous article, said "Bigger films expect scantily-clad women and dashing men, but do women directors want to shoot that?". Another poster, Simon, said, "I think women are cut from the profession because the movies that draw in box office--predominately crap horror movies and romcoms--are unbearably sexist." I agree with these remarks. Of course, not all films are like that. But as generalizations go, these are pretty accurate.
I was holding an audition today for my next film. A friend of mine, an actress, is helping me cast. We were having a conversation about casting-- when she brought up, without my prompting or mentioning these blog articles-- a troubling experience she had recently with a man who was casting a short film. At the audition, he pushed her to do things that were not in the script, things of a more suggestive nature. And then, in the days that followed, he sent her many texts saying they should 'meet for drinks' to discuss the project. The more he told her about the project, the more troubling she found it.
The issue of the voice of women being missing in film, and the fact that so so many actresses have to deal with this bullshit in auditions and castings are NOT separate issues. They are connected, albeit at a distance. In the comments to the previous article it was great to see people engaging in a difficult subject, one that's hard to grasp and discuss because, it never really gets discussed. It gets mentioned, then passed over. I noticed in the comments, just like when I've talked about the issue with people face to face, there is a feeling that, "hopefully THE HURT LOCKER'S success will change things," or "Maybe actresses should be more careful," and these are very passive points of view. There's a feeling of helplessness. That for this issue to be taken seriously, Spielberg needs to deal with it, or Julia Roberts needs to start a campaign; rather than us exploring the notion that we play a part, as writers, directors, actors, bloggers, etc.
YES, the industry, even the viewers; tend to value scantily clad women. I won't lie, I loved Megan Fox in TRANSFORMERS. It wasn't because of her acting. But there is also a view that seems to permeate, a view that women, given the chance to direct, want to make Meg Ryan weepies, and movies about sisters coming to terms with grief. I think the point we need to wake up to is that, this is not entirely true. As it turns out, I, a guy, wouldn't mind making a Meg Ryan flick, and many women, as THE HURT LOCKER so aptly proved, have a lot more to say than the industry allows them.
I think, as an industry, we marginalize women - and, in the main, give them fluffy rom-coms to make. And we have a tendency to think that, if it's a big franchise or an 'important' movie, we give them to the men to make. I think this is wrong.
It is also true that nearly every young, upcoming actress, has had an inappropriate audition. Or maybe two of them. Or six. I have spent many years lecturing actress friends about their naivety, giving them tips on how to spot director's with bad intentions. But, actress naivety is not the problem. Just because you're a fresh, enthusiastic and beautiful 21 year old actress, it doesn't give men the right to abuse that. But they do, ruthlessly, every day-- across our industry. If any of you feel this is an exaggeration, perhaps I could get some actresses to give examples, even if anonymously, because the frequency of its occurrence would, I'm sure, surprise many of you.
My hope is that we can start to understand and begin to appreciate the depth of this issue. It's not simple, there are many layers to it. My hope is that, we can begin to see it as something that affects all of us and is caused by all of us. And my belief is that, by being more aware and by discussing it - we can begin to change things.
Joshua Malina is most known for his roles in THE WEST WING and SPORTSNIGHT. If you've never seen those; you'll almost certainly know him from his extensive television work. If not, don't worry-- you're in for a treat. Joshua Malina is, without doubt, one of the most underrated actors in the industry today. And as Malina hopes himself, as we find out in this interview - I am sure that we are going to see a lot more of his genius as a comedic actor and a talented writer in the very near future. If you want to know what it was like when Aaron Sorkin left The West Wing, or you want to know what it's like being a regular on a TV show or even if you want to know what it's like having Clint Eastwood save your acting career -- then read on. Joshua gives us a fascinating and personal insight into the life of a working actor.
KID: Do you remember when you first wanted to be an actor?
JOSHUA MALINA: Very early on in life my greatest ambition was to be a rabbi and a Good Humor man, but after that brief phase it was always "actor" -- probably from the time I was 8 years old or so. As a kid I was really into theater. I grew up in the suburbs of New York. My Dad's best friend was a major Broadway producer, and my dad was involved in a few productions. My mom was a musical theatre star herself in college. So I was always around it. I saw lots of shows in NY. I did camp and school plays, community theater, after-school groups, all that. It was what I liked doing more than anything else. And I always felt like that's what I was -- an actor -- so deciding to pursue it as a career was not a tough decision for me. I was spared the angst that a lot of people experience when deciding to go for it. I had an innate confidence that one way or another, I'd make it as a professional actor.
You began on the stage -- did you always want to do screen work?
I definitely always thought about doing T.V. and movies. I grew up loving great comic film actors: Groucho Marx, Gene Wilder, Chaplin, Walter Matthau, Lucille Ball, Gleason, Art Carney, people like that. I always thought I'd eventually work in front of a camera too. Now I sometimes look at my career and wish I had done more on stage before I sort of became a "T.V. actor." After doing so much theater as an amateur, I really haven't done all that much as a professional. After graduating from college in 1988, I became close friends with Aaron Sorkin, and he cast me in A FEW GOOD MEN, which opened on Broadway in November of 1989. That was literally a dream come true for me. I had fantasized as a kid about being on Broadway, so AFGM was a quest fulfilled and a series of experiences that I'll always treasure. Between the NY production and the national tour, I believe I logged about 750 performances of the show, playing a variety of roles along he way. There's no better substitute training-wise for an actor than a long run in a good play. When I moved to LA in 1992 I did a lot of plays in small theaters, but it wasn't long before my focus became T.V. and film.
Looking at how you started out in film, 'A Few Good Men,' 'In The Line Of Fire,' and 'Malice' - that's a pretty great way to start a career. You were working with some big actors - was it difficult?
Actually, working with actors like Nicholson and Eastwood was not difficult at all. It never struck me as intimidating; I just saw it as an opportunity to watch how they worked. And they couldn't have been nicer. My role in AFGM was teeny-tiny, but Jack was kind and complimentary. And I'm pretty sure Eastwood saved my job for me on IN THE LINE OF FIRE. I had one scene in which I drop him off at LAX. I pull up to the terminal, stop, he gets out, and we have a brief conversation before he walks off. Well, I had never driven a car onscreen before, and my head was spinning with all the information: Start here, drive there, land with your front wheels on the two sandbags, don't look to the left, etc., etc. Add to that the fact that Clint Eastwood was sitting in my passenger seat, and… on the first take I drove about 2 miles an hour, hit my spot, and we played the scene. The director -- Wolfgang Petersen -- yells "Cut," walks over and kindly says in his German-inflected English: "Yeah -- that was a little…wimpy. A little wimpy. Remember, you're a secret service agent. You're tough. You could probably drive a little bit faster." Okay. Take two -- I barrel-ass into frame and jam on the breaks as I hit my sandbags. In my peripheral vision I see Eastwood kind of planing back and forth as he absorbs the force of my short-stop. I immediately hear "Cut!" and someone runs over -- not the director, an AD maybe -- and starts laying in to me: "What are you, nuts?! That's Clint Eastwood you're driving! The star of the movie! You trying to kill him?!" Before I can formulate a response, Eastwood gets out, slams the door, and tells this guy "The director of the film just called this man a 'wimp.'" Of course he's gonna get in there and drive like that. That's what he was told do." How great is that? Clint Eastwood -- my hero. Classic.
I really liked your role as Tim Messick in 'From The Earth To The Moon.' Is it difficult coming into a project where you only have one or two small scenes to do? There must be a different kind of pressure to when you're a regular?
Absolutely. Counter-intuitively, having a smaller part can be more nerve-wracking than a big, meaty one. Early on, I had some roles that were just a line or two. You can really screw yourself up, obsessively running a two-line bit in your head. "From the Earth to the Moon" wasn't really a tiny role, it was basically one nice scene where I'm being interviewed about my part in the space program. I have a good monologue, filled with quite a bit of technical mumbo-jumbo. I count this as one of my strengths as an actor -- the confident recitation of shit I don't understand. When it was time to run the scene for the first time, I walked around the room, figuring out the blocking and said my bit. I finished and the director, Lili Zanuck, says -- in front of the whole crew -- "That sounded like you were just trying to say the words in the right order." Incredibly embarrassing! I had the presence of mind to tell her that that's exactly what I was trying to do, as it was the first time I had ever run a complex scene. The shooting proceeded to go fine, but for me it was an object lesson in bad directing. There's no reason to humiliate or set your actors on edge. To get the best final product you want to create a relaxed, comfortable place for your actors to inhabit. On a related note, Zanuck has gone on to direct only another three episodes of T.V. since 1998, so there you go…
How did 'Sports Night' come about, was the role written for you?
"Sports Night" was Aaron Sorkin's first T.V. pilot and he let me read it early on. I loved it and really wanted to play the role of "Dan Rydell." Josh Charles was ultimately so good as Dan, and most parts I've played are so different from him, that some people can't imagine I was up for the role. In truth, it's my kind of character and I did come close to getting it. I was at Hollywood Park on a poker binge as I waited to hear the news. Aaron called me and told me it wasn't going to happen. I was pretty crushed, but I'm good at bouncing back. I was somewhere in the bouncing back process a couple weeks later when Aaron called and said "Hey, do you remember the role of 'Jeremy?'" In the original script, Jeremy was much younger and had a more peripheral role. Aaron started to pitch me on the idea of his tailoring it to me. I interrupted him and said "Aaron, if you're asking me whether I'm interested, of course! I'll play anything you got for me." Aaron re-wrote the role and I went in to read for Jamie Tarses and Stu Bloomberg at ABC. Felicity Huffman and Sabrina Lloyd had already been cast and in a gesture of kindness I still appreciate, came in to read with me. It was Jeremy's interview scene from the pilot. Twenty years into my career, I am still very poor at auditioning, but this was an easy one. It was an incredibly well-written, brilliantly funny scene that had been created for me. If I couldn't nail this one, I had no excuse. I felt like the audition went great. I walked out into the hall, and a couple minutes later Aaron came charging out, picked me up and held me aloft. I said "Either you're saying I got the job, or you suck at delivering bad news."
What are the challenges of being a regular on a show?
I wish I could tell you it's a big challenge, but it's not. Being a regular on a T.V. series is a very cushy gig: learn the lines, hit your marks, collect big check. Not much to it. Sure, the days can be very long on an hour drama, but that's why they call it "work." I hate whiney actors who piss and moan about how difficult their jobs are. Ditch digging is hard. Television acting is a cakewalk.
I think one of your unique qualities is having a certain humor and charisma about you, and that's something that comes from you, not the character on the page. Is this something you're aware of?
That's an extremely kind thing to say. I appreciate it. I've been fortunate, though, that the characters I've played longest -- "Jeremy" on SPORTS NIGHT and "Will" on THE WEST WING -- were inherently funny on the page. I think there's always a through-line of humor to Aaron's writing. Maybe as a result of that, I am always looking for the comic aspect to whatever role I'm playing.
And whilst I certainly meant that last question as a compliment, I wonder - can it be a limitation? Could you play the role of a President, or a Mafia boss?
I do think I can play a greater variety of roles than I have thus far -- not sure whether President and Mafia boss are among them, though "consigliere" I can do. Typecasting is a real thing, for sure. If you are seen doing one type of role then Hollywood is probably going to look to you for more of that. It cuts both ways too. I'm sure I am on Smarty-Jew-nerd lists, and that helps me get work. But most of us get into acting because we're drawn to the idea of playing an array of characters, and I'm a bit disappointed that I haven't been able to broaden the range of roles I'm offered. I thought I'd come out to LA and book a sitcom, or play the crazy supporting comic guy in films. Hasn't happened. Maybe as I slide further into my 40's, I'll finally become the comic character actor I've always imagined myself to be.
It was great to see you back with Aaron Sorkin in 'The West Wing.' For me, it's the greatest TV show of all time. You came along at an interesting time, only a season before your friend Sorkin, and Tommy Schlamme were to leave the show - what effect did this have on the cast?
It had a big effect on the cast, for sure. It caught everyone by surprise -- bit of a bombshell. I remember the cast being really rocked. There was a big meeting with Tommy and Aaron. There were a lot of tears, and some protestations along the lines of "If you guys go, I don't want to do the show anymore!" On a personal and creative level, I was extremely disappointed to hear they were leaving, but on a career level I was thinking "Easy now, people. I just got here. Let's not do anything rash…" So sure, Tommy is one of the great Producer/Directors out there, and for my money, no one writes like Aaron. But I give credit to John Wells and the writing staff for keeping TWW going as a really great, quality show for the remainder of its run.
There was a definite shift in the writing, and I noticed that a lot in your character. Did it seem different to you?
Yes, character and plot-wise, Will Bailey underwent a real shift. He went off to run the campaign of V.P. "Bingo" Bob Russell -- a move that caused many of The West Wing's hardcore fans to vilify the character. It's funny, I still deal with fans' anger towards Will! It amuses me. Shortly after John Wells took over, he asked me to come talk to him. He explained that he felt that Will's story had played out a bit, and that as an alternative to becoming repetitive, or to writing the character out, they had come up with the "Bingo" Bob scenario. I said "sounds good to me" and left, thankful that John had figured out a way to keep me involved with the show. I come from the school of acting in which you pick up the script, learn your lines, and show up prepared. I don't really think it's my job to weigh in on storylines. And honestly, I don't care much whether my character is good or noble or heroic or a douchebag. My character is the guy who says the things the writers have him say. It's that simple. So, would I have written the same story for Will? Maybe not. Would Aaron Sorkin have written it the same way? Definitely not. But I think the writers continued to write great stuff for me, and that they wrote Will's arc in a plausible way.
Focusing on a few more questions about the life of an actor -- how do you find most of your work?
As I've mentioned earlier, I am -- sadly -- not the King of Auditioning. I'm not sure what it is. I just find the process mortifying. I have a real fear of overacting, and as a result I think I almost always underplay things at auditions. Aspiring actors out there, heed my call: "Underplaying does not get you the job! Make a strong choice and go for it!" Twenty years in, I still need to process this rule myself. In any event, I do occasionally book things in the room, but most of my jobs come in the form of offers from people who know my work already.
Acting is so tough to get in to - what is the difference between someone who makes it and someone who doesn't? Is it luck, or is there a character trait that makes the difference do you think?
Sad fact: There is a huge amount of luck involved. There just is. Subtract my relationship with Aaron Sorkin and I don't know whether I'd be a professional actor. That said, I do believe there are many other factors that contribute. One really important character trait is confidence. So many actors lack it, but if you don't think you're good, why would you expect someone else to be taken with you? You have to believe in your own talent, and let that belief carry you through the avalanche of rejection that comes with pursuing a career in this field.
What is the difference between working on television and film?
I have worked far more in the former, so I'm no expert on the subject. But as far as the work goes, I find them very similar. Acting on camera is acting on camera. It's the trappings that are different. Film work carries a certain attendant glitz with the fancy locations, the premieres, and so on. But television work strikes me as a much better and more stable job for a husband and daddy, which is what I am first and foremost.
What are you currently working on?
I thought you'd never ask! I am extremely excited to be in post-production on a web series for SONY's Crackle.com website. It's called BACKWASH, and I wrote and produced it, and I star in it with Michael Ian Black, Michael Panes, Noah Emmerich, Lindsey Kraft, and Joe Lo Truglio. It also features supporting work from a host of amazing people (most of them old friends): Jon Hamm, Sarah Silverman, Hank Azaria, John Cho, Steven Weber, Jamie-Lynn Sigler, Allison Janney, Dulé Hill, and many more. It's directed by Danny Leiner ("Dude, Where's My Car, "Harold & Kumar"), who is fantastic. It's a 13-part comedy about three losers who inadvertently rob a bank. It's kind of an old-school, slapstick romp. I had an absolute blast making it. It should start airing early this summer. Rather than go on about it here, let me plug my blog. If anyone is interested, they can follow the project here: http://blog.crackle.com/tag/backwash-blog/. I'm also posting a lot of info on Twitter, so please follow if you like: "@JoshMalina."
What else would you like to achieve with your career?
I do want to keep writing, creating material for myself and others. I sold a sitcom pilot to CBS this past season that I wrote with a friend. It didn't ultimately get made, but I'd like to continue pursuing that goal. As I mentioned, I'd really like to establish myself more firmly as a comic actor. I want to find (or create) that balls-out comic role that has thus far eluded me.
When I started out in filmmaking, I made many short films on zero-budgets. I was that guy who would go out and shoot with his camera and no crew. The films were, for the most part, pretty decent-- and I showed a lot of promise. I had always promoted the idea that films, especially short films, didn't need to cost much money; if any at all.
Fast-forward a few years, and I was still making short films with just me and a camera. The quality was improving somewhat, but I hadn't made the leaps I perhaps felt I could have done. Looking back it is very obvious why-- I wasn't doing everything I could be in terms of collaboration. I was still shooting myself, I didn't get a Director Of Photography. I would still handle the sound myself, rather than get people who knew what they were doing.
For years I have had the knowledge and contacts to be able to put a little crew together, but it hadn't happened. The reason being, that voice inside me that would tell me "you're not ready yet, maybe a couple more films.." or "No crew is going to take you seriously." It's very strange, but now I realise, not uncommon-- to have these two sides of your personality battling each other. On the one hand, there are times when I have lacked confidence, been unsure of how others perceive me. But at the same time, I have always had an unwavering belief in my abilities and knowing this certainty that, one day, my films will be loved by many people.
I have a lot of friends who are actors, and every single one of them has this same process at work. On the one hand, they've done all the courses and gone to all the auditions; they're like a powerhouse of ambition and self-belief. But there is also the flip side to this-- a deep insecurity; something telling you you're not quite good enough for the role, or that you're not quite ready. Strangely, sometimes as an actor you DO get the role. And then the actor feels like they've cheated the system. They're just worried that one day somebody will figure out that they weren't supposed to be there.
And, one day not long from now, my looks will go, they will discover I can't act and I will become some sad middle-aged woman who looks a bit like someone who was famous for a while.
-Anna Scott in 'Notting Hill'
My personality has never really been one that seeks approval. I am generally happy for people to think what they want of me, and I wear my terrible clothes and sit in my room listening to Springsteen records, I'm happy with myself. But when it comes to my creations, there has often been the need for approval. The notion of being 'discovered' or of getting money to make a project, is subject to somebodies approval. It is at the very heart of what we do. The battle to prove we are worthwhile.
Of course, the simplistic advice we get is "be more confident." But I think we need to go further than that. We need to be more confident, but without the need for anybody's approval. I know a novel writer who, upon publishing his first novel, absolutely blitzed everybody on Facebook, on emails, etc-- begging them to buy his book. "Read me! Love me! Help me!" I could totally understand it; it's a pattern that certainly isn't alien to me. What could be worse than putting your heart and soul into your book, only to have nobody to read it come the end? Well, a worse thing would be putting your heart and soul into a book, forcing everyone to check it out, and still having nobody to read it come the end.
I spend a lot of time talking to successful people. I always like to know what makes them tick. In the field of filmmaking, and in other circumstances. What I find in most cases, is that the achievement comes when you stop fighting, and just create instead. Just yesterday, I was speaking to a theatre writer who struggled for years fighting to get her projects made. Then, for a few years, she went and had some kids and lived her family life. Before she knew it, people were on the phone, practically begging her to do projects. Likewise, the novelist I spoke of now quietly writes his books and screenplays, and is finding less resistence from the systems he used to feel oppressed by.
Look at it like an arm wrestling fight. If you are fighting the other person, you're going to get a lot of resistance. But if you loosen up, the fight loosens, and before you know it you have the ease and the energy to push forward. I am not talking about giving up, I am talking about changing your relationship with what you are trying to achieve.
So far I've talked about two things - self-confidence, and fighting to achieve with your creative pursuits. They are linked more than you might imagine. When you are trying to 'make it' as a writer, actor, director, etc-- you are entering into a system whereby you're offering something up, and the system can say 'let's make it!", "you've got the role!" or "we're not interested," "you're no good."
But that system, and by system I mean, the industry, the people who say 'you're worth our time' or 'you're not worth our time' is exactly the same as the inner process going on in your mind. Your script, or your audition, is the same as that voice in your head saying "this is what I want to do with my life." And that person who can say "Sorry, your writing is crap" is exactly the same as that voice in your own head, that tells you "your writing sucks!"
So why do you expect people in the industry to love your script when a part of your very being is telling you that it sucks? The naysayers in the industry are just an extension of that part of yourself that tells you you're not good enough. That's probably why you hate them so much, because they remind you of you.
To really understand the person who has the power to reject you, you really need to understand the part of you that rejects yourself-- or at least, your work. Maybe there's some great wisdom in that voice. This, for me, is where the limitations of those 'positive thinking' books come into play, because they try to override your negative feelings, rather than learn from them.
I believe you become successful when you are ready for it. I have found throughout my life that where I am, professionally and personally, is directly related to where I am in my head. And as I've become more aware of this, things have really transformed. I think that most people who have reached their desired level of success will tell you they did it at a time when they finally figured something out about themselves.
Self-confidence can come temporarily from listening to positive-thinking-guru type stuff. But after a while, you need more than that. You really need to look at your inner critic, at your insecurities; and find out what motivates them. That voice telling you 'you suck!' - where does it come from? Why is it there? Why do you sometimes trust it more than the confident version of you? What can you learn from it? What positive things can you take from that inner critic?
I know that my inner critic is pretty strong-- it's always there and it knows what it wants to say. I actually admire those qualities. What a great thing to have, perserverance and definiteness. That's something that it is teaching me. I should be as strong as that negative voice in my head. Come to think of it, having perserverance and being definate are two things that will really help me excel even more with my career.
This is something we can all do, starting today. Build a new relationship with the thing that zaps at your confidence. For me, next time I have a meeting or interview; instead of nerves or feelings of lack, I'm going to have new found perservence and definiteness, something that was always in me. Afterall, who the FUCK is my inner critic? Why am I taking him so seriously? Why do I believe him? What gives me the right to talk to me in that way? I know what I am doing with my creativity; of that I am sure, and I am going to perservere. And this new certainty has come from engaging with my inner critic, and learning from it. When something is part of you, you can either fight it, or learn from it and work with it. The same goes for external systems, like producers, film studios, script analysts, etc! Fix the thing inside yourself, and then you're going to do much better out there. I'd love to know your thoughts.