Showing posts with label rejection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rejection. Show all posts

Thursday, 27 May 2010

Auditions & Rejection.

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.


Care to share?

Friday, 12 February 2010

Criticism and Rejection.

A couple of years back, I met this musician. We were getting along really well, talking about each others projects. And we were both into the whole 'positive thinking' thing, and we were talking about how we hate all the negative people and all that stuff. We were like, y'know, everybody the day after they've just read 'The Secret.' It was all very inspiring and touching to have found a friend -- and I remember telling her how I hate the way that people can be belittling. What always really pissed me off was when people would say "how are your little films going?" and "Are you still doing the filmmaking? Still giving it a go?" It would always get to me. The musician woman agreed, she hated all that too. And then she said "what are you currently working on?"

"I'm just doing this little short film, nothing serious," came my reply.

"Aha!" she said, "just a LITTLE short film!" I was doing to myself EXACTLY what they do to me.

How could I expect others to think of my work as important and brilliant if I myself saw it as 'little' and 'nothing serious.' That's not how I see my work, it's not how I feel about my work - but I realised that, so often when talking about it, I put myself down. I started thinking back to screenings where there have been Q+A sessions. I always handled these Q+A sessions really well, I guess I was quite likeable because I'd always do this "I'm a little nobody making films and having fun" schtick, but it didn't really serve me that well, really, because I was putting myself down needlessly.

If you observe what you hate about the judgements and criticisms you receive, you can be pretty sure that you give them to yourself far worse. Just ask any actor heading into an audition. The Casting Director really doesn't need to judge the actor's acting, because the actor already has. In fact, most of the time, after auditioning for only six minutes; an actor will have, in their head, a definite perception of what the opinion was of their acting talents, height, weight, look, voice, personality. When rejection inevitably comes, it's usually because the person wasn't right for the role. But the person rejected knows the 'truth' - that it was because they're overweight, too short, with small breasts, weird eyes, a deep voice, and because they were boring. No-one else can really reject us when we're like this, because we do it to ourselves, over and over and over again.

The seeds of rejection get placed every day, moment to moment, in really subtle ways. I think we all have this successful version of ourselves that we dream about who sits on the Letterman couch, and playfully talks about their work like they're Tom Hanks promoting their latest flick. Yet we see this version of ourselves as who we'll be when we're ready/better/successful/had surgery/gained confidence/got rid of rustiness.

Not that the when-I-am-famous version of you is a complete waste. You should fantasise about it, really FEEL it. Feel what's it's like to have the role, be holding the award, spending the money. You'll probably feel relaxed and at ease now. You need to take that back with you to your audition/first draft/interview, because that's part of you, that's who you are -- you need access to that now rather than the self-hating, nervous-wreck you've become.

Take a moment to think of the criticism or way of being rejected that hurts you the most. And then notice how you do it to yourself. Criticism is painful. Really painful. But when someone tells you/implies that you're a wasteful, talentless, no good piece of shit - it's not really them that's hurting you, it's you, because deep down - you've feared those very things all along.

It doesn't have to be this way. Spot that voice in your head, the one that criticises you and second guesses you. It's like this.

I want to play that role.
You're not attractive enough. You're not interesting enough.

I am writing a screenplay about the NYPD.
What the fuck do you know about the NYPD? You're pathetic. Everyone will see the holes in your script!

I want to get back into acting again.
You're not ready! You're too much of a mess! You're rusty!.

I want to direct a feature.
you're not quite ready.

I want to think about directing a feature.
you're not quite ready.

I want to be a costume designer.
you're not quite ready.

Nobody is quite ready. You're only ready when you do it. It's just getting over that belief system that is the tricky part.

I speak like I'm an expert, I'm not, I am more than capable of smashing myself to pieces every single time. I guess all I'm saying is, to the rest of you, you're not alone, and we should talk about this stuff. And perhaps we should realise; it isn't earthquakes, genocides and terminal illnesses; it's film & TV. We should get up off the floor and go to the stuff that our inner child's demand.

Care to share?