So. Acting class. We … acted. We did scenes, we did monologues, and we had a lengthy Q&A session with our teacher about "The Biz." Several times during the discussion, I had to stop myself from yelling, "What are we doing? This is the stupidest life, ever!"

God. We went into painstaking detail about what outfit to wear to an audition, how to shake someone's hand, how to smile ... and these really can be make-or-break aspects of your career. Stupidest. Life. Ever. I could've said it out loud and received many nods of agreement, but I didn't think that would go over terribly well with my teacher, a prominent casting director and unabashed perpetuator of said Stupid Life.

OK, so ...

I'm sure you've heard of "type." There are some actors who transcend "type" due to talent, but honestly, precious few of them are American and even fewer of them are of my generation. Only on the BBC will you see ugly actors, whose physical ugliness is not an aspect of their emotional character. They are quality actors who happen to be somewhat ... asymmetrical.

My acting class was made up of many types.

(Emboldened are some generic, yet genuine, characteristics that are often thrown about when discussing actors, especially in terms of casting.)

THE MEN:

Lance was the old guy. He doesn't have any professional acting aspirations, but is very active in community theatre, and he will have no trouble getting cast. He is so sweet, and nervous, and thus sympathetic. Every time he got onstage, everyone was rooting for him. (Wow, that's really patronizing.)

Brad was the young, cocksure leading man, particularly appropriate for musical theatre. Brad has a manly physique, and is conventionally handsome. Fine, classical actor, if a little broad. He is working, and will continue to work. (Two words for Brad, though: BLACK SOCKS. Jesus. You don't have to read GQ to know that black shoes and white socks make you look like a schmendrick. Oh ... and two more words Brad might want to consider: HAIR PLUGS. Don't think I didn't notice the beginning thinnage. I don't mind, personally ... it's The Biz. And the amount of time you can create the illusion of thick hair through excess gel-floofage is decidedly finite. You understand.)

Keith was the fit, good looking gay man who could play “straight.” That sounds awful, but it really is a legitimate concern. (Something funny: Keith mentions on his resume that he's a "Botanical Artist" because he thought "Florist" sounded "too gay." Hm ... he's right ... "Botanical Artist" sounds downright butch.) I was at an audition for "The Crucible," and God ... the number of effeminate John Proctor's that audtioned ... yeesh. There's no way to ignore it, it just doesn't work. Just like I couldn't take Linda Hamilton's role in T2. Anyway, Keith's in his 30s but looks 25, and is a very experienced, talented, natural, and versatile actor. (I could tell he shaved his chest though ... I saw the stubble, and I giggled to myself. Doesn't that itch?)

Kevin was the early-middle-aged, perpetually florid, blue-collar midwestern type, who was probably really good looking about 10 years ago (around the time when his closet, tapered jeans and all, stopped evolving). If you've ever read Arthur Miller, David Mamet, or a number of other American "Common Man" playwrights, you know that "early-middle-aged, florid, blue-collar" is a very viable type. And, he's believable. A beginner, but has a lot of potential. (AGAIN with the patronizing.)

Greg was ... a little, quirky guy, very smart, late 30s/early 40s, who looks a bit like a happy owl. Again, there are a lot of roles appropriate for him. He's got presence, and the Shepard or Bogosian "crazy" thing down cold. However, Greg's a businessman and a scuba diver who just takes acting classes for fun. He doesn't audition, and doesn't show much interest in it. He owns a chocolate shop, and brought truffles to every class. We like Greg.

That's it for the men. Keep in mind, that regardless of type, The Biz and The Stupid Life is much easier for men. Not that I've ever been a man in The Biz, but, trust me. The biggest asshole male actors I know will admit that they'd hate to be a woman in showbusiness. There seem to be far fewer categories for women to fall into, thus casting is harder and less forgiving. You’re the femme fatale, the girl-next-door, the rebel, the matron … or you’re fucked. I’m sure you’ve heard this crap before. Tiny violins, I know. Tiny violins.

THE WOMEN:

Amber is in her early-20s and fresh-faced, but she can also do the punky/dark thing. She's somewhat taller and larger (though by NO MEANS "fat") than many actresses our age, so she'll probably have to wait awhile to get work. She also needs some more training, but we're talking about "type" here. She's smart, and interesting, and talented ... but hard to place in "type" at this point. It was said of her last night, "You have a face that could sell soap," and "In 10 years, you'll be the perfect suburban mom." Uh-huh. Oh, and I, personally, think Amber has great clothes.

Rachel is early-20s, tall, slim, quirky, funny, and attractive. She's also a good actress, with great timing, she's incredibly sweet, and takes direction very well. She'll do fine, I hope. She looks like alot of the girls you see on TV ... in fact, I think she did a Tampax ad recently. She is the perfect type for our age, and you know, it makes me happy, because she's just starting out, and I think she'll be great.

Sarah is early-20s, little, smart, funny, and kind of dark. A bit "older" in presence than her physical type should be, so she will also have a hard time getting work for awhile. Also very sweet, but your first impression of her is that she's a bit sarcastic and cynical ... get to know her, and you'll find out she very warm and genuine, but it's all about the 1st impression. Sarah is tiny and naturally beautiful, but was once asked by a casting director if she would be willing to shave her hair into a mowhawk, dye it green, and "lose as much weight as possible" before a show. (The girl is tiny!) Sarah said no. Sarah is working as a receptionist for a jet-fuel company.

Melissa is mid-20s, little, and beautiful with a great speaking voice and a very solid, believable presence. I could lose my entire pinkie finger in the dimple on her right cheek. She's got talent, has had a lot of training, and is, again, perfect for her age and very castable. Yay, because she's also really sweet. She's getting auditions up the wahzoo. She'd make a great ... say ... Emily in "Our Town," could be in a lot of Shanley plays, lots of stuff.

Shana is late-20s/early 30s, funny, and smart. She can really nail a scene, and comes across as intellectual and comedic. I'd say she's just "growing into" her type. She can now, genuinely, start to play the older women characters for which she is "suited."

(You know, I am not bitter about other actors being more attractive than I am, though it may sometimes come across that way. The only time it really pisses me off is when an actor is blatantly devoid of talent, and his/her success comes only from his/her looks. Anyway …)

Then, there's me. Because this is my diary, narrated from my head, I am going to write about myself at much greater length than I did about anyone else. I have not yet become a stereotype for myself, thank God. I think I’ll ask my friends to be on the lookout and, if/when I do become a parody of myself, to make life-sized cardboard stand-up posters of me to display in liquor stores and movie-rental places, to remind me how utterly ridiculous I will have become. Once I come to my senses, we’ll gather all the posters into a pile and have a ceremonial burning. Bring your own headdress.

So … In talking about strengths and weaknesses, my teacher told me that my biggest downfall is self-doubt. Yep. However, she emphasized that when I am confident in my approach to a scene, when I don’t freak out, I have a tremendous “POWER.” Power. That’s cool. Then, a bunch of my classmates told I seem so much older than my actual age … and “old soul” thing, apparently. See, I always thought that I got the old lady roles because I was fat. My self-image is admittedly rather twisted, though, so if you told me “Hey, green’s a great color on you,” I might choose to interpret that as “Hey, you’re fat.” Christ, that’s annoying. Nope. Not fat. Just mature. And POWERFUL. Grrr.

My teacher (Erica) admitted that while this maturity and groundedness may make it difficult for me to find roles right now, it also makes me interesting, and will, in the long run, make people want to work with me. I guess that’s true. I have to stick it out.

Kevin (floridly) said that he was impressed by my presence, especially because I’m only 24 and am “so together.” I was like, “Ha. If only you knew.”

Keith (straightly but gaily) agreed that I have a POWER and intensity that he’s seen throughout the class, and that when I have confidence in the scene and myself, that he “can’t stop watching me.” I respect Keith’s opinion because of his talent and experience, so this is wonderful to hear.

Then Keith said, “You’ll be fine.”

Bland as it may sound, that’s one of the most encouraging things to hear from another actor. If someone tells you “You’re going to make it,” or “You have nothing to worry about,” or “You’re going to be famous,” don’t believe them unless you’re related to Hollywood royalty or you own a production company. I’ve had a number of respected, seasoned actors tell me, “You’ll be fine.” It means that if I have the tenacity to stay true to my POWER (are you annoyed yet?) and to stay in the game, I will be an actor. Not a star, maybe, but an actor.

I have something. I don’t have an “it” … I am not, and never will be, an “it girl.” But I have a Something all my own.

There is still the game to contend with, though. I mean, take all those emboldened terms, simplify them a bit, and picture thousands of actor headshots filed away according to "male" and "female," and sub-filed according to emboldened trait. That's your average casting office. That's the game. If you win the game but have no spark, you are a whore. If you win the game at the expense of your spark, you risk becoming a whore. Keep the spark, but play the game … that’s a challenge.

It can be difficult to stay with it once you recognize that it is, in fact, a Game, and that the extraneous circumstances working against you are completely inane.

You put your whole self in, you put your whole self out, you put your whole self in, and you shake it all about … and, that’s what it’s all about. Sometimes.

~ Last Five Entries ~

Moths, and Relative Nonsense - 08.18.05

I Finally Have Internet Access in my Bedroom. But, No Ashtray. - 08.09.05

Here I Am - 08.02.05

One-Armed Paper Hanger Earns her Wings - 07.29.05

Sugar & Lemon - 07.28.05

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