The Audition
Michael Laskin as Franz Altman Altman’s Last Stand
The brave new world of virtual auditioning (in contrast to traditional in-person auditioning) often encourages results before process. This is fundamentally backwards. Here are some thoughts and ideas about how to confidently navigate that new reality, encouraging you to take further agency over your work. My advice is to spend less time consumed with what “they” want and change that narrative to what do “you” want—in the scene, the career, and in your life.
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Chapter 8
The Audition:
Most actors have at least one thing in common: nearly everyone has a love-hate relationship with auditions. If one designed a minefield for actors, it would look a lot like the typical TV or film audition – which I used to call “office acting”. However, there’s virtually no showing up in an office anymore (heavy emphasis on the word virtually). In the last few years this exponential change has ushered in a sea change to this necessary and crucial aspect of the actors’ life.
But this much remains unchanged: there is little preparation time or meaningful guidance, with messy logistics, and often generic feedback—if one gets any feedback at all. Consequently, we often don’t feel that the audition experience lets us fully show our talent. It can feel more like target shooting in the dark.
Much of what’s put forth in my book is evergreen; the basic tenets of the actors’ journey continue to remain relevant to finding personal and professional fulfillment. And maybe with a little luck, success. But auditions have undergone a massive shift in the years since its original publication. Let’s talk about that.
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What has changed:
There is almost no person-to-person contact anymore. When actors actually went to auditions in person, we had human transactions with the casting director, the reader, and often the director and producer of the project. Additionally, actors often built significant professional relationships based on those in-person meetings. That rarely happens now, and it’s a real loss for both sides. Prior to Covid-19’s shutdown of the industry self-tapes were already becoming more common. But the pandemic added jet fuel to that trend. Self-tapes became essentially the only way an audition could take place. Then casting offices got used to it, and so did actors (sometimes reluctantly), but not without a cost. Consequently, this is now the new norm.
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Results Before Process
Taking a step back, actors are largely process-driven artists who have always had to function in an essentially results-oriented business. This natural “friction” can be frustrating at times. But, necessity being the mother of invention, it can also be a springboard to becoming better…faster. With today’s auditions, we must find the essential truth of our character, the scene (s), the overall story, and our role in that narrative faster. This is a significant challenge, but it can also open the door to a kind of magic based on good first instincts. Under the best of circumstances having to get to the result faster—in effect truncating our process—can sometimes pull us out of overthinking or overworking the material we’re given. Fair warning: this is not a job for perfectionists! It’s a constant balancing act between over-preparation which can sometimes deaden the work, and under-preparation; leaving room for new discoveries “in the moment.”
In this new world of self-taped auditions, the actor has had to become his or her own cinematographer, editor, sound engineer, lighting designer, and costumer. That learning curve for some is quite steep, especially for older actors. But adapt or die, as the saying goes.
At the end of the day, this lack of human-to-human contact is a significant change for both sides of the casting equation. For example, in-person casting sessions often allowed actors to receive an adjustment in real time. After our initial read of the scene we might be given a note or two about how to approach the audition material differently. That not only was an opportunity to show a different approach to the role, but equally as significant it also allowed our colleagues on the other side of the desk (casting, director, producer, and others) to see if the actor can take the note, and make the desired change. This offers a glimpse into the actor’s malleability, as they asked themselves:
· “Can this actor take a note and make it actionable in real time?”
· “Do we want to work with this actor?”
· If this actor becomes a series-regular, are they someone we can live with for a few years?
With the absence of human-to-human contact in the audition process, these crucial factors are essentially no longer on the table.
To be clear, most actors like being directed. We enjoy notes, and welcome getting suggestions about how to approach the material in a new way. That opens the door to our process. But given the limited information actors receive with the audition material, we are often doing what I call “educated guessing”. Thus, we end up presenting the result without benefit of an interactive process. It’s backwards, and it’s all moving very quickly.
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The Self-Tape Turnaround
How does this play out? An actor will receive an email from their representative with an audition. This email consists of the specific scenes they’ve chosen for the audition, and sometimes includes the entire screenplay. It will also show the key people involved:
· Casting office
· Director
· Producers
· Screenwriter
· Studio or network
It always includes a rundown of the basic storyline and a brief description of the character. Because those elements are created by someone in the casting office who may (or may not) have a thorough grasp on what’s at play, sometimes the character description is useful, and other times not. But if it’s an audition for an already existing show the actor can research the show, and even watch an episode or two to get a feel for the tone and genre of the world they are expecting to inhabit in their self-tape.
All those tools are helpful, to be sure, if the actor has enough time. But there’s always a deadline involved, and that’s where things can get tricky.
I routinely conduct audition coaching sessions with actors in person, but mostly these days on Zoom. It’s not uncommon for an actor to have an audition that consists of three scenes, 10-12 pages, with a 24 to 36-hour turnaround. This makes all the prep work like watching an episode or two, researching the writer and director, and actually having the time to read the full script quite difficult—not to mention the significant challenge of learning 10-12 pages of dialogue. And if, heaven forbid, the actor has a work shift that evening you can subtract even more precious hours from this process. So, we often end up having to guess at what the casting director and others might be looking for. And to be frank, there are times when even they don’t fully know, taking more of a “we’ll know it when we see it” approach.
Once we email the final tape in, we can usually tell if it was downloaded, but have no real way of knowing if they watched it (part of it? all of it?). Did they have notes, or thoughts about how something might be tweaked in a new direction.? Results before process: actors have become used to this. It’s not a good thing. But it is a thing.
In the UK, they’ve taken a different approach, which I endorse. Actors are given a four-day minimum for a self-tape turnaround, with a maximum length of six pages to learn. This is a more humane way to approach the issue. There has been talk of implementing similar standards here in the US, but so far…no dice.
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The foundations of audition success—in any format
Let’s take a step back and look at what the audition actually is, from 10,000 feet up.
If your talent is like a lyric poem, then think of TV and film auditions as a haiku; a type of poetry that creates a vivid experience with very few words. A haiku doesn’t say everything, but it says enough. And it hints at even more.
Another way to think of it: if a full performance is a painting, the audition is the detailed pencil sketch. The challenge for actors is to create a sketch that intrigues people enough to want to see what the full painting would look like. That necessitates communicating your point of view, your understanding of the text, and your blink-of-an-eye factor in that very short space of time. Your highly focused point of view and personal indelibility can help to cut through the sameness that casting directors experience when screening multiple auditions. And if you can fully bring that to your auditions, you may get the chance to show them the fully realized “painting.”
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Seven elements for bringing your authentic self to any audition
Given all these obstacles, how can an actor hope to cut through the noise, make a lasting impression, and possibly book the job, especially in this new climate? And, how can actors stay focused through all the little indignities and inconveniences that can completely undermine self-confidence? Actors who regularly succeed in auditions do several things that you can implement, regardless of the format:
Treat every audition opportunity as a job. Prepare for it and conduct yourself with that inner narrative of professionalism.
Give a title to each scene in the audition. For example:
· “Discovering the real enemy”
· “Time to make a choice”
· “I have to tell her today”
An actor can’t “play” the title, but it frames each scene in a way that helps define the purpose of the scene in the overall narrative. In our rush to get these auditions memorized, filmed, uploaded, and sent, we can sometimes lose sight of the story; that story that we’re hoping to be a part of. Never forget that story is all important.
Explore ways to dynamically begin the scenes by being in the flow of “the moment before.” For example, what just happened prior to the start of the scene? What was the conversation (often not on the page) that informs where the scene starts? Was there some prior physical event that you must acknowledge—a gunshot, a tire screeching, a creaking door? Improvisation is very helpful in this process. You can always improvise your way into the opening moment, and then simply edit out that which is not in the script. This allows you to enter the scene informed by the “moment before” —at 50 miles per hour rather than from a dead-stop.
Identify what I call “change moments,” which are the changes within the scene. Every scene has them, even badly written scenes have changes and shifts in focus. Human nature dictates that we want to see and experience how those changes impact your character. Identifying and understanding these markers in the scene helps you to create a personal roadmap for the scene and your character’s purpose within it.
Ask yourself this: what can YOU bring to this story that no one else can? That’s a big ask, but it is key. To fully showcase your indelible self, you must find a moment in the material that is unique to you. In the professional ranks talent is a commodity, so your personal world-view often ends up being a key deciding factor. It’s easy to become overly concerned with what “they” want because many of us are programmed to please, and seek affirmation. I suggest we spend more time and effort about what we want, what our character wants, and what we can alone we can bring to the story.
What is the physical world your character is inhabiting? Are you in a public space? A private space? Are there consequences for being overheard? Even though you essentially only have a close-up shot, all of this has to be considered and creatively suggested in the self-tape.
Can you discover a unique way to end the scene? The beginning, middle, and end structure is embedded in our nature as far back as Aristotle! If we keep focused on always serving the story, and infusing our unique perspective into the story—we’re on the road to succeeding at this difficult task.
Really? All of that? Every time?
Ideally, yes. But we’re human. We come up short some days. Anger, disappointment, and the occasional beating-up-of-self are part of the mad bargain of pursuing an acting career on those days. It’s essential, however, to get past that—and get past it quickly. The actor’s “head game” is at least as important as talent, and sometimes even more so. A healthy mental approach is what enables you bring all of yourself into the transaction—and make no mistake, auditions are transactions. As an actor, I know this from the inside. As a coach and teacher, I see it clearly from the outside.
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Roadmap of an Audition Scene
Every audition is an opportunity to communicate a compressed, immediate, and dynamic version of yourself and your character—one that the casting directors get the minute you walk through the door (or in today’s parlance, enter the frame). This requires unwavering self-confidence in a landscape that’s constantly trying to undermine that confidence. Again, this mandates a healthy, balanced, and thoughtful mental approach.
Scenes chosen for TV and film auditions usually showcase some important change, conflict, or dilemma in the character’s arc. These are moments that define the character. Those who view your tape want to see and feel those changes and conflicts.
Yes, auditions must be intelligent, smartly strategized, and feel “lived in”—but at the end of the day they are a compressed experience. That doesn’t mean fast. But it does mean emotionally immediate; from the first frame.
Bringing your personal truth to the scene helps to create a playable “roadmap” of the audition material. Every scene (or series of scenes) has a natural trajectory, easily discovered by paying close attention to where the scenes change and where your character’s goals in the scene might shift or transition. These “change moments” dictate the obvious choices. But I would also encourage you to consider the less obvious choices. Since the end viewers of your work will have seen these scenes over and over, they might welcome a fresh and different approach, as long as it retains fidelity to the story. This is rather obvious stuff, but I am often surprised that so many actors seem to ignore it or miss it entirely, usually because they have to work too quickly. Increasingly, ours is a “last-minute” business where granular details can be overlooked because of time constraints.
Bottom line: like water flowing downhill, the trajectory of a scene (or scenes) will find its direction naturally. And, given the fact that there is so little preparation time many actors will, by default, settle for the most obvious choices. But the actor’s job is to honor what the writers intended while still imbuing the material with as much of their personal DNA as they can. This means also finding the less obvious choices—choices that are intelligent and unique to you but still serve the needs of the scene.
What is the scene about? Start with the obvious, then open up your thinking to large concepts or ideas. Is the scene about jealousy? Guilt? Honor? Sex? Is it a seduction? A negotiation? You cannot actually play these concepts, but this macro-perspective gives you the freedom to see the scene from the outside and understand its function within the story. Then in the playing of it, I would encourage you to discover even just a moment or two that allows you to play the scene on the “margins of the page,” metaphorically speaking. Due of lack of time or (more likely) lack of imagination most people will play in “down the middle.” Assuming they still serve the story, the less obvious choices can open it up in new and dynamic ways.
Great actors don’t make obvious choices.They make personal choices that (if well executed) can become indelibly great choices. They look for and discover values that go beyond what the scene appears to be about. The less obvious choices can be a springboard to greater depth and detail in your work, and open up the scene in unexpected ways.
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Find and earn your moment
In The Godfather, Marlon Brando’s “Don Corleone” has a scene where he explains his idea of friendship and loyalty to the undertaker “Bonasera.” As this quietly threatening scene unfolds, he affectionately pets a cat perched on his lap. Did Brando plan this? No. That cat was a stray that lurked around the Paramount lot, and serendipitously found its way onto the soundstage, and into the scene. When “Don Corleone” quietly makes points about loyalty and revenge his gentle stroking of the cat creates an unforgettable duality about his character.
Can you bring the “metaphorical cat” into the audition with you? Not literally. But you can always look for that unique opportunity in the scene, something that is fresh, original, unexpected, and personal to you.
The cat’s presence on the set was a “happy accident” but would have meant nothing without Marlon Brando seeing the opportunity it presented and making an unexpected choice. Was this serendipity or genius? Perhaps it was a little bit of both.
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The Audition is Your Job
Let’s be honest. We all want the job! We want that phone call telling us we have an offer. If we didn’t want it, we wouldn’t be human. But beware the turn from wanting it into desperately needing it. There are many external factors that can push the actor into that place of desperation:
· You need one more job for your SAG-AFTRA insurance.
· You sense your manager is losing confidence in you.
· Your kid needs braces.
· Tuition (for both kids) is due.
· You haven’t booked in a while and your momentum is stalling.
· Your significant other is giving you a lot of pressure to get a “regular job.”
When actors bring even a whiff of desperation into the process, the audition is over before it even started. End the “please pick me” narrative and see every audition as a job in and of itself. Period.
In fact, you have a job—it just happens to be a ten-page, three scene self-tape due on Tuesday at 9:30 am. And you actually may get a chance to do that job again for money, on a soundstage, or on location. But for now, the self-tape is your job. My belief is that it’s your role—until it isn’t.
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Who are “They” and What Do “They” Want?
Trying to find out what “they” want can be a fool’s errand. Yes, there’s a character breakdown, and within that are several hints about what the casting people indicate they want. Take from that what you can, but I find that it’s equally, if not more important to think about what you want.
Here’s the reality that I learned the hard way about the mythical “they”:
Whoever “they” are, they sometimes don’t truly know what they want.
What they think they want can be fluid and changeable. Sometimes even in the casting process they are also “in the moment”.
Like ours, their process can be subject to compromise and chaos.
And, as cliché as it sounds, they’ll know it when they see it.
The liberating conclusion is that what they really want is for you to solve their problem. What they’d love to see is someone with a unique personal fingerprint, mated to skill, professionalism, intelligence, and preparation. They want to check this casting problem off their list and move on to the next.
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Show them who you are
A young actor once came to me for help with an important audition. He was consumed with trying to show them everything he knew in a few short minutes. So many emotional colors! So much talent! Such range! He wanted them to see it all. It was exhausting for him and strangely ineffective for me watching him. In his quest to show everything, he was showing virtually nothing.
I finally said to this young actor, “This is all wonderful, but who the hell are you?” He was momentarily stunned. He much preferred hammering away at surface dynamics rather than reveal something of himself. And without that revelation it all just becomes a little dance that is, in the end, forgettable. All the talent in the world rarely overcomes a lack of personal connection.
We want results. We crave acceptance. If we jump through enough hoops and dance faster than everyone else, we’ll get both, right? That’s generally a hard no. The missing element in all this is always you. Yes, show them all your tricks—get a gold star in your workbook. Get an “atta boy” from your agent. There are dozens of actors before and after you who will do the same. But none of them are you. That is your super power. So, if you show nothing of yourself, you’ve drastically short-changed the transaction. It’s your job to somehow deepen their perception of the character, the story, and thus become the solution to their problem. You do that by inviting them to your party.
Make it personal. Show them who you are. Take that risk. Have fun. This is true of auditions, job interviews, and lunch. If you don’t enjoy it, no one else will.
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Set your standards—take the risk
Make no mistake: The audition is a transaction in which you are an equal. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like that, but it’s absolutely true. Your point of view is valid, or you wouldn’t have been invited to showcase it in the audition. But your first duty is not to please them and be “liked.” It’s easy to get lost in the pursuit of pleasing them, but that’s a path to rarely pleasing yourself.
Your first duty is to dynamically bring the character to life in a way that’s personal to you and honors the intent of the writers and the world they have created. If you enter the transaction with anything less than that, you devalue your work and waste everyone’s time. Blunt words, but this is the truth of the matter.
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Pretend
The last time I checked, you’re an actor. Pretend! Pretend you are confident. I’m 100% serious. I firmly believe in the value of arbitrary action; it can take hold and start to become your new narrative. I’ve seen it in myself and in others.
I’m not saying it’s easy to create this confident narrative, especially with pressing real-life needs that muddy the waters. But, as in most things staying “in practice” builds your creative muscles. It will get easier the more you do this work fearlessly and with a deep personal connection.
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“If you should choose to pay me, this is how I would do it.”
That’s a strong inner narrative. Create your own version of this mantra, something that embodies confidence, and positions you as an equal, not a supplicant. You are the solution. You are a collaborator.
So, let this truth set you free: take the big creative shot. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Rejection? No. Humiliation? No. The worst that could happen is that your work is mediocre. Sometimes even being wonderfully wrong is far better, as it can signify that you’re a risk-taker, an explorer, maybe even an artist.
Focus on doing great work to your own standards first. Their standards may be amazingly high or amazingly low. Frankly, it doesn’t matter. Your standards have to become high and remain high. So, invite them into your world.
One of the very best auditions I ever had was for Joel and Ethan Coen, reading for the role of “Stan Grossman” in their iconic film Fargo. Rather than being intimidated by the fact that this could be an “important” job, career-wise, I simply prepared it my to own standards completely. I brought my work into that room pretending that was happening in the scene was, in fact, happening to me. They laughed. They were surprised. They were engaged. They said, “That was great. Terrific work. That’s a new way of looking at him. Very, very good.” Did I get the role? No. Did I do exactly what I wanted? 100 percent. Would I have done anything differently? Absolutely not. My job was to illuminate that character in a way that was personal and unique to me. Not a booking but, within the larger story of my life as an actor, I consider it a real success story and a personal teachable moment.
So, rather than wondering what “they” are looking for, ask this: What are you looking for? Prepare the audition that leaves you thinking, “I’d hire me.”
Ultimately your job is to be indelible. Unforgettable. That’s it. What “they” want is you. They just don’t know it yet—and will never know it unless the authentic you becomes part of that transaction.
To be clear, I am not advocating being obstinately tone-deaf to what people in the casting world want (or think they want). Look for clues—absolutely. Get a feel for the world you are entering—certainly. But never lose sight of the fact that your personal take on the work, your artistic contribution, is valuable, valid, and needed. It’s really all you’ve got that distinguishes you from the crowd. Consider how this clear-eyed acknowledgement of your value might be integrated into not only into your career but also your life. Justify that empowerment with dedication: if you fully engage in this process as an artist, what “they” will want might very possibly be you.
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Filming Your Audition
Although the talent business is still largely based in Los Angeles and New York, film and TV production is everywhere. Tax incentives are taking productions to places like Louisiana, Georgia, New Mexico, and Vancouver. The global cinema business has thriving industries churning out productions on every continent. Not being in the same room as the casting director is no longer an impediment to getting yourself seen for those far-flung roles. For example, Hugh Laurie shot his audition for his iconic role in House in Namibia from his hotel room.
Filming your audition does give you more control over the result. You have the opportunity to get it done to your standards, shooting enough takes until you feel you’ve got it where you want it—provided you have the time. No longer do you have to feel like you have to nail it in the room on the first take. To some extent you can take more time with the process, honing it until you are happy with what you’ve sent off to the producers, wherever they may be. You can leave those “I did my best take in the car on the way home” days behind you.
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Perfect is the enemy of the good
It’s certainly true that with self-tapes we are more in charge of the final product. However, be aware that this is not a task for perfectionists. I have seen actors do their best work on takes one or two and totally lose the performance by takes seven or eight. It’s quite easy to lose your freshness and your judgment by overworking the scene.
I suggest you have someone you trust artistically (a coach, an acting teacher, a significant other) be a part of this process. Your preparation should be the same as if you performed this audition in an office in front of real live people at Netflix. Your work still needs to be examined and ready by the time you are going to shoot—just as it would by the time you walk into that room on a studio lot. But, as Voltaire and many other philosophers over the centuries have advised: perfect is the enemy of the good. Remember this when filming your auditions. Perfection can also be the enemy of freshness, a sense of discovery, and nuance in your work.
Technical note: it absolutely does matter how good your audition looks and sounds. Find a way to shoot in the most technically advanced way possible within a budget that makes sense for you. Amazon is your friend in this, offering superb technical solutions that have become very affordable and readily available. The latest smart phones have better cameras than ever, and they’re continually improving. You can also find specialists who tape auditions for actors, some of whom are quite good. If you can afford this route, it takes the technical challenge out of your hands and gives you more time to focus on the actual creative work in the audition. Either way, doing a top-notch job with the technical side of the self-tape provides one fewer reason for a casting director to say “no.”
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Shooting strategy: understanding your frame
In today’s auditions, we are all ultimately dealing with a frame on a screen. When shooting, look for unique ways to utilize the frame. The eye always takes precedence over the ear, so entering the frame (if that makes sense in the scene) is often a smart way to dynamically gather their interest in the first moments. Doing a slight purposeful move into the frame can also be a useful way to emphasize a key moment.
As my colleague at my acting studio, John Redlinger, says: “Put a camera into your life every day.”Are you rehearsing a monologue? Set up your smartphone and shoot it—just for you. Just start playing around with it. You will start to learn the north-south-east-west of the frame and how even tiny moves can illuminate a significant moment.
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Face to Face
I once had a meeting with director Stephen Frears for a role in his film, The Grifters. I was told to prepare nothing. “Mr. Frears just wants to meet you.” In this instance, I realized that it was assumed that if I’d made it this far, I’d already been vetted. But he still needed to meet me. He wanted to feel my presence in the room, human to human.
When I was escorted into his office, he was laying on a couch after lunch, crumbs dotting his sweater. He was an amiable and rumpled presence, like an unmade bed. He just chatted with me while he sipped some tea. We spoke for at least twenty minutes, a good and substantive conversation about everything but the film! He just wanted to see me and feel who I was. On that basis, I was cast in The Grifters. What is it about meeting face to face that so powerfully attracts (or repels)? It’s beyond words. Literally. And it’s beyond self-tapes. Hopefully one day we’ll get back to this, but in the meantime become the best director of yourself that you can be.
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The Ups and Downs of Feedback
In today’s new world of the self-tape audition, getting feedback is almost non-existent. That said, feedback continues to remains a near-obsession among many agents, managers and actors. But feedback can be a mixed bag of useful and meaningless. A lot is lost in translation from the scribbled notes of a casting director that get passed on to their assistant to your agent or manager to you. Take it all with a large grain of salt. That said, do look and listen for consistent patterns in the feedback. “She’s way too serious about herself.” “He’s not listening in the scene.” If you get a consistent note like this, then it’s time to pay attention, consider and correct. Bad patterns need to be addressed. But don’t be afraid to leave the rest behind, especially if it’s distracting you from what’s next. Move on. Focus your attention on the road forward.
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Let it go!
What do you do after an audition? Let it go. I suggest giving yourself a 24-hour grace period, at the most. Try to put it behind you and move on to the next. Fretting over it and obsessing about it accomplishes absolutely nothing. In fact, it feeds your sometimes-simmering anxiety. Trust me on this, let it go. Assuming you brought your very best to the work at hand, you will either you get the job or you won’t. It often has nothing to do with you, or how you might have auditioned.
There are forces at play that we know nothing about. For example, I auditioned for the HBO film Winchell, a biopic of legendary gossip columnist and reporter Walter Winchell. I went in and read for the film’s director, the brilliant Paul Mazursky. The meeting went extraordinarily well. He was digging my take on this part. We laughed and seemed to have an immediate shorthand with each other. Paul gave me several adjustments and worked with me in great detail. I left there thinking, “I’ve got this, I nailed it.”
My agent followed up, and we heard nothing. He followed up again a few more times in the ensuring weeks. Nothing. Radio silence. Sometimes Hollywood’s way of saying “no” is simply saying nothing. I started second guessing my memory of the audition. Did I misread the situation? The only thing I could do was forget about it and move on. I did, and nearly a year later I got the call. I booked the part. Huh? Where were they for the last 12 months?
I later found out that some key elements had fallen through that significantly delayed the production. The script was being re-worked, and they had a new star to play “Winchell,” the superb Stanley Tucci. These certainly weren’t things they needed to discuss with me. While I was experiencing their silence, they were managing their own version of the chaos it takes to get any film or TV show made.
So, to those who obsess about feedback or results, I say again: Let it go. It’s out of our hands, and there are unknown forces at play that swirl around projects and affect their destiny. I wasn’t wrong about my first meeting with Mazursky. We did connect, but I had no idea what else he was dealing with. We can only control what we can control: our work, our attitude, our dedication, our professionalism. And once in a while, what you let go it can come back to you.