Being a supporting actor is one of the toughest things to do in this business. Trust me, I know. I just finished a run of a play where I was playing a supporting role ... a role that supported another character who had less than ten total lines in the script. The show? Well, my memory gets foggy about such things, but I seem to recall that it's title was The Ben Show. It starred my good buddy Ben as a crazy, homeless, alcoholic schizophrenic who ... actually, I'm not sure what he does. I know that most protagonists in plays have a journey they take, but I honestly am not sure what Ben's journey was. I think it had something to do with licking the floor, drooling and getting his ass kicked by the female lead. I could be wrong ... I'm not good with these sort of things.
There's an old adage that "there are no small parts, only small actors." For those of you who may not know, that adage is complete and utter BS. Ask any actor who has played Montano in Othello and they'll tell you, "Hell yes, there are small parts. And small boring parts to boot. Even in Shakespeare!" Ask anybody who's played Spear Carrier #1 while doubling up as Citizen #4 if there are any small parts. Some acting instructors (sometimes I'm amazed that there are such things) tell actors playing smaller roles to imagine that it is their play, that they are the star, that their journey is just as, if not more, important than anybody else's in the show. My response? Sure, if you want to have a cast full of folks running around doing their own thing without any regard to the actual story that's trying to be told, then knock yourself out. Serve the play. Didn't somebody famous say that?
Now, Ben, if you're reading this ... no need to chug a protein shake and come kick my ass ... it's all in good fun. At your expense, but good fun none-the-less.
Ben is one seriously dedicated actor. I give him mass amounts of props for that. He put every single fiber of his being into this character he created. He twitched and drooled and spoke in a voice that was a little incoherent and sounded like Scooby Doo after smoking two packs of Camel unfiltered cigarettes. He licked alcohol off the stage, chewed on the buttons of my raincoat, barked like a seal and danced a little Russian jig center stage. He rambled about not being a fairy, licked me and then later spent a brief moment dry humping my leg. He created a fully embodied character ... the character's purpose, I'm less sure of. He drooled streams of ... well ... drool, I guess ... and occasionally reminded me of the dog from Turner & Hootch. In fact, if they ever decide to make a sequel, they should give Ben & I a call because we'd be a perfect team. I have pretty decent comic timing and have worked with animals before and Ben can drool like a ... well ... a drool machine of some kind, I guess. Not to mention that I think he just might be color blind.
Industry
One so dedicated to his craft is bound to be discovered sooner or later. Discovered where and how is a different story, but the point I am trying to make is, that if you take this "art" (I refuse to not use the quotation marks) that seriously, then you probably take your career that seriously. And that is why my buddy Ben, and others like him, spend an inordinate amount of time trying to make the right connections. What makes the whole thing all the more difficult is that New York is filled with the wrong connections who pass themselves off as right connections. (You with me so far?) Some guy who directed a student film his junior year at NYU and is about to graduate is not necessarily the right connection. Nothing against student films, I love them, but I'm thinking that Francis Ford Coppola probably doesn't attend a lot of their screenings. Some teenage kid who claims to manage male models is probably not going to further your
career. Doesn't mean it won't be a lot of fun hanging out with the kid, but let's keep our expectations halfway real. New York is a giant fish bowl ... which means there are many, many bottom feeders out there. We need them. They keep the tank clean.Frankly, if you're in this business to become a star, get rich, be discovered ... then you're in it for all the wrong reasons. A very prominent casting director (who years and years later became a very good friend) once told me, "if you can live doing something else, go do it." She also told me that it pissed her off to see actors at an audition for all the wrong reason knowing that they just might take a role away from somebody who needs it. Needs it. Not "wants it," but "needs it."
What's my name!?!?
Then again, if this acting thing is all you think about and it conflicts with things that should be more important ... love, family, loyalty, etc. ... then you need to get your priorities straight. You don't see accountants who think of accounting every waking moment of their lives. Acting is a
passion, but one that must be tempered with the other joys life can bring. I can't stand actors who can only converse about acting. I can't stand actors who call you and invite you out, just so you can introduce them to your friend the agent. Climb the ladder on your own merits, guys ... and when you get to my rung, don't think I'm gonna let you pass.If you're an actor and you don't have a favorite color, get one.
Acting Instructors
If you have an acting instructor who has told you that you're not ready to audition, get another one. Last year I was in a position to be casting for a show and saw literally hundreds of auditions. Some were great, some miserable and many forgettable. But there was one that stuck out in my mind.
Near the end of the casting process a man in his late 20s walked into the studio. He was tall, handsome and charming. We chatted for a moment before he did his audition monologue and I couldn't help but think that this guy had all the tools to really make it in this business. Then, just before he began his piece, he informed me that this was his first audition. He had been taking classes somewhere for 18 months, and his instructor had just informed him that he was ready. And then the life drained out of this charming, handsome man. For the next two minutes he proceeded to bore the hell out of me. You could just tell that his instructor had driven whatever talent this guy had right out of him ... in the name of "realism" probably.
When he finished I asked him if he was nervous. He admitted he was. I told him to take a few minutes and try again. I did my best to set him at ease. I gave him some direction and really tried to instill a level of comfort in him. After a few more minutes, he began again. The performance was the exact same. It was as if I had recorded the first audition and was now playing it back. All I could think was, "if this guy had started auditioning 18 months ago he'd probably be appearing in major feature films by now." What harm can come from hitting some auditions? Sometimes experience is the best teacher.
Trends & Apologies
I just noticed that I have a trend going on here in my last couple of blog entries. They have all been about the theatre, acting and my thoughts and opinions on those topics. Yikes! I need something new to write about. Well, pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training next week ... 'tis the season! For all of you non-theatre folks (God bless you, where would we be without you?) my apologies for the recent string of entries.
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