A Starving Artist on Preparedness

So, I went to another workshop with a casting director the other day.  It was super great, super informative, and it may have been the first one in the history of the world to run long.  Like by a lot.  ... An hour over time.

These things don't happen.

Needless to say, this casting director was 175% invested in us, and I appreciated her for that.

I could go on and on about how totally candid she was, how much she emphasized the importance of making only super bold choices when auditioning ("Why would I ever want to see you do only what's on the page?   I already know what's on the page, and now I'm bored with it.  Show me how clever you are."), how much she harped on the lack of professionalism in actors and how that will always trump talent (I completely and totally buy that), the fact that I think that I kinda kicked ass (you know, fun fact, but not entirely important), lots of things, I could say lots of things. 

Instead, I'm just gonna cite this one moment in the workshop for you:

There was this one gal in the class, & she was beautiful and exotic looking, she was dressed beautifully and exotically, and she had a beautiful and exotic sounding voice to boot.  OH!  And she had this beautiful and exotic name, too.  Bitch had The Package.  She was given this scene featuring two women, one was a spokeswoman for a dildo, the other the host of the infomercial featuring said dildo; each woman had two lines apiece, and she was expected to give each role a try.

"These characters only have two lines, so you only have two lines to make a lasting impression with me," said the casting director, "Be bold."

(Sidebar:  I had the same scene, so I was taking notes.  Lots.)

Dildo Spokeswoman was fine, kinda sexy, kinda weird, but fine.  When it came time for her to give Infomercial Host a try:

"OK.  So do it again, and this time, think Kathie Lee Gifford."
"Who?"
...
"Wait.  You don't know who Kathie Lee Gifford is?"
"No."
(No way.)
"Wow.  OK.  I don't know, am I dating myself with that reference?  Maybe."
"I don't...I don't know."
"OK.  Do it again, and think Kelly Ripa."
"Who's that?"
...
...
"...You're kidding."
"No.  Should I know who that is?"
(YES!)

And the casting director just stared at her in complete and total disbelief.

"Kelly Ripa.  From television."
"Oh.  ...I don't really watch television."
...
...
...
"You don't watch television?"
"No.  I mean, not really."

...

Let's take a moment to discusss why this is so bad.  Actually, let's do a little comparitive-thingy. This is much like if the following people said the following things:

Wannabe English Teachers:  "I mean, I haven't read any Shakespeare or Kurt Vonnegut.  Or To Kill a Mockingbird.  I don't really read."

Wannabe Musicians:   "Who's Milli Vanilli?  Who's Jack White?  What's an iPod?"

Wannabe Car Mechanics:  "I melted one of my brother's matchbox cars once.  So...I guess I've kinda taken a car apart."

...No.  Just No, to all of it.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T WATCH TELEVISION?!"
"Well...."
"YOU WANT TO BE AN ACTOR AND YOU DON'T WATCH TELEVISION?!?!"
"I go to plays."
"NO, but...POP CULTURE!!!  HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IS OUT THERE?!  HOW ELSE DO YOU KNOW WHAT'S RELEVANT?!"
"I do."
"You DON'T!  You don't.  These women are all over TV, and in every sort of magazine, for better or worse."
"...Oh."

And my heart kinda started to hurt for her.  Almost.  I mean, if we're being honest with ourselves, I don't watch nearly as much TV as I should.  I don't have time to.  And people say that it needs to be almost like a second job for Starving Artists, watching TV, going to movies, reading plays, all that jazz (...pretty decent second job, right?).  We have to immerse ourselves in everything that's out there so we can find our fit.  That's what's expected of us.

But, GOOD! CHRIST! 

"Guys, you need to do your homework and know who's relevant, who's been relevant..."
"...Um..."
"...Who's out there at all...."
"...Um, excuse me?"
"Yes?"
"Can you tell me something about these women?"

And this casting director, this casting director who's been doing epic amounts of shit in New York City for twenty-plus years just sat there for a moment and stared at her.

"...No."
"But..."
"That's not my job."
"OK.  Can I try it again?"
"No.  You're done."

And you knew that didn't just mean "You're done with your scene".   The girl had been written-off.  There will be no phone calls, there will be no auditions, she didn't come in prepared and, just like that, a potential professional connection had been destroyed.

And we all watched it happen.

And it was sad.  And kinda terrifying.  And you think about it, and if someone gives you only two lines to make a lasting impression, that's a lot of pressure on anywhere between one to twenty words.

But, I guess the twenty scripted words aren't the most important thing.  I guess it's the grand whole of your First Impression that lasts.