Droplets of Hope

A Booking

Balancing work as an actor, getting self-tapes and callbacks done while sliding in other non-creative paying gigs is a tricky business. The last few days have been like that.

‘Urgent’ or last-minute requests for a self-tape are becoming de rigueur. Self-tapes are the first stage of auditions that I shoot, edit and submit from home. This was one of the many ways the pandemic changed our industry. When I get the last-minute news that I have a callback (usually an in-person audition at the Casting Director’s studio), it can be a scramble to get someone to cover my work shift — losing out on a day of pay for a opportunity to act.

Usually, I have 12- or 24-hour notice before a callback. Recently, I had less than 8 hours to rearrange my life. I managed to beg off work early and asked my agent to get me a slightly later audition time. I jumped in my car and focused on ‘good vibes’ to get me safely to the casting office an hour + away in good traffic and there’s rarely ‘good traffic.’

I might sound like I’m complaining. I’m not. These are wonderful ‘problems’ to have, even if they do make my heart pound with anxiety.

I managed to get to the casting office only slightly late, but they knew to expect that (thanks to my wonderful agent). I walked into a packed waiting room and smiled to myself. They were auditioning for three different commercials simultaneously, which included families with small children, women my age, teenage young men, younger ‘mom’ characters, etc. The only thing missing was a selection of dogs and cats.

I immediately relaxed, knowing that being a few minutes late wouldn’t be noticed. There was nowhere to sit, but someone shuffled a bit, and I slid in next to a woman who was clearly auditioning for the same role as me. I asked her how late they were running, and she replied her call time was 3:15 pm. It was now close to 4:00 pm. I laughed and relaxed while she and I chatted. About 30 minutes later, she was called into the audition room.

I felt bad for the families waiting. Pre-school and school-aged kids in snowsuits and heavy coats ringed the room. They were all quiet and incredibly well-behaved. Total pros. This was clearly not their first audition.

Finally, I was called in with three young men auditioning opposite me.

The nervous energy was palpable. I took many deep breaths as we listened to the director’s instructions. It’s gratifying to hear compliments as the director works with you, redirects you and then says, “Great.” Actors live for that. We assume that the longer they work with you, the better you’ve done. It’s not always the case, but it is a story we tell ourselves.

Leaving the audition room, I felt positive. It means nothing except to me. I did my best, and I responded openly to the direction. I leave it to them to decide if I am the right fit: height, weight, race, age, look, etc. Other than my actions in the room, the other pieces are out of my hands.

As I exited, the young woman who was organizing the talent in the waiting room asked me to stick around for a moment. There might be other young men playing ‘John’ who needed to audition. I was the last ‘older woman’ aka ‘Edith’ left in the waiting room.

“No problem,” I said.

The door to the audition room opened, and one of the people evaluating the talent popped out. She was carrying my ‘head sheet’ (the summary of my availability, potential conflicts with the product, photo and measurements). She spotted me, came over and introduced herself as the producer. She asked if it would be okay if they made my hair look more grey on set as it is too dark. I said, “Yes, of course.” The producer smiled, nodded and walked away. Hell, paint it whatever colour you like, I thought.

The young woman at the desk said, I could go; they wouldn’t need me anymore. I was buzzing. Um, did I just book that job?

I gathered my coat and boots, which I’d stashed under a bench, bundled up and headed to my car to make my way home in rush hour traffic. I didn’t care. That soupçon of positive feedback would last a few days, perhaps weeks.

The traffic wasn’t completely horrible. Even if it had been, I felt light and at ease. I had a good vibe about this one.

I craved junk food. I rarely give over, but I did pick up some onion rings and a Beyond Meat burger at the A&W near my house. No root beer this time though it was tempting. I snuggled up on the couch and scarfed those needless calories. I loved every moment.

Later that evening, at about 8:00 pm, I got a ‘Hold’ email forwarded by my agent. A hold is when you are one of maybe two people being considered in the final stage of casting. We are asked to hold various dates for the wardrobe fitting, and often several dates that may or may not be necessary for shooting. Casting also re-confirms that there are no conflicts with other products in the category like Financial, Clothing, Medical, Paint, etc. They don’t want you to appear in a commercial for a competitor. It sucks because it means that you have to decline opportunities in a category for a year or more.

I went to bed amped — not a good state to be in when trying to sleep. I reminded myself:

There’s nothing more I can do; it may not go your way.

I wondered if the nice woman I chatted with got the job. I wondered if one of the ‘Ediths’ who was in the audition room for twenty minutes got the job. I wondered whether my instinct was right about booking it.

The next day passed slowly. I obsessively checked my phone for any messages from my agent. I shared my audition story with her and her assistant, which they appreciated. We are a team, after all.

I mentioned the hair-greying comment from the producer but acknowledged that it could still go in another direction. I was grateful for the opportunity they helped create. They cheered me on. They believe in me and are rooting for me.

We waited.

Finally, at 3:00 pm, we got the ‘Booking’ email. Again, quadruple checking availability and product conflicts, along with a note verifying whether I would be willing to have them do a temporary hair colour for the shoot.

Yes, yes, yes!

All of this happened within about 72 hours — from the self-tape request to the booking. This is a rare event. Often, it takes weeks, prolonging the torment of “Did I get it or did I not?” Usually, you just never hear. Even after a hold. The date of shooting comes and goes; you hold dates in your calendar and you just never hear. That is hard. The tv industry invented ‘ghosting’.

Every veteran actor will tell you to, “Do the audition and forget about it”. But I’m gonna say, it’s really tough to do in reality. I’m always grateful for the opportunity to submit. I can only control what I do, not what they want. I have fun, I put a little of myself in every self-tape, and sometimes, I’m what they want. More often, it’s not.

I can’t help but cling to those little droplets of hope. When these moments do turn into work, I drink deep, knowing the next opportunity may be a long time coming.