Buntport Theatre is a gift of the gods! Their lampooning of Sophocles’ Greek tragedy “Electra” is a delectable ambrosia.“Electra Onion Eater” proves once again that the demigods over at Buntport have the recipe for turning the most tragic tale into an evening of theatre that’s an Olympian laugh riot! Anyone who saw their send-up of Shakespeare’s “Titus” knows that.The genius of this troupe is that they are able to sublimate ego (Really? I know!) and collaborate in the writing and directing in order to bring forth shows that are somehow sublimely smart and sensationally silly.This one is sort of a tragedy of the geeks that gives us a mash-up of contemporary sit com and advert jingle while providing a nudge and a wink to the mask which uneasy wears the frown.Hannah Duggan is the magnificently breezy and carefree matriarch, Clytemenestra.
Erin Rollman is her hysterical (and hysterically funny) daughter Electra who, continues to grieve for her dead daddy Agamemnon by cryin’ like a rat eatin’ onions. Erik Edborg is Orestes, Elektra’s long lost bro.In this glimpse into the dirty laundry of one of the original dysfunctional families of Greek theatre the Buntport crew has brought in guest artist Andrew Horwitz as friend of the fam, Brucey-Goosey.Even if you have never heard of Sophocles’ “Electra” No Worries!
The show’s so tight you get it all right from the start.This show comes with the highest of recommendations from this reviewer’s desk.— David Marlowe, November 8, 2013. Whether it’s a wake for Prospero or a wake-up call for us all, “Wake” leaves lots of head scratching in its wake.The reason this reviewer is so late with this review is that every time I sit down to write it a whole new level of interpretation arises and I begin to ponder that one.So I will just tell you, dear reader, that this work is rich and can be mined at a number of different levels.When a patriarch dies leaving only fragmentary instructions on the living of life on the island on which his daughter and slave abide a sense of malaise sets in. Miranda is lonely and bored.
Caliban is tethered and tantalized by an invisible (to him) spirit named Ariel.The boat the late patriarch predicted does not arrive. The skies don’t “pour down stinking pitch.” Nothing ever seems to happen according to the mysterious words of the old one.Prospero is now a ghost who haunts the island. His words instructing his daughter Miranda that all things are ordered in Life forbid her to listen to the end of his soliloquy-now only on tape in the tape recorder he has smashed.
These final words are only audible in an incomprehensible garbled gibberish when the tape is pulled through this broken tape recorder.“Is it real or is it Memorex?” runs through one’s mind. (sorry!)This amalgam of Shakespeare and Beckett and Buntport is engrossing to say the least. The creativity involved in the conception and execution of Buntport Theatre’s new show, “The Roast Beef Situation,” is inventive genius par excellence. This is no surprise since it has been conceived, directed and acted by some of the brightest comic lights in this theatre community. They are: Erin Rollman, Erik Edborg, Brian Colonna, Hannah Duggan,and Evan Weissman.
It is an honor to get to see the works with which these artists are blazing trails of comedy and dram-edy here and now in Denver.This latest in a series of comic plays gives censorship a well-deserved comeuppance! And that is why you should go. This piece makes us see how actors and clowns who survive on their audience’s sometimes-fickle good will are often the victims of laws such as the one that caused Carlo Delpini to be thrown into an English jail in July of 1787. Delpini broke the law that forbade unlicensed theatres to use dialogue that was unaccompanied by music. In a moment of weakness he spoke the words “Roast Beef” rather than sang them.Censorship has been with us always. This was true at the time of Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe.
The deposition scene in Shakespeare’s “Richard II” caused more than a little eye rolling and Christopher Marlowe’s work came under the scrutiny of Elizabeth I’s Star Chamber for many reasons. Marlowe barely escaped experiencing its secret brutality first hand.At that time theatres were closed by Puritans, and actors blamed for lewdness. (In all honesty one must say that only occasionally were actors to blame for such things.) For the most part the closing of theatres was due to ecclesiastical sanctimony, political power mongering and public alarm resulting in mob panic.
Many times these maledictions came about because of the much feared and widespread epidemics. Whether it was the resurgence of the Plague, which was feared by everyone or some other societal scourge feared by those in power such as a political uprising of one kind or another, the afflicted community many times blamed it upon the theatre.The Commedia del’Arte and its presentation is – whether this reviewer is its greatest fan or not – magnificently put forth. In this show the renowned Buntport humor, which so deftly demolishes funny bones, takes a back seat to historical research regarding the persecution of actors and the satirical evisceration of those ne’er do wells who hurt the theatre by living by the letter of ridiculous and nonsensical laws.Commedia del Arte is this company’s style of choice in producing this new work. It’s a valid choice and those who find an endless stream of pratfalls and baguette whippings, accompanied by repetitive clangs and whistles palatable will find this aspect of the proceedings delightful. This reviewer has nearly always found the initiation of such theatrical expressions enjoyable. However after the hundredth repetition thereof he tends to find them tedious.That said, one may find exceptional work in the muggings, sly transitions of hairpieces to beard and moustache and many other sly subtleties in the theatricality of the very correct stylistic presentation of this play.
The costuming and makeup of the actors in their portrayal of these eighteenth century thespians is superb and indelible. It puts one in mind of the costuming and also the depiction of the facial landscape in films by Federico Fellini such as “I Clowns”, “Casanova” and “Fellini/Satyricon.”SamAnTha Schmitz’s lighting design plays games with the viewer’s subjective and objective points of view. The shifts in her lighting design make one feel as though he were viewing an actual moment in theatrical history one moment and pulled back into a modern theatrical depiction thereof the next. “The Roast Beef Situation” is a blood-rare and gently mooing serving of existential theatrical Truth.See it!-David Marlowe, June 4, 2012, david-marlowe.blogspot.com. We have moved into full-on hallucinatory territory.Buntport’s final production of its 10th season is “Jugged Rabbit Stew,” an original musical that is fascinating, entertaining and thought-provoking in the Buntport tradition.Except that there is no tradition.
Every time it seems that the collaborative is about to lapse into a house style, the group subverts itself, turns its approach inside out, pies itself in the face. In a culture where art and entertainment is churned out with assembly-line predictability, Buntport keeps things fresh and alive.Just as Buntport is a theater in the existential sense that it’s a group of people that explores the human condition live onstage, “Stew” is a musical in that it contains songs.
Everything else is up for grabs. The plot is marginal, the characters are, literally, fragmented, tangential speculations abound, and in the end the whole contraption just kind of drives off the edge of a cliff.It’s great!The central figure is a giant magical rabbit, played by Erik Edborg, clad in ears, paws and anger, chugging booze from a hutch’s water dispenser. We are all doomed. Isn’t that hilarious?The six-pack of geniuses that collaborate to create Denver’s Buntport Theater have done it again with “The World is Mine,” a riveting examination of Eugene O’Neill from the inside out.O’Neill was the most honored American playwright of the 20th century. He was also the most significant. And he’s yet another icon of the tortured-artist tradition, and by now the accumulated armchair psychoanalysis surrounding his late, “confessional” plays has permanently skewed our understanding of him and his body of work.Buntport plays with these conceptions with adroit abandon.
Denver’s Buntport Theater produces interesting, entertaining work. That may sound simple, but it’s an objective few artists or arts groups ever achieve. They achieve it again with the final play of their eighth season, “The Squabble,” with an unmistakable and unstale Buntportian approach. If you want to enjoy yourself at the theater, this is the one you should be attending.Here are more remarkable facts about Buntport. They do good work consistently. They are without pretense. They are committed to working here.
They work collaboratively.They are a little tiny Utopian island for me, really, floating in a sea of self-indulgence, bad choices and egomaniacal hobbyism. Which is why I am so biased in their favor. Caveat lector.The creative sextet – Erik Edborg, Brian Colonna, Evan Weissman, Hannah Duggan, Erin Rollman, and SamAnTha Schmitz – have produced 26 shows together to date, by their count. They have staged unusual fare such as “Kafka on Ice,” Moby Dick Unread,” and “The Odyssey: A Walking Tour.” You could say it’s a little gimmicky – or you could say it’s no-holds-barred.
The group is unafraid and unashamed to use whatever techniques help them reach the audience.The physical setup for “The Squabble” resembles nothing so much as the ring for a messy wrestling match. It’s a rectangular box containing several cubic yards of mud. The ensemble (save for SamAnTha, who handles the offstage functions) treads through the muck, acting out an adaptation of the source material, a short story by Gogol.The mud is an obvious metaphor for the conflict the protagonists, here named Bob Boxinoxingworth (Edborg) and Bob Luggalollinstop (Colonna), find themselves, er, mired in.
A letter from Yandrick Agius on restructuring your life to find happiness. Do you have a story you’d like to share for a blog post? Write to us at the98percentpod@gmail.com or use the Contact Us page!Dear Alexa and Katie,Hello. My name is Yandrick and I discovered your podcast by chance a few weeks ago following a friend’s tweet. Your podcast has steadily become a personal favourite and I have been binging on episodes. One of my greatest pleasures is listening to actors giving interviews and talking about the profession, so The 98% has really fit the bill for me.
Through listening to the episodes, I feel very funnily invested in you two lovely, strong and wonderful women (and Sir Tom, obviously). I’d like to congratulate the both of you on creating such a wonderful podcast which serves as a safe space for actors.Your podcast has helped in many ways and I’d like to explain why. I’m a 21 year old student from Malta and 98% of our population is made of muggles/non-actors. A very roughly estimated 2% (which again seems somewhat grand for our small community) makes up the local actors. Like most places, acting is not really seen as a full-time profession, nor completely respected as one and to add insult to injury, there isn’t even the possibility for professional vocational training for acting.
I’ve been in love with acting since the age of 11, when the drama teacher at my school walked into our classes and asked us if we’d like to give up our midday breaks for drama lessons. I was one of the few who was daft enough to go for it and I immediately fell head over heels in love.
I kept up acting during my years at secondary school and mid-way, I discovered I could actually sing pretty decently and I fell in love again, this time with the world of musical theatre. For some time, it was my dream to study musical theatre at drama school in the UK however I side-tracked my plans because life got in the way, teenage years happened and my focus shifted.
At the age of 18, I decided against going to drama school and I enrolled for a Bachelor of Laws at university because I wanted to pursue that career path. It was at this point that I decided to put theatre in the back seat and focus on academic extra-curricular activities and committees.Mid-way through my second year of university, I had a breakdown, I had just gotten out of a relationship and I realised I was really missing performing. I jumped from one production to another to distract myself from how miserable I was. I really messed around with my academics and risked so many exams and assessments, I still don’t know how I did it.
I quickly realised university was steadily killing my enthusiasm and that I couldn’t see myself living without some kind of theatre in my life. I kept myself busy with shows and I eventually decided to get back into classes for acting, singing and dancing. I was too late and most definitely not prepared enough to audition for the next year, so I decided that I would audition for drama school during my fourth and final year of university, alongside my finals and my dissertation. A year before my auditions, I set my priorities straight. I stopped taking part in shows and dragged myself to every single class I could find on the island. I also decided to put my social life on the back burner in order to be able to balance my academics alongside my training. I even added music theory and piano lessons to the mix, because one of the schools I wanted to audition for was a conservatoire.
I was also working almost full-time days teaching English to foreign teenagers in the summer to save up for auditions and rushing to classes in the evening. This time in my life was really difficult. I was really giving myself a hard time and the majority of my friends couldn’t understand what I was doing or why. I turned down many nights out to stay in and get work done and I can recall many nights alone, with some tearful stress-induced breakdowns of loneliness along the way. Nothing could have prepared me for it, I really struggled with my mental health and I didn’t know to deal with it. It came to a point where one of my drama teachers calmly called me out on it during a session and encouraged me to seek the assistance of the in-house counsellor.
That was a really tough pill for me to swallow at the time, to admit that everything was not okay and that I needed help. I managed to gain a lot of perspective and self awareness from this and in hindsight it was great life experience to add to my catalogue of experiences to drawn on for my acting!As my fourth year of university started, so did my intensive audition prep and the sacrifices certainly didn’t stop. Luckily, I had learnt to deal with myself a bit better but it was still no easy feat. No one around me ever really understood what I was doing, because 98% of the population just don’t get it in the first place. By Lauren ClanceyThe self-tape.
It seems simple enough. Stick a camera up, do a take, send it to your agent - Bobs your Uncle. Nice.Anyone who has ever made a self-tape knows it’s not always that easy.
These are the honest six stages of the self-tape.The EmailYou’re midway through your day-job shift. There’s been a couple of grumbly customers here and there. Maybe you’ve been so busy you haven’t had your tea yet. Anyway, you’re just about to have you well-earned lunch.
You look at your phone. It’s a self-tape request. All stations GO. It’s time to make your arrangements.
Gotta cancel those drinks this evening. You’re probably going to kindly ask your mum/partner/housemate if they would mind reading with you.The Last-Minute Line LearnSometimes you will get a self-tape request with a few days to prep. It can still be hard fitting it in amongst all your other commitments, but you’ve got this! If you don’t get a few days and the deadline is this evening.then the next few hours are going to be interesting. Cue learning lines on a packed tube or stealing glances at your sides in-between serving coffee.The Set UpSo you’ve rushed home, dumped your bags and ran to your room.
Operation Turn This Tiny Space Into A Film Studio commences. Now, this is where things can get interesting.
If you have a complete set of fully functioning equipment - yay! This makes this bit a lot easier. If not, it’s time to use your imagination, folks. All manner of household equipment will be used as tripods, backdrops, props - you name it. I have been known to cut open an entire duvet cover to make it double in length. I then ironed said cover on a very small ironing board. All for the sake of a backdrop.
Let me tell you, people, do not do this at home. It takes roughly a million years.The TakesYou’re in the throes of filming. You watch yourself over and over again. Your face begins to lose meaning. Why does my mouth do that? What am I saying?
Maybe I could just start all over again? Don’t go down this path. You don’t need to micromanage your eyebrows. You’re doing fine. After all that, you’re probably going to go with the first take anyway.The EditingThis is about the time the app you’ve been using soundlessly for the past few months decides to crash. Or, you have no storage left on your device. So it’s time to furiously delete multiple photos that you’ve left to mount up.
You send the tape over via WeTransfer only for your agent to say it has no sound. HOW!?’, you say. And.breathe.The FinaleEverything has been sent over to your agent. They’re happy, you’re happy. You made it through another self-tape saga alive. A cup of tea or glass of wine is strongly recommended to celebrate. Whatever you do at this point do not re-watch your tape.
You might notice you accidentally left the ironing board in shot. By Luke MacLeodYou've just graduated, or you've just made a return to acting. Or you've left your agent for one of various reasons. Either way, in all of these circumstances, you've ended up self-representing, at least for a while. So, how to make the most of this situation, even if it's not a situation you intend to stay in forever?
It's a difficult conundrum because there isn't anyone else fighting battles for you, and it's quite likely you won't have the same resources available as an agent would have. Here's a few things that helped me when I self-represented for a while; as always, this is one person's experience, so absorb a variance of opinions and ideas before deciding on information that will truly help you as the individual.Frame self-representation positively.This is possibly the most important point of all, so let's start with why it can be a transformative experience in your acting career. Self-representation can often feel lonely and negative ('No one wants me! What have I done wrong so far?' Etc), but the first thing to acknowledge is that this career path does not have to be a race. It takes the time it takes, and putting pressure on yourself to rush into 2% success won't help.
Self-representation was the biggest learning curve in my career to giving myself the best chance in every situation.Embrace the freedom of choice.You can literally choose what you apply for! You don't have to go up for that commercial, or that Rattigan play, or that corporate job. You get to choose, so find the projects that interest you the most and use your time to prioritise them instead.Use your regionality to your advantage.This applies to everyone, including London folks. We all come from somewhere, and more often than not that area will have a local producing theatre; these theatres often want to hire locals, to put back into their own community. So you grew up in the Hammersmith area?
Write to the Lyric. You grew up in Sheffield? Write to the Crucible. It will always be worth your time, because as a local to the area you can tell the local stories better than any other actor; artistic directors are more often than not good at recognising that very fact.Create your own database.This is something that can be useful for every actor, but it does require a fair amount of time commitment.
Keep track of who you've met for what project and when, write down projects/theatres/companies they're attached to, and so on. Writing out such information gets it out of your head and onto a page that can be called upon more reliably than your own memory.Think like an agent.Why are you the most suitable actor for the given role? What skillsets do you have that make you stand out? Do you look accurately represented in your headshots at the moment (be blunt with yourself)? Does your CV/showreel tailor towards the roles and jobs you want to push for? What can you do in the immediate to aid that?
These are all questions you need to ask before you send that email pushing yourself for any given job, as this is what an agent will be doing in their Covent Garden office.Take the position of the casting director/production company.When they see your CV and decide to bring you in, is your CV bulletproof? Can you genuinely do every accent you say you can, perform every skill, back up every credit. It's a lot to ask but in the position of the self-represented actor, no one will ask these questions for you.
If you feel shaky about anything on your CV, it's safer to get rid of it for now.Find other self-represented actors and create a community.This industry can feel lonely at the best of times. Whether it be through your 'resting job', attending classes or hanging around in bars, find other actors in your position who are just as driven as you, and sometimes magic can happen. Some of the best ideas are borne out of these new friendships, and even if you're not necessarily driven to become writers or producers between you, an outside eye to help with a self tape, run a new showreel scene with or even just grab for a hot chocolate and a hug can be eminently helpful and a shield against some of the more negative feelings that actors often are subjected to.Social media can be useful, but be careful!I'm not sure if it's a growing trend, but it certainly seems that more and more casting calls are channelled through the likes of Twitter than ever before. I know I have got a number of auditions through the information from people I've followed.
In my experience, I rarely post, but I use social media to follow up with the up-and-comers; the fledgling writers and directors, the green producers and the folks who are determined to make new and exciting work. There's also a plethora of information spewed out by people on a variety of subjects that you'd otherwise have to pay a lot of money for, and these are the real hidden pearls (just yesterday a very respected vocal coach made a whole thread on what to do if you're certain you have a vocal injury).
The flipside is that you will also see all the cast announcements that you aren't part of, stories of industry exploitation and general nastiness that can be seen through the disassociative behaviour that social media can feed. If you catch yourself finding more despair from logging in than informative potential, log out and delete the app.Protect your mental health.I cannot emphasise this enough as my final point. I'm not qualified to give advice on this front but if you've listened to various episodes of the podcast you should already be pretty clued up on steps you can take to keep yourself working in a healthy manner.The above words aren't gospel, and have probably been heard in a million ways before by most working actors. But sometimes, being self-represented means you can need reassurance you're doing the right things.
Trust me, most of you will be. Keep happy, keep healthy and eat that extra slice of cake (I wrote this in a cafe with a gateau in my eyeline, so that's what I'll now be doing).
By Ollie Kaiper-LeachOn a recent episode of The 98% (S2E8) about sexuality and masculinity Alexa and Katie and their guest Tom kept coming back to this strange idea in our industry that male performers should be ‘strong’ as though that somehow equates to ‘manliness’. In musical theatre, the trope of a ‘convincing leading man’ is so prevalent that the level of our ‘manliness’ directly influences our employability as young men.
The effect this has on our mental health is not only huge, but mostly unspoken, which is worrying in an industry which is supposed provide a ‘safe space’ for flexible definitions of gender.Towards the end of last summer, I managed to bag myself a ticket to one of the most hotly anticipated West End transfers of a musical that year. For lots of reasons, it was a fantastic show, not least owing to a cast so lacking in a weak link that Anne Robinson would surely have had a nervous breakdown.
But as the curtain went down and I mulled over the details of what I had just seen, I realised something: the two biggest supporting male roles spent the majority of the time in just their underwear – and what’s more, they were both JACKED. Now to be clear, these two actors were both very talented, with cracking singing voices, immaculate dancing and convincing, funny character choices. But the distinct lack of time they spent clothed made me wonder how important the physical condition of the actors was in the casting process. Even if it was a happy accident, surely now any future casting would be influenced, and the roles defined in part by their bodies.This show has been a key player in an ongoing discussion regarding body image for women, challenging the physical stereotypes associated with leading ladies in musical theatre, and rightly so. It is refreshing to know that a West-End leading lady can be cast according to her talent alone, and even more so to know that different body-types are beginning to be represented on stage. The good this will do for countless young girls who idolise West End stars is infinite.
Which is why it strikes me as so odd that in the same show there can be such disregard for the same issues surrounding men. Not only do these two male roles, now defined by a stratospheric bar of physical appearance, perpetuate an unrealistic ideal to other male performers in the industry, but the two actors themselves must surely have felt an incredible amount of pressure to maintain their physical condition for fear of losing their jobs. One of these actors is also known for another role whose physique was his only attribute. If he is being typecast, surely then the importance of his physical upkeep has even greater implications for his career.As musical theatre performers, we do have a professional responsibility to keep fit, perhaps more so than actors outside of musical theatre. Because of that, ‘strong’ has become synonymous with ‘employable’, and the sense of competition associated with fitness and physique results in an overwhelming fear of judgement regarding our diets and gym routines. Disclaimer: In this blog I will be discussing the recent remarks made by casting directors on social media concerning actors’ attitude and availability. I would encourage every actor to communicate with their agent about their work situation/living arrangement/availability.
If casting directors are experiencing a back-and-forth with agents because actors have not kept them updated, then I can understand their frustration. This article is NOT about those situations. It is about the suggestion made in recent public posts that actors should not live a life outside of acting.I have had a busy #actorslife this week. (hoobloodyray) I’ll give you a little insight:On Monday I was wondering through St. James’ Park in the glorious sunshine with a couple of hours to kill before going to the theatre. My phone goes: it’s an audition for the following afternoon. I locked myself in the nearest Waterstones, took hundreds of photos of the Arden Shakespeare (sorry, Waterstones) and spent two hours learning lines out loud in a public cafe.
Every Time I Die Movie
On Thursday morning I had an audition. At 4pm, my agent called and asked if I could go back to read for another character before 6pm. Luckily I wasn’t at work; I was with a friend. So I left early, travelled across town, and got back into that audition room.Let me say this - I am not complaining. To be honest it’s mostly really exciting. I am just giving you a flavour of the types of situations that arise for actors every single day, and the ways in which we make things work to get in that audition room. In my experience, most actors would have done exactly the same.
So when I saw the latest of a string of posts calling out actors for their ‘filthy attitudes’ and arguably suggesting that we are all lazy, arrogant, and selfish, I was a bit confusedI don’t know any actors that have that attitude. Do you?Ok, I’m sure there are people in our industry who don’t take it as seriously as they should. But 99% of actors I know would miss their own bloody wedding for an audition. Actors frequently put their personal life to one side for the sake of their careers, and sometimes, this can be damaging.
Sometimes, an actor’s work-life balance is so warped that they put their physical and mental health at risk. It is every actor’s right to be a person first and an actor second, and yet it is so hard not to give into pressure and let acting consume you. Sometimes we feel guilty for living a life outside the audition room, and that way of thinking is dangerous to our health and detrimental to our craft.So this recent post really concerns me. I’m worried that it encourages this damaging way of thinking. I’m worried about the powerful effect it could have on actors. And in particular, I’m worried about the message it sends to those just starting out in our industry.
In fact, I was prompted to write this response after receiving a private message from a third year drama school student. He had seen this particular post on Facebook after it was shared by one of his tutors - not in criticism, but in support of the views expressed. I was horrified that he had seen these views endorsed by a tutor. I was horrified that other young actors might read it and believe every word. So this article is for all of us, but especially for you.This post paints an unrealistic picture of the average actor, and plays into our anxieties and our sense of powerlessness. The message it sends to young actors is this: YOU ARE LUCKY TO BE HERE. Leave your kids at school; cancel your holiday; risk losing your day job.
If you’re not prepared to do that, you don’t want it enough. If this is too much for you, you’re not welcome in our industry.
I went through the drama school system, and in my experience most graduates are eager, a bit terrified, and prepared to do anything for their career. This post sends them further down that rabbit hole of fear, subservience, obsessive behavior and lack of self-care.
This post also paints an unrealistic picture of the average casting director. I can’t recall meeting a casting director who wasn’t polite, professional and respectful. In many cases, casting directors have been so lovely and so welcoming that I’ve felt at ease in the audition room. And that brings out the best in everyone. Casting directors are not our enemies, and yet these posts suggest that they are. I would hate young actors to read these posts and think of casting directors as people to be feared.This post was right about one thing - our industry is changing. It is changing all the time, and I think is changing for the better.
Actors are using social media to call out dodgy castings, to connect with others in the industry, and to talk about mental health. Equity are improving our safety, pay and working conditions every day. It’s slow but it’s happening. Perhaps the hierarchal system which, for years, has prevented those at the bottom of the chain from speaking out and politely demanding their rights is starting to break down. And that’s amazing. Imagine what this could do for our industry:Let’s communicate more. Let’s sit down and talk.
If there’s something actors can do to help casting directors do their jobs, let’s talk about it, not rant about it on social media. We could work together to improve the situation for everyone, and this would, in turn, improve the quality of our art. It is collaboration, not fear and dictation, that makes this industry exciting. So, to all the fresher-faced, younger actors out there, I implore you to ignore that post. Ignore others like it. Just update your agent about your availability and all will be well.You are a person first and an actor second.
I promise you that living your life will make you better actor and a happier person. And don’t forget that this post is one voice: There are some truly wonderful people in our industry and for all our sake’s you mustn’t be afraid of them. Take care, take a holiday, please pick your kids up from school, and go have fun out there. By Lily ShepherdWhen I meet fellow actors out and about, telling them my agent is a Co-op is always a great conversation opener.
Mike Ratboy Novak
There is a lot of myths to be busted, and as an avid listener of The 98% I thought I whack together a few words of advice to my comrades who feel the Co-op life could be for them. A few tips to get started.Make sure you research.Like all agencies, some are better than others. I'm quite lucky because mine is genuinely one of the best, and we care about other peoples careers as much as our own. Have a look at their website to see what time of work they're getting. If you can, find out who cast it, see what CD's/theatres they have connections with. Make sure the ones you apply to have no one like you on their books, it gives you a better chance of being seen.You get out what you put inIf you push someone for a role, whether it be a strong Spotlight submission, or phoning the casting director to follow it up, people are more likely to do that for you. (I have actually got someone a casting by doing this).Think like an agentWhen you're in the office, you need your agents hat on.
This might take some adjustment time if you've only even been an actor. You will need to be reeeeally realistic about who you put up for what, it isn't just 'can they play this part' it's also, 'will they be SEEN for this part'. Don't put someone with zero film credits up for the lead in a major feature. You need to look at the breakdowns objectively. Stupid subs might affect our chances of being respected by CD's and we don't want to be taken off the list!Pro'sSupport - I joined as a graduate and knew diddly squat about the industry, having a network of 20-30 people with a wealth of knowledge and experience willing to answer any of my (sometimes stupid) questions was invaluable. If I had a conventional agent as a graduate, I probably wouldn't feel too comfortable bombarding them.You learn about how the casting process works - From the breakdowns coming through on Spotlight, to booking people in their castings. Nothing makes you feel super involved in the industry than looking at it from different angles.
Depressing as it seems, if you don't get a casting for a few months, its makes you feel like you still have your finger in that pie.You can see the breakdowns: Everyone has their own agent's login, so you can log on to Spotlight and see what you've been put up for. This may quash the 'why haven't I been seen for ages!'
Frustration as sometimes when I look on, there genuinely isn't anything coming through for me at the moment, and thats fair enough! It can also be a bit 'look at all these jobs no-one wants to see me for', depends how you look at it!
This can also give you a bit of a head start. If it's theatre, I can see the CD's information and breakdown, and do my own email follow up explaining why I'm right for the role, (I have actually had castings through doing this!) someone with a conventional agent won't be privy to that information.You have a better control over your own career. This is the main reasons Co-ops were started in the first place.
You aren't at the mercy of an agent trying to squeeze money out of you, you don't want to do something? Don't have to, simple. No one will pressure you to take a job you aren't comfortable with as Co-ops are not for profit so theres no reason for them too.The commission is lower. As I previously mentioned. Co-op's are not for profit so any commission you pay goes back into the running of the agency; rent, utilities etc. It's generally 10% for TV/film/theatre and 12.5% for commercials.It's rewarding - someone recently booked a life changing job, and the person who got to tell them described it as 'the best phone call they'd ever made', there's is a really nice feeling of being in it together, a win for one being a win for all!Level playing field - Not to throw shade at myself, but there are rarely big actor stars signed with Co-op agencies, meaning you won't be sidelined for a big money maker.
The numbers are also kept quite small, so people can't be forgotten about.Con'sTime consuming - you generally have to do 2-4 office days a month, as well as a monthly meeting, whatever day job you have will have to factor in you will have to have time off during the week (and thats excluding castings) - you will also need to bear in mind it's unpaid work.It's hard work! - Office days can be dead as a dodo, they can also be super busy. People's careers are in your hands 3 days a month and that can be a bit of pressure! There can be a lot of phone calls to make, emails to send, admin and finance work, and always the sucky task of telling people a job didn't go their way.This is just my two cents, it's not for everyone - but definitely worth thinking about, especially if you haven't before. As well as making new, like-minded friends, you get a mind-opening, wealth of different experience from people you may not have otherwise met. By Sarah HortonSo there we have it I now have a West End credit. Something I wanted so badly for so long and something I thought would be the answer to my prayers.
Something I believed that once achieved would put me on the right path and some of the struggle I faced since graduating 7 years ago (god that makes me feel old) would be over. Has it turned out like that?
Erm, not so much.Us musical theatre performers are trained and focused on getting ourselves on the big WE. A place where we can solidify ourselves as MT performers and maybe earn a bob or two. When I got the offer (which I thought must be a wind up) to be an understudy on a show that would be doing a summer season on the West End I cried and so did my loved ones. It was an amazing moment, a moment I really thought was going to be a big change for me moving forward and of course in a lot of ways it has been. But here I am 2 months on after finishing the contract with no agent and no auditions.I keep thinking to myself I’m so stupid to have believed that this credit would make such a big difference in my career but then I think that’s what we’re trained to believe. It then makes me doubt my talent, my looks and my life because, let’s face it, when you’re a performer there’s no real difference between our careers and our lives. Since finishing the show I have found it even harder than before to go back to my muggle life.
I’ve felt so desperately lost that I’ve considered giving up all together. Because shouldn’t I have gone from 1 great job to another? Shouldn’t it be easier for me now to get an agent that believes in me? I’ve found it even harder to get muggle work this time around and be able to grin and bear it and with no audition or prospect of an agent in sight the feeling of “what is the point” has been nagging at me everyday.Now I’m out of the dread that I’m hoping we all go through after finishing a contract but this time with a slightly altered perspective.
I feel like my dreams are no longer enough to get me through, I’m not getting any younger (damn it) and the older I’m getting the more I’m craving stability (which really shocks me to be honest). I feel like I’ve been hit with a harsh dose of reality but in a lot of ways I’m grateful for it. It’s opened my eyes to how blinkered I’ve been and how focused on certain goals I have become. With my 30th birthday looming I’m realising how little of my life I can actually plan. Before that was completely acceptable and exciting but now I would actually like to be able to plan my birthday party!The lesson I’ve learned from all of this is that we shouldn’t fixate so much on this one goal.
There are other things that can be equally as fulfilling as being on a West End stage and we should embrace that more and not let ourselves or others make us feel like it’s not a big enough achievement. The biggest lesson is to not take it all so seriously because here I am typing this post in a random reception somewhere in central London earning £9 per hour. So many great and definitely testing things came out of this experience and it’s really made me think about what I really want for my future. It’s also pushed me to pursue other things that actually bring a great deal of fulfilment to my days and, dare I say, I might have found some talents I didn’t know I had.
Sarah is an actor originally from Nottingham (which is the midlands for any southerners out there) currently living in a flat share in London. She has credits she’s proud of and baffled by including a Christmas spent as an overweight elf and a Halloween as a reluctantly dancing pumpkin. You can find her over on Instagram @sarahhorton moaning about her temp job and sharing the day to day struggles of a short blonde human trying to make it in the industry.
Sarah is very passionate about mental health and she speaks about that over on her blog. The 98% is usually listened to on Sarah’s commute whilst under the armpit of an angry business man on the northern line. By a couple anonymous actorsPrepare yourself for a (relatively) eloquent rantThere seems to be a worrying trend of late (on Twitter at least) of bad mouthing actors for cancelling a casting the day of. Now, this isn’t just someone not showing up because they can’t be bothered and not warning anyonethis is a person, (most probably an agent), calling the casting director to let them know they will no longer be able to attend for whatever reason. Right?Well, recently there have been a few Casting Directors taking this complaint to Twitter. Publicly shaming these actors as ‘unprofessional’ ‘uncommitted’ and ‘rude’, with suggestions of ‘blacklisting’ them.To me this is disrespectful, lacking in any kind of empathy and brimmed full of that tasty delicious hypocrisy. It would be rude to not call, it would be disrespectful to not show up and it would be unfair on other actors for someone to agree to an audition knowing they do not intend to go.
But it is also unprofessional to publicly humiliate actors and joke about adding them into a weird ‘Burn Book’ purgatory never to be cast again – is the power balance not out of an actors favour enough? Just another thing to worry about. I know of instances where actors have had their audition cancelled by the casting office the same day, actors who go into auditions and find out the role has actually already been cast and not to mention the plenty of times auditions are running so behind actors have to miss work and put their livelihood at risk, which is inconvenient too!
Yet you never see tweets from actors on such matters, with hordes of people wanting to bring down those mentioned. And this is what makes the matter worse, not only the clear power imbalance but fellow actors jumping on the bandwagon in some sycophantic commenting cult, as if somehow slagging off others on social media makes you seem like the next best casting option.Aren’t we all in this together?There is NOTHING wrong with cancelling the day of a casting. I’m not talking about no showsactors confirming auditions and then just not turning up without forewarning is definitely rude, disappointing and frankly confusing but as long as you have the common courtesy to let them know in as much time as possible and apologise surely we, as humans, can understand that inconvenient life issues that crop up?I happen to have a medical condition called Hemiplegic Migraine – basically it is a condition that mimics the symptoms of a stroke and is completely debilitating. Every time I have one of these I have to go to A&E to make sure I am actually not having a stroke because they can’t bloody tell and I have a higher risk of having a stroke because of it. Now, very unfortunately they can be triggered by stress (lucky me) and I have to take daily medication to ward them off.
For whatever reason, sometimes I can find the whole auditioning process quite stressful – can I afford the day off work, can I afford the travel, can I learn the lines in time, why has that fuck off massive spot appeared and so onyou get the gist.So, what happens if I have a migraine the day of a casting? Should I drag my half-paralysed body out of bed to attend the audition in fear of being blacklisted or scrolling through endless tweets from fellow actors slagging me off, or should I go and get checked out at the hospital? This seems like a ludicrous question. But it does feel like, when you see these posts on Twitter from Casting Directors you want to work with and other actors who are in the trenches beside you, that you are not afforded the understanding or empathy you would get in any other situation. ‘You are an actor and this is your job so you should have been there unless your head was hanging off next to your arsehole.’It is such an unrealistic expectation that all actors are going to be able to make every casting every single time. One of the most perturbing comments on this matter is ‘how selfish of that actor, that spot could have gone to someone else, they are so lucky to get an audition in the first place how dare they waste that!’ as if actors don’t already know that auditions are like gold dust! We KNOW how important they are, we KNOW it’s like winning the lottery to even get one, we DO feel privileged when we get the chance to auditionI don’t know any actors who don’t feel all those things 100%do you?
So why suddenly the assumption that it’s the opposite? I once went to a commercial casting so ill with the flu that when I left the room someone had to catch me on my way down to the floor as I almost passed out.
I hadn’t left the house in 10 days but refused to miss the casting. By Amy Macginley“Survival bias: the logical error of concentrating on the people or things that made it past some selection process and overlooking those that did not, typically because of their lack of visibility” Wikipedia, 2019“Sylvester Stallone wrote his own script for Rocky and won an Oscar” A middle aged fellow event waiter tells me, stuck up against the wall, waiting for the wedding party to settle down. His eyes were full of hope. Oh boy, not those stories, I thought. It’s the first few stories us actors hear when we get into the industry; Matt Damon and Ben Affleck and their screenplay, or even more recently, Denise Gough who scored a West End Lead when just months before she’d been turned down to work as a cleaner. Those are the stories touted to creatives time and time again that give us a false picture of reality. I thought, how do I tell him, it's probably not gonna happen like that for you, when I hadn’t fully admitted it to myself?Reality came knocking at my personal door via real world situations, like being in workshops or on extras sets, meeting actors double my age and bitter from lack of progress or opportunity, trying as hard as I was and getting nowhere.
These weren’t the ones being talked about the in industry. It was easy to avert my gaze back to my social media actor-populated-echo-chamber posting motivational quotes emploring a rhethoric of: keep going no matter what.you’ll get there in the end, I promise, and tell myself, I’ll be the exception, the fabricated belief aided by my unconscious absorbing of media during my childhood, a la disney movies, where because the protagonist follows the dream, everything works out in the end.And it might, nay, for some it will. But for many it won’t. Statistically the chances are low, just as the chances of winning the lotto are low. Most people wouldn’t rest their livelihood, sanity and ability to express themselves on something as fickle as the lotto, yet we do it with acting time and time again.
Sat on a plane, panicking about the fact that I was in a metal tube soaring above the earth I comforted myself with the statistics. Flying is statistically safer than driving. It was then I realised these statistics weren’t going to bend to my situation and mean I was 99% likely going to die on that plane and I could take comfort in that. This works both ways. If I could take comfort in that statistic, I had to take horror in the other one, that most likely, this career would leave me like those people twice my age; still hungry for roles and a stable chunk of money each month.When we understand the true nature of a situation, we can make better decisions about it.
I came to realise instead of following a dream, I could confront reality and work with that. My reality was that, getting older, stability was becoming more important, the need for a clear career progression in another area I found engaging could be fulfilling and that heck, if I loved acting so much I could still do it for a hobby. So I quit, and decided to return to education. Perhaps it took me a few years longer than it ought of, the survival bias distorting my perception of the nature of the industry.We are at a great time now where people are sharing their truth. The actors speaking about the hardships and realities of the industry is serving to provide a broader picture of what #actorslife is really all about.
But that also means the truth of many is the rampant promotion of idealistic self-belief, which can be beautiful, but also dangerous, if not swallowed along with the slighter bitter tasting pill of statistical likelihood of outcome. When I would frantically google “should I quit acting?” during a rough time, nearly all results would point to some story in which actors had nearly quit just when their big break came-a-knocking and proceeded to tell me to never give up. Yet, most actors never get their “big break” and many actors, including me, do give up and find it to be a decision well-made (if not terrifying at the time!). Survival bias stands to influence our biggest decisions, sometimes in the most vulnerable of times, by distorting our reality. This is not a sermon urging people to quit acting, but rather to encourage readers to gage the truth and proceed with your best answer to that, whatever that may be.
Even as I’m writing I feel I should end with a star spangled: and NEVER give up, an example of how truly, this rhetoric is drummed into the predicted narrative arc of even an online article.So, a note for those considering quitting:When it comes to this topic, I insert the words of Joseph Campbell: “We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us”. Letting go can be painful, coupled with the stigma of this idea of ‘giving up’. Rather than giving up, it may be seen as giving in to something greater, if there is something calling. If, intuitively, there is an 'I wanna quit' voice asking to be listened to, I urge the courage to at least allow that listening space to be fully realised, that pause, without judgement, so the truth of your needs can manifest themselves. It takes courage to rock your own boat by even questioning your path, and even more courage to accept the answer if it wasn’t the the one you had planned; mine had been planned from age 11!
Like jumping into a swimming pool, in life, the transition is usually the hardest part of forging a new reality. As an “other-sider” I can say sitting in quiet space and allowing myself the guilt free moment to imagine the sacrilegious joy I might feel from quitting my dream was one of the best decisions I ever made. The new journey I am now on excites me more than the concept of a high ticket role ever could and I know for others it has done the same. By Katie Elin-Salt, a re-blog from The Honest Actors blog in 2015It’s June 2010. I am wearing a green Karen Millen dress complete with matching heels that my Mother bought for me and I have had my hair professionally blow dried for the occasion.
My graduation photo. There I am, proudly clutching my 2:1 BA(Hons) Acting from the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama – with absolutely no fucking idea what was supposed to happen next. I’m sure you can see the panic in my smile. After 17 years of solid education and structure the only thing I know is that yes, I would like to carry on being an actor please world, and that the girls are on about us all moving to London for a bit to try and see how it all goes down. 5 years later, I am still here. I did move, I did work as an actor, I didn’t work as an actor – but I’m still here.
I am going to share 10 life lessons that I have learned in that time – some I wish somebody had told me on that day in the green Karen Millen dress, some I am really, really glad they didn’t.1 – London Is Like A Terrible BoyfriendI once met a boy who was a real wrong ‘un. When we met I thought he was terribly exciting and totally set apart from all the safe, homely boys I had known before. I dropped everything to be with him, even though I was well aware there was a very slim chance of things actually working out well between us.
When I told people I was with him they were impressed, and he gave me a lot of opportunities. But he didn’t care about me. He gave me very little attention. If I couldn’t do exactly what he wanted exactly when he wanted me to do it, he would carry on without me. He stole all my money. But he was really, really fit.
The less he gave the more I wanted. And sometimes, in the midst of all the dismissal and cruelty, he would take me dancing in places I never thought I would go. He would show me amazing things. In those moments he was magic. Most of the time when I was with him I felt powerless – like nothing I could do would ever be enough, like it would make no difference to him if I was there or not, like I didn’t know why I even bothered when life would be so much easier with anybody else. But whenever I left I missed him, I missed all of him – and much as I hated to admit it to myself, everything else would always be just a little bit more boring because of him.There’s your metaphor London you horrible, sexy little shit.2 – Some Of Your Friends Will Be Doing Better Than You“ I am thrilled to announce I will be joining the cast of ”Somebody from your year in drama school is going to get a ridiculous gig as soon as they graduate and is literally never going to stop working. They are going to do amazing things such as getting on to the property ladder at the age of 24 and regularly appearing in the copy of the Evening Standard that you are reading on the way home from work.Here is what that means – That they are doing well in their chosen career and that is bloody fantastic for them.Here is what that does not mean – That every other aspect of their life – their relationships, family stuff, mental and/or physical health are instantly a million times better than they were before because their career is going well.
That their lives are suddenly problem free. That they need your friendship, your celebrations in their success and your support in their sadder times any less than they did before.I’m really sorry, but there really is no easy way around this, you just have to get over yourself and be happy for them. Love them in the ways you always have. Because there is nothing worse than a bitter actor, because they deserve it and because you would want the same from them if/when it is you.Unless of course they are a totally talentless dickhead. We will deal with you next time.3 – Some Of Your Friends Will Not Be Doing Better Than YouOn the flip side of this, at any given point while your busy tweeting about only having 20 minutes in between Panto performances (#Exhausted #SoBlessedThough) – some of your brilliant, fierce, sickeningly talented friends will not be working for complete bullshit reasons that you cannot or should not try to understand. They will be ok, of course they will be ok.
But they will probably feel, at times, a bit shit about the whole thing.Do – Buy them wine. Howl at the moon with them at the injustice of it all. Listen.Don’t – Patronise. Complain at them that you’re not sure whether to take the tour you’ve just been offered because your agent thinks you should do more T.V.4 – You Will Not Be Best Friends With Everyone You Work WithThis one took me a while. Decades worth of youth theatre and drama school closer-than-your-own- family behaviours led me to the false understanding that everyone who you share a stage with will form an instant and iron-like bond wit.