Anyone who watched the Will Smith "I Am Legend" film would have no way of knowing this, but the original tale by Richard Matheson had something quite interesting to say. The main character spends most of the book killing Vampires, only to learn that the Vampires are all sentient folk who view HIM as the monster.
Back in the olden days, when I was an actor, and even today as a writer, I found the actions of the assholes on the other side of the table pretty unconscionable. Ever been to an audition where the director/casting director/etc. is looking at his watch, staring at a fixed point on the ceiling, or doing some other action that signifies his not paying attention? And like... frowning? Or at least looking at you with a line-face? That's like... every audition, right?
Today, after our monthly songfest, I took a long hard look at myself and my actions and realized that I am the asshole behind the table. And now, I understand it all.
My boyfriend was recently accepted to his dream job. He AGONIZED over the submission, re-read it a hundred times, had me re-read it about a hundred more. When the guy who hired him got back in touch with him, it had only been a few minutes since he sent in the submission - hardly enough time to read it.
Sometimes when I am shuffling through the massive piles of headshots and resumes we get every day, shunting them into the recycling bin, I forget that the people behind the submissions are actually people. Maybe they are somewhere at home, holding their breath, waiting for us to call them in for a meeting. Even as I look at their faces, at their words, a part of me has to turn off lest I face the fact that I am fucking up someone's life as I throw their picture away.
Here are some words to you all, though; mostly to actors, but perhaps non-actors can relate as well.
I cannot accept many people. But I reject very few.
There are only a couple submissions in recent memory that I have looked at and chuckled, or that I have thrown out with some real vigor. Most of them are good, but don't have the qualifications we need. Some seem promising but are young, perhaps a little green. For the most part, I don't look at this process with the word "rejection" in mind. Some folks I put in the recycle pile while hoping, or even thinking, that another agency will pick them up soon.
In order to get into the agency, lots of folks have to go through me (not all... some of them get picked up by the agents at plays, or through contacts they've made). I am the first to see your headshots and choose to show you to the agents. Then, if they want to see you, I am the one who calls you up and invites you to our songfest night, where we have prospective talent come in and sing for us. Then I take your money for the accompanist and usher you into the room and then summarily usher you out. I am your worst nightmare! But I try to do it with a friendly face.
However, here's some insight to the watch-checking, spacing out, line-face behavior. Usually, when you come in, I have had a full day at work. I am dog-tired. I have to catch a train as soon as the last actor leaves the room. And when you open your mouth to sing, I know your game within the first bar.
Very rarely has someone surprised me after the first bar. This one girl I had marked as very quiet, but then she got into her lower/belt range and she turned out to be the loudest person all evening. Serves me right. But this was notable because it only happened the one time. Everyone else, I could basically tell the tenor of their voice pretty immediately. "Awesome," I think. "What a set of pipes!" Annnd... that's it. I'm done. "Let me see if we're running on schedule or if we're going overtime..." It's about when I'm pulling out my cell phone and you're mid-belt that I realize I'm being rude.
So, I guess, on behalf of all the assholes behind the table, I apologize. I know you're a person - I really do. I've stood where you stand now. But sometimes it gets hard to remember what that feels like.
-McCleverly
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
Headshots, Resumes, and Cover Letters
Hi all! So, I've been thinking about making this post for a while, and decided that it might be helpful to some. Obviously these rules aren't hard and fast and you're going to get some disagreement within the industry.
However, I'm the first line between you - the actor - and the agents. Your headshots and resumes and letters all go through me, as do your phonecalls. So whether you like it or not, I can at least tell you what MY agency has taught me about good/bad ideas in your submissions.
Today, on a friend's facebook wall, there was some disagreement between myself (agenting) and an experienced actor over the importance of headshots. The fellow said, "casting directors care more about your acting, and don't care that much about headshots," or the like. I must begin here by respectfully disagreeing! As much as we, agents and actors, want to hope otherwise, most casting directors are willing to see actors based on p&r alone! A casting director has no idea if you're a good actor or not if they don't audition you, and they won't audition you if they don't like your picture. One of many sad realities.
(Of course, there are ways to get around this, if you have a personal relationship - however brief - with a casting director or member of the production team, or if your agent really wants to push you for a role. But for the most part, p&r is it.)
Also, as for getting an agent, your submission is super-duper-key. So, without further ado, here are some really important aspects of submission, picture, and resume!
YOUR INITIAL SUBMISSION
Please do your research! - The agents at my agency, and at most agencies, are busy people. The less you assume about their agency, the less you waste their (and your) time. The other day I received a letter and p&r from a 15-year-old girl, stating that she had "looked into our agency and saw that we are interested in actors like her." I could tell straight off that this was a form letter because our agency does not represent anyone under eighteen. A fatal flaw in an otherwise very nice submission.
Look on websites, ask friends and contacts... basically, do your legwork. And if all else fails, call ahead! There's usually someone like me running interference on phones that will be happy to talk to you (for real - I've been told that I'm super friendly on the phone :)). Ask the agency what their preferred submission method is, if they represent children, if they represent legit or commercially, if they do voice acting, etc. etc.! Anything you are unsure about, make yourself sure before wasting the postage.
Your letter should be evocative, but not a novel. - Sometimes I get letters that are one line - usually something like "I am looking for representation" or "Let's schedule a meeting," and this puts me off immediately. Likewise, I have received letters that are full pages in length, and while I have time to read these, the agents don't. LETTERS (unless they are supremely douchy) ARE NOT A DEAL-MAKER OR DEAL-BREAKER. But they help! I have never once thrown something out because of a letter but they sure do make me hesitant to show them to the bosses sometimes. The best length for a cover letter is two succinct paragraphs. Feel free to sell yourself and have some of your character shine through... but don't go overboard.
Invitations Plz. - Most agents don't have time to meet with everyone whose submission looks promising. They want to make sure the people they're talking to are actually TALENTED before they call them in. So, the best time to submit to an agency is when you are going to be appearing in something near them. Most theaters provide industry comps from what I can tell, but also offer to comp tickets for your agent-guests yourself. Include dates, a flier, pertinent info... etc. And make your play sound interesting too!
Drop names. - No really. Agents like to know if you have been seen by casting directors in the city (who liked you :)), or if you are friends with any of their clients. If you know people in the industry, PARTICULARLY directors and casting directors, include this information. Couple this with tidbit #1 for maximum effectiveness.
YOUR RESUME
Put stuff on your resume. - Yeah. I know, easier said than done. But everyone in the creative professions struggles with this awful Catch-22. In order to get work, you need an agent, and to get an agent, you need to have had work. Yikes! But lucky for actors, there are open calls in the world. Go to them. Go to all of them. And don't submit a resume that has only your college work on it, unless you are sure that the agency to which you are submitting likes "newbies". The more, disparate work is on your resume, the better off you are.
Include information about the stuff. - Not so much that it makes your resume too awfully large - full sentences are generally a no-no (but you all knew that). However, I see so many resumes that just have the titles of shows listed, or are missing information. Try to fit in the following: Title of show; role performed; theater; director (optional, but potentially helpful). When you include your roles we see immediately (potentially unfairly) what kinds of things you should be submitted for; when you include the theater, we can tell if you did your work at the Roundabout or at your hometown's local community theater. We also know who you have worked with in the past, and if we have a relationship with anyone you know.
I like your special skills. - No one has trouble with this one for the most part, but for God's sake, I like them. Your special skills are the most fun part of your resume. Be wacky, but don't lie. Make us ask you questions. One girl we recently started working with was, by all appearances, a pretty, blonde, Disney-princess type. On her special skills, she listed QUANTUM MECHANICS. You can bet that sparked a conversation! (Turns out she was a science major.. go fig :))
If you sing, MAKE THIS READILY APPARENT. - Oh my GOD is this a big deal. To me. Whenever I have to hunt through someone's special skills (there it is, between "belching on command" and "horseback riding"!) for their singing ability, I want to kill them. Some legit agencies are looking specifically and SOLELY for singers, because there is more work available here in the big apple for those who are vocally trained. I have tossed more promising-looking resumes than I care to name because vocal ability is one of our criteria. This isn't true for all agencies, but it is VERY good to let someone know upfront if you are a singer.
My recommendation? Put your vocal range right up next to your height and weight. Some people have a neat little sidebar with this information and an alternate headshot... I love these resumes (and the people who use them... very conscientious!). But, for God's sake, don't put your singing ability in the middle of another paragraph in teeny tiny font and make me play Where's Waldo for it. I will resent you.
Save my Sharpie! - This is only for folks who are actually WORKING with agents, but, heck, you're going to be working with one, aren't you? I'm gonna give you a little bit of information that they (conservatories? etc.?) may not let you in on. When we are working with you and we send out your p&r to casting directors, we remove your personal contact information and replace it with ours. This process is sometimes called "doobering" - and I love it for that. Sometimes, actors will do the work for me, and take off their email and phone number on their actual resume and replace it with agent contact info. That is very nice of you. But if you're working freelance, or decide not to do this, please save my sharpies and do not make your phone number in 100 point font.
Yes! it is important to make your contact info readily apparent and not make anyone go hunting for it. But this can just as easily be done by centering your contact info, putting it under your name, putting it in a sidebar, using negative space.
Look at a resume. - I don't know who I'm talking to anymore but some people send their submissions in and it makes me wonder who the hell they are. Some "resumes" are just big pieces of paper with stuff like "I LIKE ACTING" and "I AM A BIG MAN WITH A LOT OF TALENT" on them. A lot of the people who do this are ex-cops and soldiers and while I thank them for their service, I wish they would have googled resumes on imagesearch so that I didn't have to reject them outright.
HEADSHOTS
Oh no, the dreaded headshot! The most important part. Everyone - everyone - casts on type!!! Like it or not, damnit. And when I say everyone here, I am aware I am making a broad generalization and also potentially using hyperbole.
Show us your face please. - You have such a lovely face! Please do not obscure it with your hand, weird poses, or a zany hat. Also, if your face/hair is cut off, the agents tend not to like it. This is mysterious to me but I just say go with it.
Look like yourself (only better?). - I got to have a little experiment on the effectiveness of peoples' headshots this last year. All throughout the year, I was looking at our clients' headshots, filing them, submitting them. I became friends with everyone's headshots. I memorized their locations. I knew them all by heart. Some of our clients came in during the year but I ended up meeting most of them during the company holiday party. While taking coats, people would introduce themselves to me (usually adding "It's so good to put a face to the voice on the phone!"). Some people didn't even NEED to introduce themselves. I knew exactly who they were, IMMEDIATELY, because of their headshots. However, a few people introduced themselves and I was somehow puzzled... they didn't look like their photos at all.
There are two dangers here. The first is looking much worse than yourself. There are a few very beautiful women in our agency whose pictures are, while not wholly unflattering, just not as pretty as they are. The second danger is looking much better. It's ok to get dolled up and wear a nice outfit for your picture, but make sure it resembles you and isn't just a glamourshot.
Also, it is helpful to let your character show through, and have a few different choices for your agents to see and submit. Show the range of what you can do in these choices, though subtly.
Use professional photos. - This is an investment that will pay you back. I hate getting pictures that are obviously just blown-up snapshots, pixellated and photoshoppy, or printed on computer paper. I know it sucks to have to spend money on this but get someone who knows how to do portrait shots to do your photos, and have them printed up correctly.
Staple your resume to the back of your photo. - This is industry standard and anyone who doesn't do this looks like a newb. Make sure your resume is cut to the size of the photo and stapled onto the back of the headshot, with the faces of both facing outward.
OKAY GUYS, that's about it. Sorry for such a long entry, but hopefully it will be useful to some of you. I know a lot of this is probably repeat/duh info, but you'd be surprised at how many submissions I see that try to break these rules.
-McCleverly
However, I'm the first line between you - the actor - and the agents. Your headshots and resumes and letters all go through me, as do your phonecalls. So whether you like it or not, I can at least tell you what MY agency has taught me about good/bad ideas in your submissions.
Today, on a friend's facebook wall, there was some disagreement between myself (agenting) and an experienced actor over the importance of headshots. The fellow said, "casting directors care more about your acting, and don't care that much about headshots," or the like. I must begin here by respectfully disagreeing! As much as we, agents and actors, want to hope otherwise, most casting directors are willing to see actors based on p&r alone! A casting director has no idea if you're a good actor or not if they don't audition you, and they won't audition you if they don't like your picture. One of many sad realities.
(Of course, there are ways to get around this, if you have a personal relationship - however brief - with a casting director or member of the production team, or if your agent really wants to push you for a role. But for the most part, p&r is it.)
Also, as for getting an agent, your submission is super-duper-key. So, without further ado, here are some really important aspects of submission, picture, and resume!
YOUR INITIAL SUBMISSION
Please do your research! - The agents at my agency, and at most agencies, are busy people. The less you assume about their agency, the less you waste their (and your) time. The other day I received a letter and p&r from a 15-year-old girl, stating that she had "looked into our agency and saw that we are interested in actors like her." I could tell straight off that this was a form letter because our agency does not represent anyone under eighteen. A fatal flaw in an otherwise very nice submission.
Look on websites, ask friends and contacts... basically, do your legwork. And if all else fails, call ahead! There's usually someone like me running interference on phones that will be happy to talk to you (for real - I've been told that I'm super friendly on the phone :)). Ask the agency what their preferred submission method is, if they represent children, if they represent legit or commercially, if they do voice acting, etc. etc.! Anything you are unsure about, make yourself sure before wasting the postage.
Your letter should be evocative, but not a novel. - Sometimes I get letters that are one line - usually something like "I am looking for representation" or "Let's schedule a meeting," and this puts me off immediately. Likewise, I have received letters that are full pages in length, and while I have time to read these, the agents don't. LETTERS (unless they are supremely douchy) ARE NOT A DEAL-MAKER OR DEAL-BREAKER. But they help! I have never once thrown something out because of a letter but they sure do make me hesitant to show them to the bosses sometimes. The best length for a cover letter is two succinct paragraphs. Feel free to sell yourself and have some of your character shine through... but don't go overboard.
Invitations Plz. - Most agents don't have time to meet with everyone whose submission looks promising. They want to make sure the people they're talking to are actually TALENTED before they call them in. So, the best time to submit to an agency is when you are going to be appearing in something near them. Most theaters provide industry comps from what I can tell, but also offer to comp tickets for your agent-guests yourself. Include dates, a flier, pertinent info... etc. And make your play sound interesting too!
Drop names. - No really. Agents like to know if you have been seen by casting directors in the city (who liked you :)), or if you are friends with any of their clients. If you know people in the industry, PARTICULARLY directors and casting directors, include this information. Couple this with tidbit #1 for maximum effectiveness.
YOUR RESUME
Put stuff on your resume. - Yeah. I know, easier said than done. But everyone in the creative professions struggles with this awful Catch-22. In order to get work, you need an agent, and to get an agent, you need to have had work. Yikes! But lucky for actors, there are open calls in the world. Go to them. Go to all of them. And don't submit a resume that has only your college work on it, unless you are sure that the agency to which you are submitting likes "newbies". The more, disparate work is on your resume, the better off you are.
Include information about the stuff. - Not so much that it makes your resume too awfully large - full sentences are generally a no-no (but you all knew that). However, I see so many resumes that just have the titles of shows listed, or are missing information. Try to fit in the following: Title of show; role performed; theater; director (optional, but potentially helpful). When you include your roles we see immediately (potentially unfairly) what kinds of things you should be submitted for; when you include the theater, we can tell if you did your work at the Roundabout or at your hometown's local community theater. We also know who you have worked with in the past, and if we have a relationship with anyone you know.
I like your special skills. - No one has trouble with this one for the most part, but for God's sake, I like them. Your special skills are the most fun part of your resume. Be wacky, but don't lie. Make us ask you questions. One girl we recently started working with was, by all appearances, a pretty, blonde, Disney-princess type. On her special skills, she listed QUANTUM MECHANICS. You can bet that sparked a conversation! (Turns out she was a science major.. go fig :))
If you sing, MAKE THIS READILY APPARENT. - Oh my GOD is this a big deal. To me. Whenever I have to hunt through someone's special skills (there it is, between "belching on command" and "horseback riding"!) for their singing ability, I want to kill them. Some legit agencies are looking specifically and SOLELY for singers, because there is more work available here in the big apple for those who are vocally trained. I have tossed more promising-looking resumes than I care to name because vocal ability is one of our criteria. This isn't true for all agencies, but it is VERY good to let someone know upfront if you are a singer.
My recommendation? Put your vocal range right up next to your height and weight. Some people have a neat little sidebar with this information and an alternate headshot... I love these resumes (and the people who use them... very conscientious!). But, for God's sake, don't put your singing ability in the middle of another paragraph in teeny tiny font and make me play Where's Waldo for it. I will resent you.
Save my Sharpie! - This is only for folks who are actually WORKING with agents, but, heck, you're going to be working with one, aren't you? I'm gonna give you a little bit of information that they (conservatories? etc.?) may not let you in on. When we are working with you and we send out your p&r to casting directors, we remove your personal contact information and replace it with ours. This process is sometimes called "doobering" - and I love it for that. Sometimes, actors will do the work for me, and take off their email and phone number on their actual resume and replace it with agent contact info. That is very nice of you. But if you're working freelance, or decide not to do this, please save my sharpies and do not make your phone number in 100 point font.
Yes! it is important to make your contact info readily apparent and not make anyone go hunting for it. But this can just as easily be done by centering your contact info, putting it under your name, putting it in a sidebar, using negative space.
Look at a resume. - I don't know who I'm talking to anymore but some people send their submissions in and it makes me wonder who the hell they are. Some "resumes" are just big pieces of paper with stuff like "I LIKE ACTING" and "I AM A BIG MAN WITH A LOT OF TALENT" on them. A lot of the people who do this are ex-cops and soldiers and while I thank them for their service, I wish they would have googled resumes on imagesearch so that I didn't have to reject them outright.
HEADSHOTS
Oh no, the dreaded headshot! The most important part. Everyone - everyone - casts on type!!! Like it or not, damnit. And when I say everyone here, I am aware I am making a broad generalization and also potentially using hyperbole.
Show us your face please. - You have such a lovely face! Please do not obscure it with your hand, weird poses, or a zany hat. Also, if your face/hair is cut off, the agents tend not to like it. This is mysterious to me but I just say go with it.
Look like yourself (only better?). - I got to have a little experiment on the effectiveness of peoples' headshots this last year. All throughout the year, I was looking at our clients' headshots, filing them, submitting them. I became friends with everyone's headshots. I memorized their locations. I knew them all by heart. Some of our clients came in during the year but I ended up meeting most of them during the company holiday party. While taking coats, people would introduce themselves to me (usually adding "It's so good to put a face to the voice on the phone!"). Some people didn't even NEED to introduce themselves. I knew exactly who they were, IMMEDIATELY, because of their headshots. However, a few people introduced themselves and I was somehow puzzled... they didn't look like their photos at all.
There are two dangers here. The first is looking much worse than yourself. There are a few very beautiful women in our agency whose pictures are, while not wholly unflattering, just not as pretty as they are. The second danger is looking much better. It's ok to get dolled up and wear a nice outfit for your picture, but make sure it resembles you and isn't just a glamourshot.
Also, it is helpful to let your character show through, and have a few different choices for your agents to see and submit. Show the range of what you can do in these choices, though subtly.
Use professional photos. - This is an investment that will pay you back. I hate getting pictures that are obviously just blown-up snapshots, pixellated and photoshoppy, or printed on computer paper. I know it sucks to have to spend money on this but get someone who knows how to do portrait shots to do your photos, and have them printed up correctly.
Staple your resume to the back of your photo. - This is industry standard and anyone who doesn't do this looks like a newb. Make sure your resume is cut to the size of the photo and stapled onto the back of the headshot, with the faces of both facing outward.
OKAY GUYS, that's about it. Sorry for such a long entry, but hopefully it will be useful to some of you. I know a lot of this is probably repeat/duh info, but you'd be surprised at how many submissions I see that try to break these rules.
-McCleverly
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
The Ass and the Ingenue
Okay, so, I have a big ass.
It is so large as to make the purchasing of jeans nigh-impossible. My waist-to-ass ratio is more than a little (and more than a little inconvenient). On a BMI scale, I am overweight. And you know what? I'm cool with this.
There was a little while there when I was not so cool with it. I would beat myself up about my weight, cry for long periods, stare into the mirror, and chastise myself for eating. Pretty nominal stuff, all told... most girls get preoccupied with these things. Guys too.
One night, I remember crying and thinking that I was useless because I was not skinny. As a female in the world, there was no place for me because I was not slender. Mind you, I don't hold anyone else to this line of thinking - for my more ample-bodied and beautiful friends, I hold nothing but the highest regard. I feel untold love for more "curvy" girls, for their daily strength and bravery. I believe, most of all, that people are genetically predisposed to different weights - and that a healthy weight for one person is not the same as a healthy weight for another.
But in that moment, I felt sick, and wrong, all because I could not find a cultural mirror to hold my body type to and find myself beautiful.
It need not be reiterated that, here in the modern world, we are obsessed with skinniness; worse, we are obsessed with finding a "cure" for certain body types. Look on the faces of magazines. How many topics are about finding some new way to tone up, to lose weight? For many people, the bodies we have are the ones we're stuck with, and no amount of booty-shaking and carb-avoiding will ever change that.
As I have been dangling my toes in the waters of body acceptance and living the philosophy of being healthy at one's natural weight, so too have I been seeing glimpses of the sordid underbelly and workings behind our culture's perpetuation of "skinny=good". It is no coincidence that these things coincide.
The more I see about body image in the industry, the more I am sickened by it.
Let me preface the following by saying that I love the agents I work with. They are intelligent, progressive, and kind. I am so lucky to be "apprenticed" to them, as it were.
That being said, in the past few months, I have heard more totally average-bodied girls referred to as "fat" and "dumpy" than I would really like. I have heard Catherine Zeta-Jones referred to as "overweight". But today's conversation with my boss really took the cake.
We had recently found out that a client of ours had been turned down from a role for being too "curvy". To my naive mind, she is very beautiful and slender. So, outraged, I made my opinion known. I told the agents that I felt our client was by no means "curvy" out in the real world, but that didn't seem to matter.
"She has a big bum," my boss said. I tried not to look crestfallen.
It was then explained to me that girls with big asses could never be romantic leads. That no audience member would ever believe that a large-assed girl could be "the one" in some man's life. What my boss explained to me was matter-of-fact, wisdom garnered after so much experience in this business.
That didn't stop it from being awful.
She also mentioned that someone with that figure would be better suited for comedic roles. Whether or not it was meant this way, I understood it to mean that our culture at large does not take the ample-bodied seriously. And it's true. We see overweight men and women in primarily comedic roles, with notable exceptions (Christina Hendricks is not fat by any stretch of the imagination, but I have a hard time picturing many agents taking a chance with other girls of her body type; likewise, James Gandolfini struck it big with such an interesting and dramatic role as Tony Soprano). We equate the larger body with a larger personality - bold, brassy, but ultimately silly and certainly not romantic.
In the world of showbusiness, the cycle perpetuates itself, and seemingly no one makes the rules - and no one stops the buck. Agents will rarely chance working with an actor who doesn't fit a certain mold; they do this because they know casting directors won't hire someone outside "type"; casting directors won't cast against type because they believe audiences won't buy it; audiences are then taught that only thin girls get songs sung about them, and only thin girls fall in love.
And we curvy girls - myself, and those larger than me - learn that we are not "the one," and that no one with a big ass can be an ingenue.
This is a gigantic crock. But it is also a business. Actors are in the business of selling themselves, just as a jeweler would sell a bracelet or a writer would sell a story. To the public at large, and especially in the business, being thin is equated with caring for oneself and being polished. (This opens up other doors pertaining to weight and class, but that is for another time.) But what the public also tends to forget is that, since actors are selling themselves as products, they are not like real people.
In fact, actors are not even the approximation of real people. Stoppard said it best... "actors are the opposite of people". They are chosen not as slices of life, but as "paragons". They are fantasies. But no matter how many times we say it out loud and rationalize that sentiment, it's so hard to shake the cultural mirror that pervades our society.
The media does not, in many ways, reflect life. It reflects what a set group of people believe life should be like. How many times do we need to repeat that before it starts to sink in? How many working actors, and working people, do we have to put through the wringer before normal bodies can be normal again?
It is so large as to make the purchasing of jeans nigh-impossible. My waist-to-ass ratio is more than a little (and more than a little inconvenient). On a BMI scale, I am overweight. And you know what? I'm cool with this.
There was a little while there when I was not so cool with it. I would beat myself up about my weight, cry for long periods, stare into the mirror, and chastise myself for eating. Pretty nominal stuff, all told... most girls get preoccupied with these things. Guys too.
One night, I remember crying and thinking that I was useless because I was not skinny. As a female in the world, there was no place for me because I was not slender. Mind you, I don't hold anyone else to this line of thinking - for my more ample-bodied and beautiful friends, I hold nothing but the highest regard. I feel untold love for more "curvy" girls, for their daily strength and bravery. I believe, most of all, that people are genetically predisposed to different weights - and that a healthy weight for one person is not the same as a healthy weight for another.
But in that moment, I felt sick, and wrong, all because I could not find a cultural mirror to hold my body type to and find myself beautiful.
It need not be reiterated that, here in the modern world, we are obsessed with skinniness; worse, we are obsessed with finding a "cure" for certain body types. Look on the faces of magazines. How many topics are about finding some new way to tone up, to lose weight? For many people, the bodies we have are the ones we're stuck with, and no amount of booty-shaking and carb-avoiding will ever change that.
As I have been dangling my toes in the waters of body acceptance and living the philosophy of being healthy at one's natural weight, so too have I been seeing glimpses of the sordid underbelly and workings behind our culture's perpetuation of "skinny=good". It is no coincidence that these things coincide.
The more I see about body image in the industry, the more I am sickened by it.
Let me preface the following by saying that I love the agents I work with. They are intelligent, progressive, and kind. I am so lucky to be "apprenticed" to them, as it were.
That being said, in the past few months, I have heard more totally average-bodied girls referred to as "fat" and "dumpy" than I would really like. I have heard Catherine Zeta-Jones referred to as "overweight". But today's conversation with my boss really took the cake.
We had recently found out that a client of ours had been turned down from a role for being too "curvy". To my naive mind, she is very beautiful and slender. So, outraged, I made my opinion known. I told the agents that I felt our client was by no means "curvy" out in the real world, but that didn't seem to matter.
"She has a big bum," my boss said. I tried not to look crestfallen.
It was then explained to me that girls with big asses could never be romantic leads. That no audience member would ever believe that a large-assed girl could be "the one" in some man's life. What my boss explained to me was matter-of-fact, wisdom garnered after so much experience in this business.
That didn't stop it from being awful.
She also mentioned that someone with that figure would be better suited for comedic roles. Whether or not it was meant this way, I understood it to mean that our culture at large does not take the ample-bodied seriously. And it's true. We see overweight men and women in primarily comedic roles, with notable exceptions (Christina Hendricks is not fat by any stretch of the imagination, but I have a hard time picturing many agents taking a chance with other girls of her body type; likewise, James Gandolfini struck it big with such an interesting and dramatic role as Tony Soprano). We equate the larger body with a larger personality - bold, brassy, but ultimately silly and certainly not romantic.
In the world of showbusiness, the cycle perpetuates itself, and seemingly no one makes the rules - and no one stops the buck. Agents will rarely chance working with an actor who doesn't fit a certain mold; they do this because they know casting directors won't hire someone outside "type"; casting directors won't cast against type because they believe audiences won't buy it; audiences are then taught that only thin girls get songs sung about them, and only thin girls fall in love.
And we curvy girls - myself, and those larger than me - learn that we are not "the one," and that no one with a big ass can be an ingenue.
This is a gigantic crock. But it is also a business. Actors are in the business of selling themselves, just as a jeweler would sell a bracelet or a writer would sell a story. To the public at large, and especially in the business, being thin is equated with caring for oneself and being polished. (This opens up other doors pertaining to weight and class, but that is for another time.) But what the public also tends to forget is that, since actors are selling themselves as products, they are not like real people.
In fact, actors are not even the approximation of real people. Stoppard said it best... "actors are the opposite of people". They are chosen not as slices of life, but as "paragons". They are fantasies. But no matter how many times we say it out loud and rationalize that sentiment, it's so hard to shake the cultural mirror that pervades our society.
The media does not, in many ways, reflect life. It reflects what a set group of people believe life should be like. How many times do we need to repeat that before it starts to sink in? How many working actors, and working people, do we have to put through the wringer before normal bodies can be normal again?
The Tragedy of Tonal Dissonance
A big perk of working at the agency is being able to see new theater in the city for free. Last night, I went with the agents to Malfi, Inc. at the Milk Can Theater Company. It was an interesting experience, though a heartbreaking one in some ways.
Malfi, Inc. is an adaptation of John Webster's The Duchess of Malfi. The original is a relentless tragedy, often criticized for its over-the-top violence, though just as often praised for its timelessness and deep social resonance in any era. The work was adapted by Bethany Larsen into a unique and modern version, replacing cardinals with senators and duchesses with socialites.
I'm not going to go into the plot. Let us suffice to say that it involves werewolves and badass mercenaries. It is, in essence, something I might have written myself. I can see why such a play would be tempting for an adaptation; however, watching the play last night, I felt that I could not only see the writer's hand, but also where she went terribly wrong.
The answer lies, as it so often does, in the tone of a piece.
As I mentioned before, the original Malfi is a tragedy. Which was why I was surprised to see the following in the author's written intent:
"When I started working on my adaptation, I looked hard at the framework of the original... How could I make that modern? How could I make that funny?"
Oh dear, dear dear.
Anyone who knows me personally knows that I like to walk the same, strange line between comedy and tragedy, classical and quirky. But, over the almost-two-hour run of the show, it became very clear to me that this play didn't quite know if it was a tragedy or a comedy, born as it was of both mothers. By the end of the play, when every character was brutally murdered, the audience was laughing harder than it had at any of the jokes that had been crafted into the piece.
It was too bad, and dare I say, almost triggering to me personally.
I am nowhere near as successful as Ms. Larsen, but I have been involved in my share of readings, workshops, and even one staged performance. And there is a certain special kind of pain that comes from your audience laughing when it isn't supposed to.
During the final death scene, out of respect to (what I thought was) the authorial intent of the piece, I kept silent, trying to live in the space I thought I was supposed to be in - a space of mourning for these characters. However, the more the bodies hit the floor, the more the laughter pealed. I began to question myself as an audience member, which took me completely out of the play and its world. Was I doing the wrong thing? Is this a comedy?
Whatever Malfi was, it failed to define itself clearly as such. With caricatures for characters, the initial minutes of the play were set up as a satirical comedy. However, when it came time for the ditzy socialite, her slang-spewing, cokehead best friend, and her bizarre family to die, I couldn't bring myself to feel anything, try as I might. I was still unclear at this point whether the people I had been watching for two hours were supposed to be more than two-dimensional. As objects of mockery and vehicles for satire, the writer scarcely seemed to care for these people. How was I supposed to?
To make matters worse(?), two characters caught my eye - and my heart - in a way befitting a tragic piece. The first, Antonio, was soft-spoken but masculine, interesting, and relatable. The second (and more interesting to me) was Daniele, Larsen's Bosola analogue. I was excited by her; she was unlike most other female characters brought to the stage, and the kind of character I had always dreamed of playing in my green and soft days as a theater geek. These two seemed to have little place in the world of Malfi, Inc. Where the Malfis and their cohorts were campy and strange, Antonio and Daniele were utterly human.
During Antonio's demise, and during Daniele's "heel face turn" (sorry about that link, by the way), the play failed to make the jump from campy comedy to serious tragedy, leaving these two dramatic characters behind. The result was awkward confusion and a case of tonal dissonance.
There is something even sadder about this particular case: even if it were perfectly crafted, this play has a definite shelf life. Malfi, Inc. is set very squarely in the early 2000's. Certain references (Angelina Jolie in "Salt") and slang terms (an overabundance of "totes") date this play in a way that will make it impossible to translate in later years. Larsen has effectively taken a timeless play that resonates in any era and created a campy sketch that can only live in one decade.
I hate to be that guy. I really don't usually react this way... when I spend my time at a theater, I REALLY want to like something. I open myself up to where the playwright wants me - it is the least I could do, since it is what I hope an audience would do for me. And Malfi, Inc. wasn't a disaster. There were parts of it I did like, and I truly can respect Larsen for taking the Duchess in a new direction. But until someone figures out if this play wants to be a comedy or a tragedy - and takes it to that place - the result is simply unfortunate and sad.
Malfi, Inc. is an adaptation of John Webster's The Duchess of Malfi. The original is a relentless tragedy, often criticized for its over-the-top violence, though just as often praised for its timelessness and deep social resonance in any era. The work was adapted by Bethany Larsen into a unique and modern version, replacing cardinals with senators and duchesses with socialites.
I'm not going to go into the plot. Let us suffice to say that it involves werewolves and badass mercenaries. It is, in essence, something I might have written myself. I can see why such a play would be tempting for an adaptation; however, watching the play last night, I felt that I could not only see the writer's hand, but also where she went terribly wrong.
The answer lies, as it so often does, in the tone of a piece.
As I mentioned before, the original Malfi is a tragedy. Which was why I was surprised to see the following in the author's written intent:
"When I started working on my adaptation, I looked hard at the framework of the original... How could I make that modern? How could I make that funny?"
Oh dear, dear dear.
Anyone who knows me personally knows that I like to walk the same, strange line between comedy and tragedy, classical and quirky. But, over the almost-two-hour run of the show, it became very clear to me that this play didn't quite know if it was a tragedy or a comedy, born as it was of both mothers. By the end of the play, when every character was brutally murdered, the audience was laughing harder than it had at any of the jokes that had been crafted into the piece.
It was too bad, and dare I say, almost triggering to me personally.
I am nowhere near as successful as Ms. Larsen, but I have been involved in my share of readings, workshops, and even one staged performance. And there is a certain special kind of pain that comes from your audience laughing when it isn't supposed to.
During the final death scene, out of respect to (what I thought was) the authorial intent of the piece, I kept silent, trying to live in the space I thought I was supposed to be in - a space of mourning for these characters. However, the more the bodies hit the floor, the more the laughter pealed. I began to question myself as an audience member, which took me completely out of the play and its world. Was I doing the wrong thing? Is this a comedy?
Whatever Malfi was, it failed to define itself clearly as such. With caricatures for characters, the initial minutes of the play were set up as a satirical comedy. However, when it came time for the ditzy socialite, her slang-spewing, cokehead best friend, and her bizarre family to die, I couldn't bring myself to feel anything, try as I might. I was still unclear at this point whether the people I had been watching for two hours were supposed to be more than two-dimensional. As objects of mockery and vehicles for satire, the writer scarcely seemed to care for these people. How was I supposed to?
To make matters worse(?), two characters caught my eye - and my heart - in a way befitting a tragic piece. The first, Antonio, was soft-spoken but masculine, interesting, and relatable. The second (and more interesting to me) was Daniele, Larsen's Bosola analogue. I was excited by her; she was unlike most other female characters brought to the stage, and the kind of character I had always dreamed of playing in my green and soft days as a theater geek. These two seemed to have little place in the world of Malfi, Inc. Where the Malfis and their cohorts were campy and strange, Antonio and Daniele were utterly human.
During Antonio's demise, and during Daniele's "heel face turn" (sorry about that link, by the way), the play failed to make the jump from campy comedy to serious tragedy, leaving these two dramatic characters behind. The result was awkward confusion and a case of tonal dissonance.
There is something even sadder about this particular case: even if it were perfectly crafted, this play has a definite shelf life. Malfi, Inc. is set very squarely in the early 2000's. Certain references (Angelina Jolie in "Salt") and slang terms (an overabundance of "totes") date this play in a way that will make it impossible to translate in later years. Larsen has effectively taken a timeless play that resonates in any era and created a campy sketch that can only live in one decade.
I hate to be that guy. I really don't usually react this way... when I spend my time at a theater, I REALLY want to like something. I open myself up to where the playwright wants me - it is the least I could do, since it is what I hope an audience would do for me. And Malfi, Inc. wasn't a disaster. There were parts of it I did like, and I truly can respect Larsen for taking the Duchess in a new direction. But until someone figures out if this play wants to be a comedy or a tragedy - and takes it to that place - the result is simply unfortunate and sad.
Wilkommen!
Hello readers, and welcome to "Behind the Curtain."
This blog is still in its infancy, but hopefully it can grow to find its place on the internet. While I am not deluded enough into thinking that my opinions and feelings are interesting to anyone except myself (and a select few... hi mom), I finally found cause to create a blog recently, as I began my foray into the world of agenting in New York City. The way I see it, blogs can - and should - accomplish two things.
1) Advocacy - While I am the last person alive to enjoy political blogs, there is a need for advocacy in this day and age. It wasn't until I hit the blogosphere as an "audience" member that I learned the meaning and importance of such a thing.
2) Education - Teaching isn't just for professors and experts, and learning isn't just for students. The internet is valuable for sharing information and experiences, and works as an important community and sounding board for learning new things.
It is my hope that this blog can fulfill both roles. While I am not an expert by any means on the business and the world of entertainment, I want to share what I learn day by day with anyone who is seeking a life in this industry. Moreover, what I have to say is couched in the philosophy that those in the industry have a social responsibility to Western Culture and to the population at large. I will also offer my thoughts as a writer and a theatergoer, for what it is worth.
I invite anyone to share their knowledge and experience, so long as it is on topic, or to ask any questions about "the business" that they want. Go ahead and use the widget at the bottom of this page, or leave questions in the comment box.
That being said, please enjoy, and be respectful. Without further ado...
This blog is still in its infancy, but hopefully it can grow to find its place on the internet. While I am not deluded enough into thinking that my opinions and feelings are interesting to anyone except myself (and a select few... hi mom), I finally found cause to create a blog recently, as I began my foray into the world of agenting in New York City. The way I see it, blogs can - and should - accomplish two things.
1) Advocacy - While I am the last person alive to enjoy political blogs, there is a need for advocacy in this day and age. It wasn't until I hit the blogosphere as an "audience" member that I learned the meaning and importance of such a thing.
2) Education - Teaching isn't just for professors and experts, and learning isn't just for students. The internet is valuable for sharing information and experiences, and works as an important community and sounding board for learning new things.
It is my hope that this blog can fulfill both roles. While I am not an expert by any means on the business and the world of entertainment, I want to share what I learn day by day with anyone who is seeking a life in this industry. Moreover, what I have to say is couched in the philosophy that those in the industry have a social responsibility to Western Culture and to the population at large. I will also offer my thoughts as a writer and a theatergoer, for what it is worth.
I invite anyone to share their knowledge and experience, so long as it is on topic, or to ask any questions about "the business" that they want. Go ahead and use the widget at the bottom of this page, or leave questions in the comment box.
That being said, please enjoy, and be respectful. Without further ado...
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)