Inequality Control

So Equity has finally spoken out and they’ve started handing out some knuckle-raps to some very naughty theatres. And rightly so. Because these theatres are guilty of trying to pretend us ladies don’t exist and have been putting as few of them as possible on stage.  I’m pleased they’ve decided to do this because it is a genuine problem. Despite not being a minority, women are wildly unrepresented. But the problem is by no means exclusive to the theatre world. It’s a problem that is present in all forms of media.

I feel sorry for the Hampstead Theatre who appear to have been singled out in this story. I understand that the figures don’t look great with productions such as Chariots of Fire which in a cast of 21 only featured 3 women but other theatres are equally guilty. Shakespeare’s Globe announced a few months ago that they would be putting on plays as part of their ‘Original Practices’ season. This means that they will be putting on all-male productions so that audiences can see how plays would’ve been performed in Shakespeare’s time. I apppreciate the gesture guys, but we all saw Gwyneth Paltrow bandaging down her lady lumps in Shakespeare In Love and that was more than enough, thanks. We all know how they did things before women were invented and isn’t that enough? Do theatres really have to do this antiquated method of casting just so they can justify having the wonderful Mark Rylance playing Viola? Shakespeare wrote precious few roles for women as it is so to have them then taken away and given to the boys is a kick in the teeth that I can't afford dentistry for.

But as I said earlier, this problem is certainly not just a theatre issue. Women are terribly misrepresented by television and cinema too. Look at the BAFTA Rising Star award that went out a few months ago. Yes, ladies made into the longlist but when it was released to the public to allow them to vote, the three women were left out and the five men made it into the shortlist. What a horrible result. But we can’t blame the viewing public. They’re the ones that are constantly fed so many leading men that it would make a cannibal blush and while I don’t want the industry to pander to women and give them leading roles as some sort of charity scheme, a bit of equality wouldn’t go amiss. Two of the highest grossing films this year have been The Avengers and Men In Black 3, both very male-heavy films which mainly seem to say that women really have very little place in blockbuster-type films. I realise every time someone makes this argument, someone will rather ironically say the word ‘Bridesmaids.’ Because yes, women have become the bridesmaids while men, yet again, get to play the bride.

And sadly it feels like a sensible solution is very far off. While everyone worries about ticket sales and viewing figures, they continue to make things that they think the public want to see and that will usually inevitably mean a lot of leading men and a few scantily clad women in the background. I don’t want the answer to be theatres putting on all-female seasons because that would feel horribly like knee-jerk charity.  I think we’d all just appreciate it if theatres and television programmes and films would finally admit that women exist and they deserve to be equally represented. Too much to ask? Apparently so.  

Fear Of The Unknown

There are days when I feel supremely positive about my acting career. Those days when I send loads one email out and change the font on my CV. The days when I rearrange my credits on Spotlight and spend two minutes looking up showreel companies. And that time when I spent all of ten seconds thinking about writing my own show. Those are the times when I feel like the hardest working actor this side of a temping job. And then there are days like today. Days like today make me worry about just how seriously I take my career.

I had an acting job today. As events go, this is rather bloody exciting because my acting regime has been about as active as my exercise timetable recently. In fact, rather worryingly, this has been my first acting job since January. At this rate, I can look forward to a bit more work sometime in December and can use my sparse CV to heat the flat. But yes, today I was actually paid to do a bit of acting and that was great. Thing is, I didn't entirely know what it was for. When I applied for it, I knew it would just be as part of an advert on a website. It paid and it sounded easy so of course I fired off my begging letter and, to my surprise, they cast me without even asking me to audition. For some reason, and I'm not sure why, it never really dawned on me to ask what the website/product was. And as it got closer to the day of shooting, I actually rather liked the idea that I didn't know what I was letting myself in for. Aside from the blogging opportunities, it made me feel a little dangerous (and yes, I realise this is about as dangerous as crossing the road when the green man tells you to.)

So I arrived this morning feeling all rather exciting. Who knows what exciting kind of product I was about to talk about. It could have been the newest flavour of crisps meaning that I'd reached the pinnacle of my acting career at the tender age of 28. Excitedly, I signed the release form, desperately scouring it for a clue as to what it would be. In fact, I was doing pieces of three different products, none of which I'd ever heard of. No Walkers. No McCoys. Not even Asda SmartPrice. Damn. Looks like this acting lark is going to be dragged out for a while yet.

Once I'd signed my life away, I was asked to make my way to the shoot which was a couple of minutes down the road. Not a problem. I've left buildings before and walked down the road all on my own. I've been doing it for years almost glitch free so today should be no exception. But of course, it was. I got to the main door downstairs only to find that the door wouldn't open. I searched for a magic green button located nearby that would let me out. Nothing. I desperately flicked a lightswitch numerous times. desperately hoping that it was a door-opener in disguise. Still nothing. I pushed and pulled to the point where I was dangerously close to losing my fee to cover the cost of a new door. Finally, a man who obviously worked there appeared on the other side of the door, took one look at me flailing around like a fly in a bottle and let me out. Good start.

The rest of the shoot was actually turned out to be fairly painless. I was very quickly briefed on the products, told what to say and that was it.  Although it was being shot on a very busy high street full of very normal people who obviously hadn't seen a camera before. Firstly we had to contend with the man who seemed to deliberately turn up his very frantic jazz everytime action was called. And there was also the poor man who, while trying to buy a coffee, was shouted at by the director because he couldn't take his eyes away from the camera lens. A group of foreign students also watched and looked utterly dismayed as they were rewarded with the sight of me hitching my skirt up as I came very close to feeding my radio mic through my knickers. After that I think word spread around London pretty quickly and we were barely bothered again.

But despite the general public and the fact that I was improvising about things I'd never heard of before, it was all done very quickly. In fact, rather worryingly, in the two jobs I've done this year, I've spent about 30 minutes on set. Best put that BAFTA Fellowship on hold, folks...

And The Award Goes To

After castings calls, BAFTA* are often the next source of my frustration. I take out a lot on them. To be honest, I pretty much blame them for anything that goes wrong in my career. The fact that I've yet to be on TV (apart from my 2 seconds smiling and nodding next to someone else) is entirely their fault. The fact that I still haven't been in a film that doesn't involve a feckless student fumbling around with a third-rate camera is also their fault. And the fact that I still haven't won a bloody BAFTA? Most definitely their fault.

So, it was with gritted teeth and envious eyes that I watched the BAFTA TV awards last night. I mean, I say watched, but I actually switched on for the final hour. Thankfully I managed to catch both Emily Watson's and Dominic West's beautifully eloquent speeches and although I haven't yet seen Appropriate Adult, I couldn't agree more with their receiving of awards. This Is England '88 were also worthy winners as was Borgen, Stewart Lee, Rolf Harris, Monica Dolan and Steven Moffat. But then the downsides came along. Two massive downsides...

Firstly I can't do a blog about the BAFTAs without mentioning the thoroughly depressing award for 'Reality & Structured Factual.' It's such a heart-sinking title that has left my little ticker thrashing and flailing for air. BAFTA's mission statement on their website reads as:

The British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) supports, promotes and develops the art forms of the moving image - film, television and video games - by identifying and rewarding excellence, inspiring practitioners and benefiting the public.
As the leading charity in the UK supporting the art forms of the moving image, BAFTA ensures that the very best creative work can be accessed and appreciated by the public.

So how the heck does promoting utter dross such as Made In Chelsea help them do this? How on Earth does a show that follows the made up and inconsequential lives of a few fame hungry airheads in west London help promote art forms? I understand that these programmes are bafflingly popular but it's so distressing to see these shows being made and promoted when we're told that there's not enough money for well-made dramas and comedy to be produced. We are capable of producing such wonderful programmes in this country and it's very upsetting to see a show that promotes an image that you can only be viewed as successful if you prance about in Mahiki every night being recognised by an organisation that's supposed to support the arts.

And then we get onto my next gripe... the fact that not all the awards were aired. Now, I realise that it would take a long time to show all 27 awards being handed out but maybe, instead of encouraging those giving awards to indulge in the type of banter that makes your whole body cringe, they could dedicate that time to making sure that all awards are aired. But as it was, a number of awards including those for Best Single Drama, Best Comedy Series, Best Single Documentary and Best Current Affairs. Now what does that say to you about the world of television? What Dominic West said in his speech is true; television is an incredibly important resource in ensuring the world is educated. But BAFTA seem to think that constructed reality shows and the coverage of The Royal Wedding are far more important than programmes that uncover the truth about our care systems and wonderfully made dramas. That's the sorry state that television has got itself into and it's sad to see a company that is perceived as the one that upholds quality and important programming, is helping to TV on its downward spiral.


*BAFTA, if you're reading this, I will totally delete this blog if you finally come to your senses and hand over that award that I totally deserve...thanks...

Rising Stars

As promised, after yesterday's rambly, whiny and way too long blog, today I'll be bitching and moaning about this...

http://bafta.orange.co.uk/rising-star-award/

To be honest, the following could be today's blog...

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH(why am I surprised about this?!)HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH(why does the acting world hate women quite so much?!)HHHHHHHHHHHHHHH(wow, I wish I'd paid more attention in voice classes, this is really starting to hurt)HHhhhhhhhhhh.......

But that would be lazy and anyway, I've already stepped out of the house today to post a letter so clearly I'm not the lazy type. No. Instead I shall rant and rave for a few paragraphs until I exhaust myself out, read some much better articles that have already been released about the very same subject and dedicate the rest of the day to playing Jetpack Joyride (the most addictive game in the world. FACT.)

I'm going to try not to cover old ground with this because I've already written about the so-called gender divide in the world of acting. The high horse of feminism isn't one that I try to get up on too often, mainly because I have very short legs and look alarming in a pair of jodhpurs. However, I do feel that the world of acting is very much geared towards men and some of the biggest roles out there are the ones that can only be played if you have certain man-type bits. Just a quick look at the highest grossing films of 2011 supports this...

1. Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows Part 2 (yes, I know there's Hermione but we all saw the Equus photos and that wizard is definitely a boy.)

2. Transformers: Dark of the Moon (I know little about this film but I think we can safely presume that it's mainly full of men with a few scantily clad women thrown in for good measure.)

3. Twilight - Breaking Dawn Part 1 (I refuse to take part in this franchise but I do know that the story revolves around an odd looking man-boy.)

4. The Hangover - Part 2 (more men.)

5. Pirates of the Caribbean - On Stranger Tides (Captain Jack Sparrow. Need I say more?)

So really none of us should be surprised that there aren't any women featured in this list. When all the voting public gets to see are these films lead by men while the women get to pose in the background wearing next to nothing, it's hardly a shock when they think that the future of acting lies firmly on more manly type shoulders. And sadly it looks like the situation isn't going to improve. Cameron has now announced that he wants the British film industry to focus on making box office hits rather than nurturing new talent. Now, putting The Iron Lady aside (because I for one really don't want Thatcher to be the one female representative in the world of acting) I think it's safe to say that all these films are going to focus on them boys. And yes, us ladies will be allowed a look in but you can guarantee it will be looking over the shoulder of a man.


I was going to pass judgement on those who were lucky enough to find themselves in the list of nominees but that would be pointless. I haven't been able to find what the actual criteria is for this award so it's difficult to judge who should and who shouldn't be there. However, it's upsetting to see that Chris O'Dowd made the list while all his female co-stars in Bridesmaids were overlooked. It's also worrying that these actors are considered 'rising stars' when some of them were starring in hit films as far back as 2006. Apparently it can take another six years before the film industry will finally acknowledge your increasing popularity.

And what about the women left off the list? There are a lot of ladies who fully deserve to be recognised. The long-list for the award consisted of eight performers and it was the three women on this list, Jessica Chastain, Felicity Jones and Jennifer Lawrence, that didn't make it to the shortlist. But what about the others? All of these actresses have been doing incredible things lately, as have Andrea Riseborough, Christina Hendricks and Miss L who was awesome as Police Officer Number Two back in 2008. But, in all seriousness, it's tragic to see these women and their hard work be overlooked. And I'm not suggesting that none of these men deserve to be recognised but we have these women and the public has sadly failed to help them and their acting talent be recognised.

Sadly I don't know how we change things. While the film industry desperately tries to ensure that it keeps making money, it will keep making films that it thinks the public want to see. And until the public decide that they want to see Miss L in her very own film, the world of movies will be a very sad place to be. 

Contrasts

Yesterday was very much a day of two halves. So much so that I intended to split the day up into two blogs. Firstly so that you didn't get thoroughly bored and secondly so I'd have something to write about tomorrow. However, this happened and there's no way I'm letting that go un-blogged so I'm afraid today you'll have to put up with a full and rambling account of my day yesterday. If you wish to complain then I suggest you send your letters to BAFTA for this is really their fault.

So, back to yesterday. After weeks of aimlessly wandering around in my pyjamas, constantly worrying about the stilton in the fridge that we still haven't managed to finish, I found myself suddenly very busy. The day started with a photoshoot where I was playing a dentist. It was a lovely job and exceedingly easy but it was only when I was relaying my experience in the pub last night when I realised just how lucky I'd been with this one. Firstly I didn't even apply for it. They just contacted me out of the blue and asked if I'd like the job. When I'm not dreaming about being cast in the new Carry On film and having to learn how to do impressions of Sid James and Kenneth Williams (true) I'm dreaming about jobs that involve very little work on my part. I turned up, had a lovely time in make up and costume and then sat on a very comfy sofa in the green room surrounded by a plentiful supply of crisps, biscuits and tea. After a panic about the shoot running late, everything was suddenly back on a track and I was called into the studio. Three minutes later and my shots were done. That was it. I'd just been paid to smile at a camera for 180 seconds. And to top it all off, in the time that I'd been in the studio, Italy's entire stock of pizzas had been delivered. Even though I was leaving, I was urged to take as much as I wanted and I left with a spring in my step and a lovely layer of dough around my heart.

It was then time to head off to my audition which I did with a sense of dread. I'd already been told that I'd be there for the whole afternoon and that there would be a lot of improvisation involved. I realise that as an actress, this kind of thing should get me really excited. I should relish in the opportunity to exercise my creative muscles for a whole afternoon or some rubbish like that. Instead all I felt was a sick feeling in my stomach which may have been down to essentially eating pizza and crisps for breakfast but was mainly down to the knowledge that all this afternoon would really be about was showing off. And really, I wasn't wrong.

We'd been told that the room was open for 30 minutes beforehand should people wish to warm up. I know it's unprofessional to say so but I've never been a fan of undulating around a room while chanting tongue twisters. I know it works for many people but I just get bored. If I'm ever forced into a warm up then I'll do a bit of overly dramatic breathing, do a couple of scales and then touch my toes a couple of times. This warm up is about as effective as sitting in a freezer with a Calippo. Thankfully I entered the room and everyone was sat quietly. Some were reading, some were playing with their phones and a couple were chatting in hushed tones. However, there was one person warming up. Normally this wouldn't be a problem. Normally warm ups are pretty inoffensive and they should have very little impact upon the other people in the room. However, it's very hard not to punch someone when there is an actor in the room overdramatising yoga poses while he performs voice exercises like a pantomime Dame. It was horrific and it went on for a whole twenty minutes.

Thankfully the audition eventually started and everyone was bloody lovely. The show sounded great and the director seemed to know exactly what she was doing which is as rare as me eating raw tomatoes. The whole afternoon was spent devising and improvising various scenes and while it wasn't anywhere near as gut-wrenching as I thought it would be, it certainly had its moments. In this room you have 15 actors, all who want to be noticed. While a handful of us held back and remained sensible about the whole thing, others hammed it up so much that it would make a pig blush. I wasn't aware you could enunciate every syllable in a sentence while simultaneously gesturing every word. Nor did I know just how much overracting could contort someone's face. I felt less like I was in an audition room and more like I was stuck forever in the most bone-chilling freak show known to man. I will admit that it did feel nice to just mess about for a few hours and enjoy my job for what it is (telling a story with a ball of wool and a hat) but I've never breathed such a sign of relief as I did when I was finally released from the gurning circus from Hell.

Thankfully I'm back to normal today and instead of getting angry at people forcing others to sing Abba songs just because they're desperate to get a job, I can use my time to allow myself to get wound up by BAFTA judges. I've got a whole 24 hours to get increasingly angry about this so check back tomorrow for overly long sentences desperately trying to convey just how annoyed I am.