So, following on from yesterday's entry, I finally heard back from the hapless students to say that they'd like to see me for an audition today. I mean, they wanted to see me tomorrow when they contacted me but now it's today and today is the day I saw them...you understand, right? If not, the short answer is that I saw them today. Anyway, it seemed that someone was listening to all my bitching and moaning about waiting as they said they wanted to see me at 8am. Yep. AM. Not pm, the time when most people are out and about and functioning but AM. The time when all the good people of the world are still, at the very most, lounging around in their pyjamas and wondering what they're going to do with their day. They're not racing into town to audition for an unpaid student film.
I realise this sounds massively lazy and diva-like of me to say this but is anyone really at their best at 8am? When I used to work, my shift started at 8am so I'm perfectly capable of dragging myself out of my cosy little bed when it's still dark and forcing myself to face the world at a time when it really shouldn't be seen. However, that job just required me to hide behind a computer, play around with Excel spreadsheets and be shouted at by customers with a job lot of both time and money on their hands. No one there would be offended by my bleary-eyed, wild-haired early morning look. A camera, on the other hand, does not need to see me in pre-breakfast fashion. It causes lenses to crack and microphones to shudder. So I asked for another time slot and, god bless their little student loan funded socks, they gave me one a few hours later.
So off I went this morning. Note to self: if you're going to ask for a later time slot, don't then turn up late. Yes, it was the fault of the ever-faithful Northern line which, very much like my laptop, manages to run at its slowest when I really need to it be running at its quickest. Thankfully, I was greeted by the most lovely group of students you could probably ever hope to meet. Despite the nagging feeling in the back of my head that I was probably old enough to be their great grandmother, I had a grand ol' time chatting away to them and working on the script. They were friendly, intelligent and a lot of fun. They seemed to like what I was doing with the script but for some reason my brain wasn't quite grasping what they were asking me to do. We ran through one of the sections of dialogue, they then directed me a bit and asked me to do it again. One of the directions they gave me was to add a bit more sarcasm to one of the lines. Surely that should be easy. When no one wants sarcasm, I bring it to the yard in a flash like an uninvited flasher. So when someone asks for it, why are both my brain and mouth both refusing to co-operate? Why are they similarly struggling with the terms 'confident', 'hesitant' and 'dismissive?' These are all terms that I understand and practice on a daily basis so why isn't it quite working? . We did a few more sections from the script and although it all felt 'OK', there was a horrible feeling that it all wasn't just quite good enough. Sadly, I just think there are days when your body just has other plans
for the day and god help anyone who tries to add an amendment to their
itinerary
And the battle for work continues. Or it would if I'd actually applied for anything today. Maybe I should just hire myself out to students who fancy practicing barking simple orders at weak and feeble actors and watching them squirm under the very little pressure put upon them. Could be quite the little money-making scheme. Or at the very least it might bring me up to speed with the rest of the world and finally teach me how to deal with the most basic of commands.
Thursday, 13 October 2011
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
The Waiting Game
When you're self-employed, there's a whole lot of waiting going on. Of course, you try and do as much work as possible but ultimately, your ability to work lies in the hands of others. Hands that often have much better things to be doing and probably twiddle their thumbs for quite a considerable amount of time before they pick up a phone or laptop and decide they want to get in touch with you. I'm fairly sure that being self-employed means that you're meant to be your own boss but I feel like my career is at the mercy of others more than ever before.
I applied for a student film the other day and almost instantly received a reply back to say that they would send a script across within the next hour. Excellent. Suddenly my rather empty and bare looking day was starting to look like it was bearing unpaid and slightly unfulfilling fruit. So I waited. And then I waited some more. Finally I waited further to wait even more. And after all this waiting, still nothing appeared. Three days it took for the script to get to me. Now I'm a patient and understanding sort (unless public transport is involved) and I realise that things can crop up which can cause unforseen delays. I also understand that students need to learn and that if you put yourself up for a film made by university students who are still floudering somewhere in the depths of the learning curve then things may not always run smoothly. However, I'm pretty sure it doesn't take three days to attach a script to an email. Or have I been doing attachments all wrong? Because of this delay, I've been given 24 hours notice for the casting which is supposedly tomorrow. Now I'm totally free tomorrow but they don't know that. For all they know, I could be the busiest bee in the hive who has just received a massive honey order. Lucky for them that I only have tea drinking, cereal eating and general moping about in pyjamas pencilled in for tomorrow.
I should be used to the whole waiting thing by now. A few years ago I was contacted about a feature film which looked properly exciting. The director contacted me in the afternoon to see if I was available that evening for a casting. I said that I was and he said he was just arranging where to hold it and that he'd be in touch as soon as possible to let me know. Excellent. I hurriedly got myself ready, rifled through my wardrobe to get the perfect outfit and then I waited. Oh how I waited. I waited until it was impossible to wait anymore. By now it was nearly 9pm and it looked like I wasn't going to hear anything. I tried calling the director back but there was no answer. I texted and emailed to check that everyhing was ok but still nothing. Finally I de-make-upped myself, got back into my pyjamas and figured it just wasn't meant to be. Two days later I finally got an email from the director to say that they had found another actress who they felt was more suitable for the role so they would no longer be needing to see me. There was a brief 'sorry for not getting back to you the other evening' type sentence and then that was it. Apparently making someone wait around for hours until you click your fingers and beckon them across London is totally normal. However, I wasn't then aware that there was a further slap in the face to come. About four months later I get an email from the director out of the blue to say that a role had become available in the film and he wondered whether I could speak perfect 'Fusha' which is basically modern standard Arabic. As I've stated in this blog before, I don't know why directors think I would keep the fact that I speak another language a well-guarded secret. I explained that unfortunately I couldn't and I then received an email telling me how disappointing that news was and how I was almost definitely losing jobs because of it. And then on top of that, I received a full-on berating of my choice of headshot. Thanks. Thanks very much.
But at least most of this waiting was conducted in the comfort of my own home. Waiting at a casting is a million times worse. I went up for an advert casting a while ago and they'd asked people to turn up anytime between 2 and 5pm. Naturally, most people arrived at 2pm and there was already about 50 people there when I arrived. The casting was a pretty quick affair but unfortunately there was a powercut after the second or third person had gone in. The casting director halted proceedings, had a full-blown argument with the poor girl on reception and the builders outside who had caused the loss of power and while all this is going on, even more unsuspecting actors are arriving until the waiting room is just a sea of well-groomed bodies. It took two and a half hours to be seen, in that time we had all spoken, asked each other almost every question possible, discussed every topic available and exhausted conversation so much that a stony silence descended back on the room. When work is so scarce, walk-outs are a rarity at an audition. However, at this one, I'm pretty sure the god of acting work looked down on us that day for sticking around.
So, even after writing this blog, I'm still waiting to hear about this damn film. My bedroom has become a waiting room and Doctor Theatre does not have room for me today.
I applied for a student film the other day and almost instantly received a reply back to say that they would send a script across within the next hour. Excellent. Suddenly my rather empty and bare looking day was starting to look like it was bearing unpaid and slightly unfulfilling fruit. So I waited. And then I waited some more. Finally I waited further to wait even more. And after all this waiting, still nothing appeared. Three days it took for the script to get to me. Now I'm a patient and understanding sort (unless public transport is involved) and I realise that things can crop up which can cause unforseen delays. I also understand that students need to learn and that if you put yourself up for a film made by university students who are still floudering somewhere in the depths of the learning curve then things may not always run smoothly. However, I'm pretty sure it doesn't take three days to attach a script to an email. Or have I been doing attachments all wrong? Because of this delay, I've been given 24 hours notice for the casting which is supposedly tomorrow. Now I'm totally free tomorrow but they don't know that. For all they know, I could be the busiest bee in the hive who has just received a massive honey order. Lucky for them that I only have tea drinking, cereal eating and general moping about in pyjamas pencilled in for tomorrow.
I should be used to the whole waiting thing by now. A few years ago I was contacted about a feature film which looked properly exciting. The director contacted me in the afternoon to see if I was available that evening for a casting. I said that I was and he said he was just arranging where to hold it and that he'd be in touch as soon as possible to let me know. Excellent. I hurriedly got myself ready, rifled through my wardrobe to get the perfect outfit and then I waited. Oh how I waited. I waited until it was impossible to wait anymore. By now it was nearly 9pm and it looked like I wasn't going to hear anything. I tried calling the director back but there was no answer. I texted and emailed to check that everyhing was ok but still nothing. Finally I de-make-upped myself, got back into my pyjamas and figured it just wasn't meant to be. Two days later I finally got an email from the director to say that they had found another actress who they felt was more suitable for the role so they would no longer be needing to see me. There was a brief 'sorry for not getting back to you the other evening' type sentence and then that was it. Apparently making someone wait around for hours until you click your fingers and beckon them across London is totally normal. However, I wasn't then aware that there was a further slap in the face to come. About four months later I get an email from the director out of the blue to say that a role had become available in the film and he wondered whether I could speak perfect 'Fusha' which is basically modern standard Arabic. As I've stated in this blog before, I don't know why directors think I would keep the fact that I speak another language a well-guarded secret. I explained that unfortunately I couldn't and I then received an email telling me how disappointing that news was and how I was almost definitely losing jobs because of it. And then on top of that, I received a full-on berating of my choice of headshot. Thanks. Thanks very much.
But at least most of this waiting was conducted in the comfort of my own home. Waiting at a casting is a million times worse. I went up for an advert casting a while ago and they'd asked people to turn up anytime between 2 and 5pm. Naturally, most people arrived at 2pm and there was already about 50 people there when I arrived. The casting was a pretty quick affair but unfortunately there was a powercut after the second or third person had gone in. The casting director halted proceedings, had a full-blown argument with the poor girl on reception and the builders outside who had caused the loss of power and while all this is going on, even more unsuspecting actors are arriving until the waiting room is just a sea of well-groomed bodies. It took two and a half hours to be seen, in that time we had all spoken, asked each other almost every question possible, discussed every topic available and exhausted conversation so much that a stony silence descended back on the room. When work is so scarce, walk-outs are a rarity at an audition. However, at this one, I'm pretty sure the god of acting work looked down on us that day for sticking around.
So, even after writing this blog, I'm still waiting to hear about this damn film. My bedroom has become a waiting room and Doctor Theatre does not have room for me today.
Monday, 10 October 2011
Charity Hilarity
In this un-saving-life job that we do, it's always heart-warming when you can actually do something which might save a life or two. Yep, you can take comfort from the fact that your performance might just entertain someone for a few minutes and let them forget about all the other life-saving duties they have to attend to in the other thousand or so minutes in their day but they will go back to their normal lives and your little stint as a mouse will just become a footnote in their biography. Although we can give people a little respite in their daily lives (unless your performance/show is so dire that you just make them grateful that they're not you) ultimately the world goes on and the way in which you portrayed a gay man will never alter someone's course. Having said that, my 3 month stint of playing a gay man was so awful that I'm sure it made some people reassess their sexuality.
Yesterday I went down to the Block the Bridge, Block the Bill protests on Westminter Bridge to try and stop the NHS reforms. If you don't know much about it then I urge you to read this article which explains things better than I ever could. I'm not a huge protester (they often happen at the weekend and therefore usually clash with a hot date I've got lined up with my duvet, kettle and a family bag of crisps) but the NHS means a lot to me as my mum has been employed by them for most of my life and also the boyfriend was performing at the protest. A gorgeous handful of comedians and musicians performed to do what they could to try and stop these terrible changes happening to one of the most precious things that this country has (it's not quite as precious as my Elmo toy but y'know, it's close) and it was so encouraging to see a group of people take time out and use their skills to try and make a difference. It was a most excellent day with no violence and I really hope that it can help in some way to save this most precious commodity.
I've done a couple of things in my chequered acting past which I hope have made the slightest bit of difference but sadly the opportunities are few and far between and unfortunately the heart-warming glow that I should've come away with hasn't always been there. A few years ago I filmed a commercial for a particular UK wide charity run for cancer where I had to pretend to be one of the runners for their TV and print campaigns. This may have felt like a worthwhile job if we hadn't been filming during one of the real runs where thousands of people were doing the run for real. They were running for real and legitimate reasons while we were there pretending to be running for pretend loved ones. So instead of feeling like I was making a difference, I felt like a fraud as I posed on the start line looking ready to run for a good cause. I then waited for everyone to race off and then sauntered to the finish line to pretend that I'd actually achieved something. But of course, my cold, empty heart would be warmed up by the fact that this advert would encourage thousands of people to enter the race and raise money to help fight this disease. Or at least it would've done if the advert had ever aired. Best put some more anti-freeze on the ol' ticker.
The other way in which an actor can at least attempt to make a difference is through TIE. This was the first job that I did on leaving drama school and was probably the best thing I could've done as if there's another job that can bring an actor back down to earth then I've yet to encounter it. Horribly early mornings, confusing drives to schools in the middle of nowhere and then soul-destroying performances to kids that really wish you weren't there. The play I was in was about the dangers of heroin and of all the TIE plays I've encountered, it was probably one of the best written. I played a 9 year old girl who was soon to turn 10 and she gets a grim look into her heroin-filled future. This play should've been an amazing opporunity to educate children about the horrors of drugs and even though it may have made a few of them think, I imagine most were quite indifferent to our slightly patronising ramblings. We went to schools that required us to walk through metal detectors and be body searched and we were told by teachers to keep our belongings on us at all times, even during performances. I'm fairly sure me skipping about in a flouncy white party dress as other actors took part in a 'rave' would just encourage these kids to turn to drugs. I was often heckled the second I walked on stage and although a handful of kids seemed genuinely interested, most shows went down like a lead-filled lead balloon which is tied up with lead string.
I think we were meant to take comfort from the fact that even if we saved just one child then our efforts were completely worthwhile. However, for each child saved, I'm fairly sure another actor was pushed to the brink and forced to seek solace from various vices. Oh well, I'm sure killing off a few actors is worth it if we're saving the adults of tomorrow. It frees up some of the acting work if nothing else and ultimately, isn't that what we're all striving for?
Yesterday I went down to the Block the Bridge, Block the Bill protests on Westminter Bridge to try and stop the NHS reforms. If you don't know much about it then I urge you to read this article which explains things better than I ever could. I'm not a huge protester (they often happen at the weekend and therefore usually clash with a hot date I've got lined up with my duvet, kettle and a family bag of crisps) but the NHS means a lot to me as my mum has been employed by them for most of my life and also the boyfriend was performing at the protest. A gorgeous handful of comedians and musicians performed to do what they could to try and stop these terrible changes happening to one of the most precious things that this country has (it's not quite as precious as my Elmo toy but y'know, it's close) and it was so encouraging to see a group of people take time out and use their skills to try and make a difference. It was a most excellent day with no violence and I really hope that it can help in some way to save this most precious commodity.
I've done a couple of things in my chequered acting past which I hope have made the slightest bit of difference but sadly the opportunities are few and far between and unfortunately the heart-warming glow that I should've come away with hasn't always been there. A few years ago I filmed a commercial for a particular UK wide charity run for cancer where I had to pretend to be one of the runners for their TV and print campaigns. This may have felt like a worthwhile job if we hadn't been filming during one of the real runs where thousands of people were doing the run for real. They were running for real and legitimate reasons while we were there pretending to be running for pretend loved ones. So instead of feeling like I was making a difference, I felt like a fraud as I posed on the start line looking ready to run for a good cause. I then waited for everyone to race off and then sauntered to the finish line to pretend that I'd actually achieved something. But of course, my cold, empty heart would be warmed up by the fact that this advert would encourage thousands of people to enter the race and raise money to help fight this disease. Or at least it would've done if the advert had ever aired. Best put some more anti-freeze on the ol' ticker.
The other way in which an actor can at least attempt to make a difference is through TIE. This was the first job that I did on leaving drama school and was probably the best thing I could've done as if there's another job that can bring an actor back down to earth then I've yet to encounter it. Horribly early mornings, confusing drives to schools in the middle of nowhere and then soul-destroying performances to kids that really wish you weren't there. The play I was in was about the dangers of heroin and of all the TIE plays I've encountered, it was probably one of the best written. I played a 9 year old girl who was soon to turn 10 and she gets a grim look into her heroin-filled future. This play should've been an amazing opporunity to educate children about the horrors of drugs and even though it may have made a few of them think, I imagine most were quite indifferent to our slightly patronising ramblings. We went to schools that required us to walk through metal detectors and be body searched and we were told by teachers to keep our belongings on us at all times, even during performances. I'm fairly sure me skipping about in a flouncy white party dress as other actors took part in a 'rave' would just encourage these kids to turn to drugs. I was often heckled the second I walked on stage and although a handful of kids seemed genuinely interested, most shows went down like a lead-filled lead balloon which is tied up with lead string.
I think we were meant to take comfort from the fact that even if we saved just one child then our efforts were completely worthwhile. However, for each child saved, I'm fairly sure another actor was pushed to the brink and forced to seek solace from various vices. Oh well, I'm sure killing off a few actors is worth it if we're saving the adults of tomorrow. It frees up some of the acting work if nothing else and ultimately, isn't that what we're all striving for?
Friday, 7 October 2011
Proactively Acting
We were often reminded at drama school how lucky we were to be there. How we had been picked over the countless other individuals who had applied and that we should never take our coveted positions for granted. I'm sure much of this was propaganda to stop us from complaining when we had to do another class on the sound of the letter 'e' (I often wonder if my drama school is otherwise known as the Sesame Street Academy) and ensure that we didn't just use Alexander Technique classes as a chance to sleep off our hangover. I once remember reading that based on applications made to the number of spaces available, getting into an accredited drama school is more competitive than getting into Oxbridge. This type of statistic horrifies me because not only am I very uncompetitive but it really shouldn't be harder to get into somewhere that teaches you how to accurately portray a cow than somewhere that teaches you how to single-handedly save the world (I assume this is all they teach there...)
However, once you've been through drama school you realise that it's the bit on the other side that's the tough part. And this wonderful article in The Guardian yesterday explains this better than I ever could. I firmly believe that drama schools do need to do more to prepare their students for the outside world. Apart from one particular drama school, I think the rest are guilty of making their students believe that the path of a graduated thesp are paved with castings, auditions and roles galore. Of course it's not. It's bloody tough and unless you land yourself with a damn good agent, you walk out feeling as alone as The Lone Ranger after being dumped the day before Valentine's Day. Most drama school students have very little experience of the acting industry and you're therefore lead to believe that some big casting director in the sky will wave their magic wand on the day you leave and that the rest of your life will be a whirlwind of West End shows, independent films and BAFTA winning TV appearances. No one explains that the experience for most actors is that you'll feel lucky when a student who is younger than you offers you three lines in their 10 minute film in return for a bag of crisps and a cup of tea (to be fair, I will do most things for crisps and tea.) After a few months of emailing yourself, checking your voicemail constantly and having a morning battle with your postman, you realise that in fact that they're all functioning normally and it's just you that isn't working. Although I should add that not long after graduating, my voicemail stopped working for about two weeks. It miraculously started working again and I found, amongst the countless messages from friends asking if I was going out that night/where did I fancy meeting that night/where did I disappear to at the end of the night, a message offering me what would have been my first professional role. The date for the job had been and gone by this point and a lifetime's supply of swears was dispatched in 5 seconds flat.
But the truth is that drama schools need to be realistic with their students. Just because it's always been well documented that there's a lack of work out there doesn't mean that that's a legitimate excuse to thrust their graduates, shaking and clueless, in the big bad world of unemployment. Surely there should be an emphasis on teaching actors to add more strings to their poorly working one-stringed bow. The skills to write, direct and produce have become just as important now if you decide that you can wait no longer for the magic job fairy to come knocking at the door and therefore need to start making your own work. Sadly the year I left drama school, there was very much a feel of 'screw you guys, I'm off to make myself famous and I look forward to trampling on all of you while I'm at it.' And while that competitive spirit is partly necessary, it also makes you a horrible human being and has actually lead to a lot of my year falling by the wayside and were left flailing around in the ditches of the acting industry. Now this could of course be more down to my particular year (which was so combative that stage fighting classes were almost deemed unnecessary) but not once during our training were we encouraged to get out there and do our own thing. We were never told that we could create our own work and were instead taught that we were precious, talented beings who would be constantly fought over.
Of course, writing this blog should mean that I'm now myself encouraged to get out and create my own work. But then there's also the chance that my big break is just around the corner so there's no need. Let me just check my email's working one more time...
However, once you've been through drama school you realise that it's the bit on the other side that's the tough part. And this wonderful article in The Guardian yesterday explains this better than I ever could. I firmly believe that drama schools do need to do more to prepare their students for the outside world. Apart from one particular drama school, I think the rest are guilty of making their students believe that the path of a graduated thesp are paved with castings, auditions and roles galore. Of course it's not. It's bloody tough and unless you land yourself with a damn good agent, you walk out feeling as alone as The Lone Ranger after being dumped the day before Valentine's Day. Most drama school students have very little experience of the acting industry and you're therefore lead to believe that some big casting director in the sky will wave their magic wand on the day you leave and that the rest of your life will be a whirlwind of West End shows, independent films and BAFTA winning TV appearances. No one explains that the experience for most actors is that you'll feel lucky when a student who is younger than you offers you three lines in their 10 minute film in return for a bag of crisps and a cup of tea (to be fair, I will do most things for crisps and tea.) After a few months of emailing yourself, checking your voicemail constantly and having a morning battle with your postman, you realise that in fact that they're all functioning normally and it's just you that isn't working. Although I should add that not long after graduating, my voicemail stopped working for about two weeks. It miraculously started working again and I found, amongst the countless messages from friends asking if I was going out that night/where did I fancy meeting that night/where did I disappear to at the end of the night, a message offering me what would have been my first professional role. The date for the job had been and gone by this point and a lifetime's supply of swears was dispatched in 5 seconds flat.
But the truth is that drama schools need to be realistic with their students. Just because it's always been well documented that there's a lack of work out there doesn't mean that that's a legitimate excuse to thrust their graduates, shaking and clueless, in the big bad world of unemployment. Surely there should be an emphasis on teaching actors to add more strings to their poorly working one-stringed bow. The skills to write, direct and produce have become just as important now if you decide that you can wait no longer for the magic job fairy to come knocking at the door and therefore need to start making your own work. Sadly the year I left drama school, there was very much a feel of 'screw you guys, I'm off to make myself famous and I look forward to trampling on all of you while I'm at it.' And while that competitive spirit is partly necessary, it also makes you a horrible human being and has actually lead to a lot of my year falling by the wayside and were left flailing around in the ditches of the acting industry. Now this could of course be more down to my particular year (which was so combative that stage fighting classes were almost deemed unnecessary) but not once during our training were we encouraged to get out there and do our own thing. We were never told that we could create our own work and were instead taught that we were precious, talented beings who would be constantly fought over.
Of course, writing this blog should mean that I'm now myself encouraged to get out and create my own work. But then there's also the chance that my big break is just around the corner so there's no need. Let me just check my email's working one more time...
Thursday, 6 October 2011
Temporary Measures
Today I sold my soul to the devil. Today I dragged myself out of bed at an ungodly hour (it was so early that I had to set an alarm) and hauled my tea and sleep deprived body into 'town.' Dressed all smart like, I got to spend an hour this morning pretending to be just like everyone else who actually does a proper job for a living. Like the dullest undercover spy that there ever was, I sat with my book on the bus and looked exactly like all the other people who get paid to do things. I bet they all thought I was going off to do an honest day's work for an honest day's pay but like the amazing secret agent that I am, I wasn't. I was going to sign up to a temping agency.
After nearly two months of living in denial, existing on the scraps of currency that were found in my bank/purse/sofa, I finally had to face up to the fact that I will need to work if I want to continue living off more than thin air. So off I went ready to sign my life away to the world of work while I pointlessly explained to some unsympathetic being about how I really want to make a career out of hanging around theatres and film sets. But how wrong I was. I was instead faced with a lovely person who totally understood what I wanted (apparently I'm not the first and only person in the world who wants both money and their dream job) and they'll let me earn some cash when I'm not prancing off to auditions, actually doing some acting work or in desperate need of a lie-in.
But don't worry. just because Miss L has now entered the corporate world, this doesn't mean that clumsiness and stupidity don't rule the day. I managed to stand by the front door to the office for nearly five minutes, buzzing up to reception because the door didn't open. It's only when someone else walked straight in that I realised both my feeble arms and inability to complete simple tasks were in charge yet again. I also managed to knock the numerous forms that I was supposed to fill out from the hands of the receptionist and sent them cascading across the office floor. I think you'll agree that I set quite the professional imperssion when I enter a room. However, I'm pretty sure that I aced the spelling test (it's spelt 'compewtur' right?) and I managed to continue with the typing test when I realised that I was typing up a piece about how insecure the job market is and how you need to ensure that you're doing something that you love. As texts go, I'm fairly sure this isn't the most inspiring to have when you're sat in a very artificially lit, cramped room typing away to get money because the job you really want won't give you a penny.
So now I've doubled my disappointment when my phone doesn't ring. Now there will be days when even more people realise they don't require my services and even more industries decide they'd rather have nothing to do with me. Or maybe it'll be the other way round and I'll find that everyone discovers that they all need a piece of Miss L. I'll be so in demand that I'll top the 'Most Wanted' charts. Maybe.
Check back tomorrow for a guaranteed entry inspired by neediness, desperation and an empty purse.
After nearly two months of living in denial, existing on the scraps of currency that were found in my bank/purse/sofa, I finally had to face up to the fact that I will need to work if I want to continue living off more than thin air. So off I went ready to sign my life away to the world of work while I pointlessly explained to some unsympathetic being about how I really want to make a career out of hanging around theatres and film sets. But how wrong I was. I was instead faced with a lovely person who totally understood what I wanted (apparently I'm not the first and only person in the world who wants both money and their dream job) and they'll let me earn some cash when I'm not prancing off to auditions, actually doing some acting work or in desperate need of a lie-in.
But don't worry. just because Miss L has now entered the corporate world, this doesn't mean that clumsiness and stupidity don't rule the day. I managed to stand by the front door to the office for nearly five minutes, buzzing up to reception because the door didn't open. It's only when someone else walked straight in that I realised both my feeble arms and inability to complete simple tasks were in charge yet again. I also managed to knock the numerous forms that I was supposed to fill out from the hands of the receptionist and sent them cascading across the office floor. I think you'll agree that I set quite the professional imperssion when I enter a room. However, I'm pretty sure that I aced the spelling test (it's spelt 'compewtur' right?) and I managed to continue with the typing test when I realised that I was typing up a piece about how insecure the job market is and how you need to ensure that you're doing something that you love. As texts go, I'm fairly sure this isn't the most inspiring to have when you're sat in a very artificially lit, cramped room typing away to get money because the job you really want won't give you a penny.
So now I've doubled my disappointment when my phone doesn't ring. Now there will be days when even more people realise they don't require my services and even more industries decide they'd rather have nothing to do with me. Or maybe it'll be the other way round and I'll find that everyone discovers that they all need a piece of Miss L. I'll be so in demand that I'll top the 'Most Wanted' charts. Maybe.
Check back tomorrow for a guaranteed entry inspired by neediness, desperation and an empty purse.
Tuesday, 4 October 2011
Minority Report
Despite saying the other day that I really didn't enjoy getting up on my high horse when it comes to race and prejudice, I'm afraid to say that I've been forced to saddle up again.
I was all set to write another entry about me falling over/tripping up/falling over after tripping up when I came across this article:
http://www.thestage.co.uk/news/newsstory.php/33681/asian-ethnic-minority-drama-academy-to-open
This saddens me greatly because although I understand that the intentions behind it are admirable, this really isn't the way to ensure that those from an 'ethnic minority' are fairly represented on stage and screen. I completely agree that there needs to be greater diversity in the races that we see in our theatres, cinemas and televisions and although some of the problem lies with those who sit firmly within the creative thrones, much rests on the fact that drama school has very much become a privilege for those that have the funds and support available.
The fact that someone feels it necessary to have a school dedicated to the needs of those from an ethnic minority makes me angrier than an angry bird because not only does it show what a sorry state the world of acting is in but surely a dedicated school just creates further barriers. If a child as young as six is attending classes that have been specifically set up for people of a certain race, what example does that set? Surely the child just feels more alienated from the outside world and is lead to believe that instead of getting out there and being proud of their heritage, allowances need to be made because of the colour of their skin. I can't help but feel that this money would've been much better spent being put into communities to encourage those children who do have a natural talent or genuine interest in the arts that they can actually do something with that ambition and can at least attempt to have the career they want (let's not get ahead of ourselves...although we can strive for better racial equality, the lack of jobs ain't ever gonna change...) Children should grow up believing that the country their parents were born in has absolutely no bearing on what they want to do with their life. Instead it seems like this school will segregate these children further and make them feel like there are barriers put up before they've even had a chance to encounter them.
The founder has stated that the school would be open to everyone but with the name 'The Academy of Asian and Ethnic Dramatic Arts' surely they are just creating their own 'ethnically exlcusive' industry. Just as they feel that the acting industry isn't as welcoming to those from a minority, by giving themselves such a specific name, they are instantly alienating those who don't fall under it. Wouldn't it be a whole lot nicer if money could be put into educating all areas of the acting spectrum so that instead of being this exclusive society, the acting world can be open to everyone regardless of their background? Surely integration is the much stronger tool that needs to be used here to make sure that there are absolutely no barriers in the way when a child expresses an interest in being a tree?
This is in no means an attack on the enterprising soul who has decided to set up this academy. I fully commend his intentions and hopefully the fact that he has to do this will just show the industry that more can be done. I also realise that I was very lucky when growing up as I was taught that I could achieve anything (apart from the sad day at the age of 5 when I realised that no matter how many Maltesers I ate, I'd never walk up walls) and I understand that not all children are that fortunate. But maybe we should be tackling the problems face on rather than implementing changes that could potentially make the problem worse. Or maybe I should just keep quiet and keep all the jobs for myself...
I was all set to write another entry about me falling over/tripping up/falling over after tripping up when I came across this article:
http://www.thestage.co.uk/news/newsstory.php/33681/asian-ethnic-minority-drama-academy-to-open
This saddens me greatly because although I understand that the intentions behind it are admirable, this really isn't the way to ensure that those from an 'ethnic minority' are fairly represented on stage and screen. I completely agree that there needs to be greater diversity in the races that we see in our theatres, cinemas and televisions and although some of the problem lies with those who sit firmly within the creative thrones, much rests on the fact that drama school has very much become a privilege for those that have the funds and support available.
The fact that someone feels it necessary to have a school dedicated to the needs of those from an ethnic minority makes me angrier than an angry bird because not only does it show what a sorry state the world of acting is in but surely a dedicated school just creates further barriers. If a child as young as six is attending classes that have been specifically set up for people of a certain race, what example does that set? Surely the child just feels more alienated from the outside world and is lead to believe that instead of getting out there and being proud of their heritage, allowances need to be made because of the colour of their skin. I can't help but feel that this money would've been much better spent being put into communities to encourage those children who do have a natural talent or genuine interest in the arts that they can actually do something with that ambition and can at least attempt to have the career they want (let's not get ahead of ourselves...although we can strive for better racial equality, the lack of jobs ain't ever gonna change...) Children should grow up believing that the country their parents were born in has absolutely no bearing on what they want to do with their life. Instead it seems like this school will segregate these children further and make them feel like there are barriers put up before they've even had a chance to encounter them.
The founder has stated that the school would be open to everyone but with the name 'The Academy of Asian and Ethnic Dramatic Arts' surely they are just creating their own 'ethnically exlcusive' industry. Just as they feel that the acting industry isn't as welcoming to those from a minority, by giving themselves such a specific name, they are instantly alienating those who don't fall under it. Wouldn't it be a whole lot nicer if money could be put into educating all areas of the acting spectrum so that instead of being this exclusive society, the acting world can be open to everyone regardless of their background? Surely integration is the much stronger tool that needs to be used here to make sure that there are absolutely no barriers in the way when a child expresses an interest in being a tree?
This is in no means an attack on the enterprising soul who has decided to set up this academy. I fully commend his intentions and hopefully the fact that he has to do this will just show the industry that more can be done. I also realise that I was very lucky when growing up as I was taught that I could achieve anything (apart from the sad day at the age of 5 when I realised that no matter how many Maltesers I ate, I'd never walk up walls) and I understand that not all children are that fortunate. But maybe we should be tackling the problems face on rather than implementing changes that could potentially make the problem worse. Or maybe I should just keep quiet and keep all the jobs for myself...
Monday, 3 October 2011
Accents
I've never been one for accents. I mean, in my head I am. In my head I'm pitch perfect but I realise that in reality, most accents I attempt will mainly come out sounding Welsh. Actually, that's not true because then that would mean that I do a good Welsh accent and I really don't. The only accent I can do well is my own and even that I can fluff up on a regular basis.
I was watching Nowhere Boy last night on TV and was astonished at the appalling accents. Now, John Lennon and I never had the pleasure of meeting before but I'm pretty sure he had a fairly strong Scouse accent, or even if it wasn't strong, I'm sure I've seen clips of him talking and I could tell what part of the country he was from. The accent in the film was totally baffling, it seemed to go to Liverpool via London, Dublin and New York with a quick stopover in Cardiff. Now Mr Lennon was a talented fellow but I'm fairly sure he wasn't capable of speaking in five accents all at the same time. However, Lennon's mother was even more confusing. We spent much of the 45 minutes (we couldn't cope watching past this) wondering where on earth she was from. Despite the fact that she had a considerable amount of dialogue in the film, a conclusion was never reached.
As I said before, accents are never going to be a great earner for me so I really shouldn't judge but I've never let that get in the way before so it certainly won't stop me now. There's no excuse for a poor accent. I find it more distracting than poor actimg and it's entirely unecessary. Unless someone is perfect at accents, then I see no reason for someone who is not from that region to be cast within the role. However, like the double-standard little thesp I am, that doesn't mean I'm not adverse to trying out an accent myself. Due to my 'funny colour' (see previous blog entry of a similar name) I often get asked to audition with a 'Middle Eastern' accent. I'm still not entirely sure what the accent should really sound like but this doesn't stop me from stating that I'm comfortable doing this. What often comes out of my mouth is some ugly little lovechild whose parents have travelled extensively around Wales, India, Australia, America and some countries that have yet to be discovered. What's even more worrying is that I've actually been cast on the back of these wild stabs in the dark. Either my meagre attempts are charming or I've been exceedingly lucky and have auditioned for only deaf or deluded casting directors.
For the mono-lingual accent, the worst is the surprise accent in an audition. If you know that an accent is going to be asked of you then at least you can practice a bit beforehand. I usually find myself making a vague attempt at the accent, realise I have no idea what I'm doing, try looking it up on YouTube, try copying them, fail and then get distracted by baby animals. But at least I've got some idea of what it should sound like. But the sudden request for an accent once you're in the audition is a horror. I had an audition a few years back for a character that they wanted to Mediterranean, but they weren't entirely sure which country. I was then asked to try out the script in Spanish, Italian and then in Portuguese. Now I've heard people from these countries and should someone speak to me in that accent, I'm pretty sure I'd recognise where they were from. But my voice box decided to deny all knowledge of these places and out came a sound not dissimilar to a confused Welsh person trying to go undercover in Russia. And that happened for each attempt, meaning that I managed to come across as a new form of racist, trying to show my feelings through the medium of accent. And yes, you're right to presume that I never heard anything back.
I don't have any auditions lined up this week so I should probably use this time to perfect my skills. I won't. Instead I'll just wait for the day it's decided that the whole human race should speak in a hack Welsh accent and then I'll wait for the job offers to come flooding in.
I was watching Nowhere Boy last night on TV and was astonished at the appalling accents. Now, John Lennon and I never had the pleasure of meeting before but I'm pretty sure he had a fairly strong Scouse accent, or even if it wasn't strong, I'm sure I've seen clips of him talking and I could tell what part of the country he was from. The accent in the film was totally baffling, it seemed to go to Liverpool via London, Dublin and New York with a quick stopover in Cardiff. Now Mr Lennon was a talented fellow but I'm fairly sure he wasn't capable of speaking in five accents all at the same time. However, Lennon's mother was even more confusing. We spent much of the 45 minutes (we couldn't cope watching past this) wondering where on earth she was from. Despite the fact that she had a considerable amount of dialogue in the film, a conclusion was never reached.
As I said before, accents are never going to be a great earner for me so I really shouldn't judge but I've never let that get in the way before so it certainly won't stop me now. There's no excuse for a poor accent. I find it more distracting than poor actimg and it's entirely unecessary. Unless someone is perfect at accents, then I see no reason for someone who is not from that region to be cast within the role. However, like the double-standard little thesp I am, that doesn't mean I'm not adverse to trying out an accent myself. Due to my 'funny colour' (see previous blog entry of a similar name) I often get asked to audition with a 'Middle Eastern' accent. I'm still not entirely sure what the accent should really sound like but this doesn't stop me from stating that I'm comfortable doing this. What often comes out of my mouth is some ugly little lovechild whose parents have travelled extensively around Wales, India, Australia, America and some countries that have yet to be discovered. What's even more worrying is that I've actually been cast on the back of these wild stabs in the dark. Either my meagre attempts are charming or I've been exceedingly lucky and have auditioned for only deaf or deluded casting directors.
For the mono-lingual accent, the worst is the surprise accent in an audition. If you know that an accent is going to be asked of you then at least you can practice a bit beforehand. I usually find myself making a vague attempt at the accent, realise I have no idea what I'm doing, try looking it up on YouTube, try copying them, fail and then get distracted by baby animals. But at least I've got some idea of what it should sound like. But the sudden request for an accent once you're in the audition is a horror. I had an audition a few years back for a character that they wanted to Mediterranean, but they weren't entirely sure which country. I was then asked to try out the script in Spanish, Italian and then in Portuguese. Now I've heard people from these countries and should someone speak to me in that accent, I'm pretty sure I'd recognise where they were from. But my voice box decided to deny all knowledge of these places and out came a sound not dissimilar to a confused Welsh person trying to go undercover in Russia. And that happened for each attempt, meaning that I managed to come across as a new form of racist, trying to show my feelings through the medium of accent. And yes, you're right to presume that I never heard anything back.
I don't have any auditions lined up this week so I should probably use this time to perfect my skills. I won't. Instead I'll just wait for the day it's decided that the whole human race should speak in a hack Welsh accent and then I'll wait for the job offers to come flooding in.
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