Bare Essentials

I've spoken before about turning down work. It's something that when I first started out, I never thought I'd find myself doing. There was a time when I'd do pretty much any job for anyone who dared offer me one, regardless of whether they felt it necessary to reward me with food, money, warmth or all of the above. However, I've recently started noticing that I'm becoming a bit more picky about these things and I can only presume that this is a good thing. The amount of unpaid work I now do is down to an absolute minimum and if a job involves something that I'm just not comfortable with, I'm now comfortable enough with myself to say thanks but no thanks.

This morning, for example. I woke up to find someone that I'd never met or contacted was offering me a job. Although they had next to no budget, they were offering a very small payment and were able to cover expenses. Because my bank account is currently full of cobwebs and a few bits of loose change rattling around, I decided that it would be worth doing. It would keep me in crisps for another week and I figure if I'm trapped on a film set then I can't be out frittering away my last few pennies on a Mars bar. I had a quick look at the first couple of pages of the script and as it all seemed OK, I stupidly replied to say I was interested but would like to know which character they wanted me to play. "But why do you say that was stupid?" I hear you cry. Well, I'll tell you why. I didn't bother to read the whole damn script. Had I read on I'd have soon seen the word 'touch.' I'd have then seen the word 'thigh' a bit later on. Finally we have 'hands gliding' and it all starts to make sense. Because very soon after I'd initally stopped reading, the film very quickly descends into porn. But this isn't just porn, it's lady porn. And while I don't particularly have a problem with the world seeing my bits or getting entangled with another female for my art, I do have a problem when I'm being paid 83p an hour (I worked it out and that's honestly what I'd be getting.) Plus, with such a limited budget, it's fairly certain that it would be shot pretty poorly and no one wants to see my badly lit post-Christmas padding flailing around on some poor person's bed.

The world of film has been subjected to my lady parts before and although it was shot within the relative safely of drama school, it was still an horrific experience. It was the very first scene of the film that was shot and I found myself in a ground floor, street facing, tiny hotel room with my co-star and crew members, all of which were men. The curtains had to be partially open so that the light could get through so I apologise now to anyone who was driving through west London in 2005. The first couple of shots were about as traumatic as when they made Strawbery Ribena toothkind, but by the end I was happily taking notes from the director with everything on display. But of course, this was back in 2005 when I was 22 and we all looked a lot better back then. Despite the poor lighting and general lack of photographic talent, I still looked OK but six years on with no daily dance and movement classes to keep me trim, it's a very different story.

They still haven't responded to my initial question so, technically, I'm still doing this job. Best pull those lettuce leaves out from the back of the fridge just in case...

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.

Despair

I realise I've spoken about agents before. I'm aware that I have mentioned before just how useless the one agent I've had was. He was about as useful as my voicereel is (in the four years that I've had it, it's secured me one quite poorly paid job.) His accent meant that I rarely knew what I was going up for and he understood the acting industry about as well as I understand anything written in the FT. His frustrating behaviour meant that I had several arguments with him, the worst being via text while I was at a dull day job. I'd promised to cover for a friend and I was in desperate need of the money to pay for my Spotlight membership so there was absolutely no way that I was backing out of this. But of course, because Sod is in charge of all laws, my agent's assistant rang at 7pm the night before telling me that I had a casting the next day. I explained that I was working a morning shift tomorrow and that the notice they'd given me wasn't enough to get out of it. She totally understood and said the morning slot was the only one available so I carried on with my productive evening of eating economy cheese and wondering how to make a buck out of my ever-increasing pile of agency rejection letters. The next day, while at work, my phone buzzes. It's my agent trying to phone me but I'm working for the one man less understanding than my agent and am unable to answer. A voicemail is left and I'm forced to crawl under the desk to listen to it. It's my agent telling me that I need to be at the audition and that I should be wearing a blue shirt. While crouched under the desk and keeping one eye on my bosses door, I text him back. The following text conversation went something like this:

Me: Hi. I'm really sorry but I'm unable to attend the audition. I explained to (Miss Useless Assistant) that I'm working and couldn't get out of it. She said that was fine. Sorry for any mixup caused.

Him: I'd like you to find a way to go to the audition. We've changed your audition slot 1pm (it was 12.30 and I was a good 40 minutes away.)

Me: I'm sorry but I can't just leave. Even if I could, I wouldn't be able to make it in time and I don't have a blue shirt with me nor do I have the money to buy one on the way.

Him: You need to decide what it more important to you. You've put me in a very compromising position with a very important casting director. I'm not happy about this at all.

After this I decided to leave things before I pointed out that he'd previously failed to contact me for a whole six months and that I was currently spending all my free time desperately trying to get with any other agency just so I could be away from them. I emailed him an apology when I got home and he said sorry for being the meanest man in the West and we carried on our unfulfilling professional relationship for another year. 

When we did finally part ways, they said they would be happy to take me back should I want to return and I have to admit that those parting words have stuck with me. Over the last couple of months as I struggle to find representation. I've been wondering whether I should just cast my pride aside and go back with them. However, this email I found earlier from them is a glorious reminder as to why I would never return...

Hi,

Reece Witheredspoon  and Jake Gyllenhall wants to know if you speak Arabic, so , do you and if so to which level?

 

Thanks

I think I might be best on my own for now...

Lies

A very very short blog but I would just like to announce that lying totally works. Following on from yesterday's deceitful application, they've only gone and offered me a bloody audition. So there you go guys. It always pays to twist the truth and fib your way into the casting room.

Check back next week for a guaranteed woeful entry where I get totally found out for the fraudulent thesp I am.

Confused

It's no wonder us limelight lovers get a tad confused from time to time. The lies we have to consider just to possibly be seen for a job are the kind of ludicrous tales that would make a low-rent fraudster blush. When growing up, I never realised that a strong part of my job would be pretending to strangers that I'm actually fairly competent at playing the flute. And I'm pretty sure, when my parents stared down at me on the day I was born, their one wish was that I would spend my adult days desperately clutching on to a stage combat qualification that expired years ago and claiming that accidentally picking up one Arabic word a year constitutes as learning the language. I mean, it's bad enough that we have to trick our mind into being someone else when we're on stage or in front of a camera but when we're doing it in our day to day life too? Surely that's something to be worrying about.

This morning, while on my daily futile search for work, I found a lovely advert for a children's show. Reading through it all sounded very delightful until it came to the character's description. Physically I fit the bill but the extras required were a little more challenging. However with a little bit of truth twisting, I'm sure I can pretend that I'm the actress for them...

Must be able to sing well - I sound awesome singing Elmo's Song in the shower (if you don't know this song, I urge you to stop reading and go here instead.)
Ability to play multiple musical instruments - as previously stated, I do know how to hold a flute. I can also actually play the piano. Let's just ignore the fact that I've previously owned an oboe, a violin, an accordian and a guitar yet have neglected to learn a single tune on any of them.
Circus skills - T will vouch for the amount of times that I nearly fall over, bump into things and drop items. The fact that I've yet to injure myself must mean I have some sort circus-worthy skill.

So, after convincing myself that I'm entirely right for the job, I went about applying. I marketed myself as the perfect performer for children's theatre. I put myself across as the smiley, bubbly performer that I rarely am. I highlighted all the children's theatre that people have bafflingly allowed me to part of and hoped that they ignore all the battered wives, prostitutes and soldiers that I've also played. Proud of my little cheery application, I fired it off and went in search of the next job.

A paid job for an online commercial came up. Perfect. There were two roles applicable for me being a lady type under 30. Excellent stuff. I had two roles to choose from. However, the two roles available were for a French Maid and a Stripper. Oh. Sadly the truth-twisting game didn't work quite so well this time...

Slim - while still able to fit into old clothes, Christmas has most definitely taken its toll and the layer of stilton and Pringles that I'm currently sporting is probably only of interest to those in the insulation game.
Sexy - my favourite pair of knickers is covered in cartoon monsters.
Seductive - the only thing that gives me a slightly husky voice is sleeping next to a wall with a propensity for damp.

Could I really go from marketing myself as the perfect children's performer to trying to convince someone that I'd be the ideal French Maid? The fact is that, despite my high regard for the human race and my firm belief that no one needs to see me flouncing around in a French Maid's outfit, I could easily justify my suitability for this role. And now it has just been announced that a casting website is now allowing actors to add up to five 'character types' to their profile. I'm off to see if I can market myself as the first sex-bomb, girl next door, street-tough, posh, princess. Let's see those job offfers come flooding in.

Happy New Year

I really wanted my first post of 2012 to be a positive one. Today's post should be a hopeful, optimistic one as I aimlessly dream about what the upcoming year will be thrusting upon me. I've had a bit of a break from blogging over the last couple of weeks due to the acting world being forced into hibernation while pantomime reigns supreme. It's an odd feeling having inactivity left on your doorstep and being asked to look after it over the festive period. Of course, sloping around the house in pyjamas with a bag of crisps while keeping an eye permanently on crappy movies is probably my default mode so I embrace this time of year with pathetically weak arms. But the novelty wears off soon enough and there's only so many times you can watch 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus' before the need to be proactive becomes more important than seeing just how many Pringles you can eat in one sitting (it's about 386.) But sadly there's only so much you can do when everything has shut down for mulled wine and presents. As I've said many a time in this blog, I could use this free time do productive things that better me as a person but this never happens so instead the season has been spent with me patiently waiting for the jobs to start coming back.

Last night, while vaguely assisting T as he embarked upon his final push to try and defeat Arkham City once and for all (my greatest skill seems to be pointing out things that aren't actually there), I became distracted by a flurry of acting jobs suddenly being posted online. I leapt upon them with an enthusiasm usually only seen when food is put before me and I excitedly worked my way through them. I applied for all the paid ones that I could and thought I'd just have a quick look through the unpaid ones just in case there was something that looked interesting. As I glanced through the usual stuff, my eye was caught by a post by an incredibly well known production company. How exciting. This company produce some of the biggest television shows out there but hang on, why are they in the unpaid section? And woah, what's that? They're asking for audience members for their upcoming celebrity reality show spin-off? I read through the whole brief and my worst fears were confirmed...here, on a respected casting website was a call for audience members for a reality TV show. My heart sank and my soul wept.

Is this what has become of the acting industry? Are performers now held in such low regard that we are now being used to pretend that we're fans of one of the main culprits in the crime against television. Reality TV has taken over our screens and this cheap programming means that the amount of quality shows is so few that once parts have been offered to those few actors that always appear in these things, there's very little left for the rest of us. And sadly, because of this depressing lack of work, I'm sure there will be some actors who respond to these calls in the hope that it will at least be a chance to get on television.

But my main disappointment is with the casting website. Surely they have standards to uphold and instead of just bowing down to these production companies, they should have the nerve to stand up to them and try to maintain what little dignity the acting profession is desperately clutching on to. This casting site has served me incredibly well over the years and it has helped pay a lot of bills but seeing it become the next victim to the cheap, sensationalised, celebrity driven takedown of the industry is a seriously disheartening way to start the year. I posted about this job on Twitter last night and I was delighted by the reaction of other fellow actors and I really hoped that this casting website would take note and by today the job would be removed but I'm sorry to say that it's still there.

I really hope that this is just a minor blip and the rest of 2012 will be the year that the world of acting finally fights back. Maybe this could be the year that despite the debilitating cuts, dramas such as Black Mirror and Great Expectations can lead the way and prove that there is a lot more to be gained from putting what little money is left into producing quality programmes. Sadly I forsee yet another year dominated by the same formulaic shows meaning that this time next year, I'll be in exactly the same position writing the same blog. See you in twelve months!