Thanks, You Shouldn’t Have! No, I Mean, You Actually Shouldn’t Have . . .

I adore auditions. After spending  a few weeks with a script, reading and re-reading, working it through your imagination, it’s splendid fun to put it in the hands of auditioners. The imagination goes into overdrive as lines are read: intonation is analyzed, facial expressions are studied, chemistry is absorbed. The director mixes and matches to see who sparks together on stage. It’s akin to piecing together a jigsaw puzzle, with one distinction – the picture keeps changing. As the actors move the material between them, the vision tweaks and twists, new pieces fall into place, new ideas crop up. The possibilities swell. It’s . . . well, it’s just fun!

Now, I get it, I’m having more fun than the auditioners are. For the actors, it’s tension and butterflies, second-guesses and self-flagellation. Did I screw up? Did I do the best I could? Did she notice that I farted? I admire actors for putting it out there, taking the risks, and not backing down when the person right before you just nails it. Then, going home and . . . waiting . . . waiting . . . waiting for the cast list to go up. It sucks, no?

While you (actors) are sitting and waiting, however, we (directors) are taking our turn on the insane hamster wheel of second-guessing. Sometimes we’re dealing with a good showing of strong actors for a particular role. Sometimes, it’s a plethora of mediocre actors, or one or two actors that you’re just not sure you can make work. In any case, it’s hours or days of shuffling audition sheets and headshots, mumbling to yourself and playing the occasional (non-binding) desperate round of eenie-meenie-miny-mo. If you’re lucky, you have an anchor – that one actor that you absolutely know you want for a role. From there, you can sometimes fit the other actors into the equation, based on how they play together. Sometimes, you simply have to make a difficult decision about one character before you can even begin to decide about another.  Finally, often in the eleventh hour, moments before the deadline to release the cast list . . . it clicks. The actors slide neatly into position, their headshots beaming contentedly at you as if wondering why you didn’t get this configuration from the start, and save yourself the headache. The cast list goes public, and you sit back in relief, happily looking forward to the first read-through, to enjoy the initial melding of this painstakingly constructed cast.

And then . . . the phone rings.

 “Gee thanks, that’s great! But, uh, I really only auditioned because my son wanted to be in the show. Since he didn’t get cast, I’m not going to do it. Sorry.”

“Gee thanks, that’s great! But, that’s a really big role, I don’t think I can take on that kind of commitment right now. Sorry.”

“Gee thanks, that’s great! But, I just don’t feel like it’s worth my time and energy for just a few lines. Sorry.”

“Gee thanks, that’s great! But, I really didn’t expect to get cast, I just auditioned to support my friend. Sorry.”

“Gee thanks, that’s great! But, I forgot that I had tickets to a concert during opening weekend. Sorry.”

“Gee thanks, that’s great! But, my husband/wife/parents said I don’t have time to do the show. Sorry.”

“Gee thanks, that’s great! But, I didn’t know there would be, like, a lot of rehearsing involved. Sorry.”

“Gee thanks, that’s great! But, I didn’t really want to audition, it just seemed like you needed people to read for that role. Sorry.”

Do I even need to say that the list goes on? No cast is put together on a whim, not if the director is any good. Each choice is made thoughtfully, factoring in a myriad of dynamics, and it is with no small amount of hair loss that the director shapes the best possible cast from the pool of auditioners. 

I love community theatre actors, and I understand nerves. I get schedules and commitments and spontaneous actions. But any actor who sets foot on the stage at an audition needs to acknowledge that they are presenting themselves as available*. Be upfront with your concerns and conflicts, let the director have all the information before he decides whether to take a risk on you. 

I used to tell nervous actors, “It’s never a waste of time to audition.” I need to amend that to, “It’s never a waste of time to audition, as long as you’re prepared to actually accept a role.”

*The exception to the rule being, of course, if you are auditioning for multiple shows. It’s perfectly acceptable to say, “Gee thanks, that’s great! But, I accepted a part in another production. Sorry.”