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.”
