Is Auditioning Really an Actor's Job?
by Jameson Wentworth
A Scene:
Four days post-audition. Night. An everyday apartment.
ACTOR compulsively checks his email, full of hope and promise; his whole life ahead of him, lush with hope and promise and possibility.
ACTOR receives “Thanks-But-No-Thanks” email.
Fears of failure realized, ACTOR listens the words that all fellow actors will tell him in the near future:
“You never know what they’re looking for!
“As long as you felt good about your work! That’s the most important thing!
“Your job isn’t ‘to get cast,’ your job is to audition!“
Are these words true? I choose to believe they are.
Are these words helpful? I believe they are always intended with the most earnest desires of helpfulness, and compassion.
But I have to admit that in those moments when I feel as though I am in the throes of defeat. And failure. And despair. These sentiments—however genuine and supportive their intentions may be—can feel disingenuous. Hollow, even.
Maybe it’s because in the time immediately following any rejection or failure, catharsis is important. And these sentiments fail to acknowledge, “Hey, we’ve all been there. It sucks.”
They fall short of admitting that auditioning is a job interview, and that not getting the job feels like a failure.
They certainly don’t allow that feeling like you failed is even an option, and perhaps even imply that it’s a bad feeling.
It’s a terrible feeling that makes you feel like hung-over, unwashed garbage.
And that’s where we got the idea for Audition Diaries: Shit I Didn’t Get Cast In.
Failure. It’s about pure, unadulterated public failure.
More specifically, it’s about success. Which is confusing. So let me clarify:
Nobody likes to fail. (see: “hung-over, unwashed garbage”).
But… what happens when we put on some humor goggles, and look our failure right in its stupid, ugly face?
And then what happens when we have a few adult beverages, accessorize our humor goggles with some sensible humility suspenders, and share our failures in front of an audience?
People laugh, is what happens. And they probably aren’t just laughing because it’s funny to hear about other people’s failures.
And now our failure feels smaller, almost non-failure-esque
By the time we’re done, what was formerly the end of the world feels like a goddamn triumph.
Because we’ve all felt it. It’s cathartic. And now we’ve all shared it together.