Acting Qs by Bonnie Gillespie and Blake Robbins

I was making the rounds and I must've left my picture with a talent manager. I was in my bathtub in the kitchen of my cold-water flat in Hell's Kitchen. It was nearing Christmas. The phone rang and this gruff voice said, "Hello, Honey. Wanna go to the Dominican Republic?" I said, "Yeah! What do I have to do?" And I remembered one day having gone into an office to drop off my picture and hearing this gruff voice: "Hello!" I remembered that I was wearing my winter woolies and my hat and scarf, wrapped up to here and I hear, "How are your legs, Honey?" Of course, I had DANCER on my resumé, so that's what he was asking about. This was that guy calling, sending me out for this show—as a dancer! This was a variety show going out for a World Trade Fair. This show was produced by the son of one of the most famous burlesque producers, Harold Minsky. This was 1955 and out of the country! This was when the Trujillos were in power in the Dominican Republic. There were acres and acres of this fair exhibit representing countries from all over the world in this huge, vast place. To be part of the entertainment was great! I learned a lot. There were some pretty tough cookies who were these strippers from New York. I didn't know anything about that. I think my innocence actually saved me. I decided it was a great way to see the world. I could get dancing jobs like that and travel! I really have gypsy in my blood. I love to go everywhere!
		Jill Andre

		I didn't really ever pursue acting. I think they may have seen me doing standup. That was a time when a lot of standup comedians were being picked up by sitcoms. There was a run on that for a while. They were getting development deals. There was a guy who was working for Warner Bros. who saw me in some kind of a TV thing and he got me a development deal with Warner Bros. It's really haphazard in certain ways. People see you. In the beginning, it's just: get them to see you. But you don't want them to see you before you're really ready. If you're seen immediately, you don't have time to develop. You need to be bad and you need to survive that. There's good news and bad news to being seen immediately. It's better to be successful when you're older but the business is very ageist. You have that working against you. And you need to be emotionally ready for success. I think that a lot of meltdowns that go on are because people are not ready to be successful. They have no idea what it means to be successful. They have a fantasy that that's going to make them happy. Success doesn't make you happy, it just makes you successful.
Joy Behar

I had finally broken out of this relationship that wasn't good for me but I was dirt poor. I mean, literally, my grandfather died but I couldn't afford to get to the funeral, I got hit by a car, I got held up at gunpoint, and then broke up with my girlfriend all within like a month. And then I booked a guest-star on one pilot—it was just a guest-star for the pilot—and I regrouped, hung out, and then two months later I was told they wanted me for ten episodes. That turned out to be 24. Then they needed me for twenty episodes, which was pretty much the whole first season. That gave me enough cash to get started in LA and gave me a foothold in LA in terms of television. I had no fucking clue what I was doing because I had never been in front of a camera on a real set where somebody brings a tape measure up to you. I had only made my own films—that turned out like crap—in high school. We had a public access comedy show that my brother and I did, but nothing like having to cry because my good friend just got his head blown off and—two seconds before, "Action!"—there's a tape measure a quarter-inch from my eye. It's a whole different way of working. You've got to train to do it, and I was just running on gut instinct. During 24, I started taking class with this Meisner-based, New York-style teacher named Chris Fields. He taught me a way of working—especially preparation—that works when I have to go inside a casting director's room or in front of the camera on a set. It always works for me.
		Daniel Bess

		I was asked to do The Apollo Comedy Hour. That was frightening. At this point, I had maybe two years of experience. The whole thing about the Apollo is: don't get booed off! That's your only concern. It was my first time working in New York, which is where I grew up. I got there and I went to the Boston Comedy Club because some LA comics had told me to check it out; it's in the Village. The comics there were like, "Oh, you're doing the Apollo? We can get you up in this room, that room, the other room, just to run your set." I went to this club called Manhattan Proper. It was in Queens, about two miles from where I grew up. I didn't tell anybody I was going to be there. I just went. That crowd—second or third joke—started booing me and ran me right out of the room. That was my first time getting booed like that. I had bombed before. I would have jokes not work. But that was the first time it was that kind of reaction. I got to the Apollo and it's much smaller than it looks on TV. They had us downstairs in a bullpen. They would have a music act and then a comic, but they wouldn't tell you who was next. I either followed or went right before Biggie Smalls. I went out there and my first joke was: "I grew up in New York. I moved to LA. Damn, if I was a rapper, I'd have to shoot myself." They loved it! My set just went. People ask me if I get nervous and I generally don't get nervous—even back then I didn't get too nervous—but whenever I'm doing something new, it's always about getting the first laugh. That's when I can relax.
Alonzo Bodden

I think a lot of the prep work is done prior to the audition. I try not to get too strung out about anything. If I did it right the first time, I trust that it's going to be there. I try to be as relaxed and centered and content as possible. I guess there was a role in Philly and one in Ally McBeal where I had to break down on the stand. The crying can be a little bit more anxiety-producing, the night before: "Is everything going to come together?" But I'm not one of those actors that has to be in an emotional place for something to happen. And that's good and bad. In some ways, it contributes to why I wouldn't consider myself an incredible actor like some of the people I've worked with on stage. I don't go to the place that they go to. But, that also preserves my sanity a lot more. It's a trade-off. You can be such a basket case after a lifetime of going there, emotionally, all the time. When I go to an audition, I really try to stay focused on why I'm there. A lot of people get carried away with chitchat or networking: "Am I going to say something clever when I go in the audition room?" and having the shtick ready. I've always stayed away from that. I've found it's best if you're prepared, go in, do your job, and say thanks on the way out. They're really not looking to make new friends. People think, maybe, "Oh, if I can charm them or tell a funny story, that'll win them over." They have friends! They want somebody who's going to do the job right!
		Bob Clendenin

		I had been to Georgianne Walken for tiny roles about four other times and I never got anything. But I knew this was my role. Before I went to producers, she brought me in to work with me on it. She really pulled for me. I went in for producers, I felt good, and then I heard back that I was the number one choice but that they needed to see a couple more people they hadn't seen yet. I started thinking, "I'm never going to get this!" I had to go back in to producers again. I looked on the sign-in sheet and the two other guys there were with like William Morris. I thought, "They're bringing in the big guns now." I remember sitting there before going in, really stressed. David Chase came by and was like, "Cheer up!" I went in, felt good in the audition, left it on the floor, and thought, "I did my stuff. It's either going to happen or it's not." I left, went into a deli, had an egg sandwich, was reading the paper, my phone wasn't working inside, so I came out and had a voicemail. I was going to get my wife Deirdre a Christmas gift and I got the voicemail as I was walking down the street: "Hey, Matt. It's Georgianne Walken. Just want to thank you for coming in and to let you know..." and I was like, "Fuck!" She had such a down voice. And then she said, "You got the part, kiddo! Congratulations!" I was dancing on the street! I went into Barneys to get a perfume for Deirdre. There was like a little one and a big one and I said, "Y'know, I'll take the big one! I'm doing The Sopranos!" I got Georgianne flowers, brought 'em by the office. And it was a break, for sure. I'm in for much different projects now than I was before then.
Matthew Del Negro

While I'm in New York, I would love to do stage work. I did my first theatre last spring, actually: a production of Hurlyburly. That was so much fun. I enjoyed that a lot. I would love to continue that as long as I am in New York, since this is the center of stage. I've never been out to LA. I've done pilot season from New York, putting stuff on tape, but that's not quite the same as going out, of course. I would love to go out to LA, once Third Watch is over. I wouldn't know how much I'd want to head in the direction of television. I think I'd be leaning more towards film or theatre. Television is fun, but I feel like I've tried it and I want to try everything else. I recently did a commercial for Differin acne gel. I like commercials with a lot of copy—a lot of script—to do. It's fun for me. Surprisingly, it takes a lot of energy, but commercials are fun. Obviously, it's not acting, per se, but it exercises creativity. It's more intense than people think it would be, at a commercial shoot. It's a lot of takes packed into one day and you have to do every line ten different ways. It's fun to see this commercial on TV because it's probably the most widely-distributed that I've done. For a while at school, everyone was coming up to me saying, "Oh, I saw you on TV! You're in this acne commercial!" It's hard because everyone thinks they're the only one who has seen it. So, coming up with things to say is tough: "Oh, did you? Great." And being known as "the zit girl" gets old after a while. There is a downside to it being a very, very public ad. At least, if someone misses an episode of Third Watch where I didn't like the way my hair looked, they probably won't see it again.
		Bonnie Dennison

		A lady that my mom had met at the classes had stayed in contact with her over the years. She told her about this lady in San Antonio that her daughter was with—she was a manager or agent. She loved me. She told me that she had this showcase that she does here in LA called "LA 101." It's a showcase where she has maybe ten agents out here come and see her clients—who travel to LA—perform for them. We worked with her in Dallas for about three weeks. She worked with us on scenes and monologues. When we came out here, we would perform a commercial and a monologue for the agents. If they liked us, they would bring us in and interview us. I had about three agents interested in me out of the ten. I was fifteen when I did this. I went with the agent I was real comfortable with and that liked me. While I was here for the showcase—I was here for a week—she sent me out on four things in two days. The day before I was supposed to go back to Texas, she had a producer of an independent film in her office. I came into the office that day and she brought me in to talk to the producer. The next day, they set up a meeting for me to come and audition for him and the director. The scene was a crying scene, so I had to cry. What I'd learned from my acting coaches was to think of things that were sad to me. Well, my grandfather had passed away, so that's what I thought of. I cried and everything. They loved it. So, I auditioned and the next day we went back to Texas—I didn't think of it. Well, I thought of it maybe a little bit.
Samantha Droke

As for signing with an agent, Buchwald was on my list from the very beginning. I met with Michael Raymen and they passed on me. And they should have. I was green. I didn't know what I was doing. But I knew that that's who I wanted to be with. Three years later, I ended up signing with Michael Raymen. I still don't think that he knows that I was the same guy. I had dreadlocks when I first met him in New York and when I signed with him, I didn't. And back then I was going by my given name, Bryan Fuller, but when I met with him again, I was Stephon. I had been doing the freelance game in New York and I was ready to lock it down. I didn't want to sign with any of the people I was freelancing with because I didn't want to compete with a hustler like me. So, I started to look at who doesn't freelance: Buchwald. That was the one. I knew there was a workshop where I could meet Michael. I did that workshop and I said—and I kind of hated doing this—when we all introduced ourselves in the workshop, "Can I tell you what's going on with me thirty seconds?" It was a really good time with a bit of stuff going on. I had the whole thing kind of rehearsed. He called the next day and I went in for a meeting. I had a mini-bio of what was going on. I had a page of all the casting directors that I had met, had callbacks for, or had booked through. I had six copies of them. I didn't know how many agents I'd be meeting. I went in. There was this oak table. I passed out these handouts like a Fortune-500 executive. I remember what was supposed to happen when I passed out these handouts: I was supposed to hear, "Hm." And I heard that! It worked. They called within two hours of the meeting and said, "Stephon, we want to work with you. We want to do this." I was so happy.
		Stephon Fuller

		We met doing a play together but we had little or no interaction in the script. We had the very bizarre thing of making out with other people. Every night I was making out with another kid in the play and meanwhile Russ and I had a crush on each other. Every night I was making out with our friend Donovan. Everyone was a really good sport about it, but it was really bizarre. It still continues to be, when I have to see him do that. I'm not going to lie; it's weird. I understand, but it's weird. I think being okay with the jealousy and having a little bit of a sense of humor about it helps. I think the more that it's talked about and communicated, the easier it is. It's a really complicated thing. The connections you make with the people you're working with are—of necessity—really intense and they happen, usually, very quickly. Suddenly you're in this small world where these people are your closest people for a flash. That's what's expected of you as an actor: to be open to that kind of connection. When you see that, it's one of the most interesting and powerful things about what we do. I worked with a wonderful actress who has been working for years. She's been married for fifteen years and she said, "I've fallen in love with almost every single one of my costars to a degree. Nothing's ever happened. But for how ever long this created reality lasts, I've been in love." It's about perspective. It's about not letting this job that we do become all-encompassing and become so hugely who we are that we get lost in it and suddenly that's everything.
Angela Goethals

I have to say, after all these years of being in the business, the opportunities for the Asian-American actors have not really increased that much. The SAG records show that the number of Asian Americans being hired as actors is really small. The problem is this: when the writers and the producers—even before the directors come on the scene—think of a series, they don't know what to do with an Asian-American character, if they even think of one! If they think of one, they say, "Let's make him a restaurant owner. Let's make him a butler." Of course, things like Sideways have shown us that you don't have to be an Asian character in order to be portrayed by an Asian actor! Sandra Oh, in a way, probably has done more for the issue of equality than that protest all those years ago. I talked to Black actors earlier in my career when they we were in the same situation and hardly any of them got recognized. For some reason, the Asian Americans are still left behind. I don't exactly know why, other than the Black actors knowing how to assert themselves to climb higher. After fifty-one years, I should see more improvement in our situation. I shouldn't even have to talk about it, but the issue is still there. Look at Better Luck Tomorrow, which was a feature picked up by MTV Films. Those actors have that film and they still, every day, are confronted with the same situation of not being able to get a lot of roles. There are no roles out there being offered. Why can't they cast them into any role in a TV series? They're very appealing, talented actors who proved their talent in that film and yet they still can't get jobs being "just American," only "American Asians."
		James Hong

		What I've found, specifically within the television industry, is that it's gone beyond the whole "working inside-out vs. outside-in" thing. I'm finding that doesn't explain the difference in the acting styles in some ways for me, between the American and the British. I feel there's a minimalism a lot more within the American television acting style. Minimalism doesn't necessarily mean that the actors are working from the inside-out. It just means the physical technique is so much smaller in some ways. What I tend to find with British actors is that often they are not as constrained by the television box. They're bigger in many ways. Often, a lot of them seem to be more expressive. My thing has always been about: "fuck the American acting style and go for it and don't be afraid to be theatrical." I find it more interesting when I watch it. I think it's given me a particular stamp. It's a certain form of expressivity which is unique to me. I see that as a difference. I always regarded myself as very "Method" back in England. It was all about living as the character, dreaming as the character, having every experience as the character. Probably getting married and having a kid, I realized that I couldn't work like that anymore. It required such a sacrifice to work like that where I wasn't able to give to other parts of my life. I needed to find a balance. I began to rely more on technique and I learned a way to not be so precious.
Ravi Kapoor

My mother was on a show and I was teasing her once because I had come to the set to get something. It was a Monday morning and the guest actor was walking on the set and my mom went up and introduced herself. She said, "Now, the stage manager is over there. He can answer any questions. Craft service is over there. Let me take you over." I said, "Hey, Cruise Director Julie McCoy, what are you doing here?" She said, "You mark my words. When you have a guest on a show, if you're a series regular on that show, Tara, treat them as if they're a guest in your home for a week." I will tell you, Tony Danza was that way. The lead on the first job I did stood up when we walked into the room. He introduced us to each of the cast members. Friday night taping, there were flowers in all of our dressing rooms from him. He was an absolute gentleman. How wonderful for that to be my first job! This is how it should be. I don't want to be shocked when that happens! We, as actors, especially when we're guesting on shows, our job is just to go on the set and do the best work and not be the pain in the ass. I love working with actors I know are going to be there on time. And if you ask them to do something, it's done. It's not a big deal. These actors who want to discuss character for three hours, it's like, "That's homework, folks. Do it at home and don't waste our time." There's nothing more boring to me than watching an actor come on a set and want to talk to the director. "You're a guest actor. You were hired for a job because you did the job well in the audition. Do what you have to do before you get on the set."
		Tara Karsian

		After Machinal, I came out to LA to do a TV show called Second Chances with Connie Sellecca. Soon after I came out, I had a recurring role and I thought, "This is so great." Once again, "I'm so lucky." And then the show got cancelled after I did three. It was gone. I thought, "Wow, that was really painful. I just spent a lot of money thinking that I was going to be on the show for a while. Luckily, the tags are still on the stuff!" I did a bunch of pilots and none of them got picked up. That was also a very strange phenomenon; to do all of this work that no one saw. I felt like I was working, and delighted to be making money at it, but it was all sort of going into a vacuum. Suddenly ten months have gone by and you've been on hold for six of them. I did five pilots in a row and I had tested for seven pilots before I got one. Talk about feeling like, "I don't get it!" Every time I tested, I was so nervous. I really thought, "The only way I'm going to get one of these is if I just calm down. I have to figure out a way to fool myself into thinking that it's just not a big deal." But every time I saw the contract, it would freak me out! And the truth is, when I did get my first pilot, I was just as nervous as I had been every other time. There was no trick, but I really thought there was something I could master. And that's when I realized, "This has absolutely nothing to do with me. It's not because I'm nervous that I'm not getting jobs. It's not because I'm nervous that I am getting jobs." There was something so liberating about the fact that I was just as much of a freak going into the one that I got as I had been every other time I thought I'd derailed myself. That was really important.
Ilana Levine

I also thought I might go into the music industry, so I had an internship in a casting office and at Capitol Records. I really wanted to create an acting resumé and also an entertainment work industry resumé in case I ended up doing that. I worked for eight months at a feature film casting office in Venice during a break from school. I started out as an intern but I was hired on my third day. I was still an intern, but I got paid. I was nineteen and I wanted to finish school so I didn't accept a long-term job there, but I learned so much from it! So much came out of that. The most helpful thing about interning in a casting office is that you really see the big picture. I had a pretty good foundation of what the good agents were from what I'd read, but in the office, I saw which packages got opened. And that was a pretty "name" oriented office too. That really taught me a lot. I used to sit in on the sessions. I would tape them. I got to watch all of these bigger actors come in. I realized how much less of a chance actors have if they're not at big management companies or A-list agencies with celebrity clients. You have to get there in order to get anywhere in a casting office. That was a big lesson. Even the really small roles would come from the A agencies. And if they hadn't cast something for weeks and weeks, they'd then go through the stacks and the boxes and boxes of Bs and Cs. It was really frustrating because it made me realize how far I would have to go to get anywhere.
		Camille Mana

		In TV and film material, the Hispanic material is a lot more stereotypical. Commercials are addressing a sort of pan-Hispanic audience—many Hispanic backgrounds. The television and film material is very specifically Puerto Rican or Cuban or Mexican or whatever. Physically, I don't come across with that edge. Although I was "Eduardo" in New York. Here's how I became "Ed" Martin. I had a friend of mine go pick up sides for a Bob Newhart project that was being cast at Paramount while I was working. He said, "I'm here to pick up sides for Eduardo Martin." And they said, "There will be no 'Eduardo Martin' reading for this role." He literally said, "Is there an 'Ed Martin' or an 'Ed F. Martin' on your list?" They said, "Oh, yes. Here you go," and handed him the sides. It was that black-and-white. It was as though he was in the wrong office because "it was just not possible" that "Eduardo" would read for this. I immediately changed it—and not with insulted resistance. I just thought, "Well that's the way it's going to be. I'll let the fact that I speak Spanish fluently start to edge that other part out."
Ed F. Martin

That's the nice thing about always doing a couple of different things. If I'm not acting, there is a writing gig I'll book. Sometimes I have to push one side down in order to work on the other—like when I was writing on the Steve Martin specials or something and would take weeks where I wouldn't act much—but that's fine. I'll come back. Writing helps a lot with acting. And I think so many years with improv helped while I was writing all the time. I would always have some place to go, every week. I think that's a smart thing to do, by the way. Have some place to go every week to do something. For me, it was improv every Saturday night. No matter what the week was like, if I didn't get an acting job that week, I could go and do my show and get a laugh. Another benefit to that was, if I got sick of the typecasting—if I got really tired of playing the dumb truck driver or whatever they saw me as—I could do this improv show and I could be the King of France, a waitress, a Thai valet parker. It was great. I could be whatever I wanted to be while keeping my chops up. Doing improvisation is like writing on your feet.
		Michael McManus

		You're catching me at a really interesting time where I'm really trying to find that balance. I've never had balance in my life. I've always been very obsessed and I've spent a lot of time really depressed and really angry and comparing myself. I think, it's beginning to change and I think it has to do with some things going on in my personal life-slash-getting older. I used to say, "It isn't fair!" But I started to realize that this business isn't fair, that's what it is. It isn't fair. I think that having more of a life, whether that's having a family or going on a hike or having other hobbies and other loves helps. I love the craft of acting. I don't love the business of it. You don't succeed because you work your ass off or because you paid tons of money to study. I've been trying to figure out: "What is success?" I'm trying to change my perspective. It's great that I've had really great near-misses. I can look at them as, "This could've been," and "Why me?" I've done that. I've been practicing—and believe me, it's not easy—saying, "I'm blessed and lucky to have those near-misses, to have these opportunities. I have great agents and great mentors and friends around to bounce these things off." I work on that and I do go to the shrink as much as possible. If I die today, I had a lot of great moments. I guess the last thing I would've wanted to have said is, "Why didn't I get that pilot?" I don't want my last words to be bitching about that show I didn't get.
Chris Messina

You really have to have patience and faith. I've been doing this for thirty-five years and the last five years, it's really been paying off for me. I think once I got on stage and I saw how people received me—because I've always been self-conscious of my body and everything—I knew people weren't looking at that. They were reacting to a character. People don't judge you when you're on stage. They're relating to that character and where that goes in their life. If I make someone stop and realize, "Hey, that made me feel good," or, "That made me feel sad," I can just let all of this out. I don't have to worry about what I look like. I just get up there and do the best job that I've been trained to do. My faith is stronger—not only in God, but in myself—because of what I've faced. I used to say, when someone would ask me what I do, in a whisper, "Uh, I'm an actor." And now I say, "I'M AN ACTOR!" I can say it now! It took me to get this old to realize that I'm at a young place. This is one of the reasons I've gotten into acting, because sometimes it helps other people. I did a play called The Marriage. I played Dawnn Lewis' mother and I had Alzheimer's. We were doing this scene together and we heard this woman in the audience crying. When it was over, she came up to us and said that her mother has Alzheimer's, and that's the way she was acting and she couldn't understand why. But when she saw me in the character, she understood her mother more. It gave her more compassion for the illness. She never took the time to find out what it meant before. I thought that was most profound. When you're on stage, that audience isn't looking at you. They're looking at their life.
		Baadja-Lyne Odums

		People would think, "Oh, being Cuban you'll be able to do the dialect 'cause you're Cuban and he's Cuban," but I'm two generations removed. On top of that, going to school where they sort of beat any regionalism out of you, I was totally neutral. That actually helped. When I was in speech class, I was thinking, "What am I going to use this for? I'm never going to use this! Let's do some acting!" But now I have a technique that I can anchor into. Even with Armadillo, I was playing a Mexican, much different from a Cuban dialect. Now playing Scotty Valens, somebody who's from the northeast—from Philadelphia no less—and a Philadelphia accent is really difficult to get. I'm still working on that! Everybody was really enthusiastic about Desi. I learned how to play the congas, the guitar, I learned about his family's exile from Cuba, which parallels my family's. His was twenty-five, thirty years prior, but still, having everything and then coming to Miami with nothing. It gave me a soapbox. Whenever I was asked a question about Desi, I was able to pay homage to my grandparents from a personal place. My grandmother, who is still with us, was able to hear it on different Spanish radio shows that I was talking on or read in different newspapers or magazines in which I was interviewed. I would always mention her name and let her know that her grandson could've never decided to pursue an artistic desire had she not been in a sweatshop. She gave me that choice. I always remind her of that. That's one of the perks of the business; that I can do that publicly.
Danny Pino

I can't say for sure that the business has been good or bad for my children. It's the only business they know their daddy has ever been in. They see the world in those terms. I think if your father was a policeman or a garbage collector or an accountant or a president of a corporation, that's the way you see the world. You tend to mirror your parents' values and your parents' reality. I'm sure they have been damaged at times by what has happened in my life. I remember one time both my daughters (they were very young at this point. Emma was eight, Hannah was four) were asked to be in a bridal party for a second cousin and we went to Laura Ashley to pick out some matching dresses for them. At this time I was on The Guiding Light and at that point I was playing this fellow who was a blue-collar security guard who beat his wife and ultimately raped his stepdaughter. We're in Shorthills Mall in New Jersey and these two women come into Laura Ashley. One woman was the customer, the other was her buyer and the buyer turns to me and says, "Oh, you're the rapist on television!" in front of my two little children. I remember that as a particularly chilling moment in my career. Now, of course, she meant this—in her own twisted way—as a compliment. But who knows where that lives in my children's hearts?
		James Rebhorn

		I wish I could attribute it to someone, but some veteran actor said, "There are three things you base taking a job on and you can prioritize how ever you choose. It's the script, the people, and the money." Since I haven't worked for very much money along the way, that's always come third for me. I also fundamentally believe that if you do things you're passionate about, the money will follow. For me, always, "script" is 1A and "people" is 1B. When I've used that, I've done some projects that maybe business people—agents and managers—would've asked me not to, but they've always turned into wonderful experiences. I've realized that when things happen for me is when I truly believe I'm doing something of value, something that I have a voice about, something that I have passion about. I would tell any young actor that you don't have to do everything today or tomorrow, but you should always take a step. And any time you find that nothing's happening, there is a step you can take. Whether it's send out one headshot to someone you're really passionate about getting to know, volunteer to work on something you know is going to teach you about the industry, go to a reading series, or get in a class, one step in any one of those moments when you feel like, "What's going on here? Nothing's happening," moves the ball forward. It always leads to another step and eventually it leads to a journey.
Blake Robbins

I used to—and I still do, sometimes—think, "Oh my gosh, this is it. This is my big shot. This is such an important audition. This is such an important project." Especially when I pulled favors to get an audition, because I knew someone who knew someone, I'd get all wrapped up about it. I'd feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders; like I have to make this person proud, I have to get the job. I don't have that mindset anymore. I hope it's healthy; I'm just like, "Fuck 'em. They didn't want me? Okay." That sounds way too belligerent. Usually I feel that way when I go in and read with a casting director who doesn't choose to look up from the script and I don't get a callback. I know they didn't really pay attention. I'm not going to lose sleep over that one. There are so many people who don't go to college and they come out when they're eighteen and they get that running start. It makes all the difference. They get to play a high-schooler when they're in their twenties. I remember, when I was twenty-five, people would say, "Oh, you should do Groundlings classes." And I would think, "I'm too old to start that." I wish I hadn't thought I was so old. I don't know what a difference that makes, though, frankly. I didn't realize that then, but I don't think I was the type of person who was meant to hit in her twenties. I have a lot more to say now. Had I known, when I moved out here, that there is this great demand for girls who can do comedy, I would've focused on that more. Now, it's sort of my niche. The first big part I got was a very dramatic part on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, so, it didn't hurt that I wasn't focused on comedy. I just wish I could've done standup earlier. But what would I have said? "Oh, I'm twenty-five. My life is good. My mom's alive and I have no wrinkles." There are no jokes there!
		Faith Salie

		They had me meet Jonathan Demme. We bullshitted about acting and theatre in New York and that was it. Thursday, a week from my first audition with Howard, I got a call from a guy like around eight o'clock, nine o'clock. He was like, "Is this Tom Everett Scott?" That's not typical. Everyone calls me "Tom Scott." So, I knew it was related to acting. I said, "Yeah, yeah. This is Tom." He said, "Okay. Just wanted to make sure this was your number." I said, "Wait, wait—who's this?" He said, "This is Ed Saxon from That Thing You Do! I'm a producer on the movie and I'm really just calling to make sure this is your number." So, I got off the phone and I grabbed my laundry bag. My girlfriend Jenny—now my wife—and my roommate Andrew Sgroi were like, "What was that?" I said, "I gotta get outta here. I'm gonna go get my laundry. Then let's go out and get a drink." I go down and then come back up with my laundry and ask, "Anything?" "Nothing." "Phone hasn't rung?" "Nope." Phone rings. Scoop it up. Say, "Hello?" And this voice says, "Hi. Is this Tom?" I say, "Yep." "Tom Hanks." I was like, "All right." And that was it. I'm sitting in the kitchen of my railroad apartment and talking to Tom Hanks. He's saying all of these great things and, asks, "Do you wanna be in my movie?" That was my big break, that movie. Sure enough, what I was going through and what the character was going through was the exact same situation, really. There's things that started happening that didn't happen before: getting meetings with heads of studios; general meetings with all these people that just wanted to see my face, talk to me in person; and getting straight offers, not having to audition for some stuff. That's nice.
Tom Everett Scott

I can't say there's anything I wish I knew. I feel like, had I known then what I know now—or what I feel I know now—it would've dampened my enthusiasm. I'm actually glad I had all of those years of unbridled naïveté where I was sure that everything I submitted my picture for I would get called in for! "You have my picture. Why wouldn't you call me in? I gave you my picture! Now you call me. It's rude not to!" I'm glad I didn't know then what I know now: that here, in LA, it's an industry, not an art. It's a business here. The art is complete second or third fiddle. First it's an industry, then it's a club or a clique, and then maybe a little bit of artwork squeaks through. You just have to prepare yourself for being a product and not taking it personally when no one cares to purchase your product at this time. It doesn't mean it's bad product! You know, maybe that's something I wish I could have been able to wrap my brain around when I started, the not taking it personally, because it hurts. There's a whole lot of hurt when you don't get responses. But I don't know if it's possible to get that. The enthusiasm sort of blocks out the possibility of hurt. You just have to be the real you all the time and your work is to find the person who wants to buy that product. People think their work is to change the product to fit whoever is buying. That's the worst thing you can do. You stick with your one product—your real self—and find the right customer.
		Jonna Tamases

		I've been told, "Oh, you're a big girl," "Oh, my god," and, "There's a real size to you," all the time. I'm five-foot ten! I'm a milk-fed farm gal from Southeastern Saskatchewan, I'm not going to be a zero or a two or a four! I see all these young girls with terrible body images. I get it all the time and I'm a character actor! So, maybe if I gained fifty pounds, then I'd be "funny fat" or something? It really makes me crazy because I know my peers don't get it. Nobody ever says to Eugene Levy, "Maybe you should cut your hair and lose the glasses. If you had contacts you'd work more." I have to really work at it to get beyond the age and get beyond the size. I'm not a number in either case. In Canada, I'm considered pretty. Here, I'm just fat and old. That's an American thing. Oh, if I had a nickel for every time I lost a show to a model—and I'm a comedian! I know so many anorectics and bulimics that are like forty years old! It should be against the law to have Botox in your face and go on screen. How can you reflect any emotion when you can't move your face? I understand the impulse that drives you to that because, even as a comedian and a character actress, every single job I've been on, I've been insulted to my face by the people I'm working with. It's always the people behind the scene—not my costars—who feel that they have to work on my image. Only the people that develop a kind of attitude are resilient enough to survive. It's like a war of attrition. The wily farm stock—the type of people who can take adversity—will make it. This is the new frontier. If you can take all the shit being slung at you and spend six hours in your car, then you'll be okay in LA.
Deborah Theaker

So, I got the calls for things like extra work. I never really go into this part of my life because it's kind of looked down upon, but the first time I was called to be an extra, I was in the shower and my mom was like, "The phone is for you! It's some casting director!" And I'm all, "Give me the phone! Give me the phone!" It was this guy, Ricardo Bertoni, who would do a lot of extras casting. He said, "We want you to come and be an extra in this movie with spaceships and aliens. You're going to be running down the street!" He's giving me this whole animated speech and I'm all excited. He says, "It's a hundred dollars." And I said, "A hundred dollars! All right!" Then he asked if I had a car and I said, "My dad has a car." "Well, you get an extra fifty dollars for the car." I'm like, "I'm there! This is great!" So, this was my first time doing extra work and this was Independence Day. So, I go down there and there's thousands of people there on this Sunday. They said, "Are you SAG or non-SAG?" And I'm like, "I don't even know what SAG is!" And they said, "Okay, you're not SAG then." I said, "Fine." I checked in and they put me in this room with all these people and I was just chilling. Then they came to get us to the set and I couldn't even tell where the cameras were. Then they said, "That's lunch. Go over there and eat." And I saw this table of food. I said, "Oh my God!" They had such great food and it seemed like they never ran out. I couldn't believe it! I said, "If this is what acting is about, I'm in! I didn't even do anything. It's Sunday. I'm getting a hundred and fifty dollars. I can't believe this! It's beautiful here!"
		Al Thompson

		The only way that I could think of to approach this assignment was to work from the outside-in. I went to Koreatown the next day and I went to one of those little shops and I bought a full-length, pink hanbok—it's a full-length, Korean, traditional dress. I bought the dress, I bought the little Korean fan, I bought the little Korean shoes. I went to my house, put it all on, and I'm standing there. I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm just standing there in my house going, "Now what? What am I doing? I hate my teacher. This is stupid. I'm going to get hives. I'm going to projectile vomit." But I was patient enough—which has never been one of my best qualities—to wait for some sort of divine inspiration. Finally, I thought, "What if she were a standup comedian? What if she just got here from Korea? What if she has a really thick accent? What if she's terrible? What if she does it all wrong? What if she actually says racist, vulgar, horrific, inappropriate, offensive things but she doesn't realize it because she's naïve and she just wants to do well and she wants to come to Hollywood and make it and make people laugh and bring joy to people?" It made me realize sometimes people say things because they don't know and it doesn't have to be out of malice. It was a such a healing thing for me as an artist and as a human being. Now it's become a satire of racism in America. Laughter levels the playing field. It breaks down people's defenses and you can get your message in.
Suzanne Whang

Going back to Ron Van Lieu, he said something to our class. It was a bad day. The scenes were bad in class and he was frustrated. Someone said something about, "Oh, this is so hard," and he said, "Okay, look. How do you think I picked you guys? We get a thousand applicants and we accept twenty people each year. Do you really think you're the best twenty? You may have been the best hundred but from there I consider the chemistry in combination with what the needs of the school are. The question I ask is, 'Who is going to be doing this forty, fifty years from now?' I don't know. I make the best guess I can possibly make. So, I don't want to hear, 'This is hard.' Because if you tell me it's hard, I start to think I picked the wrong person." It stood out to me. He's saying, "I see you as people who, through all the adversity and through all the obstacles, will still be doing this fifty, sixty years from now." And when he said that, I said, "Yeah, that's me. I'm going to be doing this. No matter how hard it gets, no matter what level it's at, I'm not going anywhere!" You have to sort of make that commitment. You're not a failure if you decide to walk away from it, but you have to start out truly believing that this is what you want to do for the rest of your life.
		Victor Williams


Acting Qs would not exist without the generosity of...

Bob Brody, Karen Robbins, Deborah Jacobson, Dan Poynter, Subhash Mandal, Robin Gwynne, Shannon Walker, Tom Fontana, Carri McClure, Synthia Droke, Courtney Denney, Jeannine Burkart, Eric Halasz, Julie O'Malley, Ali Sowels, Suesie Toole, Lisa Winston, Hannah Knudsen, Cliff Jones, Katy Ruzicka, Rachel Spears, Nell Benjamin, Denise Winsor, Elizabeth Tindal, Debra McCarthy, Laura Lock, Chip Woods, Gary Marsh, Madeline Molis, Lyn Mason Green, Amy Dennison, Jane Edith Wilson, Eric Axen, Joni Harbin, Rose Auerbach, Mary Torio, Art Weaver, Dawn VanDercreek, Judy Kerr, Elizabeth Johnson-Stevens, Bill Tarling, Michelle McEvoy, Paul Molinaro, Bruce Smith, Aaron Silverman, and Keith Johnson.