February 2, 2000
Sometimes I really feel like I don't know what I'm doing. This audition was for an hour-long legal drama for The WB. Now I've always been a decent actor, I guess. I don't really know. I am very confident that I can make things funny in a sitcom, but as far as good old-fashioned raw-emotion acting goes, I don't know what's going on. And, of course, there's no way to tell. I am a slave to that audience feedback, I suppose. I need them, dammit. I need them.
So today was just that problem. I had three scenes, all of which I spent plenty of time on and had prepared thoroughly and comfortably. I went in there and I did what I had set out to do. Lines and moves were coming out of me just about how I had envisioned them. And throughout the entire 10-minute adventure, there were no laughs. There wasn't even any dialogue between the producers and me as we moved from scene to scene. Maybe they didn't want to take me out of the moment. Who knows? Maybe they were already thinking about what they might order for lunch. Or crazier still, maybe they enjoyed what I was doing and were into it. I simply have no idea!!
When I finished, no one jumped for joy. I didn't do terribly, but I don't think I set the TV world on its ear. It was my first audition for Heidi Levitt herself in a long, long time. I first set foot in her offices seven-and-a-half years ago. It was my very first television guest star audition ever, for the television show, Class of '96, with Megan Ward, Kari Wuhrer, and Jason Gedrick, among others. It was a young, hip show right before young, hip shows were young and hip. It died right as 90210 was really taking off. What can I say? They should have cast me.
And seven-and-a-half years later, I feel the same way. This time I do
have my SAG card, and I have been a series regular on a network
television show. You'd have to think I've got a better shot now,
wouldn't you? But it's auditions like this one that lead me to
believe I will never work in films or TV ever again. I prepare, I go
in, I do what I think is the best job I can do, I go home, and I
don't get the part. And what it feels like is that I don't get the
part because I have no way to make my performance stand out from the
others. I can't make it unique through my choices nor through my
acting ability. And so why would I ever get a job over the hundreds
of thousands of other actors in this town? With so many people
struggling for the same tiny morsels of food, how do I expect to eat?
Why would they watch actor after actor parade by them day in and day
out saying the same lines over and over and for some reason stop on
me and say, "That's it. We found him."? Again, I simply
have no idea.