This is the first in a series of posts on habits that can be practiced every time you work. On its own, each habit is small – just something practical to keep in mind. But practicing enough small habits of craft can lead to big breakthroughs of artistry.
These habits apply to film actors, but the underlying principles carry across disciplines. To keep things organized, let’s begin with the first time you see the script and work our way toward the final performance. Which makes the first habit this: avoid reading character breakdowns.
(A quick aside: this post is aimed at actors who are represented by agents. If you self-represent, it will hopefully still point to ways to separate the agent and actor parts of yourself.)
Most film auditions begin like this: your agent sends an email, which often includes a character breakdown – a brief description of the role for which you are reading.
The obvious choice here is to read that breakdown right away. It’s right there, the first thing you see, and you want to know all you can about the character, right? It may seem counterintuitive, but avoid reading that breakdown.
Go first to the script. Read it – out loud – and start to make your choices. Play with it, experiment. When you feel you’ve found your unique and most compelling approach to the role, only then can you peek at the character breakdown.
Why? Why would you stay willfully ignorant if that breakdown can tell you what they are looking for? Because that’s the last thing you need to be worried about: what they are looking for. This is what is wrong with how so many actors approach auditions, and it’s the first and foremost reason to avoid the breakdown: start your process with you and your instincts, not with some notion of what is “right” or what others want.
A character breakdown is most often written by a casting agent, and it is intended for a talent agent, who reads it to see which of her actors she’s going to submit for the role. So the breakdown is written by and intended to be read by somebody looking at the role from the outside. Your job is never to look at the role from the outside, so of what use could that breakdown be?
You didn’t necessarily get the audition based on your similarity to that breakdown. Or perhaps you did. Either way, your only concern is this: they want to see you. Any information in the breakdown at best doesn’t change that and at worst guides you off course.
Some breakdowns are fairly innocuous, but I’ve seen many examples of how they can misguide you. Because they describe the role from the outside, breakdowns sometimes include judgments about the character: “He’s a real nerd; He’s a total letch; He’s really uptight.” That’s a terrible place from which to start to make your choices, and it puts you at great risk of showy clichés.
And there are times you are called in despite the breakdown, because they want to broaden the scope. I once was called in for a role described as “short, fat, and ugly, with a handlebar mustache.” I’m 6’3”, fairly lean, and clean-shaven. So ugly was my only match. If I were try to hew to that description somehow, I would look like an ass, and I’d miss discovering how the role worked with someone quite different from that description; someone like me.
And sometimes the breakdown is just wrong. I once got a callback for a film where my agent told me, “They want to see you again, but you got it all wrong. Luckily, so did everyone else.” The casting agent had misinterpreted the style of the film, and the breakdown had led every single actor down the wrong path. The second audition was what I would have done the first time had I not tried to mold myself to the breakdown. It was a lot more fun, and I got the part.
The worst information offered by breakdowns shows up more frequently in the commercial world: “A So-and-So Type,” where so-and-so refers to whichever celebrity they wish they could have gotten instead of you. If you’re a comedian doing impressions, this is valuable information. But to the actor, it’s a terrible distraction that calls out the worst habits. In truth, you will win far more roles by convincing them that they’re looking for a “you” type than by trying to become someone else.
For all of the times that a breakdown has been disruptive and misleading, I can think of very few times that it has been helpful. The best breakdowns offer a simple physical description and some context for the scene. You should discover the context by reading and playing with the script, and any physical clues not offered by the script don’t concern you. Remember, if you are being asked to read, they want to seeyou. Even if you are quite different from the breakdown.
I don’t believe that I can convince you not to look at the breakdown at all. You’re convinced that there’s some important piece of information – about wardrobe, about the film’s style – that you’re going to miss out on. So I only say this: discipline yourself to always go to the script first. Spend time there, make your choices, have fun, and feel ownership. Then, when you return to the breakdown, you’ll have a context from which to take or leave any information it offers.
But I dare you to try this once: ignore the breakdown altogether. It wasn’t written for you, and it offers no help. Your deliberate avoidance will give you a sense of empowerment – shirking any notions of looking for what they want – and lead you to make choices that are bold, fun, and, above all, true to yourself.
Your habits are not about finding approval or chasing jobs. They are about making you a better artist and giving you a strong sense of self. The work will come as you develop your craft, and it will be work you can take pride in.
Next up: Time with the script, and the highlighting habit.
(A quick aside: this post is aimed at actors who are represented by agents. If you self-represent, it will hopefully still point to ways to separate the agent and actor parts of yourself.)
Most film auditions begin like this: your agent sends an email, which often includes a character breakdown – a brief description of the role for which you are reading.
The obvious choice here is to read that breakdown right away. It’s right there, the first thing you see, and you want to know all you can about the character, right? It may seem counterintuitive, but avoid reading that breakdown.
Go first to the script. Read it – out loud – and start to make your choices. Play with it, experiment. When you feel you’ve found your unique and most compelling approach to the role, only then can you peek at the character breakdown.
Why? Why would you stay willfully ignorant if that breakdown can tell you what they are looking for? Because that’s the last thing you need to be worried about: what they are looking for. This is what is wrong with how so many actors approach auditions, and it’s the first and foremost reason to avoid the breakdown: start your process with you and your instincts, not with some notion of what is “right” or what others want.
A character breakdown is most often written by a casting agent, and it is intended for a talent agent, who reads it to see which of her actors she’s going to submit for the role. So the breakdown is written by and intended to be read by somebody looking at the role from the outside. Your job is never to look at the role from the outside, so of what use could that breakdown be?
You didn’t necessarily get the audition based on your similarity to that breakdown. Or perhaps you did. Either way, your only concern is this: they want to see you. Any information in the breakdown at best doesn’t change that and at worst guides you off course.
Some breakdowns are fairly innocuous, but I’ve seen many examples of how they can misguide you. Because they describe the role from the outside, breakdowns sometimes include judgments about the character: “He’s a real nerd; He’s a total letch; He’s really uptight.” That’s a terrible place from which to start to make your choices, and it puts you at great risk of showy clichés.
And there are times you are called in despite the breakdown, because they want to broaden the scope. I once was called in for a role described as “short, fat, and ugly, with a handlebar mustache.” I’m 6’3”, fairly lean, and clean-shaven. So ugly was my only match. If I were try to hew to that description somehow, I would look like an ass, and I’d miss discovering how the role worked with someone quite different from that description; someone like me.
And sometimes the breakdown is just wrong. I once got a callback for a film where my agent told me, “They want to see you again, but you got it all wrong. Luckily, so did everyone else.” The casting agent had misinterpreted the style of the film, and the breakdown had led every single actor down the wrong path. The second audition was what I would have done the first time had I not tried to mold myself to the breakdown. It was a lot more fun, and I got the part.
The worst information offered by breakdowns shows up more frequently in the commercial world: “A So-and-So Type,” where so-and-so refers to whichever celebrity they wish they could have gotten instead of you. If you’re a comedian doing impressions, this is valuable information. But to the actor, it’s a terrible distraction that calls out the worst habits. In truth, you will win far more roles by convincing them that they’re looking for a “you” type than by trying to become someone else.
For all of the times that a breakdown has been disruptive and misleading, I can think of very few times that it has been helpful. The best breakdowns offer a simple physical description and some context for the scene. You should discover the context by reading and playing with the script, and any physical clues not offered by the script don’t concern you. Remember, if you are being asked to read, they want to seeyou. Even if you are quite different from the breakdown.
I don’t believe that I can convince you not to look at the breakdown at all. You’re convinced that there’s some important piece of information – about wardrobe, about the film’s style – that you’re going to miss out on. So I only say this: discipline yourself to always go to the script first. Spend time there, make your choices, have fun, and feel ownership. Then, when you return to the breakdown, you’ll have a context from which to take or leave any information it offers.
But I dare you to try this once: ignore the breakdown altogether. It wasn’t written for you, and it offers no help. Your deliberate avoidance will give you a sense of empowerment – shirking any notions of looking for what they want – and lead you to make choices that are bold, fun, and, above all, true to yourself.
Your habits are not about finding approval or chasing jobs. They are about making you a better artist and giving you a strong sense of self. The work will come as you develop your craft, and it will be work you can take pride in.
Next up: Time with the script, and the highlighting habit.