DEAR WORKING ACTOR:
I have had what many would consider a very successful acting career. I trained at a reputable conservatory and earned a BFA. I went on to work on the union stage in many large theatres and spent three years on stage at one of the premier repertory theatres in the country. I moved to L.A. and immediately booked a recurring role on a major network show that lasted for three years. I had an amazing agency and a great manager.
Years went by in L.A. and I booked a smattering of jobs — some high-profile film and TV work with people I have admired my whole life, some lead roles, some strong supporting. However, even after countless auditions and producers' sessions, my career has failed to gain any notable momentum. Earlier this year, during the writers strike, my agent of the last six years dropped me. I was told — via voice mail — it was not because of me or a lack of talent or good feedback but because they had lost steam and felt they weren't doing the hard work my career deserved. Classic breakup bullsh*t: "It's not you, it's me."
My heart sank. But I still had a manager, and we struck out again, looking for new agents. We were met with a lot of noes. People were tightening their belts, etc. I tried to keep my chin up. I'm not faint-hearted and have never kidded myself about the difficulties of this business. Finally we chose to go with a very small agency but one my manager had a good working relationship with and felt would work passionately for us. It seemed like just the thing I needed.
Now four months have gone by, and I've had one audition. I called my new agent to see what was going on. He told me he had submitted me all over town and had gotten a lot of "Oh, we know him; he's great. But just not right for this part." All right, then. Something is off.
Meanwhile, I'm broke, have worked only as an actor since I was 17, and am feeling like it's all over for me. I'm relatively young, too. I'm not playing high schoolers, but I'm not playing dads, either. I'm right in that weird place in between, a place where fantastic career-making roles emerge for those still getting the opportunities to audition for them.
I'm facing sleepless nights and don't know where to turn. Should I seek new agents and possibly new management? Would it be wise to go to NYC right now and pursue a theatre career? Should I get a day job and get back into some classes? Or do I give up on it completely? I've never let myself even entertain the notion of walking away from my only real passion in life, but maybe I'm just not getting the hint. I'm pretty distraught, and the looming actors strike isn't making me feel any better.
— Dying on the Vine
Los Angeles, Calif.
DEAR DYING:
I'm genuinely sorry you're suddenly having such a struggle after having such a consistently successful career. It's so random, so strange, so illogical, this profession of ours.
You've been in the business long enough to know I'm not going to be able to give you the magic answer that will fix everything. If anyone were to propose one, you'd know better than to believe it. And you also know that no one can tell you which of the choices you've listed — New York, new reps, new career — is the right one. Maybe there's no such thing as the right choice. By most people's standards, you're a successful actor. Short of being a star, there's not much more we could ask than to make a living at what we do. And if nothing else, you've done our readers a great service by showing how tenuous this profession can be: Even those of us who find success can never rely on it.
All of the foregoing notwithstanding, I am not going to leave you "dying on the vine" — with no other consolation than that you've been an example to others — without words of perspective, advice, and encouragement.
The toll that union strikes — past and possible future — are taking on our industry is no joke. Talent agencies have been affected like the rest of us. I recently made an agency switch and encountered, in the shopping process, the same kind of fear and belt-tightening you describe in your letter. But here's the good news on that front: Eventually this storm will pass, and people will start hanging out their shingles again. That doesn't solve your immediate dilemma, but perspective helps: Show business is not over. Neither is your career.
Meanwhile, yes, I think you should find an agency worthy of your résumé. The scarcity of your auditions isn't so shocking: The industry is in pre-strike mode, and few of us are going out much. But your agents' story about the reaction from casting people sounds fishy and suggests they're not pitching hard enough or aren't pitching you for the right roles. Don't settle for inadequacy as you sink into despair. Stay with them for now, but look for better representation. Keep in mind: It's a rough time to shop, so don't be discouraged if it takes a while.
Meet with your manager and work on a new game plan. Try not to make it a complaint session. Instead, look beyond the current climate and plan the next phase. Show your manager that you're not giving up. He may even be inspired by your determination.
If you were an amateur who hadn't had any signs of being in the right profession, I might advocate a career change. In your case, I'm giving advice I rarely give: Stay in the business. This moment is just one tick on a very large clock — a rough patch, typical of this strange profession. You're young. Trust me, you'll have lots more ups and downs.
Next, cultivate friendships with your contemporaries. Go have a drink and swap war stories. Compare notes, or just commiserate. The camaraderie of actors can be a wonderful balm for a troubled soul.
Meanwhile, yes, look for a support job. I know the idea is distasteful, but hear me out. Generating income while you wait calms financial fears. It also gives you someplace to go — someplace where you'll see people and have responsibilities. I can't overstate the value of that. It can help you get "unstuck." And here's the strange one: Call it coincidence, karma, God, the universe, energy, positive thinking, or whatever, but actors who overcome their resistance to having a support job often start booking like crazy. Finally, go see a funny movie. Laughing is crucial. Hang in there.
Michael Kostroff is a working actor, freelance columnist, and author of Letters from Backstage (available at Amazon.com). He teaches the monthly "Audition Psych 101" workshop (info at AuditionPsych101@aol.com).