You've had a great day! You've just gotten home from a callback for a big, juicy part in a new play that's going into an Off-Broadway house at the end of next month, and they told you right away that you've got the role! Rehearsals start in two weeks; the contract will be ready in three days.
Your answering machine is blinking. You hit the button and hear a message from your new agent: Call her regarding the feature film audition she sent you out for last week.
Wow! You got that one, too! The agent is clearly excited as she tells you that, although it's not a big part, it's a guaranteed two-week shoot, at 15% over minimum. Contracts will be in the office next week--she'll call you as soon as they arrive--and shooting starts two weeks after that.
Whoa! The other shoe just dropped. Two weeks of shooting starts three weeks from now one week into rehearsals for the Off-Broadway play? This can't be happening. There's got to be a way to do both, right? You haven't worked for four months, you've started cater-waitering again to pay the rent, and now that you have TWO great job offers for good money, you have to turn one down?!
Frantic phone calls back and forth among you, the agent, the film's casting director, the film producer's office, the Off-Broadway play's casting director, the stage manager, the director. No, the shooting schedule can't be rearranged at this late date. No, you can't possibly miss two crucial weeks of rehearsal--the role is too important. Both casting directors imply that, much as the directors liked you, there are other people in line; they need an answer tomorrow.
Okay, decision time. Do the film: It's the first time an agent has shown any interest in sending you out for film work, and you've been cultivating her for eight months. Do the play: It's a new play by a hot young writer who had a 10-month run Off-Broadway two years ago. Do the film: It may not be a huge part, but you'll have tape on yourself, and the agent can push you with other casting people. Do the play: The director is someone you've wanted to work with for years, he's always working, and he reportedly uses people he likes over and over. What if your part in the film winds up on the cutting-room floor? What if the film never gets released? What if the play closes in a week? What if it gets awful reviews? The film is more money unless, of course, the play runs for six months or more, which could happen. The play will be higher profile here in New York, but what do L.A. casting directors know from Off-Broadway?
SUB: PLANNING: BETTER THAN FLIPPING A COIN
Planning. It sounds like something that corporate types do. But think of it this way: When you go on a trip, you know where you are, you decide where you want to go, and you figure out how to get there from here. That kind of planning can be your best hedge against unexpected events and decisions that you never thought you'd have to make. When an actor has long-term plans, it is possible to see how either of two choices would fit into those plans, and to make decisions accordingly. You've created a road map; looking at it, you can see which choice will bring you closer to your destination.
Just like planning your trip, planning your career has three steps: Assess your current situation, set future goals, plan what steps you can take to achieve them. Planning can be done in any number of ways, physically, depending on what works best for you. Some people are very methodical, making neat columns and lists; others "mind-map" with circles and connecting lines.
Putting goals on paper allows one to think about them in a concrete fashion. Are the goals impossible ones which will ultimately lead to frustration? (Top Demi Moore's salary by next year!) Are they not challenging enough, a reflection of negative thinking? (Try to get by on less money next month.) Do they tell you something about how you really feel, feelings that you were not facing? (I really do hate New York. I want to move to L.A.)
SUB: WHEN LOST: LOOK AT YOUR MAP
Goals and plans offer a blueprint when decisions need to be made. When faced with a choice between two acting jobs, consider each in relationship to your plans and goals. Let's return to the actor's dilemma at the opening of this article and see what happens when there is a framework of goals and plans in which to make this decision.
Factors the actor would look at in this situation would include: the type of work offered, the contacts to be made, the money. Are the actor's long-term goals to stay in New York and work in theatre, or to work in film and eventually move to L.A.? Obviously the Off-Broadway show takes him nearer the first goal; the film takes him toward the second. Likewise, the contacts made in taking either job will lead to more theatre work or more film work. If the money in one is significantly greater than in the other, how important is that to his goals? If the money has a significant impact on goals at the moment--to have new headshots done, or to save money to get a better living situation, or to pay off a debt--then that may override other objectives.
This is still going to be an agonizing choice that the actor will loose some sleep over--all the plans in the world aren't going to change that. But the planning and goal-setting process gives him a concrete starting point in decision-making.
What happens if, after looking carefully at all your plans and determining the choice which will take you closer to your goals, all your instincts tell you to make the other choice anyway? Do it. If your feelings are so strong that they override everything else, then your subconscious mind has already made the decision and is telling you what to do. Take the risk and take a sidetrack from your goals for now: Maybe your instincts are telling you that you need to adjust those goals.
It may sound contrary, but one of the main points of planning is not to make plans that don't change, but to understand that the process of planning is a constantly changing one. That is why you should go through the process every six months, at least--to assess where you are, and why you are there, and whether the plan still represents an intelligent approach to reaching your goals. If you think of your goals as set in stone, and you don't attain them, you will be frustrated and angry with yourself. On the other hand, if you see the fact that you haven't attained your goals as a signal that something is out of kilter, then you can reassess and adjust things. Maybe those goals aren't really the most important ones after all. Maybe the steps you outlined to reach your goals aren't practical. Try something different.
SUB: IRREVOCABLE? MAYBE, MAYBE NOT
One of the factors that adds stress to making choices is the feeling that a decision, once made, is irrevocable. This is true of many decisions an actor makes: If you take one part over another, the one you passed on will be recast in a day or so, and you can't go back on your decision. However, we have a tendency to see all major decisions as irrevocable, when in fact many of them are not.
One of the first things to do, when faced with a decision, is to determine whether it is, in fact, irreversible. The decision to move from New York to L.A., for example, is reversible. If you get out there and hate it, you can come back. It might be expensive and a great deal of trouble to do so, but it can be done. Likewise, the decision to return to school for a graduate degree--or not to return to school for a graduate degree--is reversible; so is moving out of Manhattan to Hoboken, or studying with a certain acting teacher, or signing with an agent. Seeing that a certain decision, once made, could be unmade if it isn't working for you, relieves a good deal of pressure. Of course, you want to make the best choice for yourself right now, but if that turns out not to be the case down the road, you can change your decision--so your entire world is not riding on this choice.
SUB: IF ONLY
Now, how about those irreversible decisions? You can't be two places at once: If you pass on a job, it's gone and (generally) you can't get it back. You've thought about the two choices in relationship to your goals and plan, you've considered positive and negative aspects of both, and you've made your decision. Now let it go.
There is no benefit to be gained by second-guessing your decisions, once made. Think of yourself as walking in Robert Frost's woods: two roads diverge, and you choose one. "And that has made all the difference," the poet tells us, but difference from what? If your path turns rocky, you have no way of knowing whether the other path would have been more or less rocky.
Here's the ultimate "actor's nightmare": You pass on the role in the Off-Broadway play, and do the film. Six months later the play is picked up, moves to Broadway, and the actor in "your" part wins a Tony. Does that mean that if you had not passed, you would be accepting that Tony? Not at all. The unique sequence of events that led to that Tony may have been completely different and may have led somewhere else entirely if you had taken the role--you can never know what would have happened if things were other than they are. Bottom line: Agonizing over "what might have been" serves no positive purpose, but rather keeps you from focusing on what is, and on how to get the most satisfaction from your current reality.
SUB: BURNING BRIDGES
It's hard enough for a performer actor to make a decision when he or she is choosing between two upcoming projects. Even worse, though, is deciding whether to leave a current project for another offer. Added to the mix of emotions that we've already discussed are feelings of guilt ("it's unprofessional to pull out") and fear ("if I leave, they'll never hire me again!").
In preparation for this article, Back Stage asked four New York actors to share some of their experiences in making difficult decisions. The quandry of whether to pull out of one project when another comes along hit very close to home for most of them.
Actor Michael Lasswell recommends first investigating all options: "especially if it's a film or TV job, find out if they can move it. Very often film and TV people will say that it's etched in stone, but if you fill a little niche that they can't fill elsewhere, they may work around you. This happened to me with a "Miami Vice" gig--I wasn't even going to go to the audition, because it conflicted with a play I was doing. But an 'old pro' in the cast of the play told me to go to the audition, if only to be seen by the casting director. Well, I got the role and it did conflict with the play, but they said they would work around me. When I told him my good news, the old pro said, 'Get it in writing.' And so I did. I had it in writing that I would be released from shooting by 7:00 on Tuesday night. And it took so much time setting up the shot--even though I told them all day long that I had to leave--sure enough, they hadn't shot my scene yet. When 7:15 rolled around, I walked off the set of "Miami Vice"--with the director screaming after me. Six months later they were casting another episode and I was up for this major role. I went in hoping they wouldn't recognize me. I thought, there's no way they would hire me, but the casting director said, "No, there's no hard feelings at all. You had it in writing.' "
Is that typical of how the people at the other end of the contract feel when an actor leaves? Back Stage talked to a producer (who preferred not to be named) who has run a nonprofit Equity theatre for close to 20 years. Here are his thoughts on the subject:
"When I first started producing, I took everything personally. I was deeply wounded when an actor left a show. I was angry that he left, and worried about replacing him--I literally lost sleep over it. Finally I realized this is just a part of doing business, a fact of life that everyone has to accept. When we hold auditions, ideally I like to come out 'three deep' on all the lead roles. That way if I don't get my first choice, or if the actor winds up leaving for another job, I have backups in mind. And I must say, that invariably an actor who comes in as a replacement winds up being wonderful--I frequently feel the outcome is better than it would have been with the actor we originally cast!
"The fact that we work under Actors' Equity's Small Professional Theatre contract means that almost anything that comes along for an actor is 'more remunerative employment,' so we have virtually no contractual protection--except that an actor can't leave during opening week. And actors have to make a living. How can I blame someone for pulling out of a five-week committment that will net them only about $1,000, if they're offered an industrial that will make them $6,000 in 10 days? But a lot depends on how and when an actor pulls out.
"Once I've signed an actor, I want to be told about a potential conflict as soon as there is a reasonably strong possibility that it might arise. I really appreciate the actor who calls me and says, 'I just want to warn you that I've been called back twice now for this project that would conflict, and that I feel I would have to take, if I got it. I should know for sure by next Wednesday.' That gives me some time to think about what I will do if I have to replace him, put out some feelers to other actors in advance, maybe even hire an understudy (not normally required on our contract). Obviously I don't want to know about every possibility, no matter how slim--I'd never get any sleep--but if the actor thinks there's a good chance he'll be leaving, I want to know sooner, rather than later. Of course, many actors won't do this, because they feel it might jeopardize their standing with the director or producer somehow--but, in my eyes, it will actually enhance it.
"The times that I do hold it against an actor who pulls out are those times when the actor has really put me in a bind--it's very close to opening, the publicity has gone out, the program is printed, and I was given no warning whatsoever. Or when it's not a clear-cut case of the other contract paying much more than mine--then I would say, yes, I feel the actor is being unprofessional not to honor his prior committment, and I would probably not hire that actor again."
Talking to the director in advance worked for Mary Baird, an actress who relates being faced with a difficult decision: "When I was first starting out, I was at a theatre where I had the leads in two musicals, when I was offered a job elsewhere for a very small role, but for twice as much money. I had no agent pressuring me, it was just my decision, and I had decided that the right thing for me to do was to take the job that paid me more money. I went to the director, who was also the producer, and we sat and talked. I was very confident with my decision, but I would have been leaving him in the lurch. He was quite shocked that I would even consider leaving, and during the course of our conversation I realized that leaving was the wrong thing to do, that I should stay where I was. It was scary and hard, but it was the right thing to stay and make less money in a more creative role.
"The director was very generous--I was fortunate that he would have this dialogue with me. And, afterward, he didn't hold a grudge."
The producer we interviewed, oddly enough, seems easier on actors who leave a job than does fellow-actor John Newton, who told Back Stage, "it's a matter of where your ethics are. It was never any problem for me. I wouldn't leave a show. I was doing an Off-Broadway show for little or no money, and I was offered a very big commercial which might have meant $20,000 with residuals. And it didn't take me two seconds to decide. I just said, 'Sorry, I can't do that, I'm doing a show.' Of course, I don't think my agent has recovered yet."
Agents, in fact, can be useful buffers between an actor and a producer, and can take some of the heat for a client turning down a job--or maybe stretch the truth a bit, to keep the actor in the producer's good graces. It's part of their job, and everyone knows it. But agents live off of commissions, and frequently push an actor toward the money work, disregarding a client's artistic needs. Or they may focus on the money to be made now, rather than seeds to be sown for a future payoff. So it is essential that actors share their long-term goals with their agents, sometimes even to the point of leaving an agent who does not seem supportive of those goals.
SUB: BUT WE'RE FRIENDS HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME?
Often actors will find themselves working in a show with some close friends for little or no money. It may be a project close to their hearts--written by a playwriting friend, and seen by all involved as a chance for a "big break." This may be the most difficult circumstance of all to pull out of without burning bridges. You feel that your friends should be supportive of your having to make a difficult choice; they feel that even to consider pulling out is a betrayal. The resulting wounds can take a long time to heal.
One way to deal with this potential problem is to discuss rationally with all those involved, when beginning the project, the possibility of someone having to leave. The group might work out a mechanism for covering various roles within the cast, and have a list of other appropriate actors who could step in on short notice. Sharing with each other the feelings that can arise when such a conflict occurs, before there is any such conflict, can help all those involved to maintain a more objective perspective. And they might all agree upon a date that is "the point of no return," after which no one will leave the show for any reason.
Also, actors should be extremely careful about what they say, no matter how enthusiastic they are about a project. You may be utterly sincere when you tell your close friend, "Don't worry, nothing would entice me away from this part!" But think about it rationally: Nothing? Not even a role in a feature film? A TV series? Your Broadway debut? Much better to be honest and say, "I love this role, and I'll do everything I can, with good conscience, to stay in it. But we must realize there's always the chance something might come along that I could not turn down. I will give you as much warning as possible of anything that might necessitate my leaving the show."
SUB: THAT'S LIFE
Just when everything in your career seems to be moving forward just fine, Life comes along and screws it up. As if it weren't hard enough to make career decisions, there are life decisions, too, like: Do I want to have children? My 'significant other' wants to move out of the city; what should I do? How can I take care of a family member who's ill? What about that college loan I still have to pay off?
Many actors seem to pervert Shakespeare's "All the world's a stage" into "the stage is my only world." In her book "Smart Actors, Foolish Choices," author Katherine Mayfield warns, "It's easy to get so wrapped up in trying to make it as an actor that you may find you're perceiving yourself only as an actor who is trying to make it instead of as a person with a varied and fulfilling life--something the pursuit of a career as an actor is only part of." How do actors handle life decisions which will affect their careers as performers?
Money so frequently becomes the largest issue. Patching together a living wage--much less a means of supporting a family--is a real challenge, and is the reason that so many actors turn from theatre to the more lucrative mediums of film and television. John Newton had etched out a healthy career in Los Angeles--partly due to the fact that he grew up in Colorado, riding horses, so he was prime material for "Bonanza" and the other TV westerns of the 1960s--but ultimately returned to his first love of theatre.
"I went to New York right out of college in the '50s, when live TV was shooting here, and I was doing fairly well. Then just when my children got to the age where I thought they should not be on the New York streets if I could help it, TV moved to Hollywood. So I went out there in '58 and was there for 10 years, until 1968, and I was doing quite well. But just at that time I started hearing about the regional theatres, and that's exactly what I had always wanted to do.
"You know, when you get to the point where you start making good money out there, you either say, 'If I can get a few more jobs like that, I can get a house in Malibu,' or you say, 'If I can get a few more jobs like that, I can get the hell out of here.' And that's what I found myself saying, so I just went. I remember exactly when it happened: It was in the spring, I had a role on "FBI," and Efrem Zimbalist, Jr. and another actor and I were talking. They asked me what I was doing next. I told them I was going to do stock that summer, and play "My Fair Lady"--I was all excited about it. And Zimbalist said, 'Well, if I were 20 years younger, that's what I'd be doing.'
And the other actor said, 'Zim, if you were 20 years younger, you'd be doing "77 Sunset Strip." ' And this funny look came over his face. He said, 'Yeah, that's right.' At that moment I said to myself, 'I'm out of here.' That was not a hard decision for me at all."
Lynn Bowman is an actress whose husband, Bill Mahone, had been an actor for about 10 years before he decided to leave the stage and return to law school. After their two children (now 10 and 12 years old) were born, they left New York for nearby Connecticut, where Bill now works. "My issues have been with family," Bowman told Back Stage. "It wasn't tough to decide to get married, and it wasn't tough to decide to have kids, but once I had them, then I realized how difficult it really was. I did one role in stock when my daughter was six months old, and I just about had a nervous breakdown. That made me realize that I was a hands-on parent, and I just didn't have enough time, energy, ability to do both things at the same time.
"So I didn't do any stage work for at least six years after that. I just quit. I did do commercials during that time, which gave me some sense of being productive and some sense of success, but it didn't make me happy. I didn't like that work and I'm glad not to be doing it any longer. But [having returned to stage work] I do feel that I'm continually doing some kind of balancing act, between my sense of how to be a good parent, and the realization that I have a very strong need to be on a stage.
"I haven't really figured it all out, but I would say that generally it's harder on a woman, who tends more often to be the nurturer. I think there are ways to do it, but you have to think about it carefully--about how much work it is, and what kind of a parent you want to be. For instance, do you have the money for an au pair, and do you want to choose that kind of child-rearing. My choice is that I don't travel, which, of course, limits my options--I won't take a job for six weeks in Minneapolis. I have to be with my family--there's nothing that can make up for time with your kids, not money or anything else."
SUB: YOU'RE NOT ALONE
If it's any comfort, every actor is faced with these difficult choices--it comes with the territory. Talking with other actors can help, and many actors form casual "support groups" to help them cope with just such issues. Simply "venting" may provide some short-term relief from anxiety, but it doesn't really help much in the long run. More productive is a group in which the actors help each other set goals and map out ways to achieve them. That way, when "two roads diverge in a wood," your support team has helped you prepare for deciding which to