Okay, let me just ask it plainly: Why do so many actors involve themselves with such shit theatre projects? Because we've all been there, where we've gotten ourselves together to go see our Talented Friend in their play, and we are..... horrified. Right? About 20-30 hours a year at least go by this way. And we come up with something nice to say at the end, get in the car, and rip the experience all the way home, plus or minus what is by that time a necessary drink at a nearby pub. And the most common question is often Why did my friend purposefully associate him/herself with that shit?

Consider me  serious when I say I don't mean to offend or diminish the efforts of the thousands of people every day who are trundling off to rehearse their latest play. I'm not trying to be cute. I truly respect the endeavor - it's not easy, and much of the labors involved are motivated by a real camaraderie and enthusiasm.

But why..... why, oh, why..... ? Now this gets very tricky. It's all in the eye of the beholder, right? I don't think anyone goes to work thinking, "I'm gonna dedicate myself to creating a complete piece of shit today." And certainly I'm vulnerable to the immediate comeback  - "Listen, I've seen some of what you directed and in my opinion it was shit." So let's hold on tight. I'm not talking about a group of primarily dedicated, experienced, professional people who set out to create a story and an experience, and for whatever reason it doesn't work out  - and  obviously all is subject to Almighty Personal Opinion of the Beholder. No problem. Nor am I talking about a group of perhaps less experienced, less trained, not-quite-professional-yet people who are doing their level best, but that "best" is not yet developed. Beginning musicians still need to start performing at some point, and while it isn't yet of a professional standard, you'd be an asshole to criticize the effort and thus shut down the possibility of encouraging further growth.

So let me rephrase: "Why do so many talented, professional actors, who should know better, involve themselves with what they know damned well is shit theatre, when they could be doing something else with that time and effort?" Because let's say you've got 5 weeks of rehearsal, 4 hours a day at 6 days a week - plus 6 weeks of performances, admin, invitations, traffic, etc. - let's add that up to a rough 300 hours or so of your life that will go into Play X. And in my humble opinion, for most of these really talented actors, who could easily be carrying part of a film or all of a good play or really making a difference in their career... That 300 hours is a waste. Now picture putting that 300 hours into training, or even into pure administration toward the film / television / theatre professionals with whom you really dream of working. Because I think if one of those industry professionals actually gets out to see you in this shit play, you'll have done more damage than good. Even if you're the only good thing in a shit play, I don't believe that helps you - you will primarily be associated with a shit play, with amateurism. Better to hold off until you have a really good part in a really good play. Too often we have the spectre of Talented Person Z, doing Shit Play X, spending 300 hours on this thing at the opportunity cost of 300 hours spent on _______.

But how do we get around the subjectivity of it? How do you know a shit play from not? How is this whole entry not just an explosion of snobbishness? Well - again, this is directed toward talented, trained, professional actors - and I believe these people know. And they know early. They knew it was shit the first time they read the script. They know after one week of rehearsal. And then they double down on the bad investment. Why do I assert this? Because most have admitted the same to me on a million occasions when I've felt courageous enough to ask. If I know the person well enough, or they take extra effort to extract my honest opinion - I'll tell them. And most often they know it, they admit they knew all along,  they are sheepish about it.

So it's really not about an external, subjective, snobby viewpoint about my opinion of shit theatre. It's about integrity. I believe the individual actor knows damned well they are diving into shit. But they somehow try to unknow this, or they use the ol' "well it is acting work and all" justification, and I believe they brainwash themselves and violate their integrity for the next 300 hours of that play. So if you believe in the script, in this theatre company, in this opportunity - then go for it. Truly. That's what we all do - we believe in something and then chase it. But if you know damned well it's crap - then know it. Act on that. Walk away with the knowledge that better parts are coming your way, better scripts, and that your integrity is more important than this particular job. No one will ever have a shit-free career, but you can at least change the percentages. And when you stand up for your integrity - I believe that is part of this whole career advancement trip. (And shhhhhhh: You'll act better.)

I detected a more-than-slightly moody vibe last Wednesday in class, and looking to debug the atmosphere, I noticed upon everyone's return to the theatre after a break the following: three students, all veterans, easy on the eyes, talented, leading lights of the place, had spent the break sitting in their chairs, heads down, glued to their bloody iPhones, playing games. Hmmmm... Whether this was a symptom or cause of the vibe is immaterial. I believe the two exist symbiotically. (From Acting Class: "This computer jazz can affect you if you're not careful, you can become this inert sponge - sitting for hours, 'surfing,' vacuous, soaking up millions of unrelated pieces of information, images, videos - jumbled, jangled and meaningless. Getting all into 'data,' rather than your imaginations.") I believe that the general atmosphere of information hurled at you 24 hours a day, available in full-color megapixel glory via the iPhone (and its ilk), are affecting actual artistic ability and attitude. It's tougher to get actors to dig in. But it also affects administration and common sense....

Recently, I've also witnessed four different script readings, two at the BHP and two outside. And at all four of these readings, there was a minimum of one actor on the stage, reading a lead part, who simply was not participating. Either they had clearly not read the script in advance, they weren't giving their all, they weren't enjoying it, they weren't giving - or there was a very glib vibe where they were kind of entertained themselves by the humor (if the script was comedic), but not digging in with even 20% of the talent they have.  At each reading, actors on stage were whispering to each other or offering visual communication and jokes to each other during the reading. At each reading, there were actors who were late for the reading itself, and breezily unconcerned by that fact.

These two observations lead me to think about opportunity.  I think actors too often prepare for opportunity only when it wears a metaphorical t-shirt with "Opportunity" written on it: an audition, a meeting, something where clearly a job or representation is at stake. And outside that, there can be the tendency to check out. Some will check out because they're with friends and so the standard of professionalism drops. But that's where the standard should be raised.  Opportunity doesn't put its name on a t-shirt. Opportunity doesn't necessarily advertise on Actors Access. Opportunity doesn't require a drive-on pass. Opportunity is often standing right next to you - you'll only realize it in five years when the person you dismissed, ignored, the person you don't meet or talk to because you're playing a damned video game, or whose reading you fucked up by not really giving... this person is in charge of millions of dollars for a project. You must kill a script reading, so the director/producers remember you as someone who kicks ass in any circumstance. (Script readings should have no different ethic or participation than an actual performance - this seems to have eluded many actors in LA. I remember back in 2006 a reading of Burn This that was arranged by a friend of mine who wanted me to direct it. The two actors playing Anna and Pale - Katrina Lenk and Justin Cotta - were electric, sensational, eye-popping, and remained that way through rehearsals and production.  To this day, I think of Katrina and Justin every time I direct a show to see if there's a role for them.)

Opportunity comes from getting your heads up from the damned iPhone and participating with your fellows in class, rehearsal, wherever. Yes, you must be social. No, you cannot check out and bury your head. Bury your head and play iPhone games at home. (I have occasionally banned all phones from the post-class get-together at Dresden, and once quite literally wrestled a student to the ground to try to extricate the phone from desperate, texting hands.....) Get this: the likelihood that you will get a meeting with Spielberg or Eastwood is far less than the likelihood that someone you know right now, who is sitting with you in class, will write / produce / direct / be involved in a project, and will look over a class list for possible actors. You need to be in that person's headspace, and you won't be there if you check out. You won't be there if you're late. You won't be there if you're moody at the wrong moment.  You won't be there if you are self-involved and nonresponsive. Judgments are being made all the time about you. I had a conversation with the director of one of those readings, and he quite clearly and irritably named three actors in that reading whom he dismissed from consideration for that script, and for all other projects. Will this guy end up doing something really important? Don't know. Can you afford to be wrong about that? So I think you'd better bet on yes. It's a win-win conclusion. And it's not like he told them that they fucked up - he was polite, thanked them, goodbye, talk to ya soon, etc. Those actors will never know the opportunities that just disappeared from their future - they just simply won't exist. Step back a moment from the endless fascination with apps and games and bullshit on your iPhone and the obvious may suddenly be dreadfully clear: The damned thing isn't ringing.

Opportunity knocks, but doesn't leave a note.

Had a chat with a student this week who 'fessed up to what I'm sure is a common feeling: "I hate doing the breakdowns!" I get it. The exercise has a certain soul-sucking vibe to it that can wear down mere mortals. I sense that so much of actors' administration  is too narrowly focused around the breakdowns and its generally low-level opportunities. If you get a queasy feeling from sending out headshots and other promo somewhat randomly, if you get sick at the contemplation of looking over breakdowns that rarely describe anything that interests you, and if you take into account that ideally your agent is already doing this chore for you, then.... DON'T DO IT. The administration of your career should not be a depressing activity! If it is, you'll never do it!

Admin is sort of like eating vegetables. It's a pedestrian simile, but downing some veggies will probably do some good things for your health, just as admin will do good things for your career. But if you hate peas (as I do with unadulterated passion), there are a lot of other vegetables to eat that you may like better. Ditto the admin. If you don't like breakdowns and postcards and Actors Access notifications about a zillion jobs that somehow don't excite you, then don't eat the damned peas. You're released! You're free! Stop punishing yourself!

BUT....  You must do some admin that does excite you. My opinion is that the best and most effective admin centers around reaching to the actual artists (writers / directors / producers) whom you admire and want to work with. So get creative about that. Many actors who are busy "adminning" away cannot name 10 directors who are working in the business past the usual hit parade of Scorsese, Coppola, Eastwood, etc, and cannot name 5 writers at all. Producers? Forget it. So if you want a basic step to start with, then get the names of 10 directors, 10 writers and 10 producers who have been the creative force behind your favorite film and television work over the last 2 years. That's thirty people to whom you can start writing, and trust me, you'll have a lot more fun with that. Those 30 people will probably be creating 100+ jobs for actors in the next year, so you'll be leveraging your communication toward future possibilities. Don't just wait for and then wade through the current casting opportunities while remaining blind to how those opportunities were created - and by whom. Hit the creators of those jobs on a consistent basis and thus be on their mind when they create them!