When I was much, much younger, all the world was a stage, and I was more than happy to be one of the players. I had a hard time shutting off that thing that makes me an actor, and most of the time, I was “on” in some way or another.
It got to be a little obnoxious, I think, but as the I portion of my INFP began to assert itself, I found that I was happier when I was out of the spotlight. Sure, I’m very happy to be on a stage, but I prefer that stage to be in a theatre, rather than constantly under my feet.
This morning I wrote: “. . . and that’s when I realized that I was really a writer: the day I started treating every experience I had as an opportunity to get a good story . . .”
I guess the world is still a stage, I still have my exits and entrances, and in my time I’ve played many parts . . . but right now, I play the part of The Writer.
This creates a bit of a conflict when I am supposed to be The Actor.
I drove to the Music Center for my audition today. I would have taken the train, but I lost track of time at home — wait for it — writing. It’s about a 45 minute commitment to take the Metro, and I can drive it in 20 minutes, so drive it I did. The entire way there, I put myself into The Actor’s space: I must look crazy to other drivers, talking to myself about why the character does this thing, and what made him to that other thing, gesturing wildly, and occasionally shouting out dialogue. By the time I got to my audition, I was The Actor.
As soon as I walked into the building, The Writer completely took over. Without realizing it, I absorbed every detail I saw: the beautiful black and white photos of actors on stage at the Taper, the Ahmanson, the Chandler. The huge blow-ups of Playbills, posters, and programs, representing decades of shows. The actors quietly walking down the halls to rehearsals and workshops, their minds clearly locked deep into the scripts they clutched in their hands. The barely audible sound of a singer and a piano drifting up the halls from an unseen rehearsal room, working its way past those photos and posters to meet my ears while I signed-in.
There is this intangible thing that makes theatre completely different from everything else I do as an actor. It feels more . . . noble. When I audition for television or film, I usually wait with legions of actors in rooms that are always filled with a cacophony of ringing phones, ka-chunking copiers, whirring fax machines, and agitated assistants, while we vainly try to concentrate and prepare. There is always a sense that we are incredibly unimportant to the whole process; a necessary, but ultimately disposable, evil. There are notable exceptions (like when I auditioned for CSI) but more often than not, when we finally enter the room to do our thing, they don’t even know we’re there.
The few times I’ve been fortunate enough to audition for theatre (in Los Angeles and in New York) there’s an entirely different energy: it’s calm, it’s quiet, there are never more than four or five actors preparing their materials. There’s a sense of reverence for the craft, for the art. I realize this sounds incredibly pretentious, but it’s true. The overwhelming feeling I got today, which is the same I’ve felt whenever I’ve auditioned for theatre is This Matters.
As I sat there this morning and listened to the piano, I tried to read over my lines, but The Writer shoved The Actor out of the way, and did his best to suck in every last detail. I’ve realized that when these conflicts come up, I should just get out of the way and let them duke it out. If The Actor is ready, The Writer can do his thing. If The Actor needs more work, The Writer usually sits quietly and waits his turn.
After a few minutes, the door opened, and an actor walked out. He looked spent, but happy, like he’d left it all on the floor in there.
“Wil?” The casting director said.
“That’s me,” I said, as I picked up my sides.
She introduced herself, and walked me into the room. It was a long rectangular space, with a bare wooden floor and a small table at one end near the door. A few metal chairs lined up against the long wall to my left. The room was huge, but it felt more welcoming and more comfortable than many of the “intimate” television offices I’ve sat in recently.
I looked around, and realized that I’d read in this exact room about a decade ago, for a play at the Taper. I forget the title, but it was a great bit of work, and I was totally not up to the task. I didn’t deserve the opportunity; I got the audition because I was A Famous Guy, and I did as poorly as you’d expect.
That memory flashed through my mind as I was introduced to a bunch of people, and it wasn’t until I got to the director that I was sort of back in my body. I shook his hand, and — holy shit — I connected to him immediately. I don’t know why, and I don’t want to over-think it, but there was some visceral connection, like I’d known him for a thousand years.
“This is going to be awesome,” I thought.
“Do you have any questions?” He said. Even if I do have questions, I never ask them. In a casting session, they want to know that you are completely prepared, you totally grok the character and the material, and asking questions usually indicates that you don’t, or you’re really nervous. Unless the material is really unclear, and I absolutely need to know something, I always decline the opportunity.
Fortunately, today, I really didn’t have any questions, so I just said, “I have a take on this character. I’d like to show him to you, and when I’m done, we can see where we are. Is that cool?”
He smiled warmly. “That’s fine, Wil.”
“I think I’m going to sit for this scene, is that okay?”
“Of course. But feel free to walk around if you are inclined.”
I picked up one of the metal chairs, and carried it to the middle of the room. Two actors sat opposite me in metal chairs of their own. They smiled at me as I sat down and picked up my sides.
I did the scene. I wasn’t 100% off-book, but I was connected to the material and the character. I thought I knew what the scene was about, and why this guy was saying the things he said, so I just . . . did that.
When I was done, the director said, “That was great, Wil.” He turned to the casting director and said, “Do we have any other scenes for Wil to read?”
“No, that’s it,” she said.
“We have a ton of scenes for [the character],” one of the other men at the table, who I think was a producer, said.
The three of them talked for a moment, and they found another scene, which I think is an audition scene for a different character. The director walked up to me and handed me the sides.
“He doesn’t talk very much in this scene,” he told me, “but I just want to see you do a little bit more.”
Outwardly, I smiled and thanked him. Inwardly, I had torn off my shirt, Brandi Chastain-style, and I was running laps around the room.
He gave me some background on the relationship, and told me what he thought the character was emotionally experiencing.
“Okay?” he said.
“Yeah, sure.” I nodded.
“Would you like a minute to look at that?” The casting director asked me.
“Yeah, that would be great,” I said.
I walked back out into the waiting room, sat down on this big comfy couch, and read the scene.
Wow.
See, the material is so amazing, it’s so clear and so beautifully crafted, and the direction I got was so clear, so specific and precise . . . all I had to do was open my mouth and hope that I didn’t get in the way of the words.
While I read the scene, two older actors stopped in near the couch where I was sitting. The man wore a tweedy jacket, the woman a big, breezy dress. They both held scripts under their arms and talked enthusiastically about a workshop they were doing. This matters.
I went back into the room.
“Are you ready?” The director asked me. He said it in such a friendly way, so reassuring and so kind . . . I can’t even begin to describe how wonderful it feels (and how rare it is) for a director to make me feel like he really wants me to do well. In fact, is looking forward to it.
“Well,” I shrugged, “We’ll see!”
We laughed as I walked back into the room, and stood next to this metal chair that I’d sat on for my first scene.
I read the second scene. Considering that I’d had about six minutes with the material, and The Actor was fighting with The Writer the whole time I was trying to prepare, I felt that I did quite well. I felt connected to the material. I felt like I belonged in this room.
When I finished, the director said, softly, “That was beautiful, Wil. Thank you for coming in.”
“Thank you,” I said. I handed the sides back to the casting director, and let the door close behind me when I left.
The Actor looked at The Writer. “Did you get that?” He said.
The Writer nodded. “I got all of that,” he said. “Nice watching you work.”
“The feeling is mutual,” The Actor said.
They walked across the parking lot and got into the car.
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Big smile for you Wil! Lovely when it all falls together isn’t it? I don’t think the Writer conflicts with the Actor, I believe he helps. Keeps you from being TOO focused on the audition. Hope the part comes through for you.
To Writer: Beautiful job, I felt as if I was in the room with ya!!
To Actor: Good luck, let us know how it all works out…
Nicole
When I read this,
I was there with you…
as an actor and a writer.
Great entry.
you do a great job with scene and dialogue and that’s half the work . . . fabulous post.
This Writer applauds you!
Can’t say I’ve ever been quite “Brandi Chastain” after one of my nerd presentations, but I kinda sorta know what you’re talking about, Mr. Wheaton (SIR!)
Cool stuff, and congrats on a good audition. 🙂
(Dr.) JSc
Hey Wil. Another cool entry. Man, it’s been fun watching your writing style flourish. I’ve enjoyed this here blog for years so I wanted to say a little thank you. I paid a small tribute to you in my latest podcast. Hope you give it a listen. Thanks again for all the years of fun.
http://media1.libsyn.com/podcasts/cayenne/tekdiff_04_13_05.mp3
Whoa. Multiple personalities. That’s so freaking sweet Wil. Sounds like you had an awesome audition. I hope it turns out like you want it to. And if you get the part, be sure to let us WWdN readers know when you’ll be performing so, if at all possible, we can see the show.
That was a good post Wil. I enjoy reading your site.
I’m about to step into a family soon, and become the stepfather to 4 kids, one of whom is autistic. I love reading your tales of you, Nolan, and Ryan. It encourages me.
Great detail about your audition, Wil. You’ve become such a great writer… scratch that… you’ve been such, and remain so, a great writer.
Good luck on getting the part!
Wil,
Is it just me or is your writing getting even better?
Your descriptives and choices do seem to back up the self-styled nickname (50% of Wil) – ‘The Writer.’
Kevin.
Short-time lurker, first-time poster. Recent blog: close eyes – go away – transportation to audition – in room wit’ ya – seeing metal chair – seeing director’s smile – hearing short, professional dialogue between professionals (give yourself credit) – imagining you running circles in a small room – seeing your multiple personalities agree like two Englishmen having tea – forseeing you with that part.
Thanks for putting us there with you, Wil. If you nail “This Matters” parts with the descriptory flair you expel when writing, may your two personalities have a long and fruitful life. Yowza.
Hey wil
Awsome interview. i hope you get it. that would be so cool. i promise that if you get i will be one of the first to go see it. Also you mentioned something about CSI. id just like to tell you that i watch CSI all the time and is my all time fave show. im really happy that you were in it. it turned the show from great to awsome. Thnak
sorry about my last comment i ment awsome audition
That was beautiful, Wil…..Thank You!!!
P.S. Just last night, as I was dishing up our dinner plates, I started to cut a few tidbits of chicken for my kitty……I had quite a tidy pile set aside for him….before I finally realized that he was no longer with us…and would never again enjoy his favorite treat….chicken was his chocolate.
I cried my heart out.
So,you’re not alone, my friend!
Yeah, so I was writing this scene a while back and Wesley’s hands were doing things that his mind didn’t think were safe because his mouth hadn’t gotten permission, but his mouth was otherwise occupied and she wasn’t slapping at the hands or the face, so the mind considered it to be cool.
3 pages. Small print.
Then I realized that I was basically copying what I had read in your blogs and JAG. I promtly deleted it. It was such a funny scnene too but it was more something you’d write. I didn’t even realize I was writing like that until I read back through it.
I think the best thing that could happen to a writer is when someone is so influenced by the writers work that they unknowingly start copying it…and it turns out good.
Quite the inspiration you are, and very much The Writer.
Hey Wil,
This has nothing to do with anything, but I was re-reading my diary tonight to find out what I was up to a few years back (oftentimes I forget that it is actually a DIARY), and came across this entry about Star Trek: http://haloaskew.diaryland.com/030402_25.html.
Thought you’d get a kick outta these comments:
“I enjoy watching re-runs of Star Trek (the original, TNG, Voyager), but usually use it more as good background TV. Speaking of which, I always thought that Warf’s forehead looked like the top of a Milky Way bar. Anyone else agree with me on this?”
No one replied to that particular post, but I’ve made the same comment to people in person and after I said it they were all “Yeah! His head DOES look like a Milky Way bar!”
Wondered if that thought ever occurred to you?
Reminds me too of that Onion story: “New Star Trek Character Has Completely Different Forehead Wrinkles.”
What IS it about the forehead wrinkles and Star Trek? Is that the ONE PHYSICAL ASPECT that differentiates us from aliens?
But hey, as long as they resemble chocolate, I can handle it.
Wil, that was one of the most insightful views into an actor’s mind that I’ve read in recent memory. It isn’t very often that us ‘plebes’ get an insight into how an actor plies his craft. It was a great gift that you’ve given us, and for that I thank you.
Beautiful. Thank you.
Beautiful.
Wow. That was really interesting. Thanks for sharing. It really helped improve my mood after listening to AAR all day.
I’m really curious, how difficult is it to switch between stage and screen acting?
I watched the director’s commentary for “The Notebook” recently. It was one of the better commentaries I’ve heard in a long time. One of the most interesting bits was the director saying he thinks auditioning actors is insulting to the actors and the director, so he doesn’t do it and just offers parts to actors whose performances he has liked in the past.
*What everyone else said* and great use of the word “cacophony”. You are really maturing as a writer Wil. Thanks for taking us along.
Sharfa
the Shins own! (funny, my last google search was for shin splints, and then this pops up.)
Got a chuckle out of the “Brandi Chastain moment” because I had one of those myself at my place of employment today and now I have a term to describe it.
Sounds like you did a hell of a job today – give that guy that writes about you a pat on the back!
Wil,
That’s a great post. Like what most of the comment said, you’re a great writer. Good luck to the WRITER and of course, to the ACTOR!
Ting
P.S. I’m a WWdN addict now! LOL!!! And I can picture you writing (and maybe directing and acting) a comedy feature film. Will you be interested in making an independent film??? I love watching indie films. I know it doesn’t pay much and not much exposure but would love to see you (again!) in a movie that shows slices of life.
Wow. I think that was my favorite post yet. Thanks for sharing and for inviting us into your world.
BTW, would you mind if I printed off some of your posts and shared them with my classes to show them what I mean when I talk about “voice” in writing? I’m doing my student teaching in a 10th grade classroom and they are not getting what I mean when I tell them to let me see their personalities in their writing. This entry would be a great example. I’ll understand if you’d rather I didn’t, but I think they’d love to read this.
Thanks,
Sonjaag
Wil,
You had some day. If you get the part, I know you will do a good job.
FG
I’m really happy that so many people have enjoyed this blog.
Honestly? It’s one of my favorites.
sonjaag: e-mail me and we’ll talk. I’m honored that you want to use me as a *good* example with your students. 🙂
Great post among great posts! I got a great feel for what was going on in and out of your head the whole time. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you to get the part, but it doesn’t sound like you’ll need much help.
Wonderful entry. There’s something magical about the theatre, and I love those little moments that remind us of that. Totally feeling your “this matters” deal. That’s exactly how I feel about my upcoming project. So congrats on a great audition. And thanks for making me smile.
Wil,
That was a fantastic post. I love your site and have turned alot of people on to your site. They always come back to me and say thanks. Its the least I can do for you. You have given so much to me through your site. You are such an inspiration to me that, I read your work to my boys. I think that while I read it to them, they will absorb it and learn to write very well. Thanks Wil.
P.S. Sorry this is a bit off the subject, but I do not know how to leave you an e-mail. What I mean I know nothin about encripted e-mails. Anyway…I have 50 gmail invites, and do not know enough people to give them to. Can you help?
Awesome story, Wil. Well written, too. Go you with the dual identity.
My first thought – I hate admitting this – was that the castng director didn’t know who you were?
I mean, I know you aren’t on the front of National Enquirer or making $40million a movie (yet) but, cmon….you are better known than that!
gadzooks, great post. not just the events, but the way you so fluently described them. i was right there with you; always a delight for a reader.
i’m of the mind that allowing yourself to be more than one thing makes your other parts better and round it all out to a stronger whole. ActorWil probably helps WriterWil alot, and vice-versa. i know i became a way better painter when i finally broke down and started writing down all the stories that had been buzzing my brain for so long.
best of luck with the audition. i’ll begin with a bit of good vibes for you for a callback, then work from there. ;} and if nothing else [which is no small thing!], it seems to have triggered something very good for you, AW & WW alike. congrats.
That was a great story Wil and brought back memories of the 80’s when I did some work with Mark Rothman on a sitcom pilot. Truthfully, I don’t miss that life at all. I do however admire those that can stick with it and persevere.
explitive!
I like your style, it’s good reading.
But man! this was just excellent … without being pretentious, either.
Whether you’re an Actor or a Writer, you’re still a great storyteller.
I had to sign up for one of these silly comment accounts just to share that.
Wil, excellent post, and I love you, but in this country we spell it “theater”.
Congratulations and a big ‘well done’ hug to my favourite schizophrenics. ;o)
Just a random thought- I know you’ve done lots of film and TV work, but have you had any theatrical training? Do you ever find you have problems with the necessary projection in theatres?
Your blog entries alone should tell you you are ‘a’ writer- even the simplest things are fun and interesting to read. You are yet another excuse for me not to revise. Can I blame you if I fail my finals?
Thank you Wil Wheaton
Thank you!
Ah, it brings back memories.
I’ve never auditioned for anything but stage plays. I do know exactly what you mean about the feeling, though. There’s always (or almost always) a feeling of positive comraderie among people who work in the theater. I am friends with someone here in town who’s worked in theater in New York, and worked as an assistant for a famous producer for a couple of years. We have a connection partially due to the very little theater that I’ve done, despite our lives being almost complete opposites in other ways.
Hope you get the part! If you do, there will probably be about a month of less reading at WWDN during the final weeks of rehearsal. We’ll deal.
Thanks for the cool entry.
Wow. Just… wow. That was an excellent piece of writing.
hi wil,
i’m just gonna write what everyone else has…that was a great post! i hope everythings goes well, it sounds like you really had fun at that audition, which is the main thing i guess!
I just finished JAG, and it was wonderful! I couldn’t put it down! I’m just so happy that things are all going so well at the minute for you. (with a few minor set backs of course, for without them, we wouldn’t appreciate the good things!)
Take care
from Rach
Multiple personalities, indeed. Too ban mine are wife (who sadly doesn’t make an appearance as much as she used to); mother, accountant, personal assistant, chauffer, short-order cook…as long as the lunatic in me stays in check I’ll be okay. 😉
Beautiful entry, Wil. I really can’t add any more than what’s already been said. Again, break a leg.
WOW Wil,
This entry had me as captivated as much as your poker entries do. I don’t know about the Actor, but the Writer is doing just fine.
Writer passes up the middle to the Actor. He shoots, he scores!
You f-ing rock. The best part is, THEY know you rock too. F-ingly so.
What a great post! Every time you describe your acting experiences I feel like I’m living it with you. You are such a great writer. I’ve been so impressed with your blog, that I’ve actually based a character in a screenplay I’m writing on you. Maybe one day I’ll get to see you audition in person – for me. Ha! Thanks for sharing your talents with us.
Wil,
All I can say is “wow”!!! That was by far one of my favorite posts. It was superbly written. It was a wonderful look inside of Wil Wheaton, the Actor and the Writer. Your writing is just wonderful. When I read your posts, I am there with you. Thanks for including all of us in your world. And keep it up!
Sandra
Ditto ditto ditto ditto! This was an amazing piece of writing. It really sucked me into the working actor’s world, a place I’ve never experienced and never will. Your entry really made me feel like I was a “fly on the wall,” so to speak. I’m crossing my fingers for a good outcome for you.
Wil, I think your new “take it or leave it” attitude toward auditions will actually help you get more. The desperate “I need this one” feeling probably harms more than it helps. Good luck with this one.
As always, I enjoy your writing and your acting. If you can manage to wear both hats effectively then please continue!
Wow. I can only echo what some others have said, which is that I felt like I was right there seeing and experiencing it all. You accomplished this without excess, just a spare, clean style. The writer/actor dichotomy–brilliant. One of them has clearly arrived and the other just needs a chance to shine. Bravo, Wil.