released!!!!

in with anger, out with love

As an actor, it’s not rare to not book a job, but it is rare to be shocked at not booking a job.

A couple weeks ago, I sent in an audition for a yuge job. The kind of job that would be the answer to the ongoing, oft-repeated question for the last 17 years that I’ve heard from all my far-flung family members as they look to me pleadingly on my random visits home, squeezing my shoulders, shouting “You should be the Flo of something. Why aren’t you the FLO of anything?!?!”

Of course, the job of a spokeswoman for a brand is the golden goose (financially), but it can also be golden handcuffs (theatrically). Once you’re so heavily branded in the advertising world, attached to a singular client and recognized therein, it can be hard for producers in the TV and film world to see you as anyone else. See: Jake from State Farm, Jan from Toyota….Flo. Though I see Flo was in 31 episodes of The Goldbergs, so maybe she’s doing just fine.

Anyway, this part was - in a way I had never quite felt before commercially - mine. The breakdown basically described me perfectly. It felt RIGHT. I sent in multiple takes of improv’d monologues and takes on the script provided. I used the breakdown and the scripts and taught how to approach an audition exactly like this in my commercial intensive course at my acting studio. I waited, and I received an email a couple weeks later from my agency. The director wanted to have a one-on-one zoom with me, to get to know me better. He was doing this with a small group of people, and the final 4 selected would be flown to screen test with the clients directly.

I used to really actively dislike commercial auditioning. It felt mysterious, its secrets impenetrable. The casting rooms felt so stiff, the way the session directors informed us how to “do the audition” felt so rote and mechanical. It wasn’t until COVID and the proliferation of self-tapes that I finally got a real hang of what I was supposed to do: my own thing. My casting director friend had told me this for years but I found it weirdly difficult to execute in the room across the city with the (always male, always a little bit annoyed) session director (what I felt) micromanaging my performance. At home, in my own space, I could make my auditions whatever I wanted. I could improvise - extensively. I could have fun with the copy. I could make it come alive to something funnier and grander than what was written. And I could get the extraordinary dopamine hit of booking a job and getting paid a handsome salary for a day’s work acting, which was so, so hard to come by theatrically. Commercial work is the bread and butter of an actor - a way to earn a living by ACTING in between TV and film gigs.

A few days later, I had a zoom with the director, which normally would make me feel insanely nervous but a sense of utter zen cloaked me as I clicked on the google meet link. This job was mine: I had nothing to be nervous about. I had re-watched my audition right beforehand: it was funny, engaging, witty, emblematic of what they were hoping to achieve with the brand. We had a delightful conversation about life, kids, the project, where it would film, and how many times per year. It would be huge, financially. He congratulated me because he said they had seen over 4,000 tapes for this role. I choked, requesting him to specify.

“Do you mean 4,000 actors were submitted for the role?”

“No, I mean we actually watched 4,000 auditions for this role. We had to hire extra casting teams just to go through it all. So congratulations, because you really stood out.”

Then he asked if they might need to make a wig for me in case I had plans to change my hair drastically in the next 5-7 years, as that would be how long they saw the character’s development at the very least. I told him that I found the right hairstyle for me when I was 8 years old and pretty much haven’t changed it since. When we wrapped up the call, he said it’s up to the “powers that be,” now, which I know meant the client, who has final say in commercial casting.

Reader, I did not get flown to screen test for this job. I was in the top SIX of FOUR THOUSAND, and then, that’s it. No fanfare, no Dear John Kira letter from the director. No explanation. No payment for my time or my work or my energy. Just a text from my agent informing me I was released from the my hold.

Really????? I texted back. The ____ one????

Yes. So sorry, they responded.

I was in the middle of driving my kids to the Central California Coast for a little spring break getaway when I fielded that text. I was mere hours away from arriving in Santa Cruz, ostensibly to cheerfully ride a rollercoaster with them. I pouted the rest of the drive, my kids oblivious in the back.

I could have sent you to college with that money, I narrowed my eyes at them in the rearview mirror. I’m always a day away from being able to send them to college with “that” money. Or not. Or just, completely not. It’s such an insane up and down, my husband genuinely suggested I attend Gambling Anonymous a couple years ago in a particularly dark downswing from being released from a job.

Oh come ON! I guffawed.

I’m being completely serious, he shrugged, probably while making us some delicious dinner or another. (I’m bad at making delicious dinners, while he is VERY very good.)

Somehow did NOT get a callback for this one?????!!!!!!!!!!!!

ANYWAY. l managed to not cry on the Santa Cruz boardwalk, through a feat of extraordinary, dogged commitment to optimism. I’ll let you know how that all works out.

IN BOOKS: Yes, yes, I inhaled The Stranger, mostly because I got so many texts screaming HAVE YOU READ IT YET??? and am now over here inhaling Yesteryear.

But MOST importantly, I took my dearest, deepest time with my friend Lisa Owens’s forthcoming novel (yeah, that’s right, I got an advance copy (by barking and begging for one). You might remember this substack’s very interview with her from 2023, with her OTHER book that made me laugh and laugh and laugh. Her new book, Natural Disaster, about one absolutely horrific day solo parenting two small children, will be published in July. We can all look forward to another interview with Lisa right in this substack on her publication week coming up soon!

IN TV: Watch this show immediately!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God, I love it so much!!!!! The CHARACTERS my god, what an absolute delight.

Oh, and nearly 45,000 people have watched the blooper reel of one of my auditions for The Pitt season 2. Maybe you’d like to be among them! Aren’t I brave for posting about how hard it is to act with latex gloves?????? See for yourself and let me know in the comments. ◡̈

(Also please press that HEART button below, it helps others find my substack!!!)