The Ed O'Neill Parable

I would like to now tell you the parable of the actor who got the audition right. It’s a perfect illustration of the points in my last blog post. It was told to me as a true story, but I cannot speak to the veracity of its details. I can only say that it teaches a great lesson.

In 1987, the producers of a new show called Married With Children were seeking a lead actor. The role was a boorish father and husband who was at once offensive and lovable. The audition scene began with him entering the house and saying, “I’m home.”

Actors reading for the role were quick to see him as the Archie Bunker “type,” and they aimed for that as they tried to impress the producers and give them what they wanted. They would barge in and declare “I’m home!” in a sort of rough-around-the-edges, king-of-the-castle style. It seemed to be what the script called for, as every actor was making the same choices. But the producers were bored, again and again.

Then Ed O’Neill came in. After initial greetings, they started rolling and called “action.” Ed stepped in, but before saying a word, he took a deep breath and let out a quiet sigh that ended in a defeated slump. He then declared, with a hint of despair, “I’m home.”

In that moment, he had the role. This was something interesting. He wasn’t king of the castle; he was weary and held down. He could be brash and overbearing, but he could also be defeated and self-deprecating. This was not an imitation of a cliché of a character. This was an actor owning the role and making it something personal and new.

Why? Because O’Neill didn’t try to guess what they were looking for or try to fit that image. Instead, he drew on his experiences – the script reminded him of his Uncle Joe – and formed his own take on the role. He didn’t audition, he acted.

This is what the best actors do. Not because it will get them the job, but because it is what makes the job fun. Whether he had booked the role or not, this would still be a great story of an actor getting it right.

Now go and do likewise.

Best. Audition. Advice. Ever.

Prepare yourself. I am about to give the best advice on auditioning that you will receive:

Stop auditioning.

I did, some time ago. My agent might tell you that I go out on auditions, and casting agents frequently see me at auditions, but I have long since given up on auditioning. Instead, I will happily work for free for a few minutes. If we enjoy working together, we can sign contracts and keep going. If not, it was fun and we’ll do it again sometime soon. No more auditions, just short-term pro bono work to see if we’re a good fit.

The difference is far more than semantic. Auditions make me nervous, while work gets me excited. Auditions make me think about what they want; working makes me think about what I do best.

An actor’s greatest poison is the urge to impress. I think I’ll type that again, in boldface: An actor’s greatest poison is the urge to impress. It is ruinous to our craft at every step of the journey, yet it is, to many, an inherent part of this thing we call an audition.

Your agent emails saying you have an audition. You look first at the breakdown, hoping to decipher “what they’re looking for.” You make a guess and read the script with that in mind. You begin to prepare an audition that you hope will impress them and be this thing they are looking for. You go in and do your best to convince them that you are a good actor and right for this role, and then walk out feeling at best ambivalent and at worst like a failure. Sound familiar?

Imagine instead you are given a role without an audition. You don’t need to read a breakdown; you know they want you. You read the script to get all the clues you need, and your preparation process is invigorating as you puzzle out how you will bring your unique personality and skills to fighting for this character’s needs. As you begin to work with director and other actors, you make adjustments, big and small, always excited by the chance to further explore. When the work ends, your only regret is that you have to let go of the exhilaration that comes from practicing your craft.

Why can’t this describe the audition process as well? It can, if you rid yourself of the need to impress. Your job is never to figure out what they want or to convince anyone that you are a good actor.

Look at those actors with you in the waiting room. Do they seem like your competition? They are not. They cannot be. Because they cannot go in and be you playing the role. And that is what you are there to do. To be you, playing.

This is the true picture of what is actually happening. It is impossible to compete with another actor, because two actors can’t play the same character. We may use the same words, but a character doesn’t exist on the page. A character is a combination of the writing, the actor who uses those words as tools, and the observer. The actor’s singular perspective creates a character that can be played by no one else. Many actors have played Hamlet, but, because they were all unique individuals, we cannot say they all played the same character.

And that’s what makes acting fun: solving the puzzle from your own original point of view. Think back on auditions that have gone well. You’ll probably recall that when you first read the script, you were flooded with instincts and ideas. You instantly had your own take on the character, or perhaps you found it after some work. You knew how to own the part, and you took that into the room.

That’s the kind of actor every director and casting director wants to see. If your instincts don’t kick in right away, don’t get sidetracked by thinking about what someone else wants, or what might impress them the most. Stay on the course to find your personal approach to the scene, and let the judgment of others be damned.

I’m often asked how actors deal with all the rejection. I’m not sure, as I haven’t been rejected for a very long time. Sometimes I work for a few minutes, pro bono, and sometimes I work several weeks. I may have successes and frustrations as I work, but for that time, I am the character that only exists while I am playing it. The reasons for not hiring someone else are innumerable, but none of them involve rejecting me, because I have not offered myself up for approval.

You may have heard that auditioning is like constantly going on job interviews. It is not, it is not, it is not. It is like constantly working for free while hoping paid work follows. Job interviewees are hoping to get the job; you need to go in as if you’ve been hired.

This mind set, I know, is no easy trick. Many of the best actors I know have it instinctually. When I speak of this desire to impress, they give me blank or confused stares. But I think most actors have that part in them that seeks approval, and this business certainly can bring it out. Getting past it is a mind trick that takes some practice. But from the first time you try it – the first time you think “I’m going to go to work now” before entering the casting agent’s office – you will know it is right. You will know it feels better. And you will know that it is the key to both success, happiness, and longevity in this business. And so you’ll keep getting better at it, until it’s your second nature.

Become the kind of actor you want to be by forgetting about what kind of actor they may want you to be. Stay true to the story, the character, and, above all, yourself. Stop being nervous, stop trying to impress people, and please, stop auditioning.