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Life is busy, both for Ed and myself, but anytime I email him asking for a lunch date, he always gives me a time within the month, assuming that he is in town (that said, for a good portion of the last year, at the age of 81, he has been touring the country, with his one-man show: an honest, dynamic, 90-minute portrayal of FDR).   This lunch is different though, and he knows it.  This one is… on the record.  However, no real agenda exists.   It’s merely an excuse to capture a fraction of his wisdom in print.

I offer to pick him up at his home in Valley Village – he still drives, but judiciously.  It’s a modest house, in no way indicative of the person who resides inside, that, like it’s inhabitant, contains a rich history of our industry.  Every tabletop has a plethora of awards on it, not for need of self-reassurance, but more due to economy and lack of storage space.  The coffee table, nightstand, mantle, office desk, and more all house Emmy Awards.  A furniture piece in the kitchen contains five Golden Globes, all side-by-side.  Another table contains a hodgepodge of awards from TV Guide to TV Land – all denoting some sort of life achievement.   The rest of the mantle, which, as said, is bookended by Emmys, contains a variety of items that can only be associated with an icon.  A handful of dolls representing the likes of everyone from Lou Grant to Carl Fredricksen (his character in Disney/Pixar’s UP), a photo of him playing Celebrity Jeopardy, his grinning mug gracing the front of a Wheaties cereal box, and a handful of photos with friends over the years – from embracing Betty White in a bear hug to playing games with Richard Dreyfuss.  Everything feels commonplace in its space, but it adds up to an extraordinary life.

Even before Ed voices his choice of restaurant, I know where we are going, for often our elders become creatures of habit. The Eclectic Café in North Hollywood is near his house, boasts affordable meals, and the management always greets him with a hug upon entrance.  I can’t blame him for being a repeat customer.  We sit down and order.   I know this lunch will not be as casual as those previous, because as I tell him, it’s my goal to in some small way, communicate to others how special these outings are to me.  “You’re kind of like my Morrie, ya know?”  He looks like he wants to throw up upon hearing that.  I ignore it, and take it for what it is: an expression from a man who knows his bark is part of his charm.  I know, in the end, the conversation will take its own path, as it always does.

“What was your first role?” I begin.  “I was paid for the first time when I joined a playwright’s theater club after getting out of the army.  It was populated with people from the University of Chicago.”  “Do you have a favorite role?” I ask.  “Favorite role.”  A pause, while he searches through a catalogue of parts that is likely well into the four digits now.  “I loved doing KING HENRY IV PART I.  It was my second year at that theater.  It has some of the most interesting speeches in Shakespeare.  I was also highly praised for my Prospero (from Shakespeare’s THE TEMPEST).”  I chimed in, “I think everyone inherently expects that you would say Lou Grant.” “Yes,” he starts, “but that is much later.  When I think of the totality of Lou Grant, nothing is even close.  Plus the fact that it is my singular achievement, in being awarded Emmys for portraying Lou Grant as both a comic and dramatic character.  I am the only one who got Emmys like that.”

“You are known for being politically active,” I say, punctuating that this interview will cover a variety of ground, as his career is not one to be summed up in sound bites and easy answers.  “Yea, but only since I acquired fame as an actor,” he responds.  “I would contribute when I could and give my name.  After the success of LOU GRANT is when it started to count – to the point that it led to the cancellation of the series.  I agreed to be on a board supporting medical aid in El Salvador with other actors, including Howard Hesseman and Lee Grant.  We went to New York and Washington to make an announcement of its formation and contribution to provide medical aid.  Because of my popularity in playing Lou Grant, I became chief spokesman.  I read the preamble of the group and we opened up to questions (at a press conference).  The second question was from a cable news reporter who asked if I was in favor of free elections in El Salvador.  I said ‘Yes,’ with which he followed, ‘What if those elections yield a communist government.’”  Ed makes a face, indicating he was both frustrated and taken aback.  “This is 1982 – the second year of Reagan’s presidency – and the question was out of left field.  I gave some sort of waffle answer and went on to the next question, and gave a limp answer there too.  The whole time I was thinking, ‘I have been avoiding putting myself on the line, taking a stance, all this time, protecting myself, to come here now and waffle?’  So I went back to the guy who asked the question and said that I wasn’t satisfied with my first answer.  I said that if that is the government the people of El Salvador choose, then so be it.  But in saying that I knew I was dooming myself, and to a degree, my career.  And in all the controversy that followed, that particular statement was never mentioned, but I was immediately regarded as a Communist.” (It’s true that to date, more than once, I have friends or acquaintances ask me if Ed was, in fact, a Communist.  He is not, though I find it intriguing that belief still occupies a space in some people’s mind above his work and craft.)  “I was accused of giving union money to the organization, which is not true.  I was immediately attacked by Charlton Heston for not properly identifying the fact that I was not speaking as President of the Screen Actors Guild at that time.  Nothing less would have satisfied him than me cutting my throat in public.” (For more information, see this November 1982 feature in PEOPLE).

“Did you and Charlton Heston ever talk directly about your issues?”  He pauses.  “During my first meeting as President (of the Screen Actors Guild), he had assembled a group outside.  The board was about to pass the absorption of extras into the union.  He was outside with news cameras, along with some stuntmen and day players who supported his opposition, fearful that extras would take their jobs away.  I went out there to confront the press.  Charlton Heston acted like he owned the guild up until that point.”

“Were other known actors posing problems?  Any other known actors in the opposition?”  “He was representing the elitist actors.  We had an election deciding the fate of the extras.  It was to decide whether to bring in the 1500 extras who didn’t have SAG cards.  Their union had gone belly up.  The union represented them throughout the east, in Hawaii, and so on, and it was only in California and on the west coast that they weren’t represented.  And the vast majority of extras had SAG cards already.  We had two elections and to be fair, we went as far as to dictate that we didn’t need a majority, but a 2/3 plurality.  But we never got it.  Not then.  After I left office though, it became automatic under some other law.”

“Where do you think the balance is regarding an artist/actor’s position in the greater political sphere,” I followed up, knowing that, in my mind, the line is gray and completely dependent on circumstance.  “Do you mean, should he keep his mouth shut?” he asked, reminding me there is no need for formalities – and he is right, sometimes one should simply say what they mean.   “No,” I respond.  “Not that – everyone is entitled to an opinion.  I just don’t ever want to speak with authority in an arena where I lack education.  But at the same time I do believe that individuals have a duty to use their name and energy and talents to raise awareness for issues that aren’t receiving attention.”  He seems pleased that this is now a dialogue.  He responds, “There is no balance.  Nobody takes into consideration that it is perfectly right for John Q. Public to say, “Who the fuck are you to be telling me what to think?’  Because I am a celebrity, people will open their ears when they might not give the time of day to another person.  But you must also take into account that once an actor takes a position, he may well alienate 50% of his viewing public, and that becomes problematic for the producers.  He is in essence endangering his career.  People don’t consider that.  I won seven Emmys and five Golden Globes before I had the courage to become outspoken.”

I wanted to dive into politics fairly early on, knowing it would eliminate the need for any type of proper question-and-answer etiquette.  At the same time, I also wanted to ensure we dedicate time to what is at the heart of Ed, his work and his craft.

“So many actors, even after they ‘make it,’ fear that it won’t continue.  Did you ever fear that it could stop?” “Sure.  I came to California in 1961.  I worked and worked, getting a little more money, some better roles and such, for seven years.  Then the bottom fell through.  I stopped getting roles.  I went through years of fret and worry.  I had three kids.  I feared I’d have to walk away from my house.  Then that third year was the busiest year I had ever had.  I made $50,000.  And the following year was Mary Tyler Moore.  Young actors now can worry about winning and losing, but it’s always been like that.  How do you get over the fear of not knowing where the next job is coming from?  You learn to live with it.” He adds, as an after-thought, knowing that he should offer something a little more tangible.  “Some actors decide to produce as well.  But there are few successful actor/producers.  Tom Hanks is certainly one.  Danny DeVito is another.  People seem to find that little dwarf exciting.”

“Did you always want to be an actor?” “I didn’t think it was something you did.  I was a bourgeois from Kansas City.  Doctor.  Lawyer.  Even Indian Chief.  But actor?  In college I went to a summer school and decided to try out for a play.  T.S. Eliot’s MURDER IN THE CATHEDRAL.  I ended up being the lead.  I was hooked.”

“What are your thoughts on the theater?” “I think it’s the place to start but I don’t care if I ever go back to the theater.  There are as many phonies on stage as there are in front of a camera.  That said, it’s the place to learn.”

“What actor have you most enjoyed working with?” “Mary (Tyler Moore), of course.  Jack Lemmon was wonderful (shared credits include FACE OF A HERO on Broadway, and the Oliver Stone film JFK).  And Steven Weber – I loved working with him (they collaborated on Aaron Sorkin’s STUDIO 60 ON THE SUNSET STRIP).

“Are you a workaholic?  Are you ever going to stop?” “Is that the sign of a workaholic?  What else am I good for?”  I elaborate, “I didn’t know if you would ever reach a time where a 7am call time wasn’t attractive anymore.” “This is probably one of my many gaseous statements but I liken myself to a musical instrument.  When presented with the libretto by an author, I aim to be the best instrument to hit the notes.  I am a specialist.”

“How important is it as an actor to have a career that spans multiple mediums?  At 81, and with your history, you still work in a variety of fields.  Film, TV, theater, video games, music videos, voice-over, etc.”  “You learn from it all.  I feel I can get as great an epiphany from doing a voice-over as I can from being on a stage in front of 7000 people – which is too many anyways.  The ideal theater seats 500.”

“Do you have thoughts on the current state of Hollywood?” “Oh I don’t think we’re progressing at all.  There is more youth-oriented bullshit, more zany comedy – which to me is meaningless.  To expect the appearance of a SOME LIKE IT HOT out of the comedies out there now – not a chance.” I knew that we were entering back into a dialogue, as this topic is one we frequently revisit.  For him to believe that good work no longer exists is, to me, both unbelievable and false, as he himself is still currently a part of great art.  I start, “But you have to admit, there is still a lot of good work being done as well.” “Where?  Like what?” he yells, knowing his answers before I utter my questions.  “Let’s look at the last few years I said. “WINTER’S BONE.  THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT.  For heaven’s sake, what about UP?”  “Yes,” he concedes, “but look at 1939.”  I remind him that believing there is good work now in no way discredits the amazing work that has come before.  I also point out that crap has always existed; we just choose to remember the good work.

We are well into our second hour, so I make the decision to start approaching a finish line of sorts. “What do you want people to remember you for?  What do you want your legacy to be?” He grunts. “You do know you will have one, right?” I kind of sheepishly respond.  “I don’t know anything.  That’s too awesome to assume.”  I tell him that it is with the greatest confidence that I know his career is one that will be perpetually referenced and remembered. “Do you want to be remembered for acting?”  He softens, “I look at Kirk Douglas.  I look at what that son-of-a-bitch has put away in his life.  Lonely are the brave.  He has a lust for life.”

“Who do you still want to work with?” Without missing a beat, he gives his list, “Edward Norton.  Roberto DeNiro.  I would like to see what Philip Seymour Hoffman is like in combat.  Harrison Ford.  I think he could hold his own with me.”

“Do you have a method?” “It’s all innate.  If necessary I will try to change the dialogue if it doesn’t reflect the feeling.  But that’s with inferior writers.  Note that there are also writers who should kill you if you try to change their words.   What I was taught is that it is all about ‘doings.’ Every utterance by you is done to affect somebody.  Be it God.  Or your inner being.  To convince yourself.  To convince your friend.  Active verbs.  Convince.  Demonstrate.  Question.”

“Are you happy?” I question.  As suspected, he answers with an emphatic no.  For even if Ed was happy, I would still expect him to say no.  “Why aren’t you happy?” I follow up.  “Have you looked around you?  The state of our nation?  The state of our world?  We live in a jungle.  You are talking about divorcing our lives from what’s around us.  Maybe someone successful during the Depression could do that.  But I doubt it.  They turned their back on the starving and the unemployed.  I can’t do that.”

I remind him that out of thousands and thousands of actors in the world, his career is in the top 1%.  If he is not happy, with all the opportunities and recognition he has received, what hope does the rest of the acting community have? “That’s their problem,” he laughs. He continues, seriously, “The point is, the work is the glory.  It’s not that there are not rewards, but to be able to have a moment in front of a camera, or on a stage, where you hear the pin drop, that’s what we’re all here for.  Acting is a job like any other, in that, when you do it well, that’s where the joy is.  I think I am being honest.  Yes.  There is the selfish part that is being watched by thousands or millions, and when that leads to money, it’s all well and good.  But it’s like when a tree falls in the forest, you know?  It’s the same as having that moment.  Having that moment in your mind and in your heart – that is when the solace comes.  You will always have that moment.”

We get ready to leave the restaurant.  They inform us that our bill has been taken care of by the joint’s owner.  I know this can’t be completely foreign to Ed, but he still acts shocked and tries to fight it.  Part of his rough exterior undoubtedly comes from the fact that he is continually showered with praise and lifted up so high.  He has to somehow offset it, and indicate that it hasn’t gone to his head.

Ed stops for a second, his expression indicating he wants to end today’s lunch on a challenge rather than a mere statement. “I fear for all art.  There is a wonderful quote from Brecht: ‘Art is not a mirror held up to society, but a hammer with which to shape it.’  Is Tony Kushner our last hammer?” he asks.  “So if you fear for art,” I say, “is it then up to artists to save it?”

“Yes,” he says, “We have to find the artist who will do that.”

Andrew and Ed, on set.

Andrew Carlberg is an independent film and theater producer, currently working for Executive Producer Laurie Zaks on the hit ABC series CASTLE.  He also founded and chairs The 4th Wall, a theater initiative in partnership with The Geffen Playhouse.  Theater: THE MERCY SEAT (L.A. Premiere; VS Theatre at The Ford); WISH I HAD A SYLVIA PLATH (West Coast Premiere; Rogue Machine at The Lounge); 110 STORIES (L.A. Premiere at The Geffen Playhouse); DAVID DEAN BOTTRELL MAKES LOVE (World Premiere; Comedy Central Stage and Rogue Machine).  Film: AFTER-SCHOOL SPECIAL (written by Neil LaBute; starring Sarah Paulson and Wes Bentley; World Premiere: Palm Springs Int’l ShortFest) and I HAVE IT (written by Bekah Brunstetter; starring Larisa Oleynik and Devon Gummersall; World Premiere: Rhode Island Int’l Film Festival).  Andrew also has a handful of music videos to his credit.  For more information, visit www.westernskiesproductions.com.

The following is a chapter from his free ebook New Thoughts for Actors. He teaches regular workshops in Los Angeles (and periodically in New York) and coaches privately. Email info@jackplotnick.com to get on the mailing list for his weekly $20 drop-in cold reading workshops and monthly $5 Lecture for Charity.

ACTING “STRAIGHT”

I received an email from an actor who had been reading my website, and had a specific concern he wanted to share with me:

Dear Jack,

There is an issue I have been constantly dealing with, and I think it is the reason I have held myself back all these years.

Every time I get an audition, it’s usually to play a straight, ‘total guy’. I know I’m not a raging queen but I go back to all the teasing from school, all the ‘faggot’ calling and it actually makes me think I can never get parts because I am gay and straight guys have it so easy.

This is a major issue. I guess I just wanted to know if you had felt that and if so how you deal with it.

My response was similar to the following:

As a gay man, I also struggled with that exact issue.

There was a time, not long after I had graduated college, when I felt I had a terrible secret.

And that secret was that I wasn’t really a “MAN”.

(Or at least not the kind of “man” I thought I was supposed to be.)

When I would perform, I was afraid that everyone could see my secret, and I let this issue negatively affect my performances.

Then, one day, it just hit me…

I AM a man.

I just simply am.

I don’t have to prove it, or “Act” it.

It just is.

By definition, I am a man.

My insecure ego was creating this self-doubt.  It was an illusion.

Are all men super-macho?

No.

My god, if Andy Dick can portray a straight man on “Newsradio” then certainly you or I can.

Not all straight men act “butch”.

Do straight men cross their legs?

Hell yeah!

Do straight men get emotional?

Hell yeah!

Stop cutting out your self for fear that you are not right.

If you look at a list of the top TV shows of all time, there are plenty of popular and successful actors that are far from macho: Alan Alda, Bob Newhart, Mathew Perry, Jerry Seinfeld, Don Knotts, Kelsey Grammer, Patrick Stewart, Tony Randell, Larry Hagman…

None of these men had any problem being seen as a straight leading man.

Why do we want to focus on the few tough-guy characters?  Remember, for every Captain Kirk, there is a Mr. Spock standing right there alongside him.

And even William Shatner isn’t intrinsically a tough guy.  He often plays very sweet, endearing roles.

Speaking of top TV shows, look at Henry Winkler.  He was hardly the actor you’d first imagine to play the womanizing tough-guy “The Fonz”:

From Wikipedia.org:

An interesting note about his character on ‘Happy Days’ was that director/producer Garry Marshall originally had in mind a completely opposite physical presence.  Marshall sought to cast an Italian model-type male in the role of Fonzie.  However, when Winkler, a Jewish Yale MFA student interpreted the role in auditions, Marshall immediately snapped him up, smelling success. Winkler’s character gradually became the focus of the show as time passed, a testament to Winkler’s acting and Marshall’s foresight.

You can only be who you are.

If they want someone with an innate energy that is tough and hyper-masculine, they will hire that guy.

However, as was the case with “The Fonz”, the more interesting choice was the less “on the nose” choice.

I heard a story, that for his HAPPY DAYS audition, Henry was merely doing an impression of Sylvester Stallone, who he had just worked with in LORDS OF FLATBUSH.

So, the tough inner life as funneled through a sensitive actor was just what the role needed.

So don’t talk yourself out of roles!

There is a secret to gays portraying straight roles:

If you try to prove you are straight, YOU WILL COME OFF AS GAY-

(- or at least stiff and stilted as though you are hiding something: i.e., that you are gay!)

However, if you don’t care, and don’t get involved in being anything but who you are, THEN YOU WILL COME OFF AS STRAIGHT.

We are all the same really. All humans share the exact same integral characteristics.

So if you honestly play the circumstances of the scene, you will come off as straight as the character is.

However, if you deny a part of yourself, and strictly control and monitor your behavior, then you will not be able to play the scene.  Instead, you will be delivering some lifeless idea of the character.

You are your own tool to make your art.  If you are not using your tool, then there is no human being inhabiting the role.  The scene will be dead.

Why do we focus on the few hyper-masculine images out there?

Our ego wants to keep us in a place where we feel we are not “enough”.

Just accept that you will never be Vin Diesel.  So what?!  No one expects you to be!

Besides, that macho thing that you wish you could be is so fucking limiting.  Those people don’t get many jobs.

On the other hand, think of your favorite film actors;  Philip Seymour Hoffman, Dustin Hoffman, Tobey Maguire, Gene Wilder, Ralph Fiennes, Jeremy Irons, Jason Schwartzman, Kevin Kline, Mathew Broderick, Jake Gyllenhaal, Bill Murray, Johnny Depp, Owen Wilson, Richard Dreyfuss, etc. etc.

THEY certainly aren’t putting on some bullshit macho crap.

That macho behavior crap is learned and acted by the people who do it.  It’s not real for ANYONE. No one comes out of the womb and acts like that. They see people do it, and they imitate it.

So, it’s not even REAL to begin with.

You are so much more interesting than that.

You have warmth and sensitivity. Why would you want to deny or hide that?!

A great tool to rid yourself of this issue is affirmations:

I release and destroy my need to be “masculine”.

I release and destroy my need to be an “Actor” – I’m just here to be me and have fun.

Those kids from your childhood may have called you “faggot”, but they’re gone now.

So, whose voice is that you’re hearing in your head, still calling you “faggy”?

It’s YOU!

They may have given you the baton, but you are the one who is still running with it.

Read the Finding Your Inner Child chapter on my website, and start treating your inner child with the love and acceptance he should’ve been given from the beginning.

He wants to shine.

The actor who had originally written to me responded to my thoughts as follows:

You are so right, I have always tried to “act” like a straight guy, and was so nervous that someone would ask about my girlfriend or wife, that I was not “being” the goofy, sweet, caring, funny person I am.

I always hold back, for fear of being found out as being gay, and therefore not as valuable as a “real” straight guy.

Outrageous! I know, I so see it!

I don’t know many actors who are gay and do great work. So I always wondered what it was I was or wasn’t doing right. Thank you for being there and open to talking to me about all of this. I am really very excited about this ‘new’ chapter or step for myself.

A side note:

With so many great actors coming out as gay lately, and still playing straight parts, there are plenty of terrific role models; Neil Patrick Harris, T.R Knight, Ian McKellen, Rupert Everett, Robert Gant, Chad Allen…

Read part 1 of the interview series here.

When did your interest in building online communities begin?  For actors that are overwhelmed by social media, do you have any advice on how to navigate it?

Eesh, this answer could be a separate article all its own. Ha! I’ve probably always been a community builder. The Internet just came along as a great place to help that along at the right time. Back Stage launched their message boards while I was a columnist there and I was the geek leader, for sure, so they gave me a “Casting Qs” forum and I moderated it, for anyone with follow-up questions about my weekly articles. I had already been a regular poster at Wolfesden (R.I.P. 2004) since 1999, and a member of e-Groups (which later became Yahoo Groups) since moving back to Los Angeles in 1998. I brought together a group of fellow actors who wanted to rehearse or run lines or work out with one another pretty much right after moving here. I had just come out of grad school, where using online forums to connect between in-person meetings was just part of the deal. It was a natural progression, really. Creating the Yahoo Group for Hollywood Happy Hour was a bigger deal than I ever thought it would be, at the time. Every week, I’m amazed at the support, encouragement, and information that flows through that mailing list.

I know that social networking in its current form can be overwhelming. As much of an “early adopter” as I am, for technology, I’m also very much a “lurk then lead” type too. I’ll wait, watch, observe the culture, eventually join, and then BAM! I’ll be running the place. But I think I see too many eager (and well-meaning) actors jump in and start flailing—and publicly—without realizing the damage they may be doing to their industry relationships. There’s this one poor dude who has tweeted at me no fewer than 37 times (I blocked him once he got up there, in frequency) to spam out the link to his demo reel. Once I blocked him, he contacted me through LinkedIn. He posted to my Facebook fan page. He sent email to all of the email addresses he could find on me (and I have a lot). Do I now know his name? You betcha. And I will never be an inroad for him to get access to a producer or director whose contact information he could also abuse. All he has taught me is that he is not to be trusted behind a keyboard. And if you can’t be trusted with a computer, I sure as shit can’t trust you in a role opposite an Oscar, Emmy, or Tony winner who has agreed to do a gritty indie I’m casting.

No, I have never watched his reel. His talent is irrelevant, because his professionalism is non-existent. Too risky.

Why and how are things like twitter and facebook useful for actors?  Do you have any examples of actors who you think use those tools exceptionally well?

I’ve been saying for about a year now that I think Facebook will be done by 2012. It’s going the way of MySpace (and I’m not looking for debate on this). While some have said Tumblr would be its replacement, I’m not seeing that yet. I think Twitter will have a greater lifespan because of its non-forced-reciprocity. Because people can just be on-brand and share quick blasts from their various devices without having to endure the blather of folks who may find them fascinating, but not so much vice-versa, the Twitter micro-blogging format has staying power. Add “likes” (not just “favorites”) to the options, and we’re golden. Facebook—while amazing and certainly life-changing for many of its users—has led to social networking fatigue among many folks (including me) and as I see ridiculous “like” campaigns springing up, I know we’ve jumped the shark on its usefulness. At this point, we are all Zuckerberg’s data (not his customers).

Using the existing tools well means being on-brand with every status update, with every tweet: Coming up with a balance of actor news and real-life shares that help us truly “get” you and feel more connected to one another, even before we’ve met (or remind us of the existing connectedness, should we already know one another). Being responsive to a fanbase is essential, of course. But berating people into being your fanbase isn’t very cool. I’m not a huge fan of being overly promotional. I am, however, a fan of living authentically and thanking people who respond to that. Being engaged is great. And that takes time.

Actors need to be Googleable. They need to have their demo reel, headshots, resumé, and contact information totally out there, so we can bump into them when we need to find them, without having to click through pages of crap to get to them. We also shouldn’t have to—daily—unsubscribe from actor email blasts. It’s gross how many actors just sign us right on up, without asking, before sending out these “here’s what’s new in my career” e-blasts. They may have decided it’s harmless, because if we don’t want the emails, we just delete or hit unsubscribe. But what they’re not thinking through is the residual effect that has on our impression of them. If—when I see your headshot in an Actors Access submission—my reaction is, “Ooh! Spammer!” that’s not going to help you get called in. As for folks who are doing it right? The ones who email once and say, “Hey, Bon. I read for you on that industrial last month. I have a quarterly e-blast. May I add your email address to my list?” I’m actually more likely to opt in for that one, because of how outlandish the courtesy is. (And isn’t that a shame? Courtesy shouldn’t be outlandish.)

I sometimes worry that the group coming up behind me seems so much more focused on building an audience than they are on being great actors.  Sometimes Claire and I want to bang our heads on the wall and yell, “Get off twitter and go back to acting class!  Go rehearse a play!”  Do you worry about that or are we just being out of touch?

Ooh, girl! You’ve so hit a hot-button issue, here. Again, this one could be another article on its own. Ha! This goes back to the “like” campaigns. I received an email for Your Turn in my column a bit ago about someone who actually suggested that actors list their social networking stats (number of followers, fans, etc.) on their resumés. My exact response? “That right there is some BULLSHIT.” It’s gross. I can’t even begin to explain how gross I think it is. Let’s just leave it at that.

Is all of this busy work happening at the sacrifice of acting technique? Craft classes? Actual work on the work? Wow, I hope not! Let’s hope it’s happening at the sacrifice of chronic drug-taking or some other really bad habit.

All kidding aside, I don’t know that I’ve seen any sort of decline in acting class attendance lately. In fact, I’m seeing more acting coaches branch off from their “parent” studios to create their own schools these days. So, let’s hope that classes are full, the craft is still alive and well, and all this social networking is just obsessive busy work that some folks have taken to extremes. There’s always some silly Actor Mind Taffy-like activity taking actors’ attention; it’s just not usually stuff that other actors get to witness. Let’s say this falls in the category of the mass mailings to everyone in every guidebook sold at Samuel French. So, somewhere, someone has always been doing needless spaghetti slinging to try and get noticed, but observers wouldn’t see it. Now that it’s a social networking thing, y’all see it. You keep going on with your craft, ladies. The rest is just noise. A different bad, not-quite-tuned-in radio station, but the same noise.

Self Management for Actors is such an important idea – how did that book come about?  Can you share one idea from it with our readers?

I so love that li’l book. I really do. Basically, Self-Management for Actors started out as a collection of all the emails I had answered, in my first years of writing “Casting Qs” for Back Stage. Because I had interviewed hundreds of casting directors, it’s like I became the ad-hoc expert on trends in casting (because, back in those days, very few casting directors were actually going to speaking engagements, blogging, posting on message boards, or revealing anything about what their world was like, outside of interviews like the ones I was doing).

I was bombarded with emails from actors about everything. And I would always do my best to help. If I didn’t know the answer, I would research and find an answer. I’d connect with anyone who would talk with me—from SAG reps to TMA board members to city attorneys to child actor activist reps to members of the ATA to working actors to studio execs to top casting directors to trade publication journalists—and get answers. And then the book was born. It was the road map I would have wanted, back when I was an actor. It was all the stuff I sucked at, as an actor. And it’s what—for many talented actors—makes the difference between being “just talented” and being “castable.”

I’m thrilled that I was smart enough (or enough of a packrat, or both) to bring all of that great information together. I also never lose a contact. So, anyone who ever said something better—at a talk at SAG, during a panel discussion for which I was moderating, on a message board—I contacted and asked to contribute an essay to the book. I knew I didn’t want mine to be the book’s only voice. I’m very grateful for the contributions from so many people in this wonderful industry, filling that book. I’m very lucky that so many wonderful friends and colleagues have found the book worth contributing to, recommending, even buying in bulk and then donating to current students at their alma maters.

The overarching premise is that actors have far more control over their careers than they think they do. This town is designed to keep actors feeling powerless and small. My book is an attempt to say, “Hell no. That’s not true. Stop buying it just because that’s what they’re selling. THEY need you to feel small because if you realized how big you really are, THEY wouldn’t be in control.” And frankly, they’re not. We’re watching a revolution of self-producing happen. We’re in the midst of a major shift in the way people behave in this industry. Casting directors, agents, managers, producers, directors, publicists, showrunners, writers, development execs… they’re all sharing behind-the-scenes peeks into their worlds, when ten years ago, almost no one was (and those of us who did were ridiculed for doing so). And now, actors are putting together their own resource maps and sharing them with one another. When I got started, actors were rarely sharing tips with one another. If you could find one actor to mentor you, you were lucky. Twenty years ago, The Actors’ Network began building upon that model. Today, thousands of actors are creating resources for one another, sharing their journeys with one another, supporting and encouraging one another—and gleefully so. There’s very little of the old, “I had to work hard for it, so you have to figure it out like I did,” attitude in this generation.

Outstanding. That Self-Management for Actors has added to that generational evolution? Awesome. Lucky me.

I have this column of yours bookmarked because of all the fantastic practical advice it contains.  Which columns of yours do you consider ‘must reads’?

Ah, yes. The intro to the “Get Critiqued!” series. Lots of good links in that one. Thanks. I think one of the most valuable parts of “The Actors Voice” is that Showfax keeps everything free and searchable, so I can do those links back to previous columns, which means you can dig as deep as you’d like on any particular subject.

For me, the “must reads” are the ones I email out the most (and yes, I do answer my email, though it is getting harder to do so in a timely fashion, due to high volume). Those would be: I Think I Want To Be an Actor (for the just-starting-out type), Just Get Better (for the filled-with-excuses type), Help Us Help You (for the about-to-reach-out-to-anyone-for-help type), How To Network Badly (for the networking-phobic type), The CD Workshop Issue (for anyone wondering what actually changed when AB 1319 went into law, January 2010), Conspiracy of Yes (for anyone who wants to enjoy how far you’ve come every time you get anywhere close to a booking), and Get Ready for LA (for the moving-to-LA-soon type).  Also Agent-Free Auditioning. I get a lot of email about that one, from actors trying to go it on their own before they’re repped (and sometimes after).

I have personal favorites too, but those are probably the ones I hear the most about. I think I write about the same themes many times over (of course) and just come at the information from different directions, which helps folks who may not have “heard it” the first or second time. So, while the resource and tools columns are very popular, the ones on mindset and getting out of your own way are my faves.

Keep creating!

Bonnie, as you can see, is a very busy woman!  We were so thrilled she took the time to answer our questions.

You were one of the first (if not the first) providing advice and information to actors online.  How did your column, The Actors Voice, begin?

I had been writing for Back Stage (then called Back Stage West) for several years. I interviewed several hundred casting directors, and that’s how I ultimately got into casting—through a relationship created out of one of the interviews I had conducted. I’d been in love with the good folks at Breakdown Services for years by then, and they had used me as a moderator for many panels featuring casting directors, even while I was writing for Back Stage. About a year after I left Back Stage and after a series of meetings about a then-emerging tool called Actors Access, we started talking about having me write a weekly column for the site. Of course, I had been missing my weekly ritual of writing for actors, so I was thrilled to have a new home. Gary Marsh and Bob Brody gave me tons of room to play, and it’s been ridiculously fun to write every week.

How do your different roles – casting director, author, producer – work together?  Do they ever conflict?  Do you have any techniques for others that wear many hats for how to juggle it all?

I have to say, I’m very lucky for the timing, here. It’s a lot like Outliers, in that being born at the right place in the right era with the right skills can offer a huge advantage. I’m not saying I have that, because I’ve been a few years too early for comfort in this industry, sometimes, but I do have the great fortune of maybe looking like a trendsetter, simply because I’ve chosen to do something that wasn’t very popular… and then it got popular. Case in point: self-publishing my books. Back in 2002, when we published Casting Qs (based on my first hundred interviews for Back Stage), self-publishing was seen as a horrific thing. They called it “vanity press” and said we’d never get our books taken seriously at colleges and universities (which was, of course, a goal for us). Today, Self-Management for Actors is in its third edition (second printing) and on required reading lists at schools all over the country. And self-producing is not only hot now, it’s essential. Artists have to be hyphenates today.

“Hyphenate” used to be a dirty word. Now it’s not. But the key is being good at everything. Being only okay at a bunch of different things just makes you a flake. You have to be—especially in this town—exceptionally good at a few things to be taken seriously. And you have to be able to compartmentalize. You can’t flit around and be in “producer brain” when it’s time to write another book. And you can’t be in “casting mode” when you’re hiring your crew. A business partner friend of mine said just recently in a meeting—as I stopped myself on one thought, said, “Hang onto that,” and went into another one, and then came back to the original one as if taking the pause button off—”You’re like an air traffic control tower, in these meetings.” That focus, that segregation of issues, that ability to keep the chaos in order so that you can deal with only the most blazing fires first is key to juggling the hyphenate lifestyle. Not everyone’s brain is built for it.

For the past year or so, I’ve actually been transitioning out of casting (you’re getting a scoop, here) and I’m almost only ever casting projects I’m also producing. It is now taking a very special script (and/or a very special relationship with the producer or director) to woo me to “just cast” anymore. When we launched Cricket Feet, Inc., in 2002, we said our ten-year goal was to be producing. We have been producing now for a couple of years. I really like producing. I’m very good at it. I’m also good at casting—especially on the micro-budget indies and super-fun webseries—but I’m finding myself less interested in casting projects that I’m not also so passionate about that I take on a role as producer. So, to bottom-line the answer for you: Be in the moment. Deal with the most exciting and urgent things first. Rest when your body tells you that you should. Surround yourself with amazing people. Then, whatever amount of balls you’re juggling feels easy—or at least fun—to handle.

How did you get into casting?  Are there particular kinds of projects that you like to cast the most?

These days, I’m loving casting the ones I’m producing, of course. Webseries are fun because the scripts are coming to me at about the length of hour-long pilots for TV, but I’m given as much time as I would usually get for a low-budget feature film. That’s the best of both worlds, really. And I’m finding that I’m able to get some pretty fantastic people attached (folks you would never expect are interested in doing web-based work) because of where we are, in terms of the respect that web-based productions are now getting. I still love low-budget indies (I hover around the $2M mark) because that’s where my heart started, in casting. I had worked at the Sundance Institute in 2001 and 2002, so when I learned I loved casting, I knew I had to get into indie film.

My start was actually in reality TV for FOX. I had interviewed Katy Wallin (along with several hundred other CDs, of course) and she asked me to come work for her as casting coordinator on a new show. She ended up hiring me on a total of four shows (three as casting coordinator for FOX, one as full casting director for E!) and between each set of shows, I would take six weeks off and cast an indie film on my own. I was impatient. Didn’t want to work my way up through TV. Had film relationships… used ‘em. In 2007, I cast my first web-based project. Most recently for the web, I cast a time-travel short for Comedy Central’s Atom.com, a series of vids for Lie To Me doctor Paul Ekman, and the mega-hit zombie-killing Bite Me (the first-ever live-action series from mega-web distributor Machinima), which is now being shopped to television for its second season.

Should an actor prepare differently for indie feature auditions than they do for other kinds of work?

I think for all auditions, actors should be as prepared as they can be. And that doesn’t just mean the standard “learn your lines” type stuff. As anyone who has read my columns or books knows, I’m a research junkie. I can always tell the difference between an actor who has downloaded the entire script, really thought about who this character is and what world he or she inhabits, and then made some very specific choices based on those observations—even if they’re wrong—and the actor who grabs the sides, spends ten minutes with them, figures, “I’ve got this,” and wings it.

That’s not to say that the less-prepared actor can’t book it, but when you have so little in your control anyway, isn’t it best to have put at least as much as is within your control in the bank? Another part of that research, of course, is about the tone of the project. If it’s TV (unless it’s a pilot—and even then, you can track the previous work of the major players involved), you should watch episodes to get the tone of the space and time and world these characters inhabit. And don’t just watch the series regulars. Watch the characters in the roles the level at which you’re auditioning (co-star, guest star, non-celeb recurring). How do they serve each week’s story?

This is a little tougher with film, of course, unless it’s a franchise. But you can still get hip to what the filmmaker’s voice is, usually. And tracking previous collaborations, you can get to know whose work consistently turns them on, and that should help inform your choices (both for submitting and when auditioning). Research, research, research. Almost every piece of advice I ever give is rooted in research. And in having a healthy mindset. Because all the research in the world won’t matter if your head’s in the wrong place. Notice I haven’t mentioned talent. That’s a given. We expect you to be brilliantly talented. Because you are, right?

What are some of the ways that the industry has changed during your time working in it?  Where do you see it going?

Wow. Seeing as my first professional acting gig was in 1977, I’m gonna have a tough time pinning that answer down. Actually, maybe by having such a long-haul view of the industry, I could state it simply: There’s more access now. Before, there was no breakdown going out in front of the actors. You had to join SAG, get an agent, and hope the agent got you and believed in you enough to pitch you, get you into the room, and then your talent could take it from there. Now, the amount of work to which an actor has access—direct access—is astounding. And it’s not just “crappy low-budget nonunion work,” as the story is often told. There’s all sorts of work—and work being created by actors themselves—that is winning Emmys and getting distribution and that’s just incredibly empowering.

I see us shifting not only out of the studio system we were in long ago, but out of the era of media conglomerate as the owner of all: the creation, the production, the distribution. We’re witnessing a lovely evolution of mini-studios, mini-distribution entities, players that aren’t monopolies entering the field of distribution quietly while the huge corporations create vertically-integrated distribution structures, attempting to keep their products in front of people across as many platforms as technology will support. It’s the mini-studios that are the end result of the types of communities we’ve been building for years, here. This goes back to the Outliers model on which I created a class for hyphenates working on the Self-Management for Actors principles: Anywhere you can gather together a group of people who will co-conspire for the group’s collective success, you can witness a tier jump faster and farther than would ever happen for any of its members, on their own.

It’s an exciting time, and right now there’s more power in being “a little guy” who’s a member of an exciting creative community than there has ever been.

Photo by Holloway Pictures

Ms. Joy,

I want to do something fun and different, particularly different for me. I’ve been toying around with the idea of starting my own Twitter chat. I’ve participated in a ton of them and I’ve seen how it helped the owner’s Twitter following and reputation grow. I think that doing one myself will really help my branding, respect, and word of mouth.

The only thing is I have no idea what to do or how to do it. I’m also not sure what’s off limits to use as a topic. I don’t want to be boring and I don’t want to be a repeat. Can you give me some ideas of how to brand and publicize my Twitter chat successfully?

-Feeling Chatty

Dear Feeling Chatty,

I love Twitter chats! They’re a great way to share information, engage the Twitter community, gather fans and followers, sell products (indirectly) and just have fun.

I’ve helped market and grow Twitter chats and I participate in Kellye Crane’s #solopr whenever I can because I’m inspired by the topics. However, I’ve never started a Twitter chat myself because it is a true labor of love. Before you go down this road, make sure you have time to devote to it. The last thing you want is to start cancelling chats or letting your topic collect a thick layer of dust. With that in mind, branding and publicizing your chat boils down to topic, time, technique, and talking about it.

You can’t start from where you are until you know where that is, so, although picking your topic can seem banal, it’s actually fundamental. If you’re aiming for the chat to increase your brand awareness, then your topic needs to make sense for your brand and adhere to your key messages.  If you keep your chat close to your brand’s core, you will better resist the temptation to let the chat be all things to everyone just so it will grow. Be on brand and on topic and grow a true community from there.

Your chat is going to be identified by a hashtag [ # ] and this needs to be catchy as well as memorable. Since tweets can only be 140 characters, I suggest picking a chat name that is 6-9 characters including the hashtag. This way, tagging won’t eat up too much of anyone’s tweet.

Once you have your topic and fabulous name realized, you need to decide when your chat will take place. Again, be realistic about how much time you can give this. The only rule with time is to be consistent. If you want to do every Tuesday at 2PM EST, then let it be that. If you know you only have the first Tuesday of every month, then you better pick that time slot.

Your chat can’t grow if folks don’t know when to find you. Recall every time a network has messed with the timeslot of your favorite show- it will feel just like that to your tweeps if you let them down with the schedule.

The next important step is to determine your technique or chat style. You can keep it free flowing and informal where everyone jumps in suggesting topics, you can be structured with a Q & A style or, you can even bring in special guests who have deeper insight of the topic. Again, the only rule is to stay consistent so that people know the rules.

After you get all the details out of the way, you can move on to the publicity. You have to talk about the chat and give it life. Make a webpage just for the chat that explains what it is or add the details to your website. Let all of your contacts on all your social networks know about it and invite them to join in. List the details in your email signature and on your business cards. Seek and search for strangers on Twitter who might find interest in your topic and invite them to join in.

Don’t stop, yet. List your information in this free Google Twitter chat spreadsheet that anyone can access as long as they have the link. Be friendly to newbies- who might be overwhelmed- by retweeting what they contribute or giving them a personal shoutout after the chat. Let all your chatters know that everyone’s insight is valuable.

By linking your topic to your brand, keeping a reliable schedule and format, and spreading the word in fun, friendly ways you can grow a Twitter chat that will complement your overall brand goals. Plus, you’ll meet some amazing folks along the way. It doesn’t get much better than that.

Keep rising!
Joy

If you have a publicity or PR-related question to ask Joy, send it to joy@doitinpublic.com with the subject “Ask Joy”.

We were deep into minute 7 of my allotted 10 with Mr. Film Publicist and Ms. Associate Film Publicist at the South by Southwest Film Festival mentor sessions. Ms. Associate took the bull by the horns and reeled off the names of three LA production companies she’d thought would be good fits for the project (an interactive online game about acting) I’d been describing to them.

She then turned to her boss and said, “Her next step is a deck, right?”

“Oh, yes, definitely,” said Mr. Boss. “Ok, so you need a deck…”

I had a deck once. I was 5. My mother planted geraniums on it. Minute 8. Geraniums? What? How would geraniums get my project done? I looked to Mr. Publicist. I looked to Ms. Associate. I searched their kind faces. They searched mine. Finally, I surrendered.

“What’s a deck?” I asked.

One of the kick-assest things – of many – about my trip to South By Southwest were these rushed mini-meetings – the film festival’s ‘mentor sessions’. About a week before heading to Texas, I got an email saying that as a holder of a film badge I could sign up for 10-minute one-on-one meetings with the industry pros for each of the first four days of the festival.

And so there I found myself, a week later, sitting across a top film publicist and his associate, and (very quickly) pitching the acting game/project that takes players through creating the character of themselves (‘self’), a character based on their desires for their identity (‘doppelganger’) and then a narrative that contains both. Some people got it, some people didn’t, and I was feeling very lucky that Mr. Publicist and Ms. Associate sounded like they fell in the former camp.

“Oooh, a deck is a Power Point,” said Mr. Publicist, soothingly. “About the project. And for this one it has to be visually amazing – pictures of people playing, their ‘doppelgangers,’ everything. And it can be!”

“And then call the business affairs departments of those companies and get meetings!” ordered Ms. Associate as a volunteer ushered in the next mentee.

Ten minutes worth the price of admission! Ten minutes that revealed destination, procedure, possibility! Ten minutes of people I respect telling me that Power Point is THE KEY TO MY PROFESSIONAL SELF-ACTUALIZATION?!

***

And so here I sit at my kitchen table attempting to squeeze my grand vision – a year of work, more video than I like to admit, essays revealing my deepest thoughts and feelings about acting and its ability to affect social change – into 10 pages of the one Microsoft program I’d refused to learn in my myriad office jobs because doing so would have meant that The Day Job Terrorists had won.

But it’s not the ins and outs of the program that’s now the source of my anxiety. If only. Instead, I’m at a frustrating cross roads I’ve visited before when writing about the work. For my life in acting this has meant filling out grant applications, applying for fellowships, and, uh, writing blog posts about projects. But even for more traditional ‘acting-for-hire’ careers, writing skills are more and more valuable as we’re asked to take our marketing into our own hands – creating one-sheets to get meetings, crafting stellar bios, even developing business plans for films and series. Whatever the endeavor, the challenge when writing about our creative work is the same: how to do it in a way that makes the heart of the project beat faster, that doesn’t slow it down with explanations, data, projections…

Pardon, I dozed off for a minute.

And so I push on, experimenting with forms and sentences that balance clarity and feeling. I try to pay closer attention to what I’m feeling, or not feeling, in my body when I realize I’m writing only from the safety of intellectual concepts. I try to pay closer attention to what I’m thinking when I notice my breath drop deeper and my heart beat faster – the clear signals that I’m looking into the barrel of what I want and have something on the line.

I make progress. I get scared. I check email. I have a breakthrough. I get overwhelmed. I eat potato chips. I fantasize about pulling a “Twyla Tharp.” The story goes something like this: Tharp, arguably the late 20^th century’s most influential choreographer, got frustrated with the time that the New York Foundation for the Arts’ grant application was taking away from her work in the studio. She took a marker, drew a big X on the application cover and wrote, “I don’t make grants…I make dances!” She was awarded the grant.Apparently, the committee found her Sharpie art charming…that, and her already established body of Super Work. But where I’m at in my career, I need to make dances and grants. And, ideally, grants that dance.

When I’ve done this in the past – this writing about the work, applying for this, that and the other – I’ve often felt like the inner-technician won out. My need to be ‘acceptable’ beat out my need to express the mess, and it was the mess that drove me to create the work in the first place.

***

Another of the kick-ass SXSW experiences was attending the Catherine Hardwicke Directing Workshop. The director of Twilight, Thirteen & The Lords of Dogtown fielded questions from the audience, explaining how she brought complicated shots and concepts to life. And she did this with the aid of a serious (yes, you guessed it!) Power Point presentation – videos, sketches, story boards – and her indomitable spirit guiding the show. The Day Job Terrorists, it turns out, can be beaten at their own game. Often, she said, her ideas weren’t at first understood by her collaborators. She had to keep finding new ways of communicating what she wanted – drawings, reports, research, shooting spec videos on the fly. Getting her point across is the director’s burden. It’s the job.

When I recently showed my first draft of the Deck to my writing group – people who know the history of the work and its personal velocity – they saw me veering down the too-technical path again. They pointed out the missing steps, the moments that were unclear, but they also warned me not to lose the desire behind them. Structure and heart. Both are needed. The scaffolding is not enough. Nor is it useful to throw up my hands if I’m not understood on my terms only, thus cutting off chances for collaboration, and for my work to have as far a reach as possible.

This week, taking the advice of the writing group, combing over the last year’s notes and images, and listening more closely to the rumblings in my head, I’ve plugged away. The next draft is becoming more immediate, idiosyncratic, and, I hope, clearer.

I’ve set a new Deck Draft deadline for next Tuesday. And if you have any tips and tricks on how you’ve created your best work about the work, I’d love to hear them. Inspired by the passion of Ms. Tharp and the fortitude of Ms. Hardwicke, let’s rise to the challenge of making the most effective work about the work that we can.

Drawing by Bixentro

We’re thrilled that journalist Christopher Vaughan chose to profile our site in Backstage! You can check out the article here. Like so many others, we started our careers through the auditions that would come out every Thursday in the actors’ “paper of record,” so it’s especially sweet to be on the receiving end of its attention. And thanks to our fab contributors Kai Soremekun and Cris D’Annunzio for their kind quotes.

Photo of Sarah & Claire by Amanda Rowan

We would also like to congratulate Jared Gertner!  Though he hasn’t contributed a piece to Minerva (ahem, ahem), he is the husband of Minerva’s music guru Jeffrey Marshek.  Read some of Jeffrey’s music columns and get inspired to update your playlists.

Rory O’Malley, Josh Gad, Andrew Rannells, Nikki M. James and Michael Potts

in The Book of Mormon

Photo by Joseph Marzullo/WENN

Post Image by Patrick Hoesly

Fast forward to the present – we have learned the hard way that, though loyal, our (thoughtful, creative & attractive) audience is quite specific, and, uh, this demographic doesn’t have the reputation for being too spend-y. These, unfortunately, are not qualities that excite advertisers. We are too niche.

Producing this content takes many (many!) hours each week, and each year we pay hosting/server fees, banking fees, and business taxes. We get a lot out of putting this site together, and we know you get a lot out of reading it: we see our audience growing, and you tell us how much the site means to you when we meet you out and about in LA and New York.

These are uncertain times at Minerva. We are attempting to figure out the viability of the site for the long-term and are exploring our next steps. In the meantime, will you make a donation in honor of the value you’ve received from the site and its fully searchable archive? $10 would be great, and if you can afford more, please consider a larger donation to compensate for those who can’t contribute.

Now is your chance to let us know how important this site is to you. If you’re a performer your donation is tax deductible as an education expense, and all donors can choose to be listed on our Donation Wall with the cute/inspirational/self-promoting tag line of your choice!

Thank you for helping make Brains of Minerva healthy & sustainable, the way it strives to make your life in acting.

Photo by Webtreats