Unless you have a really short attention span, you may have noticed that this is an important year for me, as I make my first attempt to enter Drama School this month. My regular readers may also have noticed that I have suffered another one of my bouts of reclusive behaviour, this week. Here's a hint: the two are related.I hate filling in forms: it's dull, repetitive, and often kills any inspiration to stand out. For me, being asked to describe myself, write a personal statement, or list my acting experience is like asking the Pope to explain the Catholic Church to a Martian. It takes forever! However, forms are a neccessary bureaucratic evil - a tedious means to a (hopefully) glorious end. After all, I had to fill in forms to go to University, and I survived that experience.
Each of the four schools I am begging a place from has its own intake process, but the basic model is this: send off an application form; pay the application fee (these things don't come for free, of course); wait to recieve notification of an audition date; prepare two audition pieces, one Shakespeare or Jacobean speech and one modern, neither lasting longer than two minutes; attend the audition; wait for notification of a recall audition; attend the recall audition; wait for notification of entry; and wait; and wait; and wait. Did I mention there is a lot of waiting involved? Of course, there are several points at which one can receive notification of rejection. Such is the industry; and I'm insane enough to want to enter it.
Even if I were to become a student at RADA, Bristol Old Vic, LAMDA, or Guildhall, there is no guarantee of immediate or stable work after graduation. It all depends on agents coming to your final showcase and saying "I want him; I can get him plenty of work". Then, of course, there is the crushing reality that agents cannot be relied on for work; a bitterly unpleasant pill which takes many actors a long time to swallow. If your agent does get you into auditions, it's just a matter of going over the same process all over again: turn up, do your thing, leave, and wait. The life of an actor revolves around uncertainty, waiting, and rejection. Why on earth would anyone want to live like that?
I can't speak for anyone else, but I'll tell you why I think it's worth it. When I'm up there, on a stage, or in front of a camera, or even simply standing at a microphone, I get totally and utterly lost. I remember reading somewhere that our dreams are made of the desire to feel safe, and realising those dreams often lead to a bliss which cannot be compared to any chemical drug or physical stimulation of the hormones. I couldn't put it better, myself. Sure, there is plenty of difficulty getting into the industry, and plenty of instability once moving within it, but any actor worth his salt is fully aware of all this. The point is that he or she has the drive and devotion to the craft which will help them pursue work despite these obstacles. You may not be working as an actor for 95% of the year, but what about that 5%? I'd take 5% of bliss over 100% contentment.
However much I hate filling in forms, however much I have to spend, however much I have to wait, and however many times I get rejected, there is nothing on this earth which will stop me from going after that safety provided by doing what I was born to do.
Where's my pen?
