Casting Calls Can Be Scary: How to Get Over a Bad Audition

I’m sorry you’re here, sort of. You’re reading this, I assume, because you just came out of a casting call and now you want to know how to get over a bad audition. Before I lay out exactly what to do after the big bowl of ice cream, let me tell you: I feel your pain. Here’s what to do when things don’t go right in the room, so that no matter what, you keep the dream alive.

Am I pretty enough for casting calls on TV?

If you’ve ever asked yourself that, let me answer from experience. This was the year I started my transition from classical theater to commercials and television. Early on I wasn’t sure I could do any on-camera work at all. I had no confidence, I was afraid of casting calls, and I didn’t think I was pretty enough. That’s the truth. To say I was a head case is an understatement. Theater was what made me comfortable, and next to me through all of it was a man who always thought I was pretty. Now I’m blushing.

The casting that would be my big break, or so I thought

It was my very first casting call for a television show, which would be stressful enough, but I was particularly neurotic that day. The show was a long-forgotten series called Hidden Palms. Any Arizona actor from the early 2000s is nodding. In a small market, when a big casting call comes through, everyone knows about it. I’m talking the once-every-couple-of-years, real, nationwide television gig, and local actors get excited. I was no different. I was more desperate than the character I played in a sketch with Michelle Fortin called “Look What Joanna Made Us Do,” which is saying something.

And I want to remind you at this point in the story not to give up. There is light at the end of this tunnel. Keep at it and eventually you won’t have to worry about bad casting calls, because you’ll simply cast yourself, which is advice straight out of my husband’s book, Acting Is My Day Job. Read it if you want to make acting a career. Now back to the story.

Young actor, poorly styled, seeking validation. What could go wrong?

Somehow, despite my odd clothes and my bundle of nerves, I made an interesting choice and got a callback. I remember every detail of the phone call from my agent. I was elated and terrified. My agent at the time was Matt Engelhart at Ford RBA in Scottsdale, and he told me I had the callback, and then he told me the rest: “The casting director said you dressed all wrong. Wear something else.” This was kind. He wanted me to book it. But I was insecure, and I’d just gotten a callback for a national show, and all I could think was, how do I get over a bad audition? A side note, since it’s relevant: be careful what you say after any audition or job.

A good casting call turned into a meltdown

I had no idea how to pull myself together. Suddenly I hated everything in my closet. The character was a trophy-wife type: too much makeup, tight pants, big earrings. What had I worn? A gray business suit. What was I going for? I have no idea. I spent so much time worrying about the outfit that I stopped working on the actual script.

Don’t you wish I could tell you the outfit was the worst of it? What I actually did was get over my obsession with how I looked by giving a horrible audition. I entered the room in character. Why? I don’t know. I panicked.

How do you know you’re having a meltdown?

• You stop thinking clearly.
• You focus on the wrong thing, all the time.
• You’re paralyzed by negative thoughts.
• You start miming in callbacks.

Now for the very, very bad casting

There I was, at my first big casting call, in front of several casting directors, already playing the role. They asked me to slate and I started making ridiculous jokes as the over-the-top trophy wife. I’m pretty sure the director thought I was insane. Then they asked for an improvisation. It was terrible. I felt like I was falling off a cliff in slow motion, and knowing it was going badly, I started trying harder, which is never the answer. So with nowhere left to go, I turned into a mime. Literally. Rushing, speaking nonsense, doing unrecognizable mime work. Things got weird. Real weird.

Here’s how you get over a bad audition

That audition was bad. That’s the truth of it. I left depressed. It was my first time sitting in the car, staring at the steering wheel, wondering whether I should keep acting at all. Now I can look back and laugh, and I tell my students how important it is to reflect on both the good castings and the bad ones. Remembering is how you learn, and that’s the secret. You get over a bad audition by getting better. A bad audition becomes a gift if you choose to get up and try again.

Five steps to get over a bad audition

1. Ground yourself in reality. In truth, it’s not that bad.
2. Breathe deeply, to relieve the stress before it gets big.
3. Reflect on the whole process and learn from it.
4. Find one good thing you did, or one good thing that might come of it.
5. Let it go. I promise there will be more casting calls.

What I’ve learned from a lot of casting calls

Everyone has their thing. A stubborn dialect. Laziness. Crippling nerves, which are mine. You’ll meet your thing face to face over and over. Sometimes you’ll win, sometimes you won’t. There will be moments when you relax enough to let your talent through, and then you’ll fail again. To this day, before every audition, I remind myself to breathe. Then I focus on gratitude. Then I release the audition, because that particular job is not the reason I became an actor, and that makes me feel better every time, because it’s true.

The nerves never fully go away, because you care. But they lose their power through repetition of craft, through doing the scary, brave thing over and over: getting on stage, getting on camera, speaking in front of a room. Whatever the scary thing is, go after it, because that’s the only way through it. Keep working. Never quit.

And on the other side of that very bad audition, something great happened. I’m a stronger performer because of it. So get excited about the failure. You won’t find a better teacher. Except maybe my husband. Okay, now I’m done.