How To Be A Commercial Actress

So this is what it’s like to be in demand! After months of less-than-enthusiastic representation, I’m finally auditioning like a real actor. Frankly, I'm even more convinced that this is the dumbest career in the world. (Scratch that – those Jackass jackasses have the dumbest career in the world.)

Want to know what auditioning for commercials is like? Come with me!

Monday: First up, an alcoholic beverage!

The premise: A happy family sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner. There's no scripted dialogue, no story, no nothing, so just cut up your imaginary turkey and make small talk with a table of strangers pretending to be your family. Be sure to keep your mouth a sanitary distance from the cutlery and most importantly, make it real!

Next up: A large discount chain!

A tip: If you’re the only person who isn’t there for a callback, you’re not getting the job. If the director walks past all the girls, singles out the prettiest one and tosses off “Let’s see if we can get it for you this time”, you’re not getting the job. Most importantly, if there happens to be a blackboard with the sentence written on it, say it. It doesn’t matter that the line isn't mentioned in the script or that the blackboard is shoved over into a corner. Or that the board HAPPENS TO BE BEHIND YOU. Say. The. Line.

(Okay, how was I supposed to know “What are you doing?” was a line? I thought it was more of an existential question…)

Tuesday: a pet location device!

Show up, get handed a card with a number. (Just like in “A Chorus Line”!) Wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Finally, go in. Get a step-by-step from the unenthusiastic casting director. “Hold the card up under your chin. State your name. Turn to profile, but just one turn, not two. ONE TURN. Turn back and put the card down on the podium. I’ll pan down to do a full body shot. Then say ‘I am not allergic to dogs’ followed by something about loving dogs or a story about your dog or something.” When storytime comes, begin babbling about how much you love your English bulldog named Bill. Hope the casting director buys it. (Pray if you book the job, they don’t ask you to bring him, seeing as how you actually own two cats.)

Wednesday: A callback for the adult beverage!

After ten years of auditioning at this casting office, you finally meet the woman who owns it. (She looks just like her sister, that famous Broadway singer!) She’s actually running the call and she’s… under-nice. (See: “Having Famous Sister”.) Notice that your seating position at the Thanksgiving table leaves you with your back to the camera. Try to scootch around so that the camera can see your face but get blocked by fellow “family members” who refuse to move, thereby improving their own face time. (Bastards!) Casting director keeps yelling “YOU, cheat to camera! CHEAT TO CAMERA!” Ignore all rules of etiquette (and sense) while trying to come up with creative ways to eat your imaginary meal while facing away from the table. Fail.

Next up: A toy company! Groan inwardly at the godawful copy. Do everything in your power to make lines like “Your children play the piano very well!” and “Why, it’s music to my ears!” appear conversational. Get paired with a nervous Asian lady but somehow manage to stumble through. Be thankful that you wore your "Young Mom" polo shirt.

A call from your agent! The adult beverage people LOVED you! They want to see you for another spot! Now. (Apparently your inability to cheat to the camera was a selling point.) This time, pretend to be at a 4th of July fireworks display. The guy who played your husband at the Thanksgiving debacle happened to get called back as well. Fondle his hair and do some on-camera canoodling to foster an immediate, imaginary sense of intimacy with the stranger. Thank “husband” for letting you manhandle him. Notice funny looks from his real life wife. Notice how very, very young the ad guys are.

Today: Wait for the phone to ring...

(*Ever since Gunderman pointed out that mentioning a product in ones blog can lead to ones blog being read by said company, I’ve decided to remain vague since I’d actually like to work again.)