83 Audition Preparation Tips
- Read email three times to make sure you’ve understood it.
- Check it really is your name on the address bar.
- Investigate email for any subtext:
“We should like to see you for the part of Mel on Tuesday at 2:30 pm at the Danky-Musty Casting Suite, E27. - Go into panic mode because you can’t immediately remember who the hell Mel is.
- Is she the alcoholic cleaner in the art-house blanc-noir film or the guilt-racked judge in that piece of new writing at The King’s Head?
- Search all sent emails.
- Sigh with relief when it turns out that Mel is the role you have always dreamt of playing, at a major venue directed by a name.
- Stop sighing and panic again.
- Read scene attached and realise that the part was made for you.
- Pour a drink and get to work.
- Post enigmatic pieces on Facebook and Twitter. You can’t tell people you’ve an audition because they’ll only keep asking inane questions such as, “Did you get that big job you wanted, then?” And you’ll want to spit and snarl at them and say something like, “Moron! Do you really think I wouldn’t have told you if I had”
- So post: “Great day today, smiley face.”
- Or, “Send good vibes and cross your fingers for me at 2:30 tomorrow.” (Bloody superstition again)
- Go into extreme panic mode when you realise that you have typed “tomorrow”. In your excitement you’d forgotten today was Monday. You’ve less than fifteen hours to get organised.
- Read scene again and realise that it is impossible to learn by tomorrow and, in any case, also realise that you are too stupid to understand it.
- Go and make sandwich.
- Read scene yet again and decide to play Mel with a Welsh accent.
- Hunt for chocolate.
- Spend ten minutes reading scene to cat/house-mate/random husband.
- Decide it doesn’t work in Welsh so try your Liverpool accent.
- Do something really useful like checking how to get to audition venue.
- Check to see if there’s a tube strike planned.
- Work out bus routes.
- Re-read email.
- Wonder why they’ve asked you for mid-afternoon. If it is just after their lunch will they be a bit lackadaisical?
- Wonder if you should eat lunch prior. Acting on a full stomach is not a good idea. Tummy rumblings whilst performing your soliloquy isn’t good either.
- Go to fridge to see if there is anything in it with which you could make a sandwich to eat on the way home.
- Decide you’ll make a late breakfast.
- Read scene again and learn first two lines. (see line learning blog)
- Google the director.
- Try to memorise what else he’s done so your can try to talk intelligently during the chatty part of the meeting.
- Google the author – fail to find a photograph of her.
- Get all anxious about who else might be there.
- Go on facebook, whats-ap-thing or whatever to see if any of the other actors in your casting range have also posted enigmatically; forewarned is forearmed.
- Look at script again and realise that Mel does not need a regional accent which is a good thing because you are rubbish at accents.
- Decide what to wear for audition. Something that gives the flavour of the character without being over-the-top. A blue suit for a police-person rather than going in full regalia; a short skirt for a call-girl but not a pelmet over fish-net tights.
- Panic because your lucky socks are nowhere to be found.
- Pluck your eyebrows to compensate.
- Re-check route to audition.
- Re-read email to check time of audition.
- Print off two more copies of the scene just in case you lose one or spill your orange juice over the other one on the tube ride there.
- Make a list of what you must and mustn’t do such as:
- Must ake eye-contact during interview bit.
- Must not stare like a stalker if stumped by a question.
- Listen and don’t babble.
- Show calmness but not coldness.
- Don’t trip over the furniture.
- Remember to breathe.
- Go to bed early so you are fresh and bouncy for the next day.
- Get up at 2 am unable to sleep and resume hunt for lucky socks.
- Place copy of script under your pillow to aid memory of lines.
- Drink emergency hot chocolate to help you sleep.
- Get up at 4 am after a nightmare about being attacked by giant marshmallows.
- Suddenly remember that lucky socks are probably still stuffed inside unlucky wellington boots.
- Stick lucky socks under pillow.
- Turn off annoying alarm clock at 9 am.
- Wake up in panic at noon.
- Do vocal warm up in the shower.
- Hurriedly dress in totally different clothes to what you had decided the previous day.
- Discard lucky socks – they are totally inappropriate.
- Pack day-bag with scripts, soft drinks, throat sweets, oyster card, comb, usual paraphernalia.
- Leave house and walk towards bus stop.
- Two minutes later, return to house and put lucky socks in coat pocket; what harm could that do?
- Get to audition thirty minute early.
- Enjoy performing for a change
- Charm everyone.
- Go home and put it all out of your mind cos it’s no big deal and they said they’d let you know by Thursday.
- Don’t think about Mel at all.
- Accidentally ring your mobile from the landline, to check phone is working; just a mere seven or eight times a day
- Send just a few dozen emails from your auxiliary email account to your actory one to check internet still working.
- Google the play’s title every now and then to see if casting has been announced.
- On Thursday evening tell the cat that it was a stupid play, bound to be a flop in a stupid theatre and that they can stuff their stupid leading role up their stupid jumpers.
- On Friday morning answer phone calmly when caller id says it’s the Director.
- Say “that’s ok” when he starts off apologising for delay in getting back to you.
- Try very very hard not to whoop and yell when he says they’d like to offer you the role and could you start next Thursday?
- Open download of entire script.
- Decide to read it later.
- Tell The Aunt and best friend that you’re going to be in a play.
- Kiss lucky socks and decide to place them back in the safe keeping of wellington boots.
- Practise Olivier awards acceptance speech.
- Sleep soundly.
For two hours. - Wake up in a panic.
- Wonder if they really did mean you.