Commercial auditions are the equivalent of selling your soul to play air guitar with a can of Coke. You’re basically a puppet for casting directors to see how far you’ll go to book a $20,000 paying national commercial. I’ve gone to tons of callbacks for commercials but I have yet to book one of the big ones, I’ve only done the smaller shitty ones. Why? I don’t know. I’ve been told my look isn’t “commercial” enough, I’m too pretty, too weird looking, too tall, too animated, and too boring. I’m always “too” something, yet I continue to torture myself at these auditions because I feel like I don’t have a choice. I do mostly print work, those are easy to book, “We’re looking for a girl with bangs and blue eyes, how about that Melissa girl we shot last month?” “Ok cool, call her agent.” Bam. Done. No audition, no casting, just booked based on what I look like. Commercials on the other hand… “I want you to pretend like you’re in love, walking on the beach with your boyfriend, tell him you love him, now dance with him like it’s the best day of your life, hold his hand, kiss him, now act like you’re at a party, now have a serious look on your face, no laughing, just like that, yeah, perfect.” I wish there was a special pill to make me happy for the 20 minutes I’m waiting at an audition, oh, right, it’s called cocaine.
There’s something about forcing myself to be happy that makes me even unhappier. Oh wait, I’m just depressed most of the time. Maybe that’s why I never book commercials? Maybe my acting isn’t strong enough to convince the director I’m not dying inside while I’m pretending to have a conversation with a pretty bubbly blonde girl about the cute guy across the room for a Captain Morgan commercial.
But the BEST part of auditions is the waiting room. Who doesn’t love watching middle-aged actors practice lines for their Hot Pocket audition? There’s something about the waiting room that is depressing as hell. I don’t want to be one of those people when I get older. I don’t think of myself as an actress, I think of this as a job. I’m a model, sure, but calling myself an actress just doesn’t sound right. I don’t think of myself as knowing how to “act.” I can’t, I’ve tried. I can only be myself. If I go to an audition for a “mid-20s brunette who loves Seinfeld and making fun of herself, but can’t really act” then I’m golden. Until then I’ll try my best to be the “cute girl drinking a Corona at a beach party” so I can continue to pay my rent.