Pretty dramatic title isn't it. "The Audition That Changed My Life." Well, the truth is, I've had a few auditions that have changed my life. Some good, some bad, and some just extremely average. But at this stage, I've come to the conclusion that there's value to be found in every audition that you will ever do.
By far the most gratifying audition I ever had was when I was sent in for the character of Mr. Brathwaite in the musical, Billy Elliott. Truthfully, I was surprised, (and thrilled), that I was being seen for that particular character at all. The character of Mr. Brathwaite is usually played by someone who is more of a "character type" than what I would be considered to be. To give you an idea of what I am referencing, the actor whom they were replacing at the time was six foot three, probably two hundred and forty pounds, and black. If I'm being totally honest with myself, I am in many ways, an average, generic type. I'm approximately six feet tall, I'm in good physical shape, and have nothing really quirky or different about me...personality aside. Although some may argue, I was perhaps the most generic looking man in the room. Every other actor called in, had a unique physicality or quirkiness about them that could lend itself to the role very nicely. Aside from my salt and pepper hair, I have the kind of look that could still fit easily in to any dance ensemble of any piece of musical theatre out there.
The audition for Billy Elliott was like none I had ever done before. I can honestly say that by the end of the day, I was spent. We learned multiple combinations that we would then do in groups of two. Following that, we were taught Mr. Brathwaite's solo which we would then do as a solo, get notes from the dance supervisor, then do again, with everyone in the room watching...no pressure there. Now I've always been of the firm belief that in an audition, you do exactly what the choreographer gives you, while still bringing your energy, and what makes you special to the table. I had watched numerous actors at that point perform the solo, all bringing their unique self to the role, regardless if they were dancers first or not. When it came time for me to perform, I was energized, precise and totally invested. After getting a couple of minor notes, I went again and was told point blank "You know, you're a wonderful dancer, but I just don't see your passion." At that point, I felt like someone had just slapped me across the face then kicked me to the floor. I thought " can't see my passion...I ooze passion!" But then it hit me, what she was really trying to tell me was that I just wasn't that funny. I didn't look funny, I could execute all the technical elements with ease, and there wasn't anything I did in that particular performance that seperated me from any other ex ballet dancer out there.
We were then asked to improvise a dance style that we would hate to do on stage. Immediately I thought that this could be my chance to redeem myself. I thought "you don't see my passion...just wait!" We were told to do maybe thirty or forty seconds and that the accompanist would improvise along with you. Most people picked pretty standard dance styles, modern, hoe down, ballet...then it was my turn. When asked what I'd like to do I replied "nineteen eighties, mellow dramatic, lyrical." The accompanist began to play and I then proceeded to pull out all the stops. I started by dramatically running around the entire room, stopping in the centre to just lift my head. I then ran to the auditioner's table, slammed my hands down on it, turned my head away, then turned back all the while doing a side kick layout. I then ran to the back of the room hit the wall, turned back to the panel and proceeded to run and slide on the floor to the dance captain whom was sitting and I grabbed and hugged her legs. My solo went on like this for another minute or so and I can say with full confidence, that when it was all over, I'm pretty certain my passion was no longer in question. I had saved nothing and left it all out on the floor. (I had also garnered applause from the entire room, including the panel.) We were then given more improvisation which did in fact follow with them making a cut...You know...that time in an audition that everyone hates. But for me, on that day, it was good news as they decided that I was to be kept. I can say with great certainty, that had I not left it all out on the floor in my improvised solo, I most likely would have been done for the day. So, I took a risk, and it payed off.
We were then given a break for lunch and were told that we would be working with the resident director when we returned. We were asked to have our song ready and had also been given sides to do. Upon our return we all went in, one by one this time. Now each person going in, was in the room for a good fifteen minutes, and each time someone came out, they had done something completely different than the person before. So really, no one had any idea what to expect. When it was my turn to go in, everything at first seemed quite standard. I was introduced to the resident director and musical director, I went over my song with the musical director, then sang. It was then that I got a taste of what everyone else had gone through previous. The resident director asked me to sing again, but this time to play the total opposite of the song. All during my song he'd stand two feet away and shout out questions to me about the story I was trying to tell. Once we were done, he made me do the song a third time and demanded even more from me. His energy was relentless and he was determined to get all he could out of me. I was then given a quick dialect test and did a small amount of range testing. The resident director then asked me to perform my monologue which I did. He then gave me some simple direction and I was asked to do it again. Upon completing my monologue the second time, he then informed me that we were going to do some improv where I would do the monologue as written, and he would act as Billy and stop me and ask me questions, in which I would respond while arranging small bits of torn up paper that were" very important" to me. Well what started as a thirty second monologue turned into a five minute improvised scene and truthfully, I felt like I was on fire. The adrenaline rush I got in that five minutes was like nothing I had felt before. I was elated and exhausted all at the same time. When I left that room all I could think of was how satisfying that whole experience was and how much I'd love to work with that director. After that, the rest of the day was filled with more dancing, in which I was made to do the Brathwaite solo three more times followed by doing some simple stage combat. All in all, it was a very full day.
Now...here's the thing.. After all that, I did not book the job. They kept telling me for a week that I was "in the mix," but in the end, it did go to someone else, who truthfully, was far more of a physical character type than myself. However, in that short amount of time, I was able to show them that although I may not be your "standard character type," I could in fact, be a strong contender for a character driven role. Truth be told, people in our business like to put us in categories. It's neater and easier that way and confuses no one. We even have names for these said categories... leading man, ingenue, character actor, and the list goes on. Once we can break free of those labels, it can open doors to so much more opportunity. But it does require both work and risk on our part. If you want to change people's mind about you, the first mind you need to change is your own.
Another reason that this was perhaps the most valued audition of my career thus far,(and perhaps the most important thing for me personally), is that this particular audition, was what led to me training at Second City, completing levels A through E in improvisation. Training at Second city was something I had always wanted to do and this particular audition gave me just the push I needed. I treasure the time I spent at Second City and I'm not done yet...I've barely scratched the surface. But I'll save that for my next blog entry.
So go ahead, take a risk...I dare you. I mean really, what's the worst that could happen...You might even discover something wonderful about yourself!
XO Stephen Findlay
A.K.A. The Oldest Male Chorus Dancer in Toronto
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