Pure entitlement
On screwups

My first role | 777

[ 3 min read ]

Diary of an artist, Wednesday, October 10, 2018

# 777 (countdown)


Copy of Adulthood smooth& tasty.-11

Woke up 4:30 am.

Yesterday I had my first role in a TV series. A small one, but not as small as one sentence. A conversation. Lasted half a minute at least (maybe even closer to one minute). Actually I’m glad it was a small one. Better to start small.

I’m not shy in front of the camera, the film crew and other actors. That’s a good thing. I made a mistake twice in my lines and we had to do the take all over again. Fortunately it wasn’t my first set, so I know that it’s a common thing that people forget or mess up their lines, even professional actors. They say “I’m sorry” and there is another attempt. The takes are usually short so that the actors can remember all their moves, positions in front of the camera, lines and suggestions coming from the director or other crew members.

My observation is that, for whatever reason, the film crew is more patient with professional actors than they are with people who are not professional actors. Which, of course, is absurd. Should be the opposite, if at all. Is the assumption that an amateur actor should make no mistake, while the professional actor is allowed to make them, reasonable? I guess they are more patient with professional actors because a guy holding a mic over someone’s head during a take (who happens to be a dickface) is more likely to be intimidated by someone who is a professional actor than by an amateur. A professional actor earned the right to make mistakes, whereas an amateur didn’t earn such right.

Still, it’s an absurd thing. But it’s like this in the whole society. We esteem those who, according to the common belief, should be esteemed. Educated people, so called successful people, laureates of some prize, TV personalities, celebrities, people with titles, people in esteemed professions, people who are generally esteemed, etc. And there is the rest — those who are on the same level as you are, or even lower, so you don’t need to worry that they’ll ever intimidate you. You can be your regular self (a dickface) around them.

Reading (since my last diary entry):

Screams from the Balcony by Charles Bukowski (60 min, on scribd app).

What Shall We Do? by Leo Tolstoy (60 min, on scribd app).

Fire in the Belly: The Life and Times of David Wojnarowicz by Cynthia Carr (60 min, on scribd app).

Audiobooks (since my last diary entry):

Hollywood by Charles Bukowski (60 min, on scribd app).

YouTube videos and movies (since my last diary entry):

Saving Private Ryan (on HBO go) Finished it.

Proof (on HBO go) Finished it

Collateral Beauty (on HBO go) Finished it

American Splendor(on HBO go) Finished it

Sully (on HBO go) Finished it

A Man Called Ove (original title: En man som heter Ove) (on HBO go) Finished it

Music for this writing session: Imagine Dragons (on spotify).