A selftape audition and an important life lesson

Last week, I was supposed to take part in the June edition of TAS Actors' Jam, but then FYP season came around and one of the student productions caught my eye. I submitted my headshot and resume for the role and got an audition - and thus began my selftape process again - to prepare adequately for my role, I called out of the table read session. This time, I am definitely better prepared compared to last year when I literally operated on instinct, but this time was different. I was a non-verbal villain in Viral. This time round, for the first time, I'm going for the ingenue role and that is a whole new challenge: I have long emotional monologues, a real character arc written into the script, an actual story to tell and a lifetime to live. It's incredible, exciting and an absolute joy to audition for.

This is definitely not the first time I've tried for a lead actress role, but the last time round I felt like I hit rock bottom. I received and exceptional script. I loved it wholeheartedly and put in what I thought was my 100%. I submitted my selftape and waited. However, the more I thought back on it, the more holes I discovered in my character preparation. I didn't consider her emotional journey. I wasn't modulating my voice. I wasn't aware of my movement and my subliminal gestures ("over-expression", as a more experienced actor would say). Simply put, I memorized my lines and I had a pretty good understanding of the story and my role, but I wasn't living it. That felt like a punch to the gut, and I walked into this next audition almost a month later with a negligible amount of confidence.

It had been a slow month due to the spike in COVID-19 cases and the announcement of Phase 2 Heightened Alert (P2HA) measures, but the moment the polytechnic film departments began sending out their casting calls, we were back out in full swing. The moment I got my audition script, my first instinct was to start preparing. It wasn't long before I sighted an iceberg: Hold up, how am I supposed to prepare for an audition again?

It felt like going back to square one. I was no stranger to the acting process, but it felt like every time a new script fell into my hands, I would go through the five stages of grief in reverse order - my pessimism would chew at my brain cells while I valiantly struggle to convince myself that I should at least give the audition a try. I opened up my little green notebook and began dutifully outlining my character's biography, but insecurity soon gnawed at me again and I eventually started thinking about how much of an impostor I was. How do I make sure that I can fully embody a character? How do I shape her voice, her image and her walk through her headspace? What layers come on and off at each turn of the story?

Looking back, I'd say the stress of trying to tick every single box there is in the universe did help me to create a better character, but while it was happening, it was not fun. I shot my tape twice. This time round, my focus was on pace and intensity. My character had a voice, a way of carrying herself and life experiences that were very different from my own, so I made sure to uphold them. Despite everything, I kept feeling like somehow I'm missing out on something, and up to the point when I sent my selftape in - I had gotten vaccinated and was feeling too sore to film a replacement tape which I wanted to - I felt like my selftape was woefully inadequate.

So when I swapped tapes with my friend who was auditioning for the same character and who had gone through the same acting course as I did, I expected the usual pleasantries - "Not bad for a beginner! With some practice you'll eventually get the hang of it." I knew the drill. I thought I did.

By the heavens, I was wrong. Frame by frame, beat by beat, every first is a cause for celebration in an actor's journey - but it's a very special kind of first to be told by your colleague in the industry that your performance wowed them to the point that their eyes were glued to the tape. It's a special kind of first to know that your work showed up where it mattered, that moments of silence were where my emotions pierced right through. It feels like I've been seen at last, and though I may never stop feeling like an impostor - who does? - I now know for sure that I've truly grown as a performer from last year to now.

I've constantly felt like I don't belong and that I would never amount to anything compared to all the actual talents out there... but for the first time, I'm starting to believe in my own power a little more. And maybe that is the push I need to keep going, because I now feel ready to take on even more and to continue to scale this mountain so that I may one day reach its summit.