Thursday, July 13, 2006

Greedy Hearts

Reading one of my favorite blogs, I noticed my buddy and uber-successful blogger Deej write about greed touching the hearts of all men. Specifically, Deej references the train-wreck show "America's Got Talent" and comments on how the Screen Actor's Guild strike of 2000, the strike's resolution and subsequent writer's strike helped facilitate the boom of reality television. Deej points out some artists believe that network execs are to blame for the dumbing down of entertainment because train wreck reality shows have much lower talent fees since people voluntarily expose themselves to potential fame and/or humiliation. Deej also opines that creative unions and guilds make artists as corrupt as everyone else. These writings come on the blog's "Open Thread Thursday" and I believe Deej may create a fascinating discussion.

Two events in the year of the actor's strike stick out for me. The first was an offer to audition to be a Toyota spokesperson for a cool $50,000 for a few months work. This offer came from an agent who spent two years ignoring me, my work, and my mailings. As non-union talent, I was on a much lower rung, but I suddenly got the attention I'd been craving. After a good deal of thought, I turned down the audition, feeling that I would be less of a person if I took advantage of an actor's strike to further my career. After turning down this audition, I did not get any more calls from any agents. A few weeks later, the second notable event was upon me as I listened to a union actor friend of mine go on his soapbox about the trials of the striking actors. He bemoaned the fact that he actually had to get a temp job to support himself now that he was an actor on strike. I'd been supporting myself on lousy temp jobs for over five years while I tried to get paid acting work. It was a rude reality that I was very familiar with and I didn't appreciate the distaste that this actor showed on becoming a part of my reality. I certainly knew that it was wrong for the entertainment industry to try to make millions of dollars through shady deals and using new technologies like the internet and cable to take revenue away from working talent. However, I had no sympathy for striking actors who told me how awful my level of reality was and told me to fight for them so they could return to their higher plain and I could stay on the unpaid lower non-union rung. Supporting the actors on strike took potential revenue away from me, as well. Still, crossing the line to take advantage of labor unrest isn't something I could do. By the third month of the strike, I had dislike and distaste for both sides. Over the next few years, I focused more on theatrical acting; voluntarily unpaid work without messy labor issues that allowed me to further explore the craft I love so much.

Now, to the point that greed touches the hearts of all men. I've spent over fifteen years trying to find the job that balances the realities of artistic fulfillment and living wage income. I've yet to secure a permanent position in teaching, the job I believe best balances the realities. I would dearly love to be paid for the theater work I love so much. I would happily take paid TV, movie, radio, theater, or teaching work. I'm not willing to use labor unrest to further my acting career, nor do I want to debase myself for agents, casting directors, or the American television public to make a living. I'm greedy for the attention and fulfillment the theater world gives me. I'd love to be watched and adored by millions of people. I want to make as much money as possible, regardless of my career path, and if money and career were being taken away from me, I'd fight to keep it. However, for every single career, success depends on who you know. Every single long-term job I've gotten has come from a personal connection to the company or successful name dropping. So yes, greed does touch the hearts of all, but your level of greed depends on who you know.

UPDATE FOR 2009: I'm happy to say that I've found a theatrical home in the Factory Theater and that I've found some balance working as a writer. No way of saying for sure that these are the final paths and places for me, but for the past two years, it really feels like it was worth all the time (15+ years) spent searching. There certainly has been less personal labor unrest and a great deal of fulfillment. I'm glad I know who I know at the Factory and I'm fortunate to work where I do. Stay tuned.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Very well said, Colin. Sounds a wee bit like all those academics with "fancy, tenure-track" jobs pissing and moaning about "having to teach" five classes a semester just so they "get" to do their "real" work, research. You know I am sympathetic, as a fellow artist, to the trials of attempting to find and maintain a balance in my work life. I haven't found that yet, and may never, but if I lose my sympathy for those in the least appreciated and most unrecognized positions (striking actors, possibly, in your case, or more likely, those non-union folks who also work hard, don't get paid, and STILL have no voice), then my integrity is gone. I say, let those who truly do not understand these issues and how they rule one's life go on, pissing and moaning. The rest of us have work to do.

--Kristi

Colin said...

Thank you, Kristi, for pointing out the exact same dynamic occurring in the academic world. I know the thought of teaching four or five classes greatly pains some pissy professors who are nicely set up in their untouchable tenure positions. Hell, if all I had to do was look some things up every now and then, write whenever I felt like it, and get paid a solid living wage for that level of work, I certainly wouldn't want to have do all the legwork involved with being an adjunct teacher. However, as you said, it's the thought of these professionals "lowering" themselves to that working level that we are so familiar with that is distasteful. Bottom line, remember your working roots and respect the people who are going through that process. I appreciate your comments, Kristi.