A Zak Barnett Studios long-time student and enthusiast of all things acting and self-discovery, Ava Marilyn seeks to capture the essence of the studio in her writing through her weekly personal experiences and epiphanies and her findings about the deeper self and others. Through these diary entry-type updates from someone actively studying and working through the industry, she hopes to provide an insider’s look into the studio itself, its practices, and its impact.
There’s always lots of money, and designer bags, and Prada coats, and Dior lipstick. There’s cameras, and fans, and parties on yachts, and deals signed in corner booths at the Beverly Hills Hotel, and collaborations for franchises that rival any of the world’s wealthiest business partner agreements and corporate takeovers.
Hollywood is tricky. Smoke and mirrors abound. Glamor, wealth, access, influence, and power seem to be doled out in spades, or so it can look from here.
But, if you’re even slightly dialed in, you know it’s not really like that.
Okay, so it is for a select few on a couple of fancy occasions, but for the majority of us – the working actors of LA (and anywhere else for that matter) – the job entails a whole lot of daily grinds; of mundane life, of committed, tiny, micro-actions over time. Often, lots of time.
The backbone of the entertainment industry itself actually screams of copious amounts of personal grit and fortitude, of sweat and creative torture, of broken promises, and a zillion efforts not being seen or noticed by anyone of any significance who can actually do anything to advance the career of the normal ones, putting in the effort.
We are the bedrock of this town.
We, the rise at dawn, morning routine obsessives – reading scripts, getting new headshots, attending class, and trying to look busy on our Instagram feeds. The ones waiting tables, going broke on Uber trips, rooming with four people in a one-bedroom, trying to make rent. That’s the Hollywood for most of us.
Hollywood is hard. The idea of it as a metaphor, and the city itself.
The costs, the transient nature of it, the limited space – especially for parking – and the clamor of egos trying to climb to the top of piles on desks and social media feeds.
What am I not getting? I thought I’d done enough time by now. And by now, I mean… from 2011 to 2024.
I know there’s no direct recipe for how it should go. It’s different for everyone.
And I know I don’t need nor deserve preferential treatment or privilege. It just seems that I’m in the circles, that I’ve honed in on my sweet spot, I’ve navigated the waters well of where to show up and whose hand to shake.
But I feel stuck. I know that’s completely normal.
I learned recently that one A-Lister had an audition when she was 14. She got the part, and she’s “never studied formally since.” I also learned of a guy 30 years in, who finally broke a role at 50 years old and is now a household name. Look at how it goes… extremes, right? No guaranteed tracks or strategies. None of it makes sense. Sense making is crazy making, I know!
So I release that. I let go of comfort again. I know these things in my head… this ebb and flow of each person’s journey, but I want something sooner, rather than later. I wish I knew how the industry worked. Is there a team of strategists and heads of state somewhere overseeing it all, just withholding secrets as to make each of us suffer a little longer? I’ve worked hard and I want to see it count for something. Something I can see, measure, hang my hat on? Business, politics, linear lines, tangible products, and plans… they seem to win.
I wish for artistry to have more of a voice. I know it’s hard to measure, to quantify its purpose or effect on society/culture but isn’t it obvious what artistry contributes to the human soul and how balanced emotionally healthy artists can be positive elements in a culture?
We keep hearing how “brutal” it is out there post Covid 19… the impact of the strikes on landing an audition, the threat of the “off chance you get an audition, let alone booking a part”. Are we getting anywhere? Am I presenting my tiny chisel as a means to chip away at an iceberg and think I’m making a difference? I’m running and running, but the scenery doesn’t change. I was hoping the marathon was leading somewhere, rather than logging steps on a treadmill.
In full transparency, since I first started looking at scripts from having sat in enough theaters and loving the power of the stories, this uncertain path of busting my tail not seeming to get anywhere, has always been my experience.
I am a working actor. Not being paid mind you, but never not working.
This bleak – though still hopeful – view of the industry has always looked this way to me… somewhat ideal and dreamy, and also mostly untouchable.
The varying voices from the inside – and the outside of the industry – advising the how-tos for success are loud. Which ones shall I attend to, and which ones do I silence?
What does “stay in my lane/stick to my brand” even mean, when I know that broadening my horizons and being seen in workshops and parties is important too? I know this is a dynamic quest, not a static one. It’s the flexible walls and possibilities I love about the industry, not the predictable outcomes that come with a more traditional path… yet, the constant uncertainty of trying to break into the business with absolutely zero predictability of anything, that takes its toll.
I will keep going. This is my calling. I release the need to prove and know and I embrace the hope of it all, which is always my rudder… the tenacious hope. The lottery is worth it.
I’ll keep going.
And I suppose what makes this industry so worth the hard parts, is the reward that comes with the time I am confident I will strike it gold. That is my why.
The breakout role I’m preparing myself for now.
I’m trusting my gut on this one.
I know I’ll have a turn.
I want to be ready when it comes.
Keep on keeping on…
