Gruppo Rubato

The casting crunch

// February 8th, 2010 // Blog

Since we managed to work out a deal with ACTRA to be able to use union talent for our video shoot, we were faced with a bit of a time crunch for casting Airport Security.  By “crunch” I mean that we were less than 48 hours from calling “action” on our first camera shot.  So it’s a good thing I had the week off.

Under the ACTRA Independent Production Agreement (AIP), all speaking parts must be played by ACTRA members or apprentices; we managed to get a few non-member permits by virtue of our existing theatre cast, but we still had seven union roles to fill.  Any background performers had to be non-union (we don’t call them “extras” anymore, because that makes them sound like “bonus material” when they are, in fact, key to making scenes look good… besides, “extras” sounds like free toppings on a pizza).

We updated the non-union casting notice we had sent out earlier in the week to state that we were only offering background roles to non-union talent, and then we sent a casting breakdown out to the ACTRA office, who in turn forwarded it to a local mailing list of actors and agents.

As an actor, I have looked at and responded to many casting breakdowns.  I have never written one.  A casting breakdown outlines all of the roles that are being cast; for each character, you specify age range, gender, ethnicity, and anything else that is important, along with a brief description of the character.  Sometimes the breakdown says a little about what the character does.  So I sat down with Patrick and wrote two-sentence descriptions of the characters in his script, arriving at things like:

FIRST OFFICER — 35-45, male, diminutive stature (5’6” or shorter), any ethnicity.
Works in airport security; a little unsure of his own ability but very curious about things he doesn’t know.  Works closely with SECOND OFFICER and relies on her wisdom.

CATSA OFFICIAL / ANNOUNCER — 30-45, female, any ethnicity but must be able to speak English and French fluently.
Bureaucratic, unwilling to budge from the rules as written; the sort who believes rules are written for a reason, and doesn’t question the rules.  Cordial to a fault.

My impish nature made it hard to resist the temptation to write things like “hates wearing socks but is forced to do so by her domineering mother, whom she never mentions” and “cries spontaneously at the mention of Whitney Houston”, but I managed.  Mere moments after sending out the full breakdown, electronic submissions began to pour in.  It was now Monday evening, and we were to start shooting on Wednesday morning.

By far, we received the most interest from non-union talent.  For eight background roles, we received more than 50 submissions.  And let me say that if I were an unscrupulous film producer who never wanted to pay anyone and take total advantage of the dreams of others, going with non-union talent would be the way to do it.  While many people simply submitted a quick photo, contact information, and availability, several folks offered to dump work shifts, skip classes, or dye their hair just for the golden opportunity to stand for hours in a fake airport lobby for a few scant moments of screen time, with no lines to say and absolutely no pay in return.  It’s not hard to see why many filmmakers never bother trying to produce their work via the union route.  The sheer volume of submissions — all received in a matter of hours — was impressive.  In a way, though, having so many people to choose from was a blessing: when the time came to pick background talent, all I had to to do was compare our shooting schedule with people’s availability, and there were dozens of diverse faces to choose from.

Mind you, we fared very well with union submissions, too.  With resumes and photos and demo reels to use as a gauge, we created a shortlist of three or four names for every role we were casting in a matter of hours.  While we were open to the idea of holding some auditions, we were hoping that we could cast the seven actors we needed based on our knowledge of the local talent pool (it’s a healthy size in Ottawa, but not massive) and forego auditions altogether.  In this area, I found working with agents especially useful.  As an actor, my agent submits me for breakdowns on my behalf whenever she thinks there may be a good fit; the cool thing about this process is that I got to see how she does her job.  It’s also possible that she tried really hard because she knew I was doing the casting… but I won’t hold it against her! All of the local agencies submitted electronic packages to me, each with a slate of 30 or so actors hand-picked to fit the breakdown we wrote.  The submissions contained photos of the actors, and in all cases I could click on an actor’s name to have a better look at their resumes, profiles, and demo reels.  In several cases, phone conversations with the agent helped me delve more deeply into a particular actor’s interest, fit, and availability.  In cases where I didn’t know the actors whose names were submitted, being able to look at a demo reel online was crucial.  In fact, the decision on casting for the actress who portrayed our most challenging role was solidified based on the strength of her online demo reel.

Note to self: get a demo reel.

Patrick and I met on Tuesday evening, with about 14 hours to go before we were to start shooting our first scene.  Now, the pressure on shooting Wednesday’s scene was not as bad as it sounds, because it primarily involved roles that were already cast or on offer.  We focused on Thursday’s shoot, then: we went over all of my short lists, and finalized our choices for every role.  No auditions required.  All that was left was to confirm those people’s availability for the shoot, do up their contracts, and send them email with notes on their parts and what to wear to the set.

With everything in front of the camera set to go, we only had to worry about everything going on behind it.  Trivial, right?  Ha!