Sometimes, I feel vague ethical twinges about submitting actors for parts. I get a bit media-deterministic in my wilder moments, and I figure it can't be good that every TV/corporate training/film role requires a stereotype.
Also - gems like these, that you find in almost every casting breakdown -
"actor should have neutral accent" - they mean RP, tinged with Estuary English, but not enough to terrify. They don't say that, because they mean That's How I Talk, So It Must Be Neutral, The Default Human Is The London Yuppie, Yah Boo Sucks To You Scum.
"actor can be white or ethnic" - this means I Have Absorbed That Blatant Tokenism Will Get Me A Cool Grand From The Arts Council, But Sadly, I Am A Racist, Illiterate Fuckwit.
(Incidentally, when my friend D beekept, which is now a word, somebody said to him "These are ethnic bees. They are from Africa". I'm assuming that that person didn't mean it in a beautiful, Alice-Walker-esque, Africa-is-the-mother-of-us-all way).
Far, far worse ones are common - we just haven't had any in recently, so I can't source current examples.
Yes, I am having a boring day.
My friend Ed told me last night that he is looking for a sheep. If you happen to have a spare one, please do tell me.
I got cornered, and told off (by someone I don't know) on Saturday, because she learned that I was changing my name. She kept repeating "But (old name) is such a pretty name!" with a look in her eyes that said I Will Eat Your Soul.
Hagrid bore my oh-so-decidedly unpretty self away, laughing at my expression of utter puzzlement. "Well, that's you told" he said.
This is vaguely applicable.
Showing posts with label thespianism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thespianism. Show all posts
Monday, 8 September 2008
Monday, 1 September 2008
Casting directors...
Are like very small children with ADD in the Shiny Land of Shiny.
I'll carefully craft a submission for, I don't know, a 25-year-old South Asian slim, stunning one-legged female plumber who can sing and play the barrel-organ, and they finally pick a tone-deaf, pasty John Prescott clone with five legs.
And am I the only one who dies a little inside when asked for a "named" actor? 'Cause actors are actually given names at birth, like everybody else - they're not like a modified Inuit tribe where, instead of getting a name at two or so, you only get it once you've gone through the rite of passage that is appearing in a bloody awful soap?
I'll carefully craft a submission for, I don't know, a 25-year-old South Asian slim, stunning one-legged female plumber who can sing and play the barrel-organ, and they finally pick a tone-deaf, pasty John Prescott clone with five legs.
And am I the only one who dies a little inside when asked for a "named" actor? 'Cause actors are actually given names at birth, like everybody else - they're not like a modified Inuit tribe where, instead of getting a name at two or so, you only get it once you've gone through the rite of passage that is appearing in a bloody awful soap?
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