Running On Empty

I started thinking about the time I played the sole character in a movie I wrote, “Running on Empty” and the director told me not to wear any make-up. The character I played was grieving deeply due to the sudden loss of her child and the last thing she cared about was her physical appearance. I don’t mean wearing make-up to seem like you’re not wearing any make-up, where they smooth out any imperfections. I mean hair scraped back and my face completely bare. She didn’t even want to hire a make up artist. “Whaaaaaat? No make up artist?” I was horrified. I had been suffering with sporadic skin abnormalities for a few years. My face typically was covered with thick make-up whenever I went out in public. I was so deeply insecure about my skin issues I even wore make-up to the gym which was gross and uncomfortable. I tried to shake it off but the closer it came to shooting day I became more and more anxious. I attempted to convince Elizabeth that it wasn’t a smart idea for my character to be make-up less, although I knew deep down inside she was right. I couldn’t understand why I kept bursting into tears sporadically and continually felt panicked. I’d do whatever needed to be done to reveal my character’s truth. I was an actor dammit!

That was after all what mattered... Right?

Then it hit me… I still wanted to look pretty. This would be forever etched onto the screen and I wanted to look good. “Oh God, what would people say?” I kept thinking over and over. Apparently I wasn’t the die hard actor I thought I was. I had to face some hard truths about how I saw myself and also why I wanted to be an actor in the first place. Was it just to get applause and hear people say “You looked great?” It wasn’t a surprise the industry favored the young and beautiful. I had always felt severely lacking in both departments. For as long as I can remember I compared myself to gorgeous, talented women and I felt I came up short, disliking myself intensely in the process.

I’d love to say after deep introspection it dawned on me I wanted to be an actor for more noble reasons but honestly when we started filming, I didn’t have a clue why I was doing it. I chose to arrive on set ready to work and commit to the experience, regardless.

AND OH WHAT AN EXPERIENCE IT WAS.

As days went on, I felt the layers of self doubt and insecurities peel away, then return with a bang and diminish once again. It was thrilling and terrifying but equally liberating. I felt incredibly vulnerable but I also felt free. I didn’t give a fuck about how I looked or what anyone thought. I loved every moment of being this woman, inside and out.

And in that moment I released myself from the desire to have people like what I do, what I look like or like me.

I am an actor. I like what I do. I like the way I look. And I like me.

That’s all that matters.

The Power Of Film

I once heard a famous actress at a party scoff, “I mean for God’s sake, we’re not saving lives.” This was expressed to an equally acclaimed colleague, who nodded furiously in agreement. A moment earlier they had both watched as an overzealous fan practically prostrated himself at the star’s feet while waxing lyrical about her latest movie.

I thought about it for a moment…

On the surface she seemed correct. Yes, there were countless other professions far more necessary and noteworthy than that of a performer. However, I knew both that film had changed my life and that I had sacrificed a great deal to be an actress. On numerous occasions I have found myself with no money, no food and no home. To achieve my goals as an artist, I have had to find a way, some way, any way in the midst of great uncertainty, humiliation and emotional turmoil. For her to have so casually belittled our profession (and one of her fans) infuriated me. Surely this woman, more than anyone, should know how difficult it is to succeed in such a ruthless and unforgiving industry. Her statement reeked of the blindness of privilege. I surmised her abundant wealth and status must somehow be short circuiting her noggin and decided to ponder on it no more. At the same time, as I was removing my make-up later that night, I wondered: what if what the actress said was true on some level?

My mind went back to when I was a young girl at the theatre in South Africa watching Tim Robbins’s “Dead Man Walking” for the first time. I, at the time, one hundred percent believed in capital punishment - right up until the moment I saw Sean Penn, playing a rapist and a murderer, walking to his own death, as ordered by the state. How the film managed to fully show the man’s heinous crimes, yet simultaneously pack a sizeable gut punch and mind metamorphosis, is still beyond my comprehension.

It certainly, in two hours, altered my worldview and absolutely changed my life. As have many films after that.

I think the better question here is “Should we as performers be treated like deities?” Absolutely not. But can great actors along with a brilliant script, director and crew, create something that enlightens, educates and has the ability to bring additional perspectives? Absolutely.

And maybe that is life saving.