*cue the horror movie soundtrack* (Patreon)

It's been a weird 72 hours, dear patrons.

I thought I'd be spending the next several weeks chipping away on various aspects of various circus & writing project in Toronto, but instead . . .

I booked a role on a small horror movie that’s shooting in Montréal, accepted the offer, and find myself sitting on a train on my way to that city as I write this. *blink blink* (!!!)

(((The usual NDA rules apply – can’t tell you much about the specifics of it, but I’ll ask the producers if I’m allowed to write about it in terms of generalities of the sort of character I’m playing and all that with you folks here, semi-privately, when I get my boots on the ground there and get a sense of the production’s style.)))

((( It’s not a mega-production, just to manage all of your expectations! But I'm still excited about it, to be clear. I’m pretty sure it’s destined for a streaming platform like Shudder (horror movie specific!) or something like that. No idea when it’ll air; I’ll let y’all know when I know, so we can collectively watch and cringe together, perhaps :-P )))

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Storytime [In which I continue to be flying by the seat of pants & stumbling through this whole working-as-an-actor thing from the weird position of being simultaneously experienced/familiar with certain things, from having done stunts, and also being an utter n00b with SO many things, on the acting side of things***]

***For example, I'm familiar with stunt categories ("ND", "Stunt Double", "Lead Double", "Stunt Actor", etc), but I have zero acting training, not many actor friends, and [up until this point in my life] not much reason to know much about the specifics of acting role categories.

When I received the offer from Motherland: Fort Salem to play the character of "M" back in Fall 2020, I had no idea what it meant to be a "recurring guest star", or that it was something of a big deal! I was just like, "Oh, cool." And then friends of mine who've been in the industry / acting side of things longer were like "THIS IS A BIG DEAL WHY AREN'T YOU FREAKING OUT."

At this point, my understanding has expanded to encompass the following, in case you're in the same boat as me and are curious about the particulars:

In general, 'background actors' won't have lines, and 'principal actors' will have lines; but there's lots of different subcategories of the latter, in TV and film. A guest star is 'below' a "lead" or "series regular",  who is generally a key character contracted for a whole series (even if they're not in every episode, or much of the movie), but it's above a "day player" (who often just has 1 or 2 lines, and a day or two of work -- the category that many working actors find themselves labouring in with audition after audition for the duration of their careers; and making a living doing-so, for the record! It's nothing to sneeze at, either). 

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Alright, enough of that tangent – let me continue with this story. 

So - we accepted the offer. I was like, "Yay! They liked my silly audition."

And that's about as much thought as I gave it.

Then, over the weekend, the production company emailed me that I had to complete a really weird, somewhat invasive 7-page medical-history-insurance form, and do a FaceTime assessment with a doctor on their payroll.

Weird, I thought. But … Okay.

I looked through the questions: there was standard medical history stuff, and a COVID form that was just a variation on plenty of forms I’ve signed for TV stuff over the last 2 years, but there was also questions on the form like: 

• “Have you, within the past 5 years, been disabled as a result of any illness of injury while working in any film or stage production?” Check yes or no; if yes, state full particulars, name of the production, and dates.




• ****Cackles in stunt performer******




• “Will you be performing any special physical activities in other productions during the time period of this production (e.g. running, climbing, weapon work, fight sequences, aerial, etc?). Check yes or no. If yes, please explain”




• ******Yes…Maybe….******* [might have another film project in June, it’s completely unknown/up in the air at the moment, but if it DOES come through, then it’ll involve ALL of those things lol, & I’ll have to start preparing for it during the shooting of this horror movie, somehow, in Montreal]




• “Will you be participating in any potentially hazardous activities or sports in your personal time during preproduction or principal photography of this film, including, but not limited to, auto/motorcycle racing, equestrian, gliding/flying/skydiving, mountain climbing, scuba diving, snow or water skiing, or other (Please specify). Check yes or no. If yes, please state frequency (daily, weekly, etc)




• ********Cackles in circus artist**********

I weighed the pros and cons of lying on the form about all of these things.

It's not really their business, I thought. But … if you get injured off-set and then it fucks with your ability to your job then … they could sue you. I cringed.

So, I answered honestly.

Whatever, I thought. This is what they get. I’m not NOT doing circus or getting ready for other projects during their project; they’re gonna have to deal with it.

I had grumbled to my partner that I thought this was particularly odd, as I’ve never had to do that ONCE in my … six or seven years in the film and television industry thus far … but it was also a weekend, so I couldn’t call anyone at the production to ask what it was all about, and time was of the essence, so I just went for it.

My partner responded: “Oh, that’s standard for Leads.”

Me: *blink blink* wait wut

Them: “Yeah, the production and their insurers basically want to make sure you’re not gonna keel over or go off the rails in the middle of shooting.”

Me: “They didn’t say anything about it being a lead role.” *Checks updated script that just landed in inbox*. “Oh …. Well damn.”

So — yeah?! SURPRISE?!

I'm focusing on memorizing my lines and building out the world of my character in my head so I'm prepared for the work that's about to begin, but there's a very unsettling feeling about this experience in that I'm jumping into things with both feet without being able to have a full, encompassing sense of what, exactly, it is that I'm doing, or the 'size'/importance of that work in relation to the scope of the entire project. 

Of course, that doesn't change much in terms of what I do on my end in order to feel prepared, in order to do the best that I'm able to do!  But ... it's still ... weird.

I suppose the argument can be made that it's better not to, in some cases, if one has a tendency of psyching themselves out when they find out something is *I M P O R T A N T*  but... there ya have it. I guess I just like to know what I'm getting into.

It gives me the false impression that I have marginally more control over things than I do.

And, I labour under the (potentially false) conception that if I know everything there is to know about something, then I can be appropriately excited about it and enjoy it the appropriate amount. (Yes, I know how silly that reads). When I don't have the whole picture, or when I feel like I'm unprepared, it's difficult for me to look forward to an experience or relax into enjoying what there is to enjoy from it. There's a life lesson hiding in there that I should probably try a little harder to learn and take to heart, I know.

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Here's a few other ~fun~ tidbits about this project adding to my general feeling of runaway-racehorse-oh-god-what-have-i-gotten-myself-into:

Hard Lesson Learned:

Don’t accept to work “local” on projects that you aren’t actually “Local” on.  

Allow me to explain – 

So, when you’re invited to work on a project that’s shooting somewhere other than where you live, there’s all sorts of union rules that dictate that a production puts the talent up in a hotel/accommodations, travels you there (plane, train, whatever), gives you a per diem, etc. That’s what happened when I did Motherland: Fort Salem for the last 2 years: all that swanky hotel living, the business-class flights, the shuttle rides from set to hotel and back again — all of that is stipulated in the union rules, and in my personal contract as a reflection of union standards.

But sometimes situations arise where a performer might be asked if they’re “willing to work local”.

This phrase means that you, ‘the talent’, agree to whatever your union-stipulated rate is for appearing on camera, but all other expenses are borne by you. You get yourself to the city, to and from the studio, take care of all your meals and incidentals, and put yourself up in an apartment/hotel/friend’s guest-room/etc. You have to evaluate this on a case-by-case basis: oftentimes, if it’s a short contract (e.g. they’re offering you 1 or 2 days on camera) then you’re going to lose money on the gig if you “work local” and you actually live out-of-town. But if it’s a longer contract, or a bigger role, then maybe it’s worth it to you.

In my case, after I received news I’d won the Barbette grant from the Canada Council for the Arts, I’d informed my agent that I’d be making Montréal my home base for much of the summer. I told him that I was willing to travel back to Toronto as needed for auditions or projects, but that to accomplish what I set out in my project pitch, I’d be in Montréal a lot.

“No problem,” he said. He listed my location on the casting calls as being in Toronto AND Montréal.

I recorded the self-tape for that audition around Thursday April 15th; we received an email from that production early the following week saying that they loved my read but were going to be casting from that shortlist depending on who was available to “Work Local”.

[Translation: We like your audition, we’d like to hire you, but our budget is tight & we’re gonna go with the person who isn’t gonna cost us anything extra in terms of food, travel, and a roof over their head.]

I weighed the pros and cons for myself:

• I needed to be in Montréal anyways for the grant, and I had a small accommodation budget for myself built into my Canada Council for the Arts grant that would offset some of my living costs anyways
• Working “local” on a project felt like a step backwards after working on a production like Motherland: Fort Salem (which did everything above-board / had a big budget / took care of everything); BUT —
• It would be my first feature film: I’ve heard it can be challenging to get into movies if you’ve done lots of TV work; my resume is not long when it comes to acting, but apparently working on movies is a much nicer (read: slower) pace of work than TV shows and it’s something I definitely want to try getting into (plus, the shooting schedules are often shorter, which is less disruptive for circus training & creation)
• I needed to be focusing on my Barbette grant during this period; but I also needed to balance that with taking film & TV opportunities where they come up, to keep building my resume and maintain a presence in the industry that sees me through the gaps between circus things…
• The role was actually pretty fun to read for; it would be something different to add to my acting reel, which (I’ve been told) is The Right Thing To Do; and horror is new territory for me too. Used to watch lots of horror movies in high school, and then I became a big chicken and couldn’t hack it anymore –– so there’s definitely an element of novelty and interest in the project for me there, too!
• The offer is only 6 to 8 days “on camera” –
• No idea what’s standard for movies; I’ve only done TV shows before, so I was like, "*shrug* okay!" Crunching the numbers with cost of living/transport in Montreal at the moment versus how much I’d earn from that contract, I’d still come out on top making a little bit of money; it also means I could do double-duty with my Canada Council grant and be plugging away on straps training & choreography with William, my coach, and generally doing the things towards that project that need to be gently chipped away at over the summer. (* Now, we’re still working/shooting in times of COVID; there’s fittings and COVID tests to consider too; I might end up needing to travel down to the difficult-to-access industrial area that the film studios are all in 3x/week for this — as in, though it’s not a heavy on-camera commitment, it COULD still be a clusterf**k in terms of scheduling).

I said “Yes” to working local in favour of doing my first feature film project ... and then nearly immediately regretted that decision :’) Turns out it's really stressful (and very expensive) to try to figure out where you're staying, how you're getting there, and how you're getting around in a city that isn't your hometown, at the start of peak tourism season.

Right now, I feel a little bit like I used to when I was 15 years old, when I'd spend 15 of my hard-earned dollars  from my first job*** on a 90-minute lesson up at my (terrifying) Welsh riding instructor's farm up in Oro Medonte on a given weekday . . .  That is, out-of-control, white-knuckling the reins on a nostril-flaring, mouth-foaming, thundering-hooved runaway-ex-race-horse, vascillating at lightning-speed back and forth between "OKAY I CAN DO IT" and "OH F**K I'M GONNA DIE FOR SURE".  

[***(a page at the Barrie Public Library, if you must know) (for the uninitiated in the dark, secret ways of public librarires, a 'page' is the poor minion who shelves all the books you return, for hours and hours and hours)]  

I’m no stranger to figuring out the ins-and-outs of living for semi-extended periods of time away from home, but it’s a different beast to do so with three days notice, and I’ve also come to the realization that on most of my trips I have a fairly singular directive: I’m travelling only to work on a show; I’m travelling only to go train; I’m travelling only to do a circus gig. Everything is happening all rolled together on this one, instead, and I’m a far less decisive/effective packer when it’s not a singular-directive trip, as it turns out.

My poor brain feels like an over-fried, scrambled egg:

Do I have the right circus equipment with me?

Do I have enough training clothes?

Do I have what I need to look presentable when I get to set?

How am I getting myself to set?

Okay there’s a bus – no, wait, the bus doesn’t go to THAT part of this giant film studio … drat. Okay, expensive Ubers it is?

No, maybe I should rent a car – Nope, never mind, that’s gonna be about $1500 for a month-long rental, I’ll pass on that.

Can I bike? Nope, only highways lead to the studio. Okay, Ubers it is.

Okay wait, you have to fly to Tampa, Florida in the middle of May for the QFX / Motherland Fort Salem convention – what do you wear to a convention?

You should probably pack things to look presentable.

Oh shit, all your presentable stuff is for Canadian weather, not sweaty hot Florida weather. Loud bowling shirts it is? Gonna have to be good enough, that’s what I’ve got.

And so on.

But – all of this anxiety-tinged hand-wringing aside . . .

All my plants are watered; someone’s got keys to water ‘em more as time goes on.

The windows in my apartment are closed, the garbage and the recycling are taken out, the clutter has all been shoved into doom-bags and doom-boxes and shoved into the backs of closets so that it has the illusion of looking nice and tidy whenever I do get to go back home.

I don’t have a shooting schedule yet, so I have no idea when I can schedule in with my straps coach yet, but hopefully that’ll be rectified soon. Same for scheduling in with sports massage appointments, haircuts,

I’ve sorted out my accommodations, have an idea of how I’ll be getting around, and have my first costume fitting tomorrow (Tuesday) at 5pm.

*deep breath*

It's happening.

I'm doing my best, and I'm along for the ride.  

It's a new adventure, Russian-nesting-doll'd inside other (circus) adventures that I was already planning on embarking on.

And I'm doing my best to acclimate as quickly as I can to all of these unresolved variables so I can charge forward with enthusiasm and lightheartedness.

(Well –– off-camera, anyways. It IS a horror movie *wink*)

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Stay strange & wonderful --

XOXOXO Ess