claytoncast

It is the first week of January. The agent’s office has been open for roughly the length of a kettle boil and already — ding — the first self-tape of the year arrives. Covid may be history, but self-tapes are clearly immortal, like cockroaches and Keith Richards. Actors are divided. Some loathe them. Some tolerate them. Most of us quietly question when “turn your flat into a television studio” became part of the job description. Ring light, neutral wall, no sign of personal happiness in frame. Personally, I don’t mind them. Casting gets to see actual acting, not just a headshot where I look either startled or mildly guilty. And sometimes — brace yourself — a job follows. I’ve had two old-fashioned, in-the-room meetings this year. Both became jobs. I’ve had rather more self-tapes that became… character-building. This latest one was for a show I genuinely love, heading into season two. Good character description. Promising notes. Then the script arrived: four pages, four characters, a...