Sometimes Not Getting the Role Is the Best Thing That Can Happen

I’ve been working as an actress in TV and film for over 20 years, and one of the biggest things I’ve developed over that time is trust in my own instincts.

My own interpretation of a character.
My own understanding of a scene.
My own feeling for the tone.

But I don’t think I always had that confidence.

When you’re starting out as an actor, I think there is a balance between putting your own stamp on a self-tape and also showing casting that you understand what they are asking for.

This is why I often advise actors to send two takes when self-taping, if they have the option.

One take can be purely how YOU see the character and the scene. Make your choices. Follow your instincts. Show them something they perhaps haven’t thought of.

Then use the second take to follow the brief more closely, particularly if your interpretation is quite different from what has been suggested.

That way, you’re showing casting that you can take direction, but you’re also showing them what you bring to the role.

After 20 years, I’m slightly different.

I very rarely send two alternative takes anymore.

I’ve reached a point in my career where I often think:

This is how I see the character. This is the tone I think the scene needs. You either respond to it or you don’t.

And recently I had the perfect reminder of why I feel this way.

I recently auditioned for a TV drama

I sent a self-tape for a television drama and was later invited to a Zoom callback.

I didn’t get the role.

Of course, there is always that little bit of disappointment when you get further into the casting process. Once you get to a callback, it’s difficult not to start thinking:

Oh... maybe this one could actually happen.

Then, months later, I watched the finished programme and saw the character I had auditioned for.

And something quite interesting happened.

I realised I was actually glad I hadn’t got it.

My interpretation of the character was completely different

This is not about criticising the actor who ultimately played the role. They did their job, and we have absolutely no idea what conversations, direction or creative decisions happened once filming began.

But watching the finished programme, I realised that the overall interpretation of the character was completely different from mine.

The character knew they were doing something incredibly dangerous. They were betraying people in positions of power, and if they were discovered, the consequences could be fatal.

For me, the stakes of that situation were enormous.

My instinct was that underneath everything there needed to be fear. Panic. Adrenaline. The feeling of someone trying desperately to hold themselves together while knowing there might be no way back.

The finished version was much calmer and more contained.

And again, that could have been the direction given on set. It could have been a creative decision made by the director or producers. It could have changed during filming or in the edit.

As actors watching the finished product, we simply don’t know.

But what struck me was how differently I had understood the scene.

And instead of making me think, Oh God, I got it completely wrong, I actually thought:

No. I still believe in the choices I made.

My interpretation simply wasn’t the interpretation they ultimately chose for the programme.

And that is an important distinction.

The audition scene isn’t always the scene that ends up on screen

There was another interesting part to this experience.

The audition sides were really good.

There was so much drama in them. So much to play with. When I first read them, I immediately saw the potential of the character and the situation.

But by the time I watched the finished programme, the scene had been heavily cut.

A lot of the material I had responded to in the audition script simply wasn’t there anymore.

And I think this is something actors sometimes forget when we become emotionally attached to roles we audition for.

We imagine the finished role based on the audition sides sitting in front of us.

But that isn’t necessarily the role that will eventually appear on screen.

Scripts change.

Scenes get cut.

Characters change.

Directors have their own interpretation.

Producers have their own ideas.

Performances develop on set.

And then the edit can completely change the rhythm and emotional impact of a scene again.

The wonderful role you are imagining in your head when you send your self-tape may not actually be the role that eventually exists.

You don’t really know what you’ve “missed out” on

Actors spend so much time thinking about the jobs they didn’t get.

What if I had done something differently?

What if I had made another choice?

Maybe I should have sent another take.

Maybe I should have been less emotional.

Maybe I should have been more emotional.

Maybe I should have played it safer.

But seeing this particular role finished really cemented something I have felt for a long time:

We don’t really know what we’ve missed out on.

Because we don’t know what that job would actually have become.

We don’t know what direction we would have been given.

We don’t know how much of our performance would have survived the edit.

We don’t know whether we would have loved being on that set.

We don’t even know whether the character we imagined when reading the audition sides would have resembled the character that eventually appeared on screen.

All we really know is the version of the job we created in our heads.

This is why I believe in trusting your acting instincts

This doesn’t mean ignoring the brief.

Especially when you are starting out, I think it is incredibly important to understand what casting is asking for and to show that you can take direction.

But I also don’t believe the answer is trying to guess exactly what casting wants.

Because you can’t.

If ten actors receive exactly the same self-tape scene and all ten try to give the “correct” version, casting risks receiving ten very similar interpretations.

Your interpretation is part of what you are offering.

Your instincts are part of what makes you interesting.

Your life experience, imagination, humour, vulnerability, rhythm and understanding of human behaviour all influence the way you interpret a character.

That is part of your value as an actor.

And sometimes your interpretation simply won’t match the director’s vision.

That’s okay.

It doesn’t necessarily mean your audition was wrong.

It may simply mean:

Your version of the character wasn’t the version they wanted to make.

There is a huge difference between those two things.

After more than 20 years of working in TV and film, I would rather make a choice I believe in and not get the job than constantly second-guess myself trying to predict what somebody else wants.

Because sometimes, months later, you see the finished programme and realise:

Actually... I’m glad I played my audition exactly the way I did.

And perhaps that is one of the healthiest things we can learn as actors.

Do the work. Make your choices. Send the tape. And then let it go.

The rest was never really in your hands.

And if you have a self-tape coming up and would like a bit of support, you can always come and tape it with me. I can be your reader, help with direction if you need it, and make sure you leave with footage you’re happy to send. Find out about Self-Tape sessions.

Sending you big hugs,
Natalia
Owning It Acting Studio

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