“The years teach much which the days never know.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
A decade ago, I signed up for an acting class and it’s fair to say it changed the course of my life.
Here’s 10 things I didn’t know 10 years ago, when I went through that sliding door.
1. Don’t wait for someone to anoint you – become the thing
What’s your dream job? Fair enough, there’s no such thing. But, let’s say you won the EuroMillions tomorrow, what would you do for 8 hours a day, given that you don’t have to worry about cash?
For most of us, if we landed that kind of f*ck off cash, there’d be a nice, bells and whistles holiday, for starters. A fancy car or two, pay off the mortgage, sort out the family or actually buy a gaff. All that good stuff.
But then, what?
I’d wager out of the good people reading this, at least half are in jobs they’d jack in the morning if they won the lotto. But, say you didn’t win the lotto, would you go after that thing you’d do for free?
Nobody is going to pay you to go do what you really want to do. Not straight away anyway. You’d have to become your job title first. Probably be a bit crap at it and get better over time, inch by inch. And then, after a while, someone might start paying you.
I didn’t understand that when I jacked in my second job in 18 months. I acted for free for nearly 5 years before I got my first TV job and a pay check. I had to become the thing first before I was the thing.
“If you want to be a writer, stop being a personal assistant. Like, you can't learn to be a writer if you're spending 15 hours a day taking care of somebody. You need to go live somewhere where you have a really low overhead and dedicate yourself for years learning how to do this.”
True Detective creator, Nic Pizzolatto
2. It’s not about talent – it’s about process
In my game, talent gets a lot of air time. And I get it. TV and film, to me at least, has a bit of magic about it. Theatre, too. We’re all in on the gag, that this is make-believe. But, it doesn’t stop us from believing. And sometimes, a few words from a character’s mouth or a look stops us dead in our tracks. It speaks to us in some profound way. Or, it’s just funny as f*ck. It can be terrible, too. All of the above.
So, when you’re starting out, everyone who has been doing it a long time can seem otherworldly. Like, they possess some magic trinket, potion or charm that leaves the masses spell-bound. Maybe they’re just born with it.
A decade ago, I believed in the talent thing and wondered if I had ‘it’.
What I know now is that, as Atomic Habits author James Clear puts it, my outcomes are a lagging measure of my habits. And when I think back to my hurling days, my first acting teacher, I know that mastery requires patience. The hurlers I was in awe of growing up - Pat Malone, Richard Burke - did extraordinary things on a hurling field. But, those extraordinary moments were years, decades in the making. And flashed by in a matter of seconds. Acting is no different.
“‘Talent’ is one common name for this quality; sometimes we talk of a ‘gift’, or of ‘natural ability.’ These terms are generally used to mystify the essentially mundane processes of achievement in sports, keeping us away from a realistic analysis of the actual factors creating superlative performances and protecting us from a sense of responsibility for our own outcomes.”
Daniel Chambliss, The Mundanity of Excellence
3. Nothing is ever linear
I never heard of a thing called DC01. But, chances are you own one or we both know some upwardly mobile type that does. The thing about DC01 is it took five years and 5,127 prototypes to make. But, version 5,127 was a first. The world’s first bagless vacuum cleaner that worked. And has since sold by the freight load. Making John Dyson a household name and bags of cash.
Everyone loves a vanity metric, right? For me, it’s my IMDBPro star meter. The fact the word star is in the name is probably the kryptonite that gets my vanity every time. If it was just called the meter, I probably wouldn’t bother my hole with it.
Anyway, here’s what it looks like over the last three months.
Up and down more than your favourite crypto currency. And here’s what it looks like since the ticker started in 2014.
Very gradual and broadly going in the right direction.
Ten years ago, I thought I’d have landed numerous feature films by now. I’ve just completed my first one - Stockholm Bloodbath - last January. The version of me ten years ago needed to chill out.
It will always take longer than you think, kiddo.
“There is no such thing as a quantum leap. There is only dogged persistence—and in the end you make it look like a quantum leap.”
James Dyson
4. It’s the people, stupid
“It’s the economy, stupid.” When James Carville, strategist of Bill Clinton’s successful 1992 presidential campaign, coined that phrase, there’s no way he could have known the legs it would have.
Apparently, it was meant to remind voters that the campaign was being waged in the middle of a recession. Even though 90% of the country approved of George Bush Senior a year before the 1992 election, Clinton famously carried the ballot box. How things might have turned out differently for a young intern called Monica Lewinsky had James Carville kept his trap shut. I guess we’ll never know.
Anyway, I used to get woeful frustrated when I wasn’t getting ‘into the room’ for auditions. Now, I get frustrated for not ‘getting into a zoom’. How times have changed! I took it personally. Like, very personally.
But, when Charlotte Thornton wised me up to the fact that in any walk of life people only work with people they know, like and trust, it hit me like a train. It’s obvious, right? People might know a known unknown, but would they like and trust them? Never mind an unknown unknown.
This July, that diamond of a Cork man Cillian Murphy will play the title role in Christopher Nolan’s much anticipated epic Oppenheimer. He first worked with Nolan in 2005 in Batman Begins. This will be his fifth film with Nolan.
Could anyone else play Oppenheimer? Sure. Christopher Nolan can pick up the phone to any actor in the world. But, he chose Cillian Murphy.
“You came out to L.A. for the screen test and we had dinner at a hotel. I felt an immediate connection. I felt like, this is somebody that I want to work with, somebody who has an interesting take on things creatively.”
Christopher Nolan speaking to Cillian Murphy recalling their first meeting in 2004.
5. Don’t rush – play the long game
I remember cornering a casting director after a casting workshop once, one of the first dozen or so I attended in London. For the uninitiated, it’s a workshop with - you guessed it - a casting director and a room full of maybe twenty actors. So, a lot of supply and a minimal amount of demand.
Coming to the end of my ‘lovely day for it’ patter, I was about to launch into my pick me pitch.
Me: A mate and former colleague of yours at the BBC speaks very highly of you.
Casting director: Oh, that’s nice…. Who was that?
Perfectly reasonable follow-up question for which I was perfectly unprepared for. Because I didn’t have a mate at the Beeb. Even I could see her bullsh*t detector going off.
In order to meet people who will eventually know, like and trust you, you have to network. Most of us dread it. Go to any conference or event and you can spot the desperado a mile off. The guy constantly scanning the room and even when he’s talking to you, he’s on the hunt for some game changer of a golden goose.
I don’t know about you, but I hate that feeling. A kind of short-term-ist ball game that makes me feel queasy.
The 4-day work week guy, Tim Ferriss’ speech at South by South West (SXSW) in 2007 has a ballsy title: How to build a world class network. I’d highly recommend a listen or watch. But, in these time poor times, you probably won’t, so let me break it down for ya. His tips for building a world class network can be summed up as: (i) don’t be a d*ck and don’t dismiss anyone (ii) don’t rush and (iii) play the long game.
I decided to test that theory. So, in March, I maxed out the credit card and went to SXSW in Austin, Texas.
I emailed a film director I met there about a month later and, in his reply, he added: ‘I had no idea you were an actor!’ We had bumped into each other queuing at a bar and just started chatting, while clinging for dear life to our complimentary drink ticket stubs. His first feature film was debuting at the festival the following day, so we just chatted about what an achievement that was for him – most film ideas never leave people’s heads. And he invited me along.
As a local Texas guy, the audience gave him and his cast and crew a rapturous welcome. The energy in that theatre was life-affirmingly good - and this was midday on a bloody Tuesday. I met him after, shook his hand and congratulated him. I had been genuinely moved by what I saw.
It felt good not to be giving it the hard sell. And, it felt good to have gone home with one genuine human connection, as opposed to a pocketful of business cards.
“Don’t dismiss people…everyone has the potential to get you a cover story in the New York Times.”
Tim Ferriss
6. Nobody knows anything
MGM Studios were convinced Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid wouldn’t work. Fox studios were convinced The Princess Bride couldn’t and shouldn’t work. And nobody thought a nobody called Sylvester Stallone should play somebody called Rocky.
Movie folklore is littered with conventional wisdom being turned upside down. One of the most memorable takeaways from William Goldman’s Adventures in the Screen Trade was that ‘nobody knows anything.’
Ten years ago, I thought the middlemen and those established in the game, those who talked a lot, had the answers. In the intervening decade, Donald Trump’s presidency, a global pandemic and war in Europe reminded me they don’t.
They really don’t know anything. And I know even less.
“No one has had so much divine favour, that they could guarantee themselves tomorrow.”
Seneca
7. You can’t be no one else
They say, starting out, Bob Dylan wanted to be Woody Guthrie, Katie Taylor wanted to be Muhammad Ali and Charles Manson wanted to be Jesus.
When I first picked up a hurl, I wanted to be like my father. I can’t remember what actor I wanted to be starting out. Paul Newman, to me, is still the essence of cool, but Pat Shortt’s performance in Garage is so layered and vulnerable, there are days I still find myself daydreaming about that character.
When you start out as an actor, you have to get some head shots. Basically, CV photos. So much of casting an actor can be about a certain ‘look’. On your first time round the rodeo, you generally have a half a dozen photos that depict you as everything from a lollipop man to an eskimo. Cover all the bases kind of thing.
The last time I got some headshots done with the brilliant Ruth Crafer, she said to me: ‘I’d say you’re not everyone’s cup of tea, are ya?’
Now, that could be a compliment or a putdown, whichever way you decide to look at it. But, there’s hard won wisdom in there. You can’t be everything to everyone. So, you might as well be yourself. At least then you’ll attract those who like your cup of Earl Grey.
And to hell or to Connacht with the rest of them.
“You need to be yourself, you can’t be no one else.”
Opening lines to Oasis’ Supersonic from their debut album Definitely Maybe.
8. It takes a tribe
Have you heard that Orson Welles quote? It’s one of my favourites. And it’s so true. Whether you’re making an indie short-film or Batman, it’s a team game. Starting out, I thought acting was like the egg and spoon. On your marks, ready, head down and go.
In the early days, I found a lot of guys who talked the talk. But, when it came to the walk, I could name a handful that I actually made stuff with. Actual work, be it on a stage or on a screen. It’s the only way you can learn – by doing.
So, for sure, finding your tribe is important.
But, there’s another tribe I’ve come to appreciate all the more lately. Since jumping lane a decade ago, a plethora of people have sprung up to smooth over the cracks. They’re not setting up lights or carrying a camera, but their support has made all the difference.
Those who let you crash in the spare room, those who throw you a few quid for a play or #honesty, knowing the chances of getting it back are slim. Those who are willing you to stay in the ring. Without them, I’d have asked EirGrid for my old job back long ago.
If it takes a village to raise an idiot, then I am standing on the shoulders of giants.
“A writer needs a pen, an artist needs a brush, but a filmmaker needs an army.”
Orson Welles
9. Nobody gives a f*ck
Have you ever done an open-mic stand-up comedy nite? As an exercise in getting out of your comfort zone, forget the bungee jump. Walk onto a stage, grab a mic, stand under the spotlight and try to make a room full of strangers laugh. It’s the purest adrenaline buzz you can get for free.
Funny thing is, everyone who does it first worries about dying on their ass. Let’s say you signed up to the Lion’s Den Open Mic nite in Piccadilly circus tonite. You’ll get 5 minutes and not a millisecond more. Naturally, you’d be bricking it. What if they don’t laugh? How will I cope with the skin-crawling embarrassment of that?
And when you’re up there, you’ll get a muted enough response. Not because of your lack of punchline gold, but because mostly everyone else in the audience of a dozen or so people is waiting for their 5 minutes to shine. And they’re bricking it too. And during that punchline you were sure was a winner, they’re just reciting their own set in their head.
Ten years ago, I thought what I was doing occupied a far bigger proportion of people’s bandwidth than it does. Be that an audience, people whose opinion I might have valued, or someone watching my-blink-and-you’ll-miss-it bit on the telly.
Today, waiting in the wings, I get nervous for sure but I don’t worry . The last thing I remind myself of before I plant a foot on any stage is nobody gives a f*ck.
And there’s a hard won freedom in that.
“We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorised and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.”
Charles Bukowski
10. Comparison really is a thief
There are days I wonder where the last decade has gone. Naturally, we measure our lives and ourselves by certain metrics. It’s how we keep score.
Between me and you, when I give myself a hard time about owning absolutely nothing - no house, no car, not even a smart watch - I have to remind myself of a simple question.
How else would I have spent the last 10 years?
Any comparison with anyone else’s life, gaff or achievements in that time is worthless. As much as I admire Cillian Murphy, I can’t have his career (or those cheekbones).
My road is my road. And yours is yours.
“Comparison is the thief of joy.”
Teddy Roosevelt
Here’s to the next decade.
Thanks for reading.
Cracking read, Niall!