Being an Actor: Tough Love, Good Advice: 'Standing huddled in an outdoor corridor, enjoying the stunning June rainstorms, a group of actors congregated this week to receive criticism from a West End director..'

Standing huddled in an outdoor corridor, enjoying the stunning June rainstorms, a group of actors congregated this week to receive criticism from a West End director. An odd thing, putting yourself through those nerves without the necessity and paying for the privilege; but the post drama school workshop is actually a great luxury for us working actors. And whether one is sent away scolded or praised, the feeling is always one of buoyancy and perseverance.

If for example, said director/casting director/generally important industry person tells you that your body language is closed off – this is a step forward. Being given an honest note like “Uncross your arms”, can completely revolutionise your future auditions and consequently, your chances at the job. It’s always helpful to hear general pointers such as “make a bold character choice and go for it”; or more pertinently, “don’t be dull”, but a direct shot to the heart certainly gets the adrenaline pumping, and the mind focused. I was an onlooker for this particular session, but I witnessed the good humour with which notes were received and faults apologised for. One friend was told that the nerves completely swallowed her alive, and no longer able to contain herself after this initial quietude she bellowed “I know, I’m so sorry, I’m such an idiot..” and then guffawed so loudly and for so long that it seemed incomprehensible that she had just been told to come out of her shell.

The fact is, the situation will often squash you. You will imagine blanking on your lines, saying something dreadful; or often just be stifled by a simple fear of being told that you weren’t the most impressive performer the VIP has ever seen. And then the audition (good, bad or repulsive), and finally the relief. Unfortunately it is often the relief stage in which a person will really be themselves, no longer savaged by the chains of performer paranoia, no longer blinded by the light of that very impressive individual in front of them. So, not only is it important to attend these sessions in order to confront your own unhelpful idiosyncrasies, but also to de-sensitise yourself to the Goliaths of the industry. Yes, they may tell you to sort out your sibilance or completely re-think your body posture, but they will also most probably reveal themselves to be a human being rather than the omnipotent monster you have envisaged.

When I failed my driving test (the second time) and swore blue at myself, the driving examiner told me not to worry, and that he was called Barry, and I needed to pull over now please. The moment he revealed his name (and that embarrassingly, he was from the neighbouring village so knew my family), I was no longer afraid. My clutch leg ceased the little monkey dance it had been so ardently performing, and the sweat stopped collecting on my forehead. Had I needed to drive properly, I probably could have done so at that point. Instead, I sat staring at the prison gates we had had to alight at, and waited whilst he walked back to the test centre to retrieve my bemused instructor. Next time round, I passed – and had a lovely chat with the examiner about his dog. I hope the same applies should you get that call from Bill Kenwright (probably doesn’t have a mutt though); remember that he is mortal, that you need to keep your arms uncrossed for example, and as much as possible – relax into the situation and try your best to be yourself.