Foreword by Richard Dreyfuss

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In 1976 or ‘77, I taught a class for ten weeks called “How to be an Unemployed Actor in Los Angeles.” I interviewed casting directors and agents and I taught the kids how to schmooze people, what the relationships are. I taught them that on an interview, your job is two-fold: to either get the job or to be remembered. I told them that I never brought a picture or a résumé because I figured that if I couldn’t get casting directors to remember me from my presence in the room, nothing I wrote down on a piece of paper was going to make a bit of difference. I would be provocative and charming and funny. You want to get agents and casting directors to the point where they wake up at three o’clock in the morning and say, “I wish I could get Richard a job today.” Acting is based on the showing of a personality. It’s not just whether or not you can be the character. Can this vivid person show me this character through their own vivid personality?

Sometimes, during a conversation with a casting director on an audition, you can feel the audition slipping away. They might be asking you questions about yourself and you can actually start to feel their indifference. That’s when I would say, “Excuse me, let me read this scene for you because that’s what I do best. I’m the best actor you’re going to see today so I might as well read it.” And then I’d read it. Even if I wasn’t the best one, they’re going to remember I said that. And I’d do that often. My father once said, “Don’t you ever apologize for who you are! EVER!” I never, ever walked in saying, “Oh God, you’re so great for seeing me.”

My primary ambition at a very early age was to be a great actor. I knew fame was part of that and I wanted it, but I didn’t want that first. So, if I was going to write my life story, I would have said the Academy Award was a goal that was best kept in front of me. I liked the pursuit more than the arrival. What I loved in those days—and still love—was to watch as many of the films as I could. I would watch films over and over and over again. There were films shown thirteen times a week on Channel 9 and Channel 13. I would watch Spencer Tracy, Charles Laughton, Jimmy Stewart, Cary Grant or whoever it was over and over. And I made no bones about the fact that I was imitating some of them. I would incorporate their stuff. I did that all the time. I was addicted to my ambition and to my love of theatre and acting. It was ferocious. I’m much better when I’m hungry for something and trying to get it than I am having attained it and being there.

Concerning great screen acting, I believe that there is something mysterious that occurs between a camera, film and an audience. There’s a magic involved. I think part of it has to do with a willingness to be known emotionally . . . you know, kids these days seem to think that the moments when they’re working are all that there is ... then where is the rest of your life? I would say this—you’ve gotta learn patience; you’ve gotta learn enjoyment. Try to parse your ambition so it doesn’t swallow up the rest of your life. And finally, if you want to be an actor, act. It’s really simple. The more you act, the better you get. Go to classes. Go to workshops. Act more hours of the day than not. Act for free. If you’re lucky, every once in awhile, you’ll get paid. Think of the early years of your life as an apprenticeship. Don’t think you’re going to be handed your stardom. But do consider what you’re going to do if you get it.

—Richard Dreyfuss