CHAPTER 9
Transformation

“So when I went to my artists and my business partners and I said that I wanted to retire they were confused. I said, ‘I'm gonna be an athlete.’ ‘What does that mean, Charlie? 29 years old, 300 pounds, you're gonna be an athlete?’ ‘Yes. Because that was my dream that I buried when I was a little kid.’”

—Charlie “Rocket” Jabaley, Entrepreneur, Speaker, Nike Athlete

One of the most inspiring things about hosting a podcast about resilience is sitting face to face with individuals who have transformed their lives, and the lives of those around them, in dramatic fashion. While each chapter in this book touches upon various aspects of surviving and thriving, the underlying theme is really that of transformation. At its core, transformation is about adapting and allowing aspects of ourselves that are no longer serving us to die while simultaneously cultivating emerging aspects of self to move us in new directions. By transforming ourselves, we give ourselves access to that which we previously may not have even realized was available to us.

The Caterpillar, the Cocoon, and the Butterfly

The transformation of a caterpillar into a butterfly is an awesome feat of nature. Such a metamorphosis reflects the potential for change in all of us. The fact that a living being can go from being a hairy, 16-legged furry creature that inches along almost imperceptibly by contorting its rotund body with extreme effort and transform into a multicolored, intricately patterned, lithe being capable of flight is cause for awe and optimism. Many people go through their entire lives convincing themselves that they don't have the potential for that kind of change, or any change in some instances, for a variety of reasons. At the root of every one of those reasons is fear. It is through the surrender process I discussed in the previous chapter, and embracing the fear of the unknown, that we can emerge from our own cocoons and transform ourselves into what we always hoped to be.

For simplicity's sake, I'd like to break those who fear change and the potential for transformation into three groups. The first group, despite seeing examples of change all around them, do not believe that change is possible for them. The second group, even if they believe change is possible for them, complain that they do not have access to people with the techniques, both physical and psychological, to guide them to what they need to do in order to change. In today's day and age, using lack of access as an excuse to avoid change gets thinner by the minute with the abundance around us—not to mention what's at our fingertips just by clicking a link. In most cases, that is exactly what it is: an excuse. The third group of people believe that change is possible for them and that they have access to resources and people with techniques to help them change, but they still don't act on that belief or knowledge, because they fear the feelings that would ensue if they actually tried their best and still failed to reach their goal.

I must admit that I have been in all three of these camps at one time or another, and still find myself in them at times. Luckily, with a lot of work, I'm finding myself increasingly capable of positive change. But I have by no means graduated from this struggle. If you look at my story of physical transformation in Chapter 4, Discipline and Training, I mentioned the reason that story is noteworthy is because I had tried to transform my body so many other times in the past and failed. It is much easier to look around at high achievers and tell yourself that they are just lucky because they “have it all.” It's not true, but it's easier than paying painstakingly detailed attention to your own actions and changing them where necessary.

And that's what must be done in order to optimize your results and achieve whatever it is that you're after. So, if you're looking for an easy way to change and attain everything you've ever wanted, I'm afraid you're out of luck. Instead, let me give you a tip I learned from a master of transformation, former 10,000 NOs guest Don Saladino.

Saladino is known for transforming the bodies of some of the biggest names in Hollywood. In preparing them to play superheroes, he has helped actors like Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds become Wolverine and Deadpool, respectively. He helped Blake Lively get back in fighting shape after she gave birth twice, and helped Liev Schreiber believably kick butt as Ray Donovan. In fact, when Blake Lively showed up early for her usual workout with Saladino, I was able to ask her if he follows all of the principles he had just told me he uses. Here's what she had to say:

“He really understands the person he's training and their personal needs. So, beyond what your fitness goals are, he understands what's important to you. So you don't feel like, ‘I'm gonna come in here and I'm gonna have to give up everything I love in order to achieve my goals.’ You feel like, ‘I can do this. I can stick with it.’ He trains everyone differently because everyone has different goals.”

—Blake Lively, Actor, The Town, Gossip Girl

While those famous names certainly help Saladino's cause in terms of attracting more business, what he's most proud of, and what Lively made a point of mentioning, is the work he does with people who are not famous, particularly those who are obese and struggling to accomplish even basic physical tasks. Saladino told me that one of the biggest factors in determining not only one's ability to transform, but also one's ability to maintain said transformation, was doing less. He shared that most people come to his gym, excitement in their eyes, willing to do whatever it takes. They train every day, all day, and weigh their food down to the gram. And, while this may be what Saladino does with his superstars after they've already been in a routine with him for a long time and worked up to this load, it can spell death to the average person's training regimen.

Saladino preaches that “If you drink four glasses of wine every Friday night … just start out by limiting yourself to three.” He maintains that this “easy tweak” is not so hard to pull off. The approach of gradual adjustments rather than going cold turkey is intended to build confidence. Confidence builds excitement. Excitement builds energy. Energy boosts daily routines. Higher quality daily routines will produce better results. Better results will build confidence, and so on and so on. Using Saladino's principles, clients find themselves in an upward spiral that actually builds their momentum as they come closer to their goals rather than burning them out. And because the changes are made incrementally, they tend not to fall apart as quickly as the person who went from flab to six-pack in 45 days.

“It's like the New Year's resolution. People dive into this stuff and they feel like it's all or nothing. People don't want to hear that sometimes the best approach is to take a long time. When you hear these people say, ‘Oh, the six-week program …’ Can it work? Sure. But look at all the people who weren't able to hold onto it.”

—Don Saladino, Strength Coach, Entrepreneur

Yes, Saladino admits, people will sometimes take a step back after taking two steps forward. But this gradual approach to change can guard clients against major setbacks. When someone focuses on these minor changes more than worrying about how their transformation appears to everyone else, they eventually look in the mirror and find a butterfly staring back at them where a caterpillar once stood.

There Are No Small Parts, Only Small Actors

An obvious topic for an actor to cover when discussing transformation is the process of transforming oneself for a role. When you look at chameleons like Gary Oldman, Christian Bale, or Sam Rockwell, with their almost supernatural abilities to appear unrecognizable from themselves or their past roles, acting transformations can look like magic to an outsider. But, just as with physical transformations, when you break them down you realize that they are simply the result of very pragmatic and actionable choices that, compounded by time and aided by other professionals, add up to something that appears to be otherworldly. Actually, there is a bit of “other-world magic” that usually shows up in the best instances, but only gets the invite after all the hard work has been done.

I am fortunate enough to be acquainted with Sam Rockwell. When his name comes up, the comments I hear from moviegoers generally include astonishment at his transformational overhauls from role to role. While it's easy to just pass Rockwell off as “naturally gifted” or “lucky to get the roles he gets,” that is not the whole story. Of course, he has gifts, which is why his performances for his recent turns in Vice, Fosse/Verdon, and Three Billboards in Ebbing, Missouri scored him an Oscar nomination, an Emmy nomination, and an Oscar win for Best Supporting Actor, respectively. But he also has an insane work ethic, and there is a focus and incremental transformation that takes place over time as a result of it.

“It has rigor in it. It has discipline and rigor. It's not just show up and let's see what happens. [This method] makes you responsible. And it really puts into the body, through practice, practice, practice, practice this thing that the work eventually becomes inevitable.”

—Terry Knickerbocker, Acting Coach

Much like Jay Ferruggia's advice when I asked him to help me transform my body for Huge in France, making good choices is what separates the masters from the masses, regardless of one's chosen profession. Jay's laser-sharp guidance on my originally scattered goals narrowed my focus and encouraged me to only change one thing at a time. Rockwell begins his approach in the same way, starting slow and building up from there. My friend Chris Messina invited me to read David Mamet's American Buffalo with him and Sam because Rockwell was preparing for a run of the play on Broadway in the spring of 2020. Even though it was only November 2019, Rockwell had already spent a lot of time with the script.

Reading with talents like Rockwell and Messina is always a pleasure. What is important for the purposes of this chapter, though, was Rockwell's relationship to the material. He knew that he was still light-years away from understanding his character the way he would understand him months later when the show opened. He expressed anxiety about reading it before we began. And yet, once we started, even at that early stage, his particular take on the character and the slow pace he took with his dialogue helped me to hear the play in a new way, despite having read it many times and seen multiple productions of it.

As good as it was, though, Rockwell stopped at one point to talk about the danger of letting a play this good make our choices for us. Mamet's rhythm and language is so delicious, it is tempting to spit it out fast so it sounds good, even though the actor uttering the words may not really know what he is saying. Conversely, by slowing down and mining for greater understanding of what matters to this character, and how he relates to Sam, Rockwell was able to connect on a personal level. He was aware that, for a true transformation to occur, the actor needs to bring him or herself to the role, including sometimes embarrassing inconsistencies and idiosyncrasies.

A Cobbled-Together “Career”

Compared to Sam Rockwell's storied career, I sometimes look at my own and lament that I've barely cobbled together something resembling a career by repeatedly taking on roles in which I was miscast and doing my best to make something memorable and believable out of them. Despite this sometimes-depressing view of my own body of work, I have recently encountered a lot of strangers who have generously praised me by expressing how different I am in real life compared to how they perceived me in a particular role. These comments encouraged me to look back at my work with a less critical eye so I could celebrate a little more and self-bash a little less.

I was pleasantly surprised when I began to look at the spectrum of the roles I've played. With a few exceptions, each one of them, as I now reflect, is distinguishable from the others. There was the wet-behind-the-ears financial-advisor cousin to the wife of the mob boss on The Sopranos. There was the uncommonly competent advance man to the eventual President on The West Wing. I played a morally challenged sex worker who was using his body to make money by getting dirt on his employer's political opponent on Scandal. That character was eventually revealed to have a very sensitive and vulnerable side that was far from how he was perceived when he arrived on the scene. My characters in Wind River, Goliath, and Chicago Fire were different combinations of aggressive, manipulative, and largely corrupt individuals. I've touched on my Huge in France role, and then there's the “good cop” I'm currently playing on City on a Hill. As the captain of the Gang unit, my character leads with integrity and has his values straight. At least he does so far. Check back in after Season 2.

The point in bringing up a few of my roles is to provide examples of my own transformations that didn't always feel like transformations while I was making them. For each one of them I can remember a sense of feeling overwhelmed at the start, which doubled as excitement. But this sentiment was quickly replaced by solid steps toward transformation. In nearly every instance I wished I had more time to prepare, so I'd have to have at least a portion of self-forgiveness that it would never fully live up to what I wanted to do in my mind. Regardless, I would begin the work, knowing that each step I took would bring me closer to the character.

The way I work is to start by figuring out my jumping-off point with the character. As one of my acting coaches, Kim Gillingham, taught me to ask, “Why did this script hurtle through the universe and land in my lap right now?” That question encourages me to ask myself, what am I going through right now that can be infused into this character? And what can I learn from this character and his journey? These questions start to shift my awareness of the character from being out there to being a part of me.

This is not a book about acting specifically, so I will not go into depth about my own particular process. There is something to learn, however, from how actors can repeatedly transform themselves to the point where you can watch them in several different roles and believe, on some level, that they are someone else. The reason I brought up Sam Rockwell was to explain Saladino's point: small increments, over time, yield extraordinary results. Had Rockwell aimed for his opening-night performance from the first time he cracked open the play, he would never be able to fully transform. Likewise, if you constantly focus on aspects of your business that appear to be “official,” like business cards or a website, but you fail to invest your time and efforts into the substance of what your business is about, the chances you'll fall short of the mark increase exponentially.

On the other hand, eventually all of those ancillary add-ons will be needed to complete the transformation. Just as most great businesses end up with business cards or effective websites, an actor needs the aid of other professional storytellers to really pull off their magic trick. Beginning with a great script, an actor is reliant on the material they are interpreting. This is why it's rare to see an Academy Award given for the portrayal of a character that was not interesting on the page to begin with. Likewise, an incredible wardrobe head or hair and makeup artist can take an actor's performance that is excellent on its own and push it over the top by applying the same specificity and care to the role as the actor has done. This goes for every aspect on a film or TV project, from the lighting, to the sets, to how the shots are framed and how the scenes are directed and later edited. There is a reason that when you've sat through a two-hour film that moves you to tears or belly laughs, it is followed by a list of credits a mile long. Just as the caterpillar cannot become a butterfly without the aid of sunlight, time, and the protection of a cocoon, no one can make a complete transformation on their own.

Breathing in Rarefied Air

I have been good friends with actor Chris Messina for over two decades, and our friendship has given me the benefit of hours and hours of conversations about the craft of acting. It has also given us the benefit of a very complex understanding of one another's work, because we have seen each other in so many different professional projects and personal crises over the years, as well as helped each other prepare for many of those projects. So when he was working on Live by Night, written and directed by Ben Affleck, and would call me from set to relay the latest chapter in our Actor's Journal, which exists in our heads only, he would end most conversations by saying, “This is rarefied air.”

That reference was to the level of extreme talent on that set. Not only the names you may be familiar with, like Affleck, but other masters of their craft, like three-time Oscar-winning cinematographer Robert Richardson and Costume Designer Jacqueline West, who has been nominated for three Oscars, among others. In addition to the unbelievable amount of preparation Messina did for the role, including adding over 40 pounds of fat to his frame, he felt like he was in great hands with everyone who brought their own level of expertise to his portrayal. Even still, the film ended up being a disappointment at the box office. When that happens, people tend to write the whole project off, but it doesn't take away from all of the hard work by top craftspeople that went into it. Yes, even movie stars like Ben Affleck cannot escape their 10,000 “no”s.

While every one of my roles has relied upon, and benefited from, help from others, two specific instances come to mind. The first is the help I received from our technical advisor on the feature film Wind River. While my role in Wind River only required a little more than a week on set, the majority of that work revolved around a massive shootout in the snow, including my character and another character riddling each other with bullets before both dying. Luckily, we had an ex-Army Ranger to advise us on the technical aspects of shooting and warfare. Most people assume an actor takes all of their direction from the director, but in this case, the film's immensely talented writer-director Taylor Sheridan had many more things to worry about than my particular ability to handle a gun. While Sheridan was very helpful, I also spent a lot of time picking the brain of our advisor, to the point where we have continued the friendship to this day. Technically, he showed me how to load and reload my Glock in a quick and seamless fashion while under duress. We did it over and over again. I also spent hours asking him about his own combat experiences and one particular story he shared gave me incredible insight into the thoughts and actions my character would be engaged in during the firefight. No one may realize it from the credits, but he was an integral part of my performance.

A quick aside about transformation is a story from the hair and makeup trailer on Wind River. While applying the scratch marks to my face that related to the storyline, the makeup artist said that I looked familiar. I had been working on Scandal at the time as well, where I played the sex worker who was engaged in a same-sex relationship, and when I mentioned the show she said she was a huge fan of it and had seen every episode. Without revealing my character, I merely said, “Oh, then you'd know me.” I told her I was going to let her figure it out on her own and she seemed stumped. The next day, in the middle of applying the scratch marks again, she said, “Oh my God! You play Michael!” Here I was, talking with her face to face; she had seen me in a multitude of episodes of a show where I was not using an accent and looked relatively the same as I did on this movie. But the support of the projects and the context of two very different stories had produced a transformation in her perception of me.

Another example of transformation came from the help I received from the hair and makeup departments on Amazon's Goliath. My character, Danny Loomis, undergoes his own transformation throughout the second season. When we first meet him, he is the alpha dog in his relationship with his friend Keith Roman, whom he is using for his own benefit. He is clean-cut and confident. By the end of the season, after we've seen him physically beaten by his billionaire boss and feeling the squeeze of an even more powerful evil nemesis, he has become unraveled. Nina Paskowitz and Geri Oppenheim, the hair and makeup heads, helped the visuals of this transformation immensely. We joked about my facial hair needing a separate credit for it's “performance” on the show. Joking aside, their attention to the detail of where my character was in his journey in any given scene added to the overall magic of his demise. Most viewers may not notice that kind of detail, but I know that my performance would have been significantly diminished without their help.

There is generally a lack of fanfare around those who aid the prime transformer because when their work is well-done, it does not call attention to itself. As legendary director Sidney Lumet mentions in his incredible book, Making Movies, if the transformation is pulled off the way it's supposed to be, viewers will sometimes complain that nothing happened. One particularly famous story involves Lumet's film adaptation of Eugene O'Neill's stage play Long Day's Journey into Night. Lumet and cinematographer Boris Kaufman went to great lengths to visually aid the actors' transformations from early in the film to their climactic finish. Their techniques included very specific lighting and framing choices for each character that progressed as the film continued. Ultimately, many critics said that Lumet had merely “filmed the play,” which only proves the subtlety of the filmmakers' visual strategies and the success of the magic trick they pulled off.

There are many times, as an actor, where the preparation that I do for a role is mostly for me. In 2015 I did a pilot for a period show that took place in 1947 Hollywood. I was playing the heavy, the muscle behind the studio head. In the pilot, I had to knock one guy out with a punch and beat up a spoiled movie star in a back alley. The way the scenes were being shot, it would have been easy to rely on the camera work and editing to tell the story. But, for my own ability to believe myself in this role, I hired ex-Olympian turned boxing coach José Navarro to help me with my foot work. Because the pilot was being shot so quickly after I got the job, we only had time for a few sessions beforehand, so I did the best I could. But I wanted to know what it felt like in my body to move like a fighter and think like a fighter, so after shooting the pilot I hired him and trained with him for months while eagerly anticipating the news of our show being picked up. No one else may have ever noticed the difference, but this training was more for me, to help me believe in my own ability to pull off the transformation. Ultimately, the pilot never went to series, so the results of my training were never seen. But that doesn't take away from the lessons I learned from the talented people I had the great fortune to work with.

Transformation begins with the belief that we can in fact transform. While there are as many techniques out there as there are teachers, the most important aspects of it are that it is possible and it is best approached by keeping in mind that for a true transformation to take place, time is needed. With patience, intention, hard work, and a team of supporters and mentors, you can change more than you realize if it is what you truly desire. Quick fixes may get you there temporarily, but as you've heard from others who have done it, lasting change requires lasting changes of habits and routines.