"As you wish."
"I'll never let go, Jack."
"I wish I knew how to quit you."
They say money makes the world go round, but it's love that makes it go topsy-turvy—it makes people do crazy things...especially in Hollywood.
Love will make you stand on a lawn with a boombox, build a house with blue shutters and a wraparound porch, or even run for 3 years, 2 months, 14 days, and 16 hours (and not for a box of chocolates).
Adam & Eve, Jaime & Cersei, Nick & Charlie...stories of love have been told since the dawn of time...and they make money!
I mean, Titanic was the highest-grossing film of all time for over a decade until it was sunk by Avatar. Romantic comedies like My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Pretty Woman, and Crazy Rich Asians warmed their way into our hearts while Gary Oldman's Dracula and Glenn Close's Alex Forrest showed us the dark side of this very human (and sometimes undead) experience. Whether we laughed, cried, or screamed, these love stories made hundreds of millions of box office dollars, proving that audiences just love love - even (or especially) when it's messy.
Wherefore art thou, art?
It's not just the star-crossed on screen who will do anything for love.
Romeo drank poison, sure...but he never had to wake up at 5 AM to do a self-tape for an unpaid short film (because “exposure"), serve back-to-back pumpkin spiced lattes for eight hours, sneak into the bathroom halfway through the shift to record a voiceover audition, take an overpriced Uber to a callback where they'll ultimately go "in a different direction,” then struggle through Meisner class before finally settling in for some "beauty sleep" for a criminally expensive headshot session in the morning.
Romeo may have died for Juliet...but actors live for their art.
So, why do we do this to ourselves? What is it that makes us suffer for our art? Are we all secretly masochists or are we answering some higher calling, lulled into the artist's struggle by the gentle whisper of the muses?
Whatever the reason, we do what we do because we love what we do...as hard and heartbreaking as it can be sometimes.
Yeah...but, would you die?
I'll never forget being in acting class as a kid and hearing the instructor say: "If you wouldn't die if you couldn't act anymore...if you could do anything else...do that." Now, my poor, little Virgo brain took this quite literally: "Well, I mean...I wouldn't DIE. And I'm smart! I could be a doctor if I really wanted to. Oh, God. Does that mean I'm not a real artist?"
And thus began the self-doubt. I questioned myself and my "calling" for years, believing that I wasn't meant to be an actor because I didn't feel the way "true artists" felt.
It wasn't until my sophomore year of college, after not doing any acting since high school—a whole year—that it happened. I was cast in A Chorus Line and the moment I walked into that very first rehearsal...I felt it. That feeling...that deep, almost indescribable inner knowing—of belonging...of alignment. I simply felt fully "me" again.
Cue Jerry Maguire: "You complete me."
I loved it! I loved the whole thing. Nothing else could compare. If money were no object, I'd do it for free! I mean, please. I've done it for free more times than I can count. We drive around, we audition, and even take gigs without getting paid—struggling through jobs we don't want (and sometimes hate)—all while spending our own money on countless things just to pursue this dream in the first place.
But, why? We could do something else. Most of us are probably capable of being doctors and lawyers and accountants and whatnot—making decent money and living a much more stable life. And—I could be wrong—but literal death seems like a bit of a stretch.
So, what did it all mean?
I realized this "calling" wasn't a matter of life or death...but of feeling—of love! I might not physically die if I couldn't act, but I certainly wouldn't feel as alive.
The power of art
I love the arts! They're my favorite thing in existence! Theater, music, film, painting, dance, photography...the arts are a bridge between worlds and a universal language that transcends words. A good story has incredible power; it can change minds and even heal wounds.
And, as artists, we are—first and foremost—storytellers. We are vessels through which experiences are shared (as woo-woo wah-wah as that might sound).
Years ago, I was in a play called Therapy. I played a troubled, young man who tragically takes his own life. It's a moving piece that deals with pain, loss, and the emptiness of questions left unanswered. I had actually experienced a similar loss in my family and this role allowed me to process my own grief in a different way. Therapy ironically became a form of therapy. Then, after curtain call one night, a woman came up to me, hugged me tightly, and said "Thank you." Then she walked away. I can't say for certain, but I got the feeling that somehow, our little play...our story, was able to connect with her own. Maybe—just maybe—in that dimly lit 99-seat theater in North Hollywood, we both found something we needed.
So, is that why we do it? For that moment of connection with the audience—their laughter or tears? For a chance at our own catharsis by living in someone else's shoes? Or is it fame, fortune, and the glimmer of the spotlight we seek? Maybe all or none of the above.
Whatever the reason, we do it...and we kill for it (metaphorically speaking, of course). We may not be pushing children out of tower windows à la Lannister...but we sure put ourselves through hell for this elusive dream—this toxic relationship? This star-crossed affair? This "happily ever after?" Well, we can hope.
So this Valentine's Day, skip the expensive dinner, flowers, and chocolate. Instead, snuggle up with your partner (or favorite cuddle pillow) and treat yourself to a romantic story—whether it's a feel-good romcom or a terrifying tale of obsession. Let yourself be taken on a journey, and maybe—just maybe—you, too, will find something you need.
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