What If?: The Secret to Memorable Acting Choices

Two actors walk into an audition.

Both are talented.

Both are prepared.

Both give very good performances.

But one of them makes the director lean forward and say something that every actor would love to hear.

"I never thought of it that way."

What happened?

Was that actor better?

Not necessarily.

Was the interpretation more correct?

Maybe not.

But something happened in that room.

The actor made a choice that was unexpected, truthful, and completely committed.

And suddenly, the audition became memorable.

Now, here's what's interesting.

That actor might not get the role.

The director may have a completely different vision of the character.

But the actor has demonstrated something enormously valuable.

Imagination.

Technique.

Confidence.

And the ability to bring something to the material that nobody anticipated.

So how do you do that?

How do you take creative risks without becoming gimmicky?

How do you find something original without abandoning the writer's intentions?

Well, I want to share two little words that might change the way you prepare your next audition.

What if?

LEAN INTO THEME / COMMERCIAL

[THEME MUSIC / COMMERCIAL]

RETURN — APPROX. :30

So today we're going to explore something actors are constantly encouraged to do.

Make strong choices.

You've heard that advice, haven't you?

"Make a choice."

"Take a risk."

"Don't be predictable."

Wonderful.

But how?

That's the part I think sometimes gets left out.

Because telling an actor to make an interesting choice is a little like telling someone to be spontaneous.

The moment you start trying, spontaneity becomes rather difficult.

So instead of trying to be interesting, we're going to become curious.

And curiosity begins with a question.

What if?

WELCOME / SHOW INFORMATION

Welcome to Casting Actors Cast.

I'm Jeffrey Dreisbach.

Casting director, teacher, author, former actor, and somebody who has spent a considerable amount of time watching talented actors make perfectly reasonable choices.

And occasionally, some wonderfully unreasonable ones.

If you're new to the podcast, welcome.

And if you've been with me for a while, I'm delighted you're back.

You can find everything we're doing at CastingActorsCast.com.

That's where you'll find the podcast, information about my book, Booked It! The Actors Playbook for Getting Cast, and my online course, Next-Level Auditions — Prepare Smarter. Perform Better. Book More.

And while you're there, fill out the form and Jump Into the Talent Pool.

That opens up some free materials I've created for actors, including the VO book and video, along with Casting Directors: What They Don't Tell You.

Okay.

Let's talk about choices.

Because making a memorable choice doesn't necessarily mean making a bigger choice.

Sometimes it means discovering something smaller, more personal, and considerably more interesting.

PART ONE — GOOD ACTING. NOT RIGHT.

There's a phrase we sometimes use in casting.

"Good acting. Not right."

And I want to be careful with that phrase because it doesn't necessarily mean the actor did anything wrong.

Quite the opposite.

The actor may have been beautifully prepared.

The interpretation may have been intelligent.

The technique may have been excellent.

But the performance didn't quite connect with what the director was imagining.

Now, that happens all the time.

Casting involves a tremendous number of variables.

Age.

Type.

Relationships.

Chemistry.

The director's vision.

The world of the project.

And sometimes something as simple as the way one actor looks standing next to another.

But here's something else I've observed.

Sometimes an actor delivers a perfectly good audition that follows the most obvious interpretation of the material.

And it's fine.

Nothing wrong.

Nothing embarrassing.

Nothing particularly memorable either.

The actor comes into the room.

The character is angry.

So the actor plays angry.

The character is frightened.

So the actor plays frightened.

The character is confident.

So the actor plays confident.

And I understand why.

The script seems to be telling them what the character is experiencing.

But here's the question.

Is the script telling you how to behave?

Or is it giving you circumstances from which behavior can emerge?

Those are different things.

A character can be angry without behaving angrily.

A frightened person might become controlling.

A confident person might be desperately trying to conceal insecurity.

Human behavior is wonderfully contradictory.

And acting becomes interesting when we begin exploring those contradictions.

THE LITERAL INTERPRETATION TRAP

Let's imagine a scene.

Two people are ending a relationship.

One says:

"I don't think we should see each other anymore."

The other replies:

"Fine. If that's what you want."

Pretty straightforward.

Now, the most obvious interpretation might be hurt.

Or anger.

Or disappointment.

And any of those could be absolutely truthful.

But suppose the actor begins preparing by asking:

"What if I'm relieved?"

Suddenly, the same words mean something different.

"Fine. If that's what you want."

Perhaps the character has been trying to end this relationship for months and couldn't find the courage.

Now the other person has done it for them.

What if the character is delighted?

What if the character is terrified?

What if the character doesn't believe the other person is serious?

What if the character has been expecting this conversation and has rehearsed the response a hundred times?

Same dialogue.

Same circumstances.

Different possibilities.

And here's what I love about this.

We're not changing the script.

We're changing our relationship to the script.

That's an important distinction.

WHY ACTORS PLAY IT SAFE

Now, why don't actors do this more often?

Well, one reason is fear.

And it's a perfectly understandable fear.

Actors want to get the audition right.

They want to please the casting director.

They want the director to recognize the character.

They want to demonstrate that they understand the material.

And after years of classes, workshops, coaching, and audition experience, they've developed a pretty good idea of what a professional audition is supposed to look like.

So they prepare carefully.

They make logical choices.

They follow the emotional direction of the scene.

And they deliver something very competent.

But sometimes, in the process of being correct, they eliminate the possibility of being surprising.

That's the trap.

The actor thinks:

"If I make an unusual choice, what if they think I don't understand the character?"

Fair question.

But let me offer another one.

What if your unusual choice demonstrates that you understand the character more deeply than they expected?

What if your interpretation reveals a possibility that wasn't immediately apparent?

What if the director becomes curious about you?

That's where creative risk becomes valuable.

Not because you're trying to impress somebody.

But because you're allowing yourself to investigate the material beyond its most obvious meaning.

THE DIRECTOR WHO LEANS FORWARD

One of the most exciting things that can happen in an audition is hearing a director say:

"I never thought of it that way."

I've seen that happen.

And it's wonderful.

Because something has shifted.

The actor has contributed to the creative conversation.

Now, let's be clear.

The director may still say:

"That's fascinating. But it's not quite where we're going with this character."

Fair enough.

The actor's interpretation may not fit the production.

But the director has seen something.

An actor who can make a specific choice.

An actor who understands behavior.

An actor who commits.

An actor who has imagination.

And sometimes that leads to a callback.

Not necessarily because the director wants that exact interpretation.

But because the director wants to see what else the actor can do.

That's a significant distinction.

A memorable audition doesn't always change the director's mind about the character. Sometimes it changes the director's mind about the actor.

And that's worth remembering.

PART TWO — THE WHAT IF? PROCESS

So let's get practical.

I want to introduce a process that you can use when preparing a scene or audition.

And it begins with two words.

What if?

Now, I'm not suggesting that you abandon script analysis.

Quite the opposite.

You still need to understand the writer's intentions.

You need to know what your character wants.

What they need from the other person.

What stands in their way.

What they're doing to get what they want.

And what changes during the scene.

That's the foundation.

But once you've established that foundation, I want you to begin testing possibilities.

Not randomly.

Intelligently.

Curiously.

Let's start with the character's need.

WHAT IF THE NEED IS DIFFERENT?

Imagine you're playing a character confronting a friend who has betrayed them.

The obvious need might be:

"I want an apology."

Fine.

But what if you don't want an apology?

What if you want the friendship back?

What if you want the other person to admit that they still care about you?

What if you want them to become angry because their anger would prove the relationship still matters?

Suddenly, the confrontation changes.

You may be saying angry words while desperately trying to preserve the friendship.

That's interesting.

Because now there's a contradiction between the words and the underlying need.

And contradiction is often where compelling behavior lives.

WHAT IF THE OBSTACLE IS DIFFERENT?

Now let's look at obstacles.

Suppose your character is trying to convince someone to lend them money.

The obvious obstacle is that the other person doesn't want to give it to you.

But what if the real obstacle is your pride?

What if asking for help is the most humiliating thing you've ever done?

What if you're terrified the other person will discover how desperate you are?

What if you believe that accepting help makes you weak?

Now the scene isn't simply about getting money.

It's about trying to get something you desperately need without revealing how desperately you need it.

And that changes behavior.

Maybe you become overly casual.

Maybe you joke.

Maybe you talk too much.

Maybe you become strangely formal.

Maybe you can't look the other person in the eye.

These aren't decorations.

They're possible consequences of the circumstances.

That's what makes them playable.

WHAT IF THE BEHAVIOR IS DIFFERENT?

Here's another possibility.

The script tells you the character is furious.

Okay.

But what if the character has learned that showing anger makes them vulnerable?

What if anger is something they never allow themselves to express?

Now instead of shouting, they become quiet.

Very quiet.

Perhaps polite.

Perhaps unnervingly reasonable.

And suddenly the scene may become more powerful because the anger is being contained.

Or suppose the character is frightened.

What if fear makes them talk too much?

What if they become funny?

What if they become aggressive?

What if they try to take control of everything around them?

Think about the people you know.

People don't all respond to the same circumstances in the same way.

Why should characters?

CHARACTER QUIRKS AND CONTRADICTIONS

Now, let's talk about quirks.

Because this is where actors can sometimes get themselves into trouble.

You might ask:

"What if my character laughs at inappropriate moments?"

Interesting.

But why?

What purpose does the laughter serve?

Is it nervousness?

Is it a defense against grief?

Is it an attempt to control the other person?

Is it a way of avoiding intimacy?

If the laughter emerges from something truthful, it may reveal a fascinating dimension of the character.

But if the actor is laughing simply because nobody else will...

we may have a problem.

That's not necessarily character development.

That's an actor trying to be interesting.

And believe me, casting directors can usually recognize the difference.

A memorable choice isn't necessarily an unusual choice. It's a choice that reveals something.

That's the distinction.

The behavior has to come from somewhere.

It has to belong to the character.

It has to serve the story.

Otherwise, it's just decoration.

And we don't need to decorate the actor.

We need to discover the character.

A LITTLE ACTING EXPERIMENT

Let's try something.

I'm going to give you four simple lines of dialogue.

Two characters.

Alex and Jordan.

Alex says:

"You knew about this?"

Jordan replies:

"I was going to tell you."

Alex says:

"When?"

And Jordan answers:

"When I knew what to say."

That's it.

Four lines.

Now imagine you're playing Jordan.

Your first interpretation might be guilt.

Jordan has concealed something.

Alex has discovered it.

Jordan feels guilty.

Perfectly reasonable.

But let's try a few possibilities.

What if Jordan doesn't feel guilty at all?

What if Jordan believes keeping the secret was an act of kindness?

Suddenly, Jordan may become defensive.

Or even indignant.

What if Jordan is relieved that Alex finally knows?

Now the confession might feel like freedom.

What if Jordan is terrified of losing Alex?

Now every word becomes an attempt to preserve the relationship.

What if Jordan is actually angry at Alex for forcing this conversation?

Now the character may become confrontational.

Same four lines.

Different needs.

Different obstacles.

Different behavior.

And potentially very different scenes.

Here's what I want you to notice.

We haven't changed the dialogue.

We've changed the circumstances we're exploring.

And that's where the actor's imagination begins to contribute something valuable.

MORE TO COME — APPROX. 15:00

We're going to take a quick break.

But when we come back, I want to talk about something equally important.

Once you've discovered an interesting choice, how do you know whether it's actually working?

And what happens when the director asks you to do something completely different?

Because making a memorable choice is only half the job.

More on What If? right after this.

[COMMERCIAL BREAK]

PART THREE — DISCOVER. TEST. EVALUATE.

Okay.

Let's put this into a simple process.

Three steps.

Discover. Test. Evaluate.

First, discover.

Take a scene you're preparing and identify the most obvious interpretation.

What would most actors probably assume about this character?

What emotional direction does the dialogue seem to suggest?

Then ask:

"What if?"

What if the character wants something different?

What if the obstacle isn't what I assumed?

What if the character is hiding the very emotion the scene seems to suggest?

What if the relationship is more complicated than it first appears?

Don't settle for the first answer.

Explore.

Second, test.

Actually perform the scene using the new possibility.

Don't just think about it.

Do it.

Because an idea that sounds fascinating in your head may not work when you begin speaking the dialogue.

That's fine.

It's an experiment.

You haven't failed.

You've learned something.

And third, evaluate.

Did the choice reveal something truthful?

Did it deepen the relationship?

Did it clarify the character's need?

Did it serve the story?

Or was it simply unusual?

That's the test.

Not whether the choice was clever.

Whether it worked.

DON'T FALL IN LOVE WITH YOUR CHOICE

Now here's something I want to emphasize.

Once you've discovered an interpretation you love...

don't marry it.

Because the director may have another idea.

And that's not a rejection of your creativity.

It's part of the collaborative process.

Let's say you've made a wonderfully restrained choice in a confrontation scene.

The director watches and says:

"Interesting. Now let's try it with much more anger."

Great.

That's an opportunity.

You don't need to defend your original interpretation.

You don't need to explain why you made the choice.

You don't need to deliver a ten-minute dissertation on your character's childhood.

Just make the adjustment.

And here's where strong technique becomes especially valuable.

Because the actor who can make an imaginative choice and then adjust it immediately is demonstrating something directors love.

Flexibility.

Responsiveness.

Professionalism.

An ability to collaborate.

The choice gets their attention. The adjustment demonstrates your craft.

That's a pretty good combination.

RISK WITHOUT RECKLESSNESS

I also want to distinguish creative risk from recklessness.

Taking a risk doesn't mean ignoring the script.

It doesn't mean changing the dialogue without permission.

It doesn't mean inventing behavior that contradicts essential facts of the story.

And it certainly doesn't mean trying to shock the casting director.

A meaningful creative risk is grounded in the material.

It expands the possibilities.

It doesn't abandon them.

And sometimes the most interesting risk is surprisingly small.

A moment of kindness where we expected cruelty.

A smile where we expected anger.

An admission of fear from someone who appears confident.

A moment of stillness from someone who has been trying desperately to maintain control.

Those choices can be enormously revealing.

And because they're rooted in recognizable human behavior, they can feel completely truthful.

THE ACTOR WHO BECOMES CURIOUS

There's one more psychological dimension I want to explore.

Actors sometimes approach auditions as examinations.

They want to get the answer right.

They want to demonstrate that they've done their homework.

They want to avoid making mistakes.

And I understand that.

Auditions are important.

But what happens when we replace the desire to be correct with the desire to discover?

Something changes.

The actor becomes curious.

Instead of asking:

"Will they like this?"

The actor begins asking:

"What happens if I try this?"

That's a much more creative question.

And perhaps a much healthier one.

Because you cannot control whether the director likes your interpretation.

You cannot control whether you're right for the role.

You cannot control the final casting decision.

But you can control your preparation.

Your imagination.

Your willingness to explore.

And your commitment to the choices you make.

That's where your power is.

Not in guessing what the director wants.

But in bringing something truthful and specific to the material.

HERE'S YOUR RESET

So here's your Reset for this episode.

The next time you're preparing an audition, don't stop at the first reasonable interpretation.

Understand the script.

Understand the character.

Understand the circumstances.

Then ask:

What if?

What if my character wants something different?

What if the obstacle isn't what I thought?

What if the behavior I'm expecting is actually hiding something else?

What if the character isn't angry?

What if they're afraid?

What if they're not trying to win?

What if they're trying not to lose?

Explore the possibilities.

Test them.

See what happens.

Keep what works.

Let go of what doesn't.

And remember...

You don't have to make an unusual choice to be memorable.

You have to make a truthful choice that reveals something worth watching.

Sometimes that interpretation will be exactly what the director wants.

Sometimes it won't.

But a director who sees imagination, commitment, technique, and the ability to adjust has learned something valuable about you.

And that's never wasted.

So stop trying to guess the perfect interpretation.

Start asking better questions.

Because memorable acting doesn't begin with the need to be different.

It begins with the willingness to discover something.

I'm Jeffrey Dreisbach.

Thank you for spending this time with me.

This is Casting Actors Cast.

And I'll see you next time.