I am (almost) sorry, upon some reflection.
You see, for me as an actor tonight, I killed it. I nailed it to the fucking wall and I slit its throat and drained it dry of blood. And I unapologetically loved every second of that.
I’m too real for Hollywood. I’ve said that before and I’ll say it again. I refuse to play “pretty” girls and I am happiest when I am madly in love with a project and its people and I am in over my head. I get a little method, and I go to darker places whenever I can and I care too fucking much about everything and everyone, and nothing makes me happier than when it’s all more real than reality and we are making a beautiful mess.
And that’s what happened tonight, when me as a character was indistinguishable from a “real” person. And I made someone so viscerally angry at that ‘betrayal’ that they reduced me to tears in their own indignation, after they told me something highly personal. But you know what? That other person was an actor too, and they should have fucking known better.
Me as a person? I get it. I get that pain, and like I told you in person I don’t betray other people’s secrets. But that other person also crossed a fucking line that I didn’t see coming – and that threw me for a serious loop. Whatever they brought to it – their own pain, their own bitterness at acting defeats, their apparent shame… that is their problem, not mine. Because I did my job, and I did it so well that it was seamless enough to con another con artist. And for that, I’m proud. I did my job well.
At the end of it? My people picked my ass up and we carried on – and that trust is the greatest feeling in the world. That is why I will continue to act: to tell these stories and to move people, and to be a part of more. Give me a challenge and I’m going to push at it twice as hard, no matter what shit people talk. Backing down or quitting is not in my repetoire.
And at the end of it all, I left the character and went and played pinball and ate octopus balls with my fiance, because that is an Emily thing and I’m more than my past experiences and my work and my people. So, bartender, I hope that you find the same thing someday and that you get over “being on stage.” Because I would rather just be, whatever that means in a particular moment.
ETA: I just realized that this blog post made it sound like someone within the project upset me. That’s not the case. It was a complete stranger who was in the public space where we were performing (and this other person, who was actually bartending, also happened to be an actor) who was clearly triggered by my performance. It’s a lot to think about, but at the end of it, I refuse to see any fault in my giving a good performance.