The Hollywood Mamalogues: Mother-Daughter Pilot Season

by AMY ANDERSON

Now that awards season is underway—and done for those of us not invited to the Oscars—let’s talk about pilot season.

Pilot season traditionally runs from January to mid-April, basically after all of the network executives return from their holiday trips in Cabo or Kona. This is the time of year when casting gets hot and heavy for working actors. Or so we hope.

Although I’m not a famous actor, I still fall into the category of working actor. I’m a card-carrying member of the union, I attend auditions and, believe it or not, I book gigs from time to time. It even pays a nice part of the rent.

While I have made most of my television appearances as a stand-up comedian, I started my performance career in theater and initially came to Los Angeles to work as a film and television actor. Last year, I decided to take some time off the road in order to refocus on this goal. It was a scary decision for me, as comedy road work is my bread and butter, but I started pounding the pavement and beefing up my screen acting resume.

Pilot season is a fickle jerk to most of us working actors. Every year, it begins with so much promise and excitement. Pilot season tells me about all these new roles opening up for “older” women and Asian Americans, and I feel all jazzed up. Exciting people email and call me to arrange meetings and auditions, telling me how awesome I am and how much they would like to include me in a project. But just as I start to think “OMG! This is going to be the year,” the project changes direction (e.g. the casting went with a black girl), pilot loses steam and gets canceled or roles get rewritten for someone in their 20s. By April, pilot season and I end up in a bitter breakup, where I’m left saying, “It’s not me. It’s totally you, and I don’t know why I’ve let you treat me this way for the last three months!”

The lucky few who book a great role or even some small parts usually have been through the ringer more than a few times, as there are really no “overnight successes” in the entertainment industry.

This year’s pilot season has been an interesting one already as I’ve been dragging Aubrey to auditions with me. Aubrey knows the drill and waits quietly outside the casting room with her iPad until I emerge. An audition usually only takes a few minutes. Sometimes, if the waiting area is busy, I have her come into the casting room with me. It’s too much pressure for her to handle all the “Are you Lily?” probes alone, and casting directors have been very understanding. During the audition, she sits quietly, observes and speaks politely to the casting director when spoken to.

Aubrey is always the sweetest, most supportive girl in the world. Before an audition, she tells me, “Do your best, Mommy” and asks me how I thought I did afterwards. Then, she always says, “Ooh! I hope you get the part, Mommy!” She makes me feel like a million bucks and reminds me how fun it is to be an actor.

Once after seeing me in an audition and callback for a Triscuit commercial, she asked me why I didn’t book it. When I told her that they decided to pick someone else, she said, “WHAT?! But you were the funniest!” Even though she didn’t see the other candidates, I really appreciated her unbiased confidence in my abilities.

Sometimes, I wish I could book something bigger to give her something to be proud of. Like any mom, I want to be a great role model to my little girl. However, I realized this year that my dedication to my vocation is exactly what she needs to see. The child who booked the coolest job on her first audition doesn’t know what it’s like to be an auditioning working actor. If Aubrey wants to continue acting after Modern Family is off the air, it’s incredibly important for her to understand the commitment, discipline and perseverance that is required. Being an actor really isn’t about landing the biggest job or becoming a huge star. It’s about doing the work and doing it well. If you can’t find the joy in that or in anything you do, then it isn’t worth doing. You will never succeed or eventually, after some commercial success, you will self-destruct. We see it over and over in the entertainment business.

Aubrey is just starting to go on more auditions herself. She’s eager to break into animation voice-over, film and more theatrical productions. I’m excited to accompany her to more auditions in the near future. And when she comes out of the casting room, I hope I can make her feel like a million bucks.

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Photo courtesy of Joanna Degeneres

Amy Anderson is a Korean American adoptee, comedian and actress. She created and hosted the first Asian American standup showcase “ChopSchtick Comedy” at the Hollywood Improv. She has appeared on Comedy Central, VH1, AZN, and the Game Show Network. Her daughter Aubrey Anderson-Emmons plays the role of Lily on the Emmy-winning show Modern Family.

The Hollywood Mamalogues are published online biweekly. Read the previous Mamalogue here.