Nappoholics Gems to Tide You Over Until the New Year
Tony Nappo, of Nappoholics Anonymous fame, is taking a holiday break after thirty-five stellar weeks of thinking. We’ve rounded up some of his funniest and most poignant musings to revisit over the break. But before you get to them, check out this exclusive footage Intermission obtained of what happens at a supposedly top-secret Nappoholics Anonymous meeting…
1. If you can change the life of JUST ONE CHILD during a student matinee, you’ve pretty much wasted everyone else’s afternoon. (Week 9: Rejected Movie Catchphrases, Montreal Audiences, and NudgeGate)
2. Italian camel toes. (Week 29: Reviewers, Ego, and Comedians)
3. The man I owe the largest part of my success in the audition room to is Ron White. He taught me years ago the most important lesson that any actor can ever learn in terms of auditioning: OWN YOUR AUDITION.
Own it. Run it. Take it the fuck over. If you need to stop it, stop it. But stop it like a pro. Don’t apologize, tell the camera person to keep rolling, and ask for the line as you would on set. Show them that you aren’t rattled because you forgot a fucking line—that you aren’t going to fall apart on set over minor shit like that—that your focus is bigger and you are more secure in what you are doing to be embarrassed or made small. If you need the reader to do something different, stop them and ask that they do it. Not like an asshole, but do it. Show whomever it is that you are auditioning for that you own the material and the part.
A lot of the time actors make the mistake of trying to show the director or producer what they think they want to see. But the truth is, you have no idea what they want to see. You have to go in and tell them what they want to see. You do that by showing them that you are the only person for the part. If they fuck it up and cast someone else, that’s on them.
Confidence is 99 percent of the audition game. And it’s not about bravado and it’s not about talking about yourself like you’re trying to impress a date. In fact, the less you talk about yourself the better—nobody gives a shit about you—they give a shit about casting the role. Know what you are doing in the scenes and be prepared to completely adapt. Know your lines enough to not have to think about them. I personally change my lines all the time. Little life-changing secret here: nobody fucking cares if you say the words right. They care if you get the scene right. The words have to become YOUR words. Your goal is to make them forget anyone else ever said them.
Most importantly, when it’s done, walk out the door and forget the whole thing ever happened. If they call, they call. If not, you still did your job. Walk away and forget all about it until the next one. And then go in and do it all over again. (Week 26: Trump, the Meatball, and Grants)
4. I totally get why people hate the CNE airshow. I’m Italian so noise doesn’t really bother me. What I don’t get is why people don’t hate America’s Got Talent. (Week 21: Pushups, Twitter, and the CRTC)
5. This is as close as I will ever get to being Paul Newman. (Week 22: TIFF, Dad Bods, and Class)
6. When I went to rehab for cocaine in 2000 for twenty-one days, my parents came up to visit and we sat at a picnic table and my mom talked nonstop for an hour while my dad said nothing at all. When my mom finally went to the bathroom, my dad looked at me and said, quietly and simply, “What the fuck’s the matter with you? Didn’t you see Scarface?” That is my favourite thing my father has ever said. (Week 8: Rehab, Line Readings, and the Raptors)
7. The thing I find frustrating about opera is that it takes so fucking long for anything to happen. It’s like setting the Leafs’ season to music. (Week 4: Opera, Christian Girlfriends, and Small Pieces of Wisdom)
8. Bad luck much? (Week 30: Audition Breakdowns, Bad Luck, and a Trump Presidency)
9. My daughter Ella- Can I watch TV while I eat dinner?
Me- Will you go to bed early tonight without giving me a hard time?
Ella- Yes.
Me- You say that now but will you actually do it when I put you to bed?
Ella- How should I know? I’m not in the future. (Week 16: Penis Tattoos, Freedom of Choice, and Quality Filler)
10. I flushed the toilet one time in 2012 and it’s like I’m fucking Jean Valjean over here. (Week 7: Carb Cravings, Defining Theatre, and Jean Valjean)
11. There was one time I was sitting in an audition waiting room with Daniel Kash and he observed that “You know, I know every single guy who has walked in here, and not one woman.” He was right. About twenty journeymen had come and gone—guys over forty-five with solid resumes who had all been around. But alongside this parade of old farts was a parade of beautiful twentysomething females. And I posted at the time about what a shitty deal it was for women but also what waste it was for any given project. I mean, after twenty years of doing this shit, you’ve got serious fucking chops, you really know what you are doing. Any guy who was in the building that day could have played the part I read for, as could many of the women that I know over forty-five. Except they weren’t there. It makes so little sense for the opportunities to disappear just as those women are moving into the master category of their craft. (Week 18: Steroids, Soulpepper, and Roles for Women)
12. The difference between being a Canadian actor and a Canadian house painter is that people actually WANT to hire a Canadian house painter. (Week 1: Three’s Company, Rob Ford, and Dressing Room Etiquette)
Tony Nappo
Tony is Italian, he’s from Scarborough, he’s an actor, he’s a father, he’s a really good house painter, and he doesn’t believe that most things matter, ultimately, at all.
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iPhoto caption: Salt Water Moon, Factory. Photo by Joseph Michael.
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