STAR

cruel algorithms

Those who follow me on social media might know that I was on the TV recently. I worked a gig earlier this year and it finally aired this past weekend. I posted online to let people know about it. Lots of folks commented some very nice things. A few friends hosted a watch party and, as they shoveled pizza in their mouths (I abstained due to a nightmarish case of food poisoning two days earlier), I tried to soak up all the love.

And I think I did. There are a few highs and lots of lows in this whole ‘actor’s life’ thing but mostly there’s a lot of lulls. There’s a lot of boredom and pining and studying and preparing. It looks like a shit ton of not-actually-acting. So when there is cause for celebration I’ve learned it’s desperately important to lean into the joy. It’s the thing we can hold on to during those long weeks/months/years of no action.

With this gig I was so proud of the final product which is not something I can always say. The episode I did was a lot of fun to watch. There were genuine laugh out loud moments and I’m happy with what they used of my character. I keep telling folks that I was the ‘funny reaction shot’ guy. I don’t say that disparagingly. They used me all over the episode and I’d like to think I helped make some comedic moments land. As my friend Vickie pointed out, my character also helped drive the character development of the two leads. Overall I was funny, they used good takes, and I have a strong presence in the show.

Big success.

In the days following the show, I was a little more active on social media than usual. The love coming from Instagram and Facebook felt good if I’m being totally honest. One of the lead actors and the director both commented on my post that I did a fantastic job. It made me want to stay at the party longer.

In the post-show swirl I landed on my IMDb page.

Not an advisable decision.

IMDb is a great and somewhat necessary tool for the entertainment industry professional. It’s a quick way to find out who’s done what with who and what they’re doing now. For instance when I get an audition, I go look at the creative team to see what else they’ve done. It a good research tool and I’ve had a pro IMDb account for at least a decade, if not longer.

The most horrible part of IMDb though is the STARmeter. The STARmeter is an algorithm-based ranking system for who’s hot and who’s not. The more page visits an actor’s profile gets, the higher their star ranking. Basically whoever the biggest movie star of the day is will have the highest ranking. It’s a very literal popularity contest.

Any rational person could guess that this is a tool of internal destruction for actors. It’s a minefield for the already fragile. A paved road toward pity and hatred of self. And, yes, it can be. Even for those of us who know it’s dumb and meaningless and stupid (which it is).

Case and point, after Sunday’s premiere I looked at my star ranking. I’m somebody who knows deep down (and even superficially) that it’s dumb and meaningless and stupid. Nevertheless I couldn’t not look. My humanity got the better of me. Because of the show airing my star ranking went from 300,000 (which was embarrassingly and amateurishly low) to 50,000. I was amazed and a little giddy. Deep down it was a kernel of validation that, yes, I’m a real actor. You can count me in with the top 50,000 other working actors in the world.

Then I started to look at everyone else’s ranking.

After that it was a quick trip to crazytown. Almost every single actor in the episode with me had a higher ranking. An actor with one credit to their name had a higher ranking. The two zombies had higher rankings than me. I’m not kidding. Apparently the undead are more popular than my wannabe-actor ass.

I was mad at myself for looking. I was even more mad at myself for caring. And I was extremely mad at myself for being disappointed. On a cognitive level I know just how absurd and arbitrary the whole system is. It has nothing to do with cultivating a fulfilling, creatively driven, interesting career. Which at the end of the day is why I do this. Nevertheless I saw my joy bubble burst right before my eyes. At least until I saw the tab on the right side of the screen.

IMDb keeps the top ten stars on a separate tap so you can see who is actually famous and important. Sitting at the tippy top #1 position, the most famous and important person in the wold at that moment, was Anne Heche.

For those who might not know, Anne was a 90’s TV and film star who famously dated Ellen Degeneres during Ellen’s coming out. Her career had largely wained. Then a few weeks ago she tragically crashed her car into a Los Angeles home, went into a coma, and died. Since then her struggles with mental illness and substance use have been revealed. It’s heartbreaking and sad on lots of levels.

I stopped my browsing and closed the computer. The messaging couldn’t get much clearer. You have to trade life for stardom. Or perhaps your demise is the only thing the systems of this business care about. Or perhaps a fireball of destruction is the only way to get noticed or appreciated. In any case, it’s a fruitless game where even the winners are losers.

I was saddened but awakened. That was the best piece of perspective to pull my head out of my ass. It snapped me out of that pity party. I lost my way momentarily because I lost sight of what was true. Funny how that happens. What was true was that I was proud of how the episode turned out. I was honored to have gotten the job and happy with the work I did. It was fortifying to know that my friends and family, who’ve walked this rocky journey with me for a long time, were proud.

And the deepest truth of them all, the one I hope to never lose sight of, is why. Why am I here? Why do I do this when it’s so difficult? The answer is simple. I’m here to cultivate a fulfilling, creatively driven, interesting life that inspires others to do the same. I’m here for what’s real. And no STARmeter, high or low, has the power to touch that.