Skill, Process, and the Work


Skill, Process, and the Work
by Mario A. Campanaro
There’s a sophistication to the work that cannot be denied, and with that comes a choice: Do you want to be the type of actor who is always dependent on luck, hoping your work will go well? Or do you want to be a skilled actor, one who has something that sustains you—your work and your career?
When you’re a skilled actor, you have a process that guides you. You know that when you’re losing your way, you can rely on this process to take you where you need to go. No matter what kind of work you’re doing, you still have to approach it with the same life structure. What’s apparent in life will be apparent in the work.
To succeed, you must know who you are, where you are, what you want, what’s getting in the way of what you want, and what you are doing to overcome those obstacles. Life, circumstances, relationships, and the needs within those circumstances all shape the story. And as an actor, you have to align with the text, trying to fulfill the needs outlined in the script, while hoping to live in some peaceful, happy, successful, and loving state—as suggested by the givens of the text.
You have to know your “in” to those circumstances, the thing that drives you to pursue the needs of the character. You need to be clear and specific about your approach. Of course, you have to understand the environment, the time period, and all the details, but there has to be something that gives you a starting point into the work. Without that, it will always feel like a “cold read,” and you’ll be left thinking, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
And don’t you get tired of feeling that way every time you work, just hoping it’ll go well? This is the danger of depending on “cold reads,” or picking up material and simply “doing it.” When you do that, you end up creating your own world with your own choices—whether they’re instinctual or interesting—without fully considering how they connect to the play or script. What does it really have to do with the world of the play? What does it have to do with your character’s world?
When you’re working, you must ask: What are you going after? Where are your instincts coming from? Are they based on the play and the script, or on your idea of the play without truly respecting its structure?
The real test of action is whether you, as an actor, can perform in a play that’s two and a half hours long, eight shows a week, or in a film, for weeks or months on end, often out of sequence—and still give a consistent, alive, uninhibited, organic, and visceral performance. You need the stamina—vocally, physically, and emotionally—to tell the story truthfully, using the full spectrum of your instrument. And it must always feel fresh, as if it’s the first time.
That’s where your skill, craft, and process come into play. To be successful, an actor needs tools that help them—physically, mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually—through the work. These tools are there to support you, to have your back, to ensure you’re fully prepared for the role.
Since when has it become shameful to have a process? Why is there so much guilt and belittlement surrounding the idea of having a craft? Just as a ballet dancer needs to know the technicalities to perform complex turns, an actor needs a set of tools to support their work. But it must be used in a way that is tangible and activates the actor, allowing them to live and breathe in the work.
If you want to live in the chaos of the unknown, you must also be aware of what is known to help you navigate that unknown. Your toolbox might not always be the same, but the structure will always remain. What you know in life, your character will know. There’s no “ifs,” “ands,” or “buts” about it.
An actor with the talent, sophistication, know-how, and ability to be dependable and accountable will have a long career, whether on stage or screen. Simple as that. An actor who does the work is an actor who works, continues to work, and, most importantly, enjoys the work. Because when it comes to the quality of the work, it’s no longer about luck. It’s about a lifetime of well-respected skill, paired with organic talent. And that’s where the freedom and fun truly lie.
Copyright © 2025 Mario A. Campanaro, All rights reserved."