The Audition I Almost Passed On

Audition alert for Katherine Willis. One scene, one line. No context, no details. I’m here to tell you about the events surrounding that innocuous email. For as long as I can remember, I’ve known that acting is a part of my purpose, but it’s not easy. I didn’t train at a prestigious actors conservatory. I don’t live in New York or la. I chose to stay in Austin to raise my kids, and yet I’ve been working consistently as a professional actress for over 35 years for performers like me. Auditions are how we book work. They come at all hours with tight deadlines and no guarantees. It’s good work if you can get it. It pays well, but I do it because I love the craft, the teamwork, the storytelling, and I was doing well until the bottom fell out in 2021. At that time, I was going through a divorce, living in a one bedroom apartment with my youngest son surviving the pandemic like we all were.
During the pandemic, production slowed to a crawl, auditions all but stopped, and then came February, 2021 and the great freeze swept through Texas. There was a boil notice for water. The power lines were failing, people were dying. The one bright spot though was my son sledding and plain in the snow. On the second day of the freeze, I checked on my car. It wouldn’t start. I got word from the attorney. My divorce was finalized, and that evening I got an email notification audition for Catherine Willis. It was just one line on a blank page. There were no details other than it was a period film. Honestly, my first impulse was to pass. This was a throwaway scene anyone could do, but it felt like a breadcrumb, something productive to focus my mind on. Just little bit of hope. So my audition was over Zoom. I’d gone through my preparation. I’d warmed up, meditated, visualized success. The audition time came and it went. Did they give me the wrong time? I waited and I waited, repeating my one line over and over again until probably for 30 minutes, and then up on the screen popped casting director Ellen Lewis. She began, do you have any experience?
Nobody had ever asked me that before. Yeah, I mean, I’ve been doing this for a little over 30 years. I’ve been very fortunate to be part of some great projects. There’s a little more small talk, and then we began, I delivered my one line, Henry. Oh, Henry, come over here. We have some wonderful news. Molly is pregnant again. After an excruciating pause, she said, let’s do it again. I said the line again, Henry. Oh, Henry, come over here. We have some wonderful news. Molly is pregnant again. Come on. She smiled and said, great. To which I replied, well, Ellen, I can’t say that was my best work, but given the week I’ve had, I think that’s the best I can do. As the words were coming out of my mouth, I slowly imploded. You never talk a casting director out of liking your work. But it was done.
We logged off and I stood there and I thought, this is a sign my acting career’s over, and then I put it behind me. Two weeks later, my agent called production wanted me for the role only. It was for four months because I’d be playing Robert De Niro’s wife, opposite Leonardo DiCaprio and Killers of the Flower Moon, directed by Martin Scorsese, a $200 million film working with legends. In about a month I was in Oklahoma. The film tells the true story of the reign of terror a period of time in the 1920s of the murders of members of the Osage nation. Because oil was found on tribal land and the formation of the FBI to solve those murders. Filming in the same locations where the actual events took place was profound. I deeply bonded with a community of people whose story we were telling, and the production itself was a gathering of excellence.
Marty led with boundless enthusiasm and precision. His wife and daughter were often on set with him. Bob was quiet and tense, polite. He always called me by my character’s name in the morning saying, good morning, Marty. At the end of the day, goodnight Marty. Leo always liked to improv in his scenes. He tells stories in between takes. Turns out he was a master impersonator, and then there was Lily Gladstone, the heart and soul of the film, and she carried the mantle so beautifully. Her purpose was so profound that I am not exaggerating when I tell you she stole every scene, and I’m happy to say I was in a lot more than one line.
My last day of filming ended after filming two really big scenes. That was one of them. As the crew was packing up around me, Marty approached me. He grabbed my hand in between both of his and he said, excellent work. I have to tell you what beautiful work you’ve done. Just excellent. I’m so pleased. It’s a moment I’ll never forget. And the next day I was on my way back to Austin. The snow had long since melted. I had to laugh that a few months earlier. I thought my career was over, and here I was returning from a bucket list adventure, a pinnacle few in my industry ever experience. I don’t know how to end this without falling into some old cliches. So what I do know is that life is a series of peaks and valleys. All of them are temporary. You can’t have the peaks without the valleys to measure them against, but it’s all part of the same beautiful ride. Thank you.