10,000 NOs. Matthew Del Negro
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of these intimidating stints was on The West Wing. While I was eventually cast as Bram Howard, the advance man of Jimmy Smits's Matt Santos character, toward the end of season 6, I had auditioned for a different role two years prior. For that audition, I had made it far enough to eventually read with the show's creator, Aaron Sorkin. Despite having had a nice run on The Sopranos a few years before this, I was a bit scared. The tip from the casting director before I walked into the room was that Sorkin liked it fast, so I would need to pick up my cues and keep the pace at a fast clip. While I wouldn't have considered myself a loyal fan of The West Wing at the time, I had seen enough episodes to know that virtually every character was hyper-articulate and prone to slinging polysyllabic political jargon while marching through the maze-like halls of the West Wing or hotel corridors at a brisk pace—these “walk and talks” quickly became a hallmark of the show and a feature used by many shows since. It was intimidating, to say the least.
On top of this, while I consider myself to be an intelligent human, I have never been particularly astute when it comes to politics. With an exorbitant amount of preparation, however, I was able to successfully make it through my reading with Sorkin. Knowing that there were only a few other actors in the running, coupled with the fact that they were looking to “cast an unknown” in this role, I actually walked out of that room believing I had a legitimate shot. I was wrong. Rather than offering the role to me or one of the other handful of “unknowns,” they gave it to Matthew Perry, who was fresh off of the smash hit Friends. Such is Hollywood. I was forced to chalk it up as another of my 10,000 “no”s when Perry eventually won an Emmy for his performance.
Two years later, in 2005, while temporarily in Los Angeles attempting to score a series regular role on a new show during pilot season (the time of year when pilots, a.k.a. first episodes of a new series, are being cast for the following season of TV), I went in again for what was advertised as a one-off guest star role on The West Wing. Again, there was a mountain of political jargon to climb, and my fear of flubbing it helped me to prepare for the audition enough that I was eventually chosen for the role. Ironically, I remember feeling worse coming out of that room than I did after the Sorkin audition two years before. (How an actor feels about their audition does not always correlate to whether or not they get the job.)
Getting the gig was a victory considering the pedigree of the show. But when I went to my first fitting, I picked up an inside scoop from a member of the wardrobe department, who eventually became a friend, that raised the stakes for me considerably. He told me that my storyline was part of a new direction on the show that involved the campaign trail for Jimmy Smits's character, Matt Santos, running for President. John Wells, who had since taken the reins of the show from Aaron Sorkin, was apparently using these guest spots as a way to audition actors for a potentially longer stint on the show. In essence, my new confidante was telling me, “Don't eff it up!”
Nobody Walks on the Hill!
John Hurley, my freshman football coach, ended the first practice of our ninth grade season by surprising the team with an order to take a lap around a tree that was perched atop a very steep hill that sloped down to our practice field. Mistakenly assuming we were done caused me to get a late jump on the run and, having hustled my butt off for the previous two hours, I struggled and came in almost dead last. I specifically remember thinking that maybe I wasn't cut out for this level of play and eighth grade football was my limit. But I stuck it out, stayed around, and had a good season. Building on that freshman year, I had three more good seasons, playing through the end of high school. I also quickly learned Coach Hurley's most famous catchphrase, “Nobody walks on the hill!” He was referring to that steep hill we had to climb after that first practice. Every time we ascended it, from that first practice on, it was drilled into our heads that we could not walk it. Instead, no matter how tired we might be, we had to sprint up.
“Nobody walks on the hill!” is a mantra I still use with my kids to this day. In fact, I use it myself for everything from motivation in the gym to prep work for roles to my overall daily hustle. It was front of my mind my first day on The West Wing, when I was called to set. They were finishing a scene in a school classroom before we moved on to my first scene. That's where I first met Bradley Whitford. I had seen his work on the show, and his combination of flawless machine-gun-fire dialogue combined with his loose-as-a-goose vibe was frighteningly good. I was also aware at this point that he had won an Emmy Award, among many other accolades, for his portrayal of Josh Lyman. On top of this, I was aware that all of my scenes in this episode consisted of me leading the charge down hallways. My character was driving the action and dialogue while flanked by actors whose work I knew, who had also been on the show far longer than me: Whitford, Smits, Teri Polo, and Janeane Garofalo, among others.
But that fear, of being the guy who comes in and turns out to be the fly in the ointment, actually saved me. Knowing that preparation and work ethic were my best weapons against the nerves associated with a high-stakes gig, I threw myself into the prep as soon as I was cast. With limited time for the in-depth research that I'd eventually do, I ran the scenes over and over, drilling the lines frontward, backward, and sideways. I'd run the scenes while I was driving, at the gym, walking around … in an Irish accent, a Southern accent … anything I could do so that I didn't have to think about lines at all once we got rolling. I thought about my character's relationship to the candidate, Matt Santos, and to the other characters as well as to the campaign itself. On my first day on the show, and all through that episode, “La Palabra,” I never faltered. I was prepared, but not overconfident. Other actors, even ones I admired so much, had moments that caused us to have to cut, but I did not.
To be clear, acting is not about memorizing your lines. In my opinion, the best acting takes place between the lines. Great acting is great listening. And there are many times when, as long as you're exploring during a take, you can go up on your lines and have to stop the scene and still have usable material in that take. But an actor is usually only allowed that freedom once they are known, trusted, and have proven themselves to the director and other actors. When you're a rookie on the set, you do not want to be that person, particularly on a show that involves long and winding walk-and-talks with a Steadicam. While there was not much particularly emotional heavy lifting required of me in that first episode, my work ethic helped me prove to them that I might be an asset to the cast.
I was asked back to The West Wing two episodes later in the season 6 finale, and invited to the end-of-year wrap party. As I was leaving the party to head back to the East Coast, Executive Producer and Director Alex Graves said, “We'll see you at the end of the summer.” I said, “Can you put that in writing?” They called my reps over the summer, guaranteeing me three out of the first five episodes in season 7, and that led to me being a significant player in what turned out to be the show's last season. I stuck around all the way through the series finale, in which my character got his own office in the West Wing.
My talent helped me in my West Wing experience, but I credit most of that run to my work ethic. I also credit my belief in Coach Hurley's mantra, “Nobody walks on the hill!” My healthy dose of fear, which served as a motivator, was also key. The West Wing material I was given did not exactly allow me to truly stretch my acting muscles. But, much like my time on The Sopranos, which you'll hear about in another chapter, it continues to help me score jobs to this day because it was such a high-pedigree and culturally relevant television show.
“Driving to auditions that are anywhere from six to eight hours away, maybe even sometimes twice a week. So, you're living in Atlanta, but you're driving to New Orleans for auditions. I'm talking one-liners. When you talk about the grind. When you talk about work ethic. When you talk about being committed. That's where you learn because you are grateful.”
—Melissa Ponzio, Actor, Teen Wolf, Chicago Fire
When I reflect upon work ethic, I often think of a famous quote from Robert De Niro's directorial debut, A Bronx Tale. After his character's son asks him if he has talent, De Niro tells the kid he has all the talent in the world. This prompts the boy to ask if he can be a pro baseball player someday. De Niro responds, “The saddest thing in life is wasted