The Truth About What It’s Like Being in a TV Commercial
Did I just see you in a cereal commercial?
-Someone you haven’t spoken to since Grade 8
It’s mindblowing to some, but as an actor, you often dismiss it.
Here’s what it’s like to be on a commercial, from doing the most awkward audition alone in your bedroom to your cousin sending you a video of yourself on their TV.
The Audition
You’re going about your day.
You receive an email from your agent:
“MCDONALD’S AUDITION FOR YOU! PLEASE CONFIRM”
The cap locks always catch your attention.
You stop what you’re doing and read it.
It’s due in 23 hours. But you can record it at home.
No rush.
You’re asked to eat a real sandwich and react to the spice in many different ways.
You wait until the last minute.
The audition is due in 2 hours. You set up your tripod and clean your messy room.
You suddenly remember you need to eat a real sandwich, no miming. You have no bread in the house so you run to the grocery store.
You’re back.
Lights, camera, action.
You start recording different takes of you reacting to the spice. Many are embarrassingly bad, some are decent. You realize you're enjoying the sandwich a little too much.
“Smaller bites,” you tell yourself.
You’ll realize you’re overthinking it. This is a McDonald’s commercial, not a Tarantino flick, and you have no sandwich left.
So you settle.
Then you record your slate, which usually takes the longest time.
You stare at the camera and with a subtle and smile and say:
“Hi, I’m Kadrian Enyia, I’m 6'3, based in Toronto, and I can eat spicy food.’’
You retake that a couple of times because you forgot how to say “hi” naturally.
You send the video to your agent.
All hope usually crumbles here, as most actors may do hundreds of auditions without hearing a word.
If you of the lucky few, you move forward to:
The callback
Maybe four days or two weeks later.
Who knows.
Congratulations, you’re almost there, but don’t get too excited.
You’re going about your day.
You receive an email from your agent:
“MCDONALD’S IN-PERSON CALLBACK! PLEASE CONFIRM”
You can feel the paper cuts from the cheque in the mail already.
You confirm your attendance. This one is in person. Tomorrow.
But you have work tomorrow.
You don’t give a shit. You find a way. Because you’re an actor.
You arrive at the audition.
You arrive 15 minutes early.
You sign in, have your photo taken, then head to the waiting room.
Sometimes it’s very quiet, sometimes it's loud because someone ran into a friend.
You’ll head to the bathroom to give yourself one last safety check.
Now you’re sitting in the waiting room.
People coming in and out of the casting room. Some people come out laughing.
A lot of people look like you. It feels a little weird, but you are quite used to it at this point.
The assistant casting director calls the next group in.
They mispronounce your name.
You don’t correct them.
Your heart sinks despite having done this many times.
You start warming up the smile because the best tool for a commercial is a killer smile.
You’re in the room
You line up amongst your fellow actors in the audition room.
You face the camera, as well as the table of producers, directors, croissants, and cinnamon rolls.
They smell good.
Everyone will take turns doing their slate.
You will either do the same thing you did in the first audition or some slight improv with your “family members”.
You may do one or five takes.
Who knows.
After you finish, they’ll thank you, sometimes genuinely, sometimes dismissingly.
No feedback.
You thank them and you head out.
*Total time at audition: maybe 20 minutes, 1 hour, who knows.
It's 12:37 pm. You cleared an 8-hour shift for a 20-minute appointment, what to do now?
Who knows.
You try your best to forget about the audition.
The more you think about it, the more you’ll go crazy.
If you’re lucky, you’ll receive an email saying you’ve been:
Put on hold
Could be one hour after your call back, or 3 days.
Who knows.
The production has shortened their top picks to a handful of actors and you’re on this prestigious list.
They’re rather indecisive, so you are asked to remain available for the shooting dates, should they decide to pick you. And they might reach out that day, or never.
Who knows.
You work on one of the dates you might shoot the commercial. But you’re an actor.
Time to play the waiting game.
Staying busy is vital.
Don’t ask your agent if they’ve heard anything because that’s taboo.
If they did, they’d tell you.
If you don’t get ghosted, your lucky ass has probably already received:
The phone call
You feel the phone vibrating and think nothing of it. You see the caller ID.
Your agents calling.
“Oh. Shit.”
Your heart sinks and you sigh deeply.
They could only be calling for one reason.
You got the role!
More emails
The next appointment will be wardrobe.
They gave you a date, but no time. You may get it 3 days in advance, or 14 hours.
Who knows.
You receive it, and you:
Arrive at the wardrobe fitting
They tell you to bring your own clothing options.
They’ll end up using their clothing anyway.
You’ll probably only wear one or two outfits on the shooting day, but you proceed to try on a ton of clothing combinations.
Many items will be too tight, or just look outright bad.
Others will make you walk a little taller.
This can go from 45 minutes to over two hours. Who knows.
Hopefully, they have food.
They dont.
Spring water will suffice.
You try on what appears to be the last outfit.
Then they tell you to go sit down.
15 minutes later, you see them occupied with another actor’s wardrobe.
You assume you’re done, but are too shy to ask.
So you wait for them to tell you.
25 minutes pass. They still haven’t told you.
Long enough that it’s awkward NOT to ask. So you do.
“Are we done with Kadrian?” they shout to someone.
Silence.
“Yeah, you’re good to go, see you on set!”
You were told you’ll be shooting in 3 days.
You don’t know what time yet because they’ll email you at about 11 pm, the night before.
Your call time is 6 am.
You’ve set an unnecessary amount of alarms. You’ll end up waking up before any of them.
Let’s get some sleep, because tomorrow:
You’re on set
After many months of auditions and zero calls, you’re finally here.
You begin to wander past plenty of busy people.
Walkie-talkies, large objects, and thick cords are scattered all over the roads.
You’ll keep walking until you for:
The AD
(Assistant Director)
Their job is to ship you from point A to Z as humanly quickly as possible.
They are often friendly, but sometimes, they may project their stress onto you from the urgency they carry.
You’ll get used to it.
AD escorts you to Hair and Makeup. (HMUA)
Might offer to bring you a beverage of choice as well. You’ll hop in a chair and get dolled up.
Make a little small talk. Or big talk.
After you’re finished, you’ll head over to the wardrobe. Don’t smudge your clothing with makeup.

AD will pop their head in the trailer, holding their walkie and clipboard to see if you’re ready.
If you are, they’ll escort you to the set, specifically, where you will be shooting.
You arrive at the camera
They aren’t ready for you yet.
There could be a multitude of reasons why. The cloud is covering the sun and they need the sun for the shot is one example.
As you soon wait, you’ll move to some corner where you feel like you’re not in anyone’s way.
If the set has a “holding” area, you’ll head there. This is where you can sit, relax, and wait until you shoot.
So you’ll head back to the hair and makeup trailer. You’ll probably run into the AD, to which they will ask where you’re going. They must know where you are at all times.
Once you get in the trailer, you see how busy it’s gotten. Other actors have arrived and are being worked on. You’ll awkwardly stand there, chat a bit, then head out since theres no space.
Your hungry, so you make your way to
The craft truck
You pass the AD, to which they ask where you’re going.
“To food,” You tell them.
They remind you to be very careful eating since you have your set clothes on.
Every breakfast snack imaginable on a white table.
Hot meals are by the window.
Get another coffee, why not? It’s all-you-can-eat, baby.
Everybody’s so busy that you feel bad eating.
You want to help.
“Let me carry that over, or walkie-talk that guy,” you think.
As unfortunate as it seems, sitting and waiting is usually the best thing you can do on a commercial set.
You’ll spend most of your time alone despite being surrounded by tons of people, or you’ll be getting to know other actors. It depends on the commercial.
As you begin to peel open the hummus container, AD arrives for you.
They look at your clothing before you, to make sure it’s still clean.
“They’re ready for you.”
You’re standing in front of the camera as they set up.
If you have lines, the sound guy will make his way over, introduce himself, and tape a mic to your body.
As he’s doing that, HMUA will rush over for a final touch-up before the camera.
Wardrobe also will rush over and fix up the clothing.
By now, you’re used to having four people all over your body at once.
You have some butterflies in the tummy.
They never go away.
You’ll do a few rehearsal takes before recording. This is where everyone gets on the same page. Where to move, what to say, and how fast or slow.
“Quiet on set!” Yells the AD from the distance.
“Roll sound,” says the director.
“Sound speeding,” says the sound guy.
“Frame,” says the camera op.
“X, Take X, mark,” says the assistant camera op as he slaps the film slate.
“And…action!”
…
“Cut!”
Everyone will await instruction from the director. It’s not often you’ll get the shot first try.
You, being that actor that you are, will think its all your fault.
“Why did I walk like that? Nobody walks like that.”
Turns out a plane flew by that sound picked up.
Or maybe it was your fault.
No one will care because everyone is so focused on making sure their job is done perfectly.
Take 2
The director may have asked for some slight changes in your delivery and expression.
You may have zero lines and think it’ll be quite straightforward.
All you have to do is walk out the door and say to your mom,
“See you later!”
But how fast should you walk? How fast should you open the door? Should you open it all the way? Should you look at your mom before or after you open the door? Which hand opens the door? What should you do with the other hand? Are you in a rush? Are you scared?
Take 3
You knocked it out of the park. But you didn’t stop exactly on your mark, so you’ll reset.
Soon you’ll be able to decipher how satisfied the director is with a shot by the way he says “cut”.
After they get one shot down. they’ll have to get other angles. Your mom’s POV, your POV, the window’s POV.
“Moving on!” the director shouts.
Camera equipment changes, everyone moves, and things get built and torn down.
You often won’t know if you’re in the next shot. You may have the storyboard, a paper detailing the shots for the day, but they always change the order last minute.
So either you’ll stand and wait for someone to tell you where to go, you’ll ask, or you’ll walk back to holding.
If you walk back, you might be in the next shot.
If you stand and say nothing you might stand for a very long time, and that's annoying.
Best you ask.
Usually, you’ll ask the AD, because the director is busy putting out fires.
They’ll confirm with the director before telling you you’re good to go.
You’ll have a few more shots throughout the day, maybe in a different scene, so you’ll change your outfit and then hang out for one hour, or three hours.
Who knows.
This is set life.
As an actor, you spend a lot of time waiting while everyone else works. Then once it’s your time, you better be ready.
You’ll usually meet someone cool, perhaps a new friend, and calm the nerves.
It’s not abnormal to spend upwards of ten hours on set. Be in good company.
Enough time has passed, and the people are hungry so it’s time for:
Lunch
People may just come around with hot meals that you’ll eat right then and there.
Or you’ll be brought to a large room they rented.
And it’s buffet-style.
Every protein and carb imaginable.
The crew might be a little more used to the daily buffets, so they eat modest portions.
You’re an actor, who the hell knows when you’re going to be shooting a commercial next?
You’ll usually sit with other actors as you’ve spent the most time with them.
Two plates, three plates.
Take three more plates to go.
Shove the Doritos bags in your coat pocketsz
Set life, baby.
Your Final Shot
Maybe.
Who knows.
Based on the storyboard, it is.
You’ll do the same thing. Get touched up, rehearse, a few retakes. And boom.
You're done.
You’ll stand and wait. You may even go back to holding. But you’re quite certain you’re done. So you’ll ask the AD,
“Am I good to go?”
AD will look unsure, and then proceed to find out. This could take one or twenty minutes.
Who knows.
“And that’s a wrap on Kadrian!” Says the AD.
Some people applaud.
The sound guy will find you before you leave and take the taped mic off your skin.
He warns you to brace for the pain. It doesn’t hurt that much.
You’ll hope they let you keep the high-quality socks that you wore and sweat in all day.
Probably not.
You’re back home.
You’re going about your day.
The commercial might air in one month, three months, or never.
You could do an audition, two callbacks, shoot a whole commecial, just receive an email a few months later saying the airing is canceled.
No money for you.
Who knows.
You won’t get an email when your commercial airs.
You’ll get a cheque from your agent.
Pretty sweet.
You still won’t know where to find the actual video.
Wait for the hysterical message from your grandma saying she saw you in an ad she tried to skip.
People you haven’t spoken to in years will be messaging you.
They can’t believe they just saw you on TV.
When you hang out with friends and family, they’ll play it on the big screen and you’ll be all self conscious.
If you were to tell your thirteen-year-old self that you’re on TV, they’d go crazy.
But here you are today, as an actor, incapable of padding yourself on the back because all you can think is,
“When will the next one be?”
Who knows.
Set life, baby.






