Child actors: a mother’s perspective

As I was watching the Oscars last night (and not missing for one minute my days of living in the general Hollywood/Highland vicinity), I recalled last year’s nominations. Quvenzhané Wallis, now ten years old, was nominated for Best Actress for her role in “Beasts of the Southern Wild.”

As the youngest Best Actress nominee in Oscar history, she looked like a pint-sized princess in her dramatic blue gown — and like a regular nine year old who carries her stuffed animal purse with her wherever she goes.

The dichotomous image of a little girl on a red carpet — part colleague of celebrated starlets, and part child to the rest of the world — was cautiously endearing. Most of America was rooting for her win, and although she didn’t take home an Oscar, she certainly walked away with a good story for show and tell (plus dozens of other nominations and wins).

Then things got nasty, because Hollywood “critics” (which is everybody) are rude and shamelessly lacking in moral boundaries. A well-known satire website — let’s just call it “The Onion” — tweeted a horribly distasteful and disrespectful comment toward Quvenzhané.

The tweet provoked deserved outrage by anybody with eyeballs and a computer, but ethical issues were still raised regarding the indefatigable debate about child actors. By the way, it was in fact The Onion.

Should children be allowed to work in the entertainment industry? Should adolescents — and even younger children — be considered fair game for the crude invasion of their personal lives that inevitably results from stardom? Most will agree that the latter question is ridiculous. Children are children, regardless of whether or not they are lucky enough to sign with a major agency such as Osbrink by age five. Still, this obsessive invasion does happen, and it is something that every ‘’stage parent” is aware of.

Before I had my son and was still auditioning (aggressively) and working (minimally) in the entertainment industry, I auditioned for a role for which I was completely unfit. The casting office had several rooms with vastly different projects all auditioning on the same day, which is typical and exhausting for all.

As I hovered next to the door for my project, I watched young children come and go from the door next to mine. They were reading for a commercial of some sort, and most of the kids seemed prone to situation-induced ADHD and anxiety. They were squirmy and boastful, imbued with an age-inappropriate sense of competition.

A sweaty father of three ordered his daughters to “straighten up and focus”, and when his demand was met by whiny almost-tears, he promised the girls McDonalds if they got through their audition without much fuss. Only one boy sat quietly, immersed in some kind of personal child Zen.

All of this may seem disgusting, but let’s not forget that The Industry is indiscriminately uncivil at best. There are many well-adjusted and happy children whose natural dispositions are suited for acting. Although most of them won’t achieve the same level of fame as Dakota Fanning or Macaulay Culkin, they will be grateful for the extra cash they’ve earned as they approach college.

My son and I are signed with a child and maternity specific talent agency. When Dante was around nine months old, we did a photo shoot together. When I arrived on set, I was introduced to the “set mom”, who was also a tutor for older children.

She played with Dante and changed him as I sat in hair and makeup and nobody else was allowed to touch him. When older kids showed up for their shoots, she helped them with their homework and conversed with them as though they were her own.

There was also a man referred to as a “child wrangler” (for real). His job was to entertain the kids and distract the babies with loud toys long enough for the photographer to get some good shots.

Dante and I shot for a total of an hour and a half, broken up by plenty of breaks. He was cheery and curious, and very happy to be the center of attention.

Before we were even submitted for the audition, I had to obtain his work permit and set up a Coogan account into which I would deposit his earnings. This is a type of savings account, named for former child actor Jackie Coogan, that protects a child’s money until he turns eighteen, so his family doesn’t get any sneaky ideas. The regulations for children working in entertainment are strictly enforced as compared to the exploitative tendencies of the early days of film and television.

Granted, there is a huge difference between modeling and acting work. It is far easier to get still photographs of a baby than it is to shoot an entire scene with a baby. With film, you are accounting for other actors and the delivery of lines, and the baby’s vocal interference. I personally have no desire for my son to become a recognizable child actor.

My plan (parenting and planning really don’t go hand in hand, but one can dream) is to let Dante model for a few more years, so long as he genuinely enjoys it. Once he enters kindergarten, then it’s a wrap. I don’t believe that interfering with an elementary aged child’s schooling is fair or appropriate, unless it is for some big deal, Olson twin-level opportunity.

Because of the stigma of involving one’s child in anything that can be perceived as self-fulfilling, I assumed that I would be one of only a handful of moms toting their young babies to auditions. Wrong.

I’ve met very nice, intelligent, and kind moms (and dads) at my son’s agency and on our go-sees. All are deservedly enamored with their children and simply proud to be on an audition. The only competitive gleam I’ve seen in other mothers’ eyes is the same one we all flash on the playground when there is only one available swing.

The only difference I see between allowing a child to pursue his/her ideations of Hollywood, and encouraging one’s child to do something different and exciting, is…oh, wait.

Of all the things a five year old could do, shooting a commercial or two really isn’t the worst. If he takes karate classes, he will be exposed to combative aggression and physical injury. If he takes gymnastics, he will be exposed to even more physical injury. If he learns a team sport, he will endure social pressure from his peers, and the same amount of performance pressure that he would encounter on a film or photo set.

Have you ever witnessed an episode between an overly strict mother and her unwilling child as he is being dragged to violin practice? It’s terrifying. The only difference between a Violin Mom and a Stage Mom is the prestige with which people endow classical music. With the former, the mother is being crazy for the betterment of the child. With the latter, the mother is being crazy for the betterment of the child’s bank account.

Now, hold on. If you’ve ever been hit with an errant musical instrument, then you might think twice before putting these two scenarios in different categories. Personally, I’ll take a solid savings account over a bruised cheek and an abhorrence of Brahms.