Conversations with Alison Chace

Original Article: voyageatl.com

Today we’d like to introduce you to Alison Chace.

Hi Alison, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?

I’ve always thought life was a comedy. Occasionally a thriller. And, depending on the casting director, a psychological horror film.

At the moment, it’s a rather exhilarating production with an increasingly ambitious shooting schedule.

I have three Lifetime movies coming out in which I play the lead, a leading role in a French independent film, and appearances in Myron Bolitar and American Horror Story. I also recently shot a delightfully outrageous BlueChew commercial, which should put to rest any lingering suspicion that my career is becoming predictable.

One minute I’m navigating a murder investigation. The next I’m discussing erectile dysfunction. Hollywood does love a woman with range.

The auditions keep coming, the bookings keep multiplying, and my calendar has begun to resemble an elaborate military operation. I’m constantly learning lines, meeting directors, slipping into someone else’s wardrobe, and trying to remember which fictional husband I’m currently furious with.

It’s wonderful.

What’s particularly satisfying is that the work keeps getting more interesting. The roles are richer, the opportunities more varied, and the people I get to work with endlessly fascinating. I’m not particularly interested in arriving anywhere. I’m having far too much fun moving.

My path into acting was gloriously circuitous. I hosted a television show for PlumTV, interviewed fascinating people, wrote two books, launched a podcast, and directed an award-winning documentary.

And I raised two wonderful sons, which remains the greatest joy and most meaningful accomplishment of my life. Being their mother gave me a deeper appreciation for love, humor, patience, and the extraordinary richness of ordinary moments. It also gave me something every actor needs: a genuine curiosity about other people’s inner lives.

I found my artistic home at The Barrow Group, where I fell in love with the beautiful unpredictability of collaboration. During the pandemic, I helped bring together more than 60 artists for over 300 play readings. We couldn’t go anywhere, so naturally we decided to become other people.

But I’m far more interested in the next chapter than in providing a guided tour of the previous ones.

I love the audacity of independent filmmaking, where imagination can be more valuable than a lavish budget. I love television, where a character can reveal an entire history in a single glance. And I love walking onto a set where everyone, from the director to the person making the coffee, is working toward the same improbable illusion.

I even love auditioning. It’s a peculiar profession in which you’re asked to become someone else in your living room, often with a stranger reading lines from behind an iPhone. Sometimes you book the job. Sometimes you don’t. Either way, you’ve spent the afternoon living another life.

And lately, I’ve been booking quite a few of them.

People occasionally ask what the secret is. I wish I had something more glamorous to offer than curiosity, preparation, persistence, and a willingness to look ridiculous. But those qualities have served me remarkably well.

I don’t believe success is a finite commodity, or that someone else’s good fortune diminishes your own. I love introducing people, championing talented friends, and watching wonderful things happen for them.

As for the future, I’d like more complicated women, more extraordinary collaborators, more adventures in unfamiliar places, and perhaps a role in which nobody gets murdered.

Although I’m certainly not ruling it out.

The best part of this career is that I have absolutely no idea what I’ll be doing six months from now.

I just have a very good feeling about it.

ALISON CHACE’S HOT TIP: Audition for everything that interests you. Be prepared, be bold, and then forget about it. Obsessing over an audition is like checking the oven every 30 seconds. It doesn’t make the soufflé rise.

SUGGESTED READING: The Art of Possibility by Rosamund Stone Zander and Benjamin Zander. Because life gets considerably more interesting when you stop treating it like a competition with limited seating.

LITTLE LUXURY: Cold water. Ice cubes. A quick face dip. Emerge looking like you’ve inherited a vineyard.

A MORNING MEDITATION: May I remain curious, generous, and open to surprise. And may today’s script be better than yesterday’s.

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Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?

Smooth? Darling, this is show business. If you want smooth, I recommend a facial.

Acting is a profession built on uncertainty, extravagant imagination, and the occasional email that begins, “Unfortunately, we’ve decided to go in another direction.” Apparently, Hollywood has more directions than Google Maps.

I’ve had wonderful opportunities, spectacular near misses, and auditions I was convinced I’d nailed, only to discover that someone else had apparently nailed them harder.

The trick is not to confuse rejection with a verdict on your worth.

You can give a terrific audition and not book the job. You can be exactly right for a character and still lose the role to someone with a different hairstyle, a different energy, or a remarkable resemblance to the director’s third wife. There are a thousand variables, most of which have absolutely nothing to do with talent.

I’ve learned to prepare thoroughly, make interesting choices, give everything I have, and then move on. Preferably before I’ve refreshed my email 47 times.

One of the challenges of acting is that there’s no reliable formula. You can do everything right and hear nothing. Then, on an ordinary Tuesday, the phone rings and suddenly you’re flying across the country to play a woman with a complicated marriage and a suspiciously large life insurance policy.

I rather love that.

My career has taken an unconventional route, but I wouldn’t trade any part of it. Raising my two wonderful sons was the great privilege of my life. The experiences, relationships, and adventures along the way have given me a rich collection of human stories to draw upon. I didn’t arrive at acting empty-handed. I arrived with a life.

And I’ve discovered that the industry is much more enjoyable when you stop treating every audition as a referendum on your future.

Some of the most interesting opportunities have come from unexpected places. A small role leads to a wonderful director. An audition that goes nowhere introduces you to a casting director who remembers you six months later. A commercial turns into an absurdly entertaining day on set. The career develops its own peculiar logic.

What keeps me going is that I genuinely love the work. I still get ridiculously excited when I see production trucks parked on a city street. Other people see a traffic obstruction. I see possibility. I’m practically ready to knock on the trailer door and ask whether they need a district attorney.

I’ve also learned that comparison is a spectacular waste of imagination. Someone else’s booking doesn’t diminish mine. There is room for an astonishing number of stories, and I happen to enjoy cheering for the people telling them.

These days, with auditions coming constantly and projects stacking up, I find myself less concerned with the occasional disappointment and much more interested in what might happen next.

The road hasn’t always been smooth. But it has been fascinating, surprising, frequently hilarious, and increasingly rewarding.

And I have no intention of getting off.

ALISON CHACE’S HOT TIP: Don’t turn one disappointment into your entire life story. Your brain is a storyteller, not always a reliable narrator. Give it better material.

SUGGESTED READING: Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl. A profound reminder that we may not control every circumstance, but we can choose how we respond.

LITTLE LUXURY: Hot shower. Fresh pajamas. Luxurious body oil. You can’t wash away rejection, but you can make it smell like Provence.

A LITTLE PRAYER: May I have the courage to keep showing up, the wisdom not to take every disappointment personally, and the good sense to enjoy the ride.

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Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?

Hollywood has a curious habit of casting women as either the person in charge or the person having a nervous breakdown. I’ve been fortunate enough to play both. Occasionally in the same scene.

I’m an actress, writer, director, producer, and enthusiastic collector of interesting people. I’ve appeared in Succession, Elsbeth, The Rookie, Law & Order, Zero Day, and For All Mankind. Coming up are three Lifetime movies in which I play the lead, a leading role in a French independent film, and appearances in Myron Bolitar and American Horror Story.

I also recently shot a wonderfully mischievous BlueChew commercial. One minute it’s prestige television, the next it’s erectile dysfunction. I consider it range.

I specialize in intelligent, accomplished women: attorneys, executives, news anchors, women who know exactly who’s lying and where the bodies are buried. I particularly enjoy characters who appear perfectly composed while their private lives are quietly catching fire.

Having hosted television myself, I’m comfortable with teleprompters, improvisation, and the peculiar art of looking serene while someone is shouting instructions into my ear.

I’m also a devoted believer in preparation. Anthony Hopkins has described reading a script upward of 200 times until the lines become second nature. Only then can an actor fully believe in the imaginary circumstances. That’s my philosophy, too. Know your lines inside out, backward, forward, sideways, and diagonally. Then forget about the mechanics and actually live in the scene.

I’ve written two books, created comedy projects, and directed an award-winning documentary. I love storytelling from every angle, although directing has taught me that even the most beautiful artistic vision eventually involves a conversation about parking.

Of everything I’ve accomplished, I’m proudest of raising my two wonderful sons. Watching them become the people they are has been the greatest joy and privilege of my life. Nothing professionally could ever eclipse that.

Creatively, I’m particularly proud of helping create LMC Productions, which connected more than 60 artists through over 300 play readings during the pandemic. It reminded me how much I love bringing talented people together.

What sets me apart? Curiosity, preparation, humor, and genuine affection for people. I believe talent matters, but so does being someone others actually want to work with again.

The auditions keep coming, the bookings keep multiplying, and the characters keep getting more interesting. I’m having an extraordinary time.

And I can’t wait to see what happens next.

ALISON CHACE’S HOT TIP: Know your lines so thoroughly that you can forget about them. Preparation gives you the freedom to be spontaneous.

SUGGESTED READING: The Courage to Create by Rollo May.

LITTLE LUXURY: A fabric shaver rescues a tired sweater. Suddenly you’re wearing vintage Italian knitwear instead of evidence.

A THOUGHT TO KEEP: Some of our most beautiful creations are invisible: kindness, friendship, and the confidence we give one another.

Risk taking is a topic that people have widely differing views on – we’d love to hear your thoughts.

I’ve always admired people who take risks. Particularly the ones who do it by first consulting 14 friends, three therapists, and their horoscope.

I’m a great believer in calculated risks, although some of my calculations have been suspiciously optimistic.

I’ve hosted television, written books, directed a documentary, created comedy projects, and raised two wonderful sons. Then I decided to pursue acting professionally. Hollywood, as it turned out, was not waiting with a fruit basket.

But that decision led to roles in Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, FBI, Dear Edward, Countdown, and The Gringo Hunters, along with Lifetime movies and independent films. Now the auditions and bookings keep coming, and the work keeps getting more interesting. I’m rather glad I didn’t wait for a formal invitation.

The most dangerous thing about playing it safe is that it can become a habit. You tell yourself you’ll try something when the timing is better, when you’re more confident, when the stars align. Meanwhile, the stars are busy doing whatever stars do, and you’ve missed a perfectly good opportunity.

I’ve learned to distinguish between fear and intuition. Fear tends to be loud, repetitive, and spectacularly unimaginative. Intuition is quieter. It usually knows something worth listening to.

I also believe in making failure less dramatic. Not every audition becomes a booking. Not every idea deserves a standing ovation. Sometimes you take a chance and fall flat on your face. Ideally, you’re wearing something flattering.

The important thing is not to turn one disappointment into a permanent address.

And resilience doesn’t mean pretending everything is wonderful. Life brings real difficulties, and some cannot be solved with positive thinking and a scented candle. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is ask for help, take a walk, call someone you love, or simply give yourself permission to have a difficult day.

We spend an extraordinary amount of time calculating the risks of trying and almost none calculating the risks of never beginning.

I’d like to remain a beginner at something for the rest of my life. There’s something wonderfully liberating about not knowing exactly what you’re doing and discovering that you might be rather good at it.

Besides, a life without surprises sounds suspiciously like a very long airport layover.

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ALISON CHACE’S HOT TIP: When something excites and scares you, take one small step within 24 hours. Send the email. Make the call. Overthinking is just fear with a better vocabulary.

SUGGESTED READING: Antifragile by Nassim Nicholas Taleb.

LITTLE LUXURY: Cancel unnecessary obligations. Light a candle. Eat something exquisite. Congratulations, you’ve opened a spa with no overhead.

AN EVENING MEDITATION: May I never become so busy building a beautiful life that I forget to live it.

A FINAL THOUGHT: When life brings illness, grief, or loss, you don’t owe anyone a silver lining. Sometimes hope is simply a friend bringing soup, a walk outside, staying in bed all day or a call from someone you love. You don’t have to figure out your entire life before lunch, in fact you never have to figure out your life, ever.