You Can Want the Role and Still Root for the Person Next to You

by Chris Peterson

I saw a post from an actor complaining about people who leave an in-person audition room and say “good luck” to the performers waiting outside. The point seemed to be that nobody is actually rooting for each other, so why pretend?

I’ll be honest. I hate that attitude.

Not because auditioning is easy. It isn’t. Auditions can make even the most grounded person feel insecure, competitive, and a little paranoid. You walk into a room and see ten people who could all plausibly be there for the same role. Maybe they look like you. Maybe they sing like you. Maybe one of them seems so relaxed that you immediately start questioning every choice you made on the train ride over.

I get how that can mess with your head.

But I also think one of the healthiest things an actor can learn is how to root for other people without feeling like you are giving something away.

Saying “good luck” in an audition hallway is not some fake act of sainthood. It is usually just one actor acknowledging another actor in a stressful situation. It is a tiny moment of kindness in a process that often gives performers very little of it.

And honestly, you should be rooting for them.

You should want the person before you to go in there and do good work. You should want the person after you to feel steady enough to give their best audition.

That does not mean you want to lose the role. Of course you want the job. Wanting the job is not the problem.

The problem is when wanting the job makes you look at everyone else like they are in your way.

The actor sitting across from you is not the enemy. They are just another person trying to survive the same strange process.

And sometimes they book it. Sometimes you do. Sometimes neither of you do because the creative team went in a completely different direction. That is the business.

What you can control is how you move through it.

I have always respected actors who can compete and still be kind. The ones who come prepared, take the work seriously, and still make space for other people to succeed. Those are the people I want in rehearsal rooms. Those are the people I want backstage.

So yes, say good luck. Mean it. Let other people be good in the room.

If the only way you can feel competitive is by hoping everyone else does poorly, that is not ambition. That is insecurity wearing a meaner outfit.