Artists Need To Be Animals
At its core, an artist is an individual who aspires with great ambition to be successful, but the irony lies in that the industry which they work so diligently within does not support their pursuit. It is ruthlessly competitive, highly unpredictable, and promisingly unfair — It is a jungle… and yes, there is a reason for that, and no, I hold no animosity against this place as it currently is what it is. However, for the purposes of this conversation, the million-dollar question I would like to strive to shed some light on is: How does an artist obtain success in an environment built to chew them up and spit them out?
Based off personal experience, I would suggest the artist behave like an animal. I have behaved like an animal for the last seven years in this field and my present status as a working screenwriter is the result of it — Now, let me be clear on what I mean by ‘behave like an animal.’
I am not suggesting an artist behave aggressively, vindictively, or viciously toward others while shooting for the stars — I mean just the opposite. In my opinion, the artist who behaves like an animal is one who has the capability of properly evaluating their current environment and effectively makes efficient decisions to put their best foot forward — not be the ‘dog-eat-dog’ cliché stereotype most worry about in the office. To achieve success, one should behave with the upmost care of oneself, their community, and their environment… like an animal.
When you study any animal long enough you will find all it desires is to live without conflict. Another interpretation of the animalist behavior is to operate with the hope of obtaining harmony. However, harmony does not retain people’s attention. Society seems to only be interested in the moment when an animal shows its teeth — this is known as the ‘fight response’ outlined by the psychology article, Verywell Mind. That said, this incident only occurs after an animal is backed into a corner with no escape. According to The Guest House article outlining the correlation between human trauma and instinct, “Most often, animals will choose flight over fight.” So, if the animalistic behavior is designed to avoid conflict, why is the label of an animal perceived through a negative lens?
For some reason, being labeled an animal is a common euphemism which highlights a person’s flawed behavior. The Simon Fraser University blog states, “You can insult a person by calling them an animal name, [thus] putting them in a position inferior to human.” For example, a ‘wolf’ is a person who is territorial, a ‘snake’ is someone who cheats, and a ‘chicken’ is a coward — The list goes on, but I think we should shift that perception and entertain a more realistic outlook.
If you strip away the cosmetics of personal evaluation, we are left in a world where wolves kill to protect their territory, snakes slip through cracks to eat rats, and chickens flee when a fox enters the coop because it is simply in their nature to do so. According to the article, Understanding Animal Behaviour, an animal’s actions can be categorized in four different methods: instinct, imprinting, conditioning, and imitation, but without delving further into the weeds of zoology, in a Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs point of view, the basic motive for every action an animal makes, which defines its behavior, is designed to do one thing — ensure survival.
Nothing else matters — To survive is an animal’s only objective and they will do everything in their power to achieve that goal. So, what does that mean for an artist and how does ‘behaving like an animal’ help someone with great passion achieve success? I believe this screenplay excerpt of Mel Brook’s The Producers (1967) answers that question:
For context, in the film, co-lead Max Bialystock is a washed up, dishonest Broadway producer trying to cheat success alongside his spineless business partner, Leo Bloom, a savvy, yet naïve accountant, and their scheme is simple. Put on a sure-fire flop, designed to close in one night, so they can rake in the box-office proceeds, and escape to Rio without paying back the investors. To their surprise though, the show turns out to be a hit!
Here is the trailer:
Soon after, the IRS comes to collect, and as one last endeavor to clear out, Max gives Franz Liebkind, the German actor who plays Hitler in the stage play, a gun with the instruction to shoot all the actors! Leo, being the moral compass character in the narrative, leaps in, takes the gun, and makes a point of correcting Max’s perception of artists. Max takes Leo’s comment into consideration, but quickly retorts with a funny comment inferring that his business partner has a lot to learn about the entertainment industry.
Now, the scene is comical due to the ridiculous high-stake scenario poking fun at the ‘starving artist’ bit, and the film itself is a hysterical riot, but if you ponder Max’s line of thinking when it comes to associating the animal label to artists, I do not think he is too far off… In fact, I think his play was a hit because he mistakenly hired animals to put it on.
When an animal is hired to do a job which mirrors their craft, something amazing happens. They put everything they have into whatever it is they are working on because if the product becomes a hit, they will be able to survive a little while longer — Cause and effect. However, this is the application of many years of decisions made by the artist which are outside of the norm…
Artists are unique people when it comes to the practice of decision-making. They spend years finding ways to finetune their craft even though there is no guarantee of success, but the beautiful aspect to note here is every choice they make is designed to support their dream. The teenager working at a fast-food joint to collect enough money to buy a camera is behaving like an animal. The woman paying a babysitter to look after her child so she can sing the blues on a streetcorner is an animal. The man who drives an hour to volunteer his time teaching a first level sculpting class to practice his craft is an animal. This lifestyle is sacrificial, but when one is given the opportunity to perfect their passion, the sacrifice is not considered a detriment.
Here is a personal story of how I behaved like an animal; As soon as I obtained my bachelor’s degree in 2016 and pursued acting, I quickly learned a 9 to 5 job would not allow me to go on auditions during the day. So, I traded a desk for a bar and stools. Being a bartender allowed me to audition, time-off when I landed a gig, and an additional income for two years. However, this choice I made led me to become a work-acholic and disallowed the availability of having a life outside of acting or slinging cocktails. In comparison to my friends who sat at a desk and were all getting married, I sacrificed my community to go after my dream… but it eventually rendered a deep concern and frustration about my future.
Looking back, one of the individuals who helped me out of this anxiety, outside of my family, was a B-List actress who used to be critically acclaimed and shall remain nameless. She said, “If something else in this world makes you happy, do that instead.” It is a bit cliché, but her point is valid: The artist must make their mental health priority number one during the pursuit of a dream because this path is a construct of uncertainty, rejection, and apprehension. So, how do we take flight from these constructs? Well, the artist finds harmony in life starting with goal orientation.
The perceived goal of an artist is to achieve stardom, but I think if an artist stopped comparing themselves to others and pursued a genuine connection instead, or if they found ways to live below their means instead of racking up debt, or if they truly celebrated the achievements of their community and were willing to help the process, it could lead to the artist’s own success!
But what is success, really? I find if you ask five different people this question, you will get five different answers. This tells me no one truly understands what success is thus making it what I call, ‘specifically vague.’ Meaning, it is intentionally void of direction and clarity.
I find being specifically vague very dangerous when it comes to the idealization of success. It can lead to misdirection, frustration, and potential failure. The same thing can be said about the use of other words such as, “love,” and “hate.” An artist wants to be successful, but if they do not understand what success is, then they have begun digging their own grave.
On this topic, I would like to entertain the aspect of success differently than you are used to conceptualizing it. Most people think of success as an ideal, a status of life, or a feeling of prosperity… which is great. However, I find flaw in this line of thinking because all those elements are intangible. So, before the artist becomes an animal, they must think like one and redefine the concept of success in a tangible form.
An animal understands everything in physical terms — a comprehensible goal measured in procedural steps which outlines a road map of some design to achieve a term. For example, in The Producers, Max wants to be successful which is technically intangible, but he declares success as becoming rich and even outlines a road map to Leo on how to achieve that term — Step 1: Find the worst play ever written — Step 2: Find the worst director in town — Step 3: Find the worst actors — Step 4: Open on Broadway, “And before you can say step five, we close on Broadway, take our two million, and go to Rio!” He may not know it, but Max is an animal.
So, instead of the artist saying they want to be successful, I think they should say, “I want to make an ‘X’ amount of money this month,” or “I want this job with this company,” or “I want to make this product for this particular group of people on this particular set date.” The list goes on, but the more tangible and precisely defined success is to an artist — the more efficient they can make efficient decisions to survive the jungle.
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Genuinely,
