Last night, after almost a year of anticipation, I received a set of DVDs from my second workshop in Vegas. Naturally, I hastened to play the videos and see how I fared. I knew that I had passed and that many of my friends had heaped praise on my performances, but I wanted to see for myself. I did well. I say that with appropriate sincerity. If I thought I had been of higher or lower quality than simply above average (within my groups of peers) I would have said. I could use the boost. No. I did well.

As with the previous year, I will put the videos up on youtube so other people can put in their two cents. My enthusiasm made me show some of my co-workers my videos. They watched mainly to be supportive. These videos, I think, are not particularly impressive to “outsiders.” For one, they are filmed versions of theater fights, so they don’t seem particularly fast. For another, they are staged without much flair, just blank stages.

Don’t get me wrong. My colleagues were polite and mildly entertained, possibly moreso by some of the more standout members of my class. It’s my fault for expecting them to have the same reaction without a vested interest or trained eye. And my eye is seeking out all the flaws that the audience will see. That makes me a good fight director, I guess, but it’s a little tough on the ego.

It does make me wonder a bit whether my current students see me as a skilled combatant, or merely a skilled teacher. I am not sure. My friends in the combat class really stroked my fragile ego with talk of me winning Best Actor. I can hardly be heard on the tapes. So that’s another criticism that I took too lightly. I need to be louder.

But all self-doubt aside, I did well. I made real progress in acting, and my body language is very different in each of the characters I perform, even in my renewals, which are not full scenes. I think I am exactly where I should be, not a master, but a dedicated and skilled student. Soon, I will have my black belt in stage combat, so to speak.

A combat friend of mine wrote an article in the latest quarterly for the SAFD. It’s all about the New York theater scene and her assertion that there is room there for everyone. She makes it clear that work ethic and a certain fearlessness when it comes to your living arrangements are all that is necessary to “make it.” I think I have always known that, but I am lacking that fearlessness.

Occasionally, I make great strides in that area, putting myself on the block with this whole SAFD thing in the beginning felt terrifying. Fortunately, most people in the organization are really kind and well-meaning. How people with such a penchant for bloody violence — staged though it may be — are always so open and kind to new people was a mystery at first.

But once you’re in, you realize that even the most unsociable in the group must be ready to trust another person with their safety, sometimes within minutes of meeting them. I have to say, stuntmen and stage fighters are probably some of the nicest and most well-adjusted people you will ever meet.

Having said that though, I was discouraged by some of my peers, including teachers from trying to make my way in the big markets of New York, LA and even Chicago. Their arguments seemed valid. There might not be enough room for everyone in the specialized and still largely unrecognized field of fight direction. Lisa seems to think otherwise. Her positive attitude is thrilling, but I want to be realistic about my specific chances.

After all, I won’t get much work as an extra. I don’t look like an average joe, even though my style is nearly identical to most people of my body shape and baldness. That style is associated with bouncers and wrestlers and tough types, which spurs me on my workout track quite strongly. I won’t get the part of the burly bouncer if I’m not actually large enough to be intimidating.

I have paid close attention to the stunt performers in the films I watch and I rarely see the same names. So steady work as a stuntman must be difficult to come by, as well. So, I’m in this position of being essentially typecast as I go professional because I look so specific, but not being remarkable in that specificity. I stand out, but I am not unique. Tyler Durden would be so proud of that realization.