When it comes to acting jobs, having tiny eyebrows, crazy expressive eyes, and a distinct lack of facial bones means that I tend to play the weirdo. Yes, that’s right. If you’re looking for ‘quirky’, I’m your gal. Apparently. (Except if it’s Hollywood. In that world ‘quirky’ means sticking a supermodel in dungarees and no-makeup makeup and giving her an easel to stand near until the jock rescues her from doing art by turning her into a shallow dullard whose only hobby is bulimia.) Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE playing the weirdo. But variety is the… well, you know that. Otherwise you’d have a proper job and be quite jaded but with fancy bedding and stuff. And then there is voiceover work…

This morning, I rolled out from under my low-grade bed sheets, gave the armpits a quick baby-wipe shower, slid my androgynous body into the most pyjama-like non-pyjamas I could find, and spent some quality time with the star player, The Script, before cycling to a voice audition. To play a hot-as-hell, giant-breasted, power-shouldered Celtic spirit guide. Like, I bet this lady has loads of bones in her face. And Cara Delevigne eyebrows. And the sorts of eyes that make you feel super special but like, calm too. See, voiceover work turns us all into walking Obama campaigns. Yes We Can. If I can sound like I gots man shoulders, then OMG I GOTS MAN SHOULDERS!!! All it takes is a well-placed whisper, a pregnant pause, and a wry smile behind the mic to transform into a gamer’s favourite imaginary girlfriend… And how very refreshing! The very worst thing about being an actor with ladybits, even a ‘quirky’ one, is that The Morning Of has to be spent burning head hair into a more acceptable shape, removing any other hair altogether, covering your face in a goo that is exactly the same colour as that face only better somehow, and squeezing into this sort of portable torture chamber labelled ‘Spanxs’. Cycling is a no-no because ladies don’t sweat. So doing eye makeup on the tube it is! If you’re lucky enough to get that botched, eh, I mean, finished before you get to your stop, maybe, just maybe you can read through that all-important script. Like, once. But god, what a drag… (Spielberg, if you’re reading, ignore EVERYTHING I’m saying. I would get a face transplant to work with you.)

So give me a voiceover audition any day. I may turn up in nightwear but with a flick of the tongue I’ll have those gamers listening to Barry White and wishing. Hard. I’ll be your spirit guide. Or your dainty Russian ballerina. Or your satisfied business passenger from the United Arab Emirates. I’ll be your seven-year-old boy being chased by a liger. Hell, I’ll be the liger- GRRRR! I could even do you a good talking falafel. Because when it comes to voiceover work…

YES. WE. CAN.

Written by Amy McAllister