What "Look" Actually Means in Business Headshots

Let me be blunt about something most actors misunderstand: casting type isn't about your acting range. It's about what we see in your headshot in the first three seconds.

The Business of 'Look'

When I say 'type,' I'm talking about instant visual reads. Do you look like a movie star? Great—but more often, I need someone who looks like a thug. A reporter. A mom. A great aunt. A cop. Sometimes you're lucky and that type gets a name. Most times, you're 'Man at Bar' or 'Concerned Neighbor.'

No disrespect intended, but if you think like a business, 'looks' for an actor are worth their weight in gold. Literally.

The Reality of Competition

Here's a true story that explains everything: For a co-star role with one line—'No, he's not over here'—we saw submissions from over a hundred full-time working actors. These aren't beginners. These are professionals making their rounds, looking for their break.

That break could come from this throwaway line. It could come from a chicken commercial. Who knows?

But here's what we do know: In the first two hours after posting, two thousand actors submitted their headshots. Another couple thousand came in over the weekend.

Think about that. Four thousand submissions. One role. One line.

What Gets You in the Room

Here's the part most actors miss: Almost everyone we called in for the audition looked the part. In their headshot. That they submitted. That's supposed to represent who they are now.

Not who they were two years ago when they had different hair. Not who they'll be after they lose those fifteen pounds. Not their 'range' across multiple character types.

Now.

Why This Matters for Your Headshot

When I'm looking at four thousand submissions, I'm not studying each one. I can't. The math doesn't work.

I'm scanning. Fast.

Your headshot has maybe three seconds to tell me: 'This person is the type I'm looking for.'

If your headshot is outdated, I'm seeing the wrong person. If it's trying to show me range—commercial smile, dramatic intensity, quirky character all in different shots—you're making me work too hard. I move on.

If your headshot clearly shows me you are the soccer dad I need, or the tough detective, or the nurturing teacher, or whatever specific type this role requires—you're in the pile that gets a closer look.

The Headshot's Job

Your headshot isn't about showing off the photographer's skills. It's not about artistic expression. It's not even primarily about looking attractive (though professional quality matters).

Your headshot's job is simple: Show me your current, castable type clearly.

Because when I need a 'mom,' I need to see 'mom' instantly. When I need 'corporate executive,' that better jump off the screen. When I need 'intimidating bouncer,' don't send me your friendly approachable look and hope I'll imagine you differently.

What 'Current' Actually Means

That asterisk at the end matters: 'supposed to represent who they are now.'

Too many actors are submitting headshots that don't match who walks in the door. Different weight. Different hair. Different age, even.

That's not just frustrating for me—it's career suicide for you. Even if you're perfect for the role in person, if your headshot didn't match, I've already moved past your submission. You never even get the chance to audition.

The Bottom Line

In a business where four thousand people compete for one line, your headshot is your only competitive advantage in that initial three-second scan.

Make it count. Make it current. Make it clearly show your castable type.

Everything else is just hoping.