Meet Patrick McGowan | Actor, Writer, Director, and Acting Coach

We had the good fortune of connecting with Patrick McGowan and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Patrick, what led you to pursuing a creative path professionally?
There are the reasons I know, the reasons I prefer to think, and the reasons I fear. I know that the plays I did in middle school were the first spaces where I felt like my particular brand of insanity was welcomed, celebrated. I know that I always felt out of sync with the other kids in my grade, as I spent Little League games singing ‘Quit Playing Games’ to myself in the outfield. I know that I was raised in an incredibly supportive family, encouraged to believe that I could be anything I wanted to be, and “the next Jim Carrey” was my first target as a little kid. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t find the community, both inside and outside my home, where I could let my freak flag fly.

I prefer to think that there’s a mission underneath this, something about empathy. There have been times in my life when I have walked out of a movie or play and felt reborn. I prefer to think that there is something irreplaceable about stepping into a story, living vicariously through these characters, and then walking back into your reality, changed. Pretty sure I may have just accidentally quoted the Nicole Kidman AMC ads. I haven’t always known how to make a difference in the world, how to use my power to make things better, and as frivolous as some might see it, embodied storytelling has always seemed to me an indisputably positive thing to pursue. Like everyone else, I need to be reminded that every person contains the infinite, and I believe that seeing myself in the Other is essential to human flourishing. I prefer to think that these beliefs are part of my purpose.

I fear, as perhaps any artist does, that I just want to be loved without the risk of being known. To be loved for the excellence of what I’ve done instead of the messiness of who I am. Of course, I’ve come to recognize that my privacy is all that an audience is truly interested in, but I fear that uncomplicated adoration is still a part of what I crave. I fear that I just want to be seen in the best light the world can muster.
With every passing year, I hope that I get a bit more adept at dancing with this fear, embracing it, thanking it for all the ways it has served me, and letting it go its merry way.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
I’m most proud of the progress and success I’ve seen students at The Last Acting Studio experience. For a long time I saw acting as a magic trick, and I dedicated my life to figuring out how it works. I wanted to solve acting. I wanted to be able to analyze a script and understand character & story so well that I would always be great. I wanted to funnel all my effort and cleverness into this art and come out the other side with brilliance on-demand. Things flipped for me when I recognized that the elements of acting that can be explained and understood are not what give it life. This was a big bummer and a tremendous gift. As I was coming into this way of thinking, I got very confused about what it means to teach acting. I had all of this technical knowledge and (what I considered) insight, but I didn’t see how articulating ideas would actually lead to inspiration. I had to accept that my duty was something a bit deeper, and for better or worse it had much less to do with me and my ideas than I thought. I believe the information is a tiny element of what the teacher is there to deliver. Technique is secondary to authenticity, yet no one can teach you who you are and what sparks you. So once we’ve worked through the basics, I’m not there to give you anything but tools and permission to get out of your own way. I think my job as a teacher is to give each actor the confidence to stop watching themself. So often as actors we want to show our dazzling choices and nail these “beats;” there’s a suspicion that if we don’t monitor our performance it may not be *perfect*. Unfortunately, you can’t give a great performance and watch it at the same time. My job is to be some kind of recess supervisor—someone who’s paying attention to see where you might be preventing your own fun from flourishing.
I’m proudest of the way I’ve seen students learn to bring more and more of themselves to the work, to let themselves be seen. It’s really, really hard to let people see the parts of you that you haven’t learned how to love yet. And it’s really, really annoying how much an audience can tell when you’re lying. I’ve certainly never convinced anyone to love themselves, but some days it feels like the environment I help curate can help us all step a bit more into the light of our truth. Which is dope.

If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?
Ha…that oddly feels like kind of a high-stakes question, and my instinctive first response is ‘what is my friend’s situation?’ I have things on our to-do list, though. Could be nice to go for a morning hike together, in Griffith Park or—if we’re feeling adventurous—Millard Canyon Falls, and talk about things we’ve remembered and forgotten as the morning dew burns off. Maybe we go to the LACMA right when it opens and sit on that bench in front of the Rothko. Grab a burrito at La Abeja on Figueroa, the adobada burrito, and let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Or we could go to Howlin’ Rays and have the best chicken sandwich that there is. We’re not getting both, though, because heartburn is real. Either way, we should probably get, like, a green smoothie to feel like we’re not currently at war with our own bodies. Let’s head back to my neighborhood to walk by Canyon Coffee and feel deeply uncool. Go home and hang out with my dog Desi because he’s my special boy and we’ve already had a DAY. Tiger snooze. Wake up and feel like we’re supposed to be doing more exciting things, is this okay, ahh I knew I wasn’t gonna be a good host dude, I’m sorry. LA things, LA things…we could go somewhere people are performing, like Hotel Cafe or Republic of Pie, and realize how much freaking talent there is not only in the world but in this very city. Tell you what, then let’s go to the movies, probably one of the smaller Burbank AMCs because 1) we are A-List and 2) once you go recliner it’s tough to go back. On our way back to the car we can walk by Coldstone and congratulate ourselves for not getting anything. And on the drive home, let’s head up to Mulholland Drive and watch the fireworks over the valley. That’s right. You forgot it was Independence Day, didn’t you? That’s why we’re friends.

The Shoutout series is all about recognizing that our success and where we are in life is at least somewhat thanks to the efforts, support, mentorship, love and encouragement of others. So is there someone that you want to dedicate your shoutout to?
With due respect to my parents, my fiancée, and my dog, I’ve gotta recognize Desean Terry (founder of The Last Acting Studio, where I teach) for his role in my story. Desean was the first acting teacher I had in Los Angeles that I deeply admired. I was feeling aimless and useless in my mid-twenties, and I really needed someone to look up to, and I was fortunate enough to find Desean’s scene study class. Given that I live in the world, I’ve been familiar with the phrase “I am enough” for a long time, but working with Desean was the first time I was actually able to believe it, at least a little bit. I had a lot of well-meaning acting teachers growing up who told me that I was going to be a “leading man.” They would talk to me about how I had to carry myself and behave. They taught me that my eccentricities were distracting and that my eyebrows move too much when I talk. Gosh I wish that were an exaggeration. Desean wasn’t interested in any of that, he just wanted me to stop hiding. And, best of all, he would be totally nauseated if he heard me talking about what he means to me. He was the person I needed to talk to when I felt I was on the brink of quitting, he was the one who gave me the chance to start teaching, and he continues to be the voice in my head encouraging me to give more, play more, trust more.

Website: www.thelastactingstudio.com

Instagram: @patrickmcgowan13

Image Credits
Emmanuelle Yang