The Truth
Most headshot mistakes don’t happen during the shoot.
They happen before an actor ever books the session.
Not because actors don’t care. Because they’re often reacting instead of orienting.
This post is about slowing that moment down just enough to make smarter choices.
The “I Just Need New Headshots” Trap
“I just need new headshots.”
I hear this all the time. And I get it.
That sentence usually shows up after a stretch of silence. Fewer callbacks. A sense that something isn’t clicking the way it used to. Saying “I just need new shots” feels active. Like you’re doing something to move things forward.
But here’s the thing: that instinct is a feeling, not a plan.
New headshots won’t fix unclear casting, scattered submissions, or an outdated strategy. They won’t automatically solve the question of where you fit, or why certain rooms aren’t responding. And without clarity, even really strong photos can stall.
I’ve seen actors invest in beautiful new images only to end up right where they started. Same submissions. Same results. Same frustration. Not because the photos were bad, but because they weren’t responding to the right information.
Headshots work best when they’re answering a specific need.
They’re a response.
A response to what casting already knows, what they’re unsure about, and what needs to be clearer at a glance. When you understand that first, the shoot has direction. The choices make sense. And the images do real work instead of just existing on a profile.
That’s the shift I always want actors to make before booking anything. Slow the moment down. Get oriented. Then move forward with intention.
Take Inventory Before You Change Anything
Before you think about photographers, locations, wardrobe, or how many looks you want, the first step is much simpler.
Take inventory.
Not of your closet. Of your career.
This doesn’t need to be dramatic or overwhelming. It’s just an honest look at what’s actually happening right now.
Start with a few straightforward questions:
What have you been getting called in for recently?
What have you stopped getting called in for?
Where are you submitting and hearing nothing back?
Which of your current shots get clicked on, and which ones seem to get ignored?
This isn’t about judging your work or beating yourself up. It’s about noticing patterns.
Often, actors assume the problem is the photo itself when the issue is really clarity. Casting might not be confused about whether you’re talented. They might be unsure where to place you. Or they might be getting mixed signals from your materials.
Sometimes the inventory reveals that:
your shots no longer reflect how you look now
your strongest type isn’t clearly represented
your thumbnails don’t read quickly
This is also the moment to look at where you want to be working versus where you actually are. Not in a fantasy way, but realistically. What rooms do you want to make your job easier? What kinds of projects are you trying to move toward?
When you take inventory first, your headshots stop being a guess. They become a response.
And that’s when the process starts to make sense.
If you have an agent or manager, talk to them. Get a submission report. See how you’re being sent out and where. They may have insight into how they’d like to adjust your materials based on what they’re seeing. Gather information.
Look at What’s Actually Casting in Your Area
After you take inventory of your own materials, the next step is to zoom out.
Before deciding what your headshots should be, it helps to understand what’s actually being cast where you live and work.
This isn’t about predicting trends or chasing whatever feels hot that month. It’s about awareness.
Look at the kinds of projects regularly casting in your market. Film, television, theater, commercials, industrials. Union and non-union. Guest stars, co-stars, recurring roles, principals. Over time, patterns emerge.
You’re not asking, “Can I play this?” yet. You’re just observing.
If you’re in New York, that might mean a steady stream of grounded authority roles, blue-collar workers, professionals, parents, detectives, caretakers, neighbors. In a regional market or college town, the mix may skew younger or more commercial. In smaller markets, versatility might matter more than specificity.
The point isn’t to limit yourself. It’s to understand the ecosystem you’re submitting into.
Casting decisions don’t happen in a vacuum. Your headshot isn’t being judged against every actor everywhere. It’s being compared to a specific group of people being considered for a specific kind of role in a specific market.
When actors skip this step, they often end up with headshots that are either too generic or too aspirational. Images that don’t quite line up with what casting actually needs to see right now.
When you understand what’s being cast in your area, your headshots can meet the moment. They don’t have to explain everything. They just have to speak the same visual language as the rooms you’re trying to enter.
Type vs. Possibility
One of the biggest points of confusion I see around headshots is the difference between type and possibility.
Type is how casting understands you quickly.
Possibility is what you can actually do as an actor.
They’re related, but they’re not the same thing.
Your type isn’t a judgment on your talent, range, or ambition. It’s simply the most efficient way casting knows where to start with you. It’s the role they can picture you in first, without explanation.
Possibility comes later. It lives in the audition, the callback, and ultimately the work itself.
For actors who are still building momentum, headshots are about type.
That doesn’t mean you only get one shot or one look. It means each image should communicate a clear, believable starting place. When a headshot tries to represent possibility instead of type, it often becomes vague. And vagueness is hard to cast.
I hear actors say things like, “I don’t want to get boxed in,” or “I want to show my range.” That impulse makes sense. But range doesn’t need to show up all at once. In fact, it usually works better when it doesn’t.
A strong headshot says, “Here’s where I fit.”
An audition says, “Here’s what else I can do.”
This is how actors actually build careers. You get known for doing what you do well and easily. Casting starts to recognize you as a solid, reliable actor in a particular lane. And once that trust is established, they become far more willing to explore you in other kinds of roles.
That expansion doesn’t usually start with a photo. It starts with good work.
When actors lead with possibility in their photos, casting has to do more work. They have to imagine how you might fit instead of simply recognizing that you do. That extra step often costs you the click.
This is also why copying other actors’ headshots can backfire. What works for someone else is usually tied to their type and market position. When you borrow that without understanding why it works, the image can look good but not quite belong to you.
When your type is clear, possibility actually expands. Casting knows where to place you, which means you get in the room more often. And once you’re in the room, that’s where the real work begins.
What Problems Are Your Headshots Solving?
Once you understand your market, your type, and what’s actually happening with your submissions, there’s one more question to answer before you book a session:
What problem are your headshots solving?
Actors often say they want:
“something cinematic”
“something different”
“something new”
“an update”
Those aren’t problems. They’re descriptions of a feeling.
A real problem sounds more like:
casting isn’t clicking on my submissions
I’m getting called in, but only for one narrow type
my shots don’t look like me anymore
my materials feel scattered or contradictory
I’m changing markets, or the work I’m being seen for is changing
When you can name the problem clearly, your headshots can respond to it.
Not every problem requires four new looks. Sometimes one strategically clear image does more work than an entire set trying to cover every possibility.
As I mentioned earlier, the goal isn’t to impress anyone with how much range you have. It’s to make casting’s decision easier.
When your headshots are solving a specific problem, the session has focus. The choices make sense. And the images you walk away with aren’t just nice photos. They’re tools.
When to Wait and When to Shoot
One of the hardest things for actors to hear is that the right move isn’t always to shoot right now.
We’re trained to think momentum means action. Silence means something’s wrong. And new headshots feel like a productive response to anxiety.
Sometimes that’s true.
Sometimes it isn’t.
It’s probably time to shoot if:
your current headshots no longer look like you
your age range has shifted
casting is clicking but not calling
your materials feel unclear or contradictory
you’re changing markets or target work
But there are also times when waiting makes more sense.
If you’re just coming out of training, in the middle of a physical change, or still figuring out where you fit, rushing into a shoot can lock you into choices you’re not ready to make. If your current shots are working and you’re getting in rooms, changing them prematurely can disrupt momentum.
Sometimes the smartest move is to submit more, watch patterns, and let the information catch up before you respond to it.
That’s not hesitation.
That’s timing.
Watch What’s Filming Where You Live
I often tell actors to watch shows that actually film in their area.
Not everything everywhere. Your ecosystem.
If you’re in New York, watch New York shows. If you’re in Atlanta, Chicago, LA, Toronto, or a regional market, focus there. These are the worlds you’re most likely to be invited into.
Keep your phone handy.
When a character pops up that feels close to something you could play easily, take a quick photo of the screen. Not to copy the actor, but to notice how that character is being presented.
Pay attention to:
what they’re wearing
how dressed up or dressed down they are
how neutral or specific the look feels
how much story is suggested without being obvious
Do the same with commercials, especially local or regional ones. Commercials are incredibly clear about type, tone, and wardrobe.
After you collect a few references, go raid your own closet. Not to recreate a costume, but to find your version of what you’re seeing. What already fits your body, your coloring, your energy?
This grounds your choices in reality instead of imagination.
Instead of saying, “I want something cinematic,” you can say, “I keep getting called in for roles like this,” or “This world makes sense for me right now.”
That’s useful information. For you. For casting. And for your photographer.
And it all starts with paying attention.