"I have a hard time retaining the lines. Even on set I make mistakes but I'm okay with that"
About this Quote
Ashley Scott admits to struggling with memorizing lines and to making mistakes on set, and the striking part is her calm acceptance. That stance cuts against the perfectionist myth of acting, where performers are expected to be flawless machines. Instead, she frames the craft as a living process. Memorization matters, but presence, listening, and responsiveness matter more. By being okay with the inevitable slips, she gives herself room to stay present, to recover, and to find truth in a moment that can be tighter and more honest than a perfectly recited sentence.
On a professional set, conditions shift constantly. Pages are rewritten, blocking changes, and the rhythm of a scene evolves across takes. An actor who admits vulnerability is not confessing incompetence so much as describing the reality of collaborative work. Directors, scene partners, and editors often mine small accidents for authenticity; a stumble can reveal a character’s uncertainty or spark a more organic exchange. Anxiety around error tends to stiffen performance, while acceptance keeps the body loose and the attention outward. That is not laziness, it is a craft choice: prioritize connection and discovery over brittle precision.
Scott’s career in series like Birds of Prey and Jericho demanded more than recitation. Action beats, emotional pivots, and ensemble timing create cognitive load that can crowd memory. Owning the difficulty demystifies the job and gives permission for process. Many actors use repetition, association, and blocking to lock lines, but the deeper anchoring comes from understanding intention. When intention is clear, the words have something to hold onto.
There is also a wider human note here. Perfection is a mirage; growth comes through error inspected without shame. By normalizing mistakes, Scott models a resilient, creative mindset. The point is not to be careless, but to be courageous enough to keep playing, trusting that the work improves when fear loosens its grip.
On a professional set, conditions shift constantly. Pages are rewritten, blocking changes, and the rhythm of a scene evolves across takes. An actor who admits vulnerability is not confessing incompetence so much as describing the reality of collaborative work. Directors, scene partners, and editors often mine small accidents for authenticity; a stumble can reveal a character’s uncertainty or spark a more organic exchange. Anxiety around error tends to stiffen performance, while acceptance keeps the body loose and the attention outward. That is not laziness, it is a craft choice: prioritize connection and discovery over brittle precision.
Scott’s career in series like Birds of Prey and Jericho demanded more than recitation. Action beats, emotional pivots, and ensemble timing create cognitive load that can crowd memory. Owning the difficulty demystifies the job and gives permission for process. Many actors use repetition, association, and blocking to lock lines, but the deeper anchoring comes from understanding intention. When intention is clear, the words have something to hold onto.
There is also a wider human note here. Perfection is a mirage; growth comes through error inspected without shame. By normalizing mistakes, Scott models a resilient, creative mindset. The point is not to be careless, but to be courageous enough to keep playing, trusting that the work improves when fear loosens its grip.
Quote Details
| Topic | Learning from Mistakes |
|---|
More Quotes by Ashley
Add to List
