Jeff Hiller’s ‘Actress of a Certain Age’ – Laugh-out loud-recollections of a bumpy journey to queer stardom

If you watched the Emmy Awards last month, you might have remembered Jeff Hiller, the winner for Best Featured Actor in a Comedy, for “Somebody, Somewhere,”–playing middle-aged religious gay Joel, best friend to high school acquaintance Bridget Everett’s Sam who’s returned to their Kansas hometown– and his acceptance speech:

“For the past 25 years, I said, ‘World, I want to be an actor, and the world’s like, ‘Maybe computers.’”

This same hilarity and heartfelt honesty characterizes his new “memoir” “Actress of a Certain Age: My Twenty-Year Trail to Overnight Success.”
He uses the word memoir loosely, since the book is really a collection of autobiographical essays that sort of add up to a memoir, usually on a particular topic such as the influence of self-help books on his career, or working as a social worker for unhoused youth and HIV prevention:
“‘I’m going to change the world.’ Then when I got there, it was like, ‘Oh. I can’t change shit.”
As Hiller phrases it, “This is a book about what it is like to be an actor who isn’t famous, an actor who clawed, scraped, and fought their way to the lower-middle run of the ladder.”

The memoir, zeroing in on his struggles, triumphs, and humiliations to succeed after playing embarrassing bit parts and commercials, is hysterical, heartwarming, insightful, self-deprecating, and inspiring.

Valiant attempts
Hiller, who has read and loved hundreds of celebrity bios (“a really loose definition”), titles each chapter with the name of an actor’s memoir, and at the bottom of the page tells you how old each star was when they became famous, ingeniously letting the same title correspond to some facet of his life. For example, “Little Girl Lost,” by Drew Barrymore (whose big break happened at age 6 when she was cast in “E.T.”) tells how he was bullied in school as a closeted “way too gay little boy in 1980s Texas loner with no friends,” a valiant attempt to find humor in terrifying circumstances.

He’s always candid, whether he’s talking about his unhealthy relationship to food (and trying to lose weight) or his midlife crisis at age 40 when he seriously considered leaving his profession and buying a toupee, since he suffers from alopecia.

“It wasn’t so much that I thought I would be a famous star,” he writes. “I was just embarrassed that I couldn’t make a living acting. I really wanted to perform and I thought I would never do it, other than tiny roles where I played a mean waiter.”

The stories reflect the shame of working at horrible temp jobs so he can survive while waiting for auditions, some of which could be months, even a year, apart. He had to wear a rubber mask and silently play the villainous Mr. Hyde at a Jekyll and Hyde restaurant in order to obtain his Actors Equity card.

He learned his craft by doing years of improv at the Upright Citizen Brigade for no pay in the basement of a grocery store. Another job; standing naked in front of a bus of tourists for a miniscule role in the film “Ghost Town.”

One anecdote that’s both uproarious and appalling is when he fought a pack of wild dogs and witnessed a gun fight while waiting in a long line in the middle of the night in Central Park to get free tickets to attend a Shakespeare in the Park production starring Meryl Streep and Kevin Kline.

Butt of jokes
The highlight might be three asshole stories, not metaphorical but anatomical ones, such as playing a character in a commercial doing laser hair removal on a guy’s butthole using his head to block the viewer seeing the “guy’s most precious flower,” in a scene that took four and a half hours to shoot.

The kicker is when Hiller, after finding out the actor was only paid $50, offers the following advice, “If anyone asks you to expose your anus, demand more than fifty dollars. You are worth it.” The two other butt stories are just as scurrilous, including a joke-cracking proctologist (“I’m going to recommend you go to this other doctor. You’ll love him. He has really small fingers.”).

But there are also poignant vignettes on growing up Lutheran, that he seriously thought about becoming a minister, then participated in a study-abroad program by going to the sub-Saharan African nation of Namibia, and wrote a paper on the theology of the oppressed.

“The trip taught me more about myself than anything else had in my young life,” Hiller writes. “I learned I needed to fight archaic racist ideas every day. I learned kindness was the ultimate virtue and one I wanted to put first in my life. I learned I was much more capable than I had assumed.”

He also survived a severe case of food poisoning, vomiting for two days. Then there’s the lovely story of how he met his husband Neil, a visual artist, who supported him for years. The couple married in 2014. It’s Hiller’s willingness to be vulnerable yet find humor in often degrading circumstances that’s so affecting.

Hiller deserves to have his own comedy series, but he’s so grateful that “Somebody, Somewhere” came along when it did at age 45 (there’s a whole chapter on the series) when he least expected it. If you are feeling depressed about the state of this country or your current life, this book will act as a motivating picker-upper and balm for the soul.

It should be mandatory reading for anyone contemplating a career in the entertainment industry, as it’s candid about the indignities and ordeals one will face, especially if you’re gay working in non-inclusive environments with “unconventional looks.” Hiller didn’t let any of that stop him (“compare invites despair”) and one can only be thrilled about his success after being an underdog.

Turning 50 in December, he’s once again unemployed. “Somebody, Somewhere” has been cancelled after three seasons. But he tells himself what he did at age 40: “Don’t give up.” He’s going to keep going and so should we. It might be worth purchasing the audio version so you can hear the book read in Jeff’s inimitable voice. This effervescent gem of a memoir as well as the sweet, kind, droll Hiller himself will leave you crying and laughing at the same time.

‘Actress of a Certain Age: My Twenty-Year Trail to Overnight Success’ by Jeff Hiller. Simon & Schuster, $28.99 hardcover, $14.99 ebook, $24.99 audiobook.
https://www.simonandschuster.com/