Jon Stojan
The modern entertainment landscape is increasingly defined by a convergence of disciplines, where the most effective creatives are those who understand the machinery behind the magic. In an industry that once strictly separated technical crew from on-screen talent, a new generation of performers is emerging with a holistic grasp of production mechanics. This shift is particularly visible in independent film and theater, where the ability to navigate both the artistic and logistical demands of a shoot is becoming a premium asset.
For professionals transitioning between roles, this dual perspective offers a distinct competitive advantage. Isabel Pazos, a Guatemalan actress and producer, exemplifies this trend through her diverse background in animation, production, and performance. By leveraging experience as an assistant director (AD) alongside her acting training, Pazos has developed a method of character construction that resembles architecture as much as it does traditional dramaturgy.
Managing high-stakes production dynamics
The role of an assistant director is fundamentally one of mediation and problem-solving, often requiring the management of complex interpersonal dynamics under tight deadlines. This exposure to the raw, unpolished reality of a set provides a unique vantage point for observing human behavior in high-stress environments. For an actor, these real-world interactions serve as invaluable case studies in conflict resolution and status negotiation.
Pazos credits this operational experience with deepening her ability to analyze character relationships. “Getting to see everyone’s point of view in more detail and figuring out how my character would deal and move around when dealing with other characters and/or the environment they’re in,” she explains. This logistical oversight forces a performer to look beyond their own lines and consider the entire ecosystem of the scene.
The complexity of managing a cast and crew translates directly to the nuance required for portraying multifaceted roles. “People are very complex, so working with multiple people exposes you to that and makes you learn how to work with others that you normally wouldn’t interact with,” Pazos notes. This understanding was reinforced during her time on major sets, including her work as a background performer in Juror #2, where the scale of operations demands acute social awareness.
Integrating the director’s eye
A common challenge for actors is maintaining immersion while remaining aware of technical requirements, such as hitting marks or adjusting for lighting. Traditionally, this split focus is seen as a hurdle, but for those with production experience, it becomes a second nature that enhances efficiency. The internal monologue of a performer with AD experience evolves to include a layer of technical quality control that operates in the background.
Pazos describes this shift not as a distraction, but as an expansion of her performer’s toolkit. “Now that I’ve experienced being behind the scenes next to the director, my inner monologue has changed, and I am much more aware and conscious of all the other things that happen around me,” she says. This awareness allows for real-time self-correction that can save valuable production time.
Instead of waiting for direction, the actor can preemptively adjust based on the technical environment. “It’s not like it interferes with my actor’s instincts, but rather adds on to what I’ve already developed by myself,” Pazos clarifies. This capability is evident in her varied credits, such as the 2024 short film To Go Box, where the ability to self-regulate technical performance is crucial for the speed of independent production.
Spatial awareness in environments
The transition from the controlled architecture of a theater stage to the chaotic environment of a location shoot requires a radical recalibration of spatial awareness. On stage, blocking is precise and rehearsed within a static box; on location, the environment is often unpredictable and three-dimensional. Mastering this shift is essential for actors who must maintain continuity while navigating uneven terrain or confined spaces.
Pazos found that her theatrical background provided a foundation that had to be adapted for the rugged conditions of location filming. “It was a big change going from the stage to the middle of the woods, but it definitely helped me be more attentive of my surroundings and how I’d interact with them with my character in ‘Chupacabra’,” she states. This adaptability is key when the “stage” is a natural landscape filled with physical obstacles.
The heightened focus required to manage these environmental factors can actually deepen the performance. “I also felt more focused,” Pazos adds regarding her work on the horror film Chupacabras. “Being aware of all these aspects with my surroundings on set made me more engaged and immersed, if that makes any sense.”
Navigating the audience void
One of the most significant adjustments for actors moving between theater and film is the absence of an immediate audience feedback loop. In the theater, the energy of the room informs the pacing and intensity of a performance night after night. In film, the actor must generate that emotional arc in a vacuum, often out of sequence and without the validation of applause or laughter.
For Pazos, the discipline of assistant directing helped demystify the necessity of audience reaction. “It’s not something that I like to focus on too much,” she admits. The operational focus of an AD trains a professional to prioritize the execution of the work over the immediate reception of it.
This mindset protects the actor from the insecurity that can arise when a performance feels quiet or internal. “So, for me at least, whenever I perform on stage, I try not to pay too much attention to the audience, because it takes my focus away from my performance and can make me self-conscious about how well I’m doing,” Pazos explains. Her consistent work across multiple short film projects reflects this discipline of working diligently without an immediate audience.
Embracing creative risk
Fear of failure is a primary inhibitor for actors, often leading to safe, uninspired choices. However, witnessing the trial-and-error process of a rehearsal room from the perspective of the production team can desensitize a performer to the stigma of making mistakes. Seeing “micro-failures” as necessary steps in the process rather than personal indictments allows for greater artistic bravery.
Pazos emphasizes that her production experience has been instrumental in overcoming performance anxiety. “The biggest outcome of that has been losing embarrassment,” she reveals. This liberation allows for bolder choices that align with the director’s vision rather than the actor’s vanity.
The pragmatic approach of an AD—identifying a problem and moving on—translates into a resilient acting method. “If it doesn’t work, it does’, and we move on to another choice; if it does work, then it does, and we move on to the next scene,” she says. This resilience is vital in high-pressure environments, such as when working with an ensemble cast alongside actors like Brenden Davis.
Mapping the narrative arc
Actors often struggle to see the forest for the trees, focusing intensely on individual scenes without fully grasping the macro structure of the story. A production role, however, demands a comprehensive understanding of the project’s lifecycle from casting to closing. This structural view provides a blueprint for mapping a character’s emotional journey across a disjointed shooting schedule.
Pazos utilizes this bird’s-eye view to ensure consistency and logical progression in her character work. “I notice how everything that has to do with my character flows throughout the story,” she observes. This analytical approach helps anchor the performance within the larger narrative framework.
By understanding the cause-and-effect relationship between scenes, the actor can better calibrate their emotional state. “What makes things move and why?” Pazos asks. “What happens or has happened when my character isn’t on screen or on stage?” This method of inquiry allows for a cohesive performance, similar to the continuity required when overseeing a theatrical production.
Blending animation and live action
The discipline of animation requires a meticulous, frame-by-frame construction of performance that is solitary and highly controlled. In contrast, live theater is fluid, collaborative, and immediate. Combining these two distinct methodologies creates a unique “architectural” plan for character creation, where the precision of animation meets the spontaneity of live action.
Pazos draws parallels between the technical rigor of her digital art background and her physical blocking on stage. “It’s different. From sitting in front of a computer to sitting in an auditorium surrounded by the team, actors, lights, and tons of music is a big change in scenery to say the least,” she acknowledges. Yet, she finds the pipelines surprisingly compatible.
The attention to detail cultivated in her animation studies informs her physical acting choices. “Having to look really closely at every single detail when creating a show/animation has made me used to creating as many details about my character as possible,” Pazos notes. This synthesis of skills is a hallmark of her journey as a multidisciplinary artist.
Leadership in leading roles
The transition from a supporting operational role to a leading creative one requires a shift in how authority is wielded. The leadership required of an assistant director—keeping the production moving and supporting the vision—prepares an actor for the responsibility of anchoring a film. A lead actor sets the tone for the set, and understanding the weight of that responsibility is crucial for a smooth production.
Pazos views this responsibility through the lens of reliability and professional integrity. “Knowing that people depend on you to keep the ball rolling,” she asserts. This perspective shifts the focus from personal ego to collective success.
The fear of stalling the production drives a commitment to preparation and excellence. “I want to be someone people can rely on and know that they can depend on me to do a good job,” Pazos concludes. It is this fusion of artistic dedication and operational reliability that defines the modern “architect” of performance.
Pazos’s trajectory illustrates a compelling evolution in the entertainment industry. By integrating the structural discipline of an assistant director with the emotional intuition of an actor, she demonstrates that technical knowledge does not impede art, but its scaffolding. As productions become more complex and timelines tighter, the actors who can think like architects—building their performances with both blueprint and instinct—will continue to lead the field.