Casting, run properly.
One tool for the person running the room: breakdown to booking without an email chain, a Dropbox link, or a spreadsheet. Free for talent and reps, always. Clients get a screening room, not a login.
Casting still runs on email, Dropbox, and a prayer.
Hundreds of submissions land for a single role. Tapes arrive as links in six formats. Scheduling happens by phone. The client decides in a reply-all thread, and the actors who didn't book find out never. Everyone in this industry deserves better than that — starting with the person running it.
Follow a role from breakdown to booked.
Write the breakdown once. It becomes the rules.
Age range, union status, local hire, language, conflicts — the specs you already write compile into deterministic eligibility. If a role requires SAG-eligible and Spanish-fluent, only people who've declared both can submit. No inference, no scoring, no model deciding who's "a fit." Boolean logic, on the record.
Rate and usage sit at the top, shown to talent before anyone spends an hour taping. Respect is a feature.
Self-tapes that respect the actor.
Record in the browser — no app, no fees, no uploading to a mystery link. A teleprompter carries the actual sides, the app slates you from your profile so every tape opens clean, and takes upload as you record. Lose signal in a hallway? It resumes. The final screen says "safe to close" and means it.
Eligibility shows before anyone tapes. Nobody spends an evening on a role they can't book.
Try the capture flow — camera and allFour hundred tapes. One hour. Hands on keys.
The triage room works like a photographer's cull: one keystroke is the verdict and the advance, the next tape is already buffered, the slate auto-skips, and undo is a tap of Z. Submissions arrive in random order — the industry's own fairness convention, kept.
Same actor via two reps? One card, both paths, one decision. Bulk passes past ten ask for a reason — that note is your compliance record, written for you.
Clients get a screening room, not a login.
Send one link. The brand sees a dark, beautiful reel of your selects — specs beside each tape, yes / maybe / no votes, a "choose up to five" cap that turns deliberation into a decision. You watch the tally land live, by viewer, with an approval trail that ends "who signed off on this?" forever.
Every view is watermarked to the viewer. Links expire, passcodes optional, revoke is one click.
Open the screening room demoSessions that confirm themselves.
Build a session from slot templates, offer times to your shortlist, and actors confirm from an email link — no login, ever. Declines auto-promote the waitlist. Confirmations land as real calendar invites that update instead of duplicating. The running order prints beautifully, one page per session.
When the role is cast, everyone knows.
Every submitter sees the role's status move — open, callbacks, cast — and the honest numbers: 412 submitted, 30 shortlisted. Nothing personal about anyone. No read receipts, no streaks, no "submit more" nudges. Just the thing this industry has never once offered: an ending.
See what talent seesPromises the software can't break.
These aren't policies. They're architecture — enforced where marketing can't reach them.
Free for talent. Forever.
No subscription, no media fees, no pay-to-be-seen. The sort function is structurally unable to read billing — payment can never affect who gets seen, or in what order.
AI organizes. Humans decide.
No model ranks, scores, or filters a person. Eligibility is boolean logic over what talent declared. The API physically rejects an automated "pass" — only a person can.
No public directory.
Talent profiles aren't browsable, searchable, or crawlable. You're visible to the roles you choose, and to no one else. Minors' contact routes through guardians, always.
Your work stays yours.
Export everything, free, anytime — before any retention purge, with weeks of notice. Your tapes are never "property of casting." Your data never trains a model.
Every decision on the record.
Each status change writes an immutable audit entry — who, when, why. Append-only by database law, retained three years. Compliance you don't have to remember to do.
The room stays yours.
Projects are private by default. Confidential projects show a code name to everyone outside your office. You control visibility, per role, down to a named list of agencies.
Texas funded a decade of production. Nobody funded the workflow.
Senate Bill 22 put $300 million per biennium through 2035 behind Texas production — commercials included. And the Texas-resident casting floor rises every two years, from 35% now to 50% by 2031. Proving your local cast isn't paperwork in Slayt; it's a column that already exists. Structured residency, declared by talent, counted at booking.
We're opening with a handful of Austin casting offices, running real projects end to end — then growing on their word, not our ads.
Built for the room — all of it.
Run the whole session.
Breakdown, gate, triage, sessions, selects, booking — one tool, keyboard-fast, with the audit trail written as you work.
Tape free. Know the odds. Get an ending.
No fees, ever. Eligibility before effort, a teleprompter in the browser, and the role's real status — open, callbacks, cast.
Your roster, your control.
Submit clients, manage tape requests, keep review-before-send. Roles can open to a named list of agencies — yours.
Decide from a screening room.
One link, no account. Watch, vote, cap your callbacks at five, and let casting see the tally land live.
Quiet on set. Austin first.
First projects run by invitation with Austin casting offices, now in production.