Headshot Poses, Eyes and the Honest Smile
Search “headshot poses” and you will get a hundred pictures of chin angles. Chin angles are not the problem. The camera can tell the difference between an actor thinking and an actor arranging their face, and so can everyone who looks at the photograph. This chapter is about the muscle that decides which one you are doing.
You are not posing. You are thinking.
The most useful sentence anyone has said about headshot posing came from a photographer with 26 years and 6,000 actors behind her, and it is a rebuke:
The casting side says the same thing in gentler language. Sharon Bialy: “you really want to capture someone in a moment, not someone who’s afraid of the camera.” Kelly Valentine Hendry wants eyes that are “alive.” The manager Terrie Snell asks, of every photo she looks at, “are the eyes alive?”
Nobody ever defines what that means. So let us define it, because it turns out to be three specific, mechanical things — and all three are trainable.
Alive eyes, part one: there has to be light in them
This is the physical component and it is not negotiable. Without a catchlight — the reflection of the light source on your cornea — the eye renders as a matte dark disc. There is no detail for a viewer to engage with, and “dead eyes” stops being a metaphor and becomes a description of the file.
No amount of acting fixes this. You can be having the most alive thought of your life and if the light is behind you, the photograph will not contain it. Fix the light first. Then act.
Alive eyes, part two: there has to be a thought behind them
This is the acting part, and — crucially — it is directable. It is not a personality trait you either have or don’t.
The best single line in the whole Backstage corpus on this is from the acting coach Mae Ross:
That instruction is free and it works, because it does the one thing that matters: it replaces the lens with a person. A lens is a piece of glass and nobody has ever had a thought about a piece of glass. A specific human being — your best friend, your ex, the person who owes you money — is something you can actually think toward.
The other techniques that work are the same idea in different clothes. Give yourself a secret and let the photographer catch the moment you think it, not the moment you perform it. Smile into the camera rather than at it — the difference between arranging your face and transmitting something toward someone. Play. Improvise. Get bored, get distracted, then come back.
Alive eyes, part three: what kills them is tension
Everyone knows this and almost nobody acts on it.
Vanie Poyey: “tension, self-consciousness, and doubt are visible in photographs in ways that are hard to retouch away.” Mae Ross, on the face: “any tension will show up there.” And Ross adds the detail people miss — relax the hands and arms even when they are out of frame, because if one part of your body is tense, the rest of you knows about it.
The photographers at YellowBelly put the kindest and most useful version of it in Casting Networks: “the less somebody feels like they’re performing, the more authentic the photographs become” — and, for anyone who has ever frozen in front of a lens: “one of the most common misconceptions is that if you feel nervous during a headshot session, it means you’re going to do a ‘bad’ job in your photos, and that really isn’t the case.”
The smile: the science is better than the folklore
The folk rule says commercial equals smile and theatrical equals no smile. It is much less true than everyone thinks. But underneath the folklore is 160 years of actual science, and it is genuinely useful to an actor.
In 1862, the French anatomist G.B. Duchenne noticed that the orbicularis oculi — the ring of muscle around the eye — fires during smiles of spontaneous enjoyment, and does not fire during posed ones. The genuine configuration, orbicularis oculi plus zygomaticus major, got named the Duchenne smile. In Paul Ekman’s Facial Action Coding System it is AU6 + AU12. The fake, social, photograph-me smile is AU12 alone. Mouth without eyes.
Here is the part that matters, and it is the reason “just smile” fails so reliably:
Two different wires. When the photographer says “smile,” you route the instruction down the voluntary wire, which reaches your mouth and stops. The eye muscle never gets the message, because it is on the other circuit — the one that answers to what you are actually feeling, not what you have been asked to do.
The visible tell: in a true enjoyment smile the cheeks lift, the lower eyelid rises, the skin under the eye bunches, crow’s feet appear at the outer corner, and the brow drops a fraction. A fake smile has identical lip-corner movement and none of the eye changes. You have seen this a thousand times and never had a name for it.
The pop-science claim is wrong, and that is the good news
You will be told the Duchenne smile is unfakeable. It is not, and this has been walked back — by Ekman’s own organisation, which notes that a deliberately broad smile will produce all these signs, making fabrication harder to spot. There is a modern research literature on the deliberate Duchenne smile, and there is even a study on what happens to it after Botox paralyses the crow’s-feet muscle — which is worth knowing if you are considering it.
So say it correctly: the Duchenne smile is hard to fake from the mouth alone. Never “impossible.” Because if it were impossible, everything below would be a waste of your time — and it isn’t.
The squinch is AU6
Peter Hurley is probably the most influential headshot photographer alive. His most famous technique is the squinch: a slight lift and tightening of the lower eyelid, with the upper lid coming down barely at all. He describes it as “a narrowing of the distance between the lower eyelid and the pupil.” It is not a squint. His argument is that wide-open, fully exposed eyes read as fear and uncertainty — deer in headlights — while a slightly raised lower lid reads as confidence.
Now put that next to the paragraph above.
Hurley’s “lift the lower eyelid” is AU6. It is a conscious, mechanical, voluntary contraction of orbicularis oculi — the exact muscle action that separates a genuine enjoyment smile from a fake one. Hurley found it empirically, as a photographer. Duchenne and Ekman found it experimentally, as scientists. They are describing the same muscle in two different languages, and as far as we can find, nobody in the actor-headshot world has ever connected the two.
Three things fall out of that, and they are all in your favour.
One: “alive eyes” now has a mechanical, directable technique attached to it, instead of being a vibe you are supposed to summon.
Two: it explains precisely why “just smile” fails. The instruction smile produces AU12. The instruction think about the thing that actually delights you, and let it land on the person behind the lens produces AU6 + AU12. Same actor, same camera, two different neural pathways. Direct the cause, not the effect.
Three, and this is the encouraging part: Peter Hurley has spent a decade teaching thousands of ordinary people to fire that muscle on command. Which proves the honest smile is trainable — and if a stockbroker can learn it in an afternoon, so can you. You are an actor. That is literally the job.
The reason so many actor headshots have dead, plastered, social smiles is not that the real one is unfakeable. It is that the actor was told to smile instead of being given something to smile about.
The geometry that is real
Not everything about posing is folklore. Three things hold up, and all three are mechanical.
Never square-on to the camera. Mae Ross: “think angles… you never want to be 100% facing the camera straight on.” A full-frontal torso is maximally wide, flat and static. It is passport-photo geometry — it is mugshot geometry — and your eye reads it as a document, not a person. A subtle turn narrows the torso, creates depth, and stops the frame reading as evidence.
The orange. This is the best-named technique in the business, from Mae Ross: “I always teach my acting students the ‘orange’ technique: throughout the shoot, even when you are asked to lower your chin, pretend there is a large orange underneath your chin. You always want a space between your chin and your neck. You may feel like a turtle for half of your shoot but once your photos come out, you won’t be able to tell that you were holding the pose.”
Forehead forward — not chin out. This is Hurley again, and it is counter-intuitive enough to be worth ten minutes in front of a mirror. Do not push your chin toward the camera. Push your forehead toward it and let the chin follow. This stretches the skin along the jawline and cleans up the soft area beneath it. Pushing the chin out does the opposite: it lifts and exposes the underside of the jaw, and makes exactly the problem you were trying to fix. Go and try it now. It costs nothing and you will feel ridiculous, which is how you know it is working.
Push your chin toward the mirror. Now reset, and push your forehead toward it instead, letting the chin trail. Watch your jawline. That is the entire technique, it takes four seconds, and no photographer has to be paid for it.
The geometry that is folklore
And now the things you will be told with total confidence by people who cannot tell you where they heard them.
Specific head-tilt angles. No source. Nobody credible specifies a number. And note that Marc Cartwright — the photographer who wrote the commercial/theatrical bible — actively mocks the cliché: “a plastered on smile and a head tilt.”
The precise three-quarter turn. Turn a bit. That is the whole instruction. Nobody credible has ever put a degree measurement on it, and anyone who does is guessing in a confident voice.
Camera height. We went looking for a sourced rule on where the lens should sit relative to your eyeline. There isn’t one. Ross implies eye level is the default and is what creates the phantom double chin — which hints that slightly above eye level is corrective — but no credible source states it, so we are not going to state it either. Notice how rare it is for a headshot guide to tell you it doesn’t know something.
Teeth. Everyone has an opinion. We could not find a single named casting director on record saying they want teeth or hate teeth. The teeth debate appears to be entirely photographer-side. Do not let anyone attribute it to casting.
One last thing, and it is not about your face
The strangest posing note in the whole body of research is from an agent, and it is not aesthetic at all.
One agent. Second-hand. Do not take it as an industry standard, and do not reshoot because of it. But look at what she is doing: she is optimising the geometry of a photograph for a grid of thumbnails rather than for a print on a desk. That is the correct frame — it is Tree Petts’ 48-to-96 arriving from a completely different direction — and almost nobody teaches it.
Your pose is not a pose. It is a thought, held long enough for a shutter, aimed at a person, and legible at the size of a postage stamp. Everything else is chin angles.
Want Will to Coach You Through It?
Reading is one thing. Working 1-on-1 with a working actor who booked Oppenheimer is another.