It’s April, a Tuesday evening on the Upper West Side, and as the sun dips behind the borough, a collection of strangers vaguely familiar to one another shuffle into a fifth-story apartment on West 70th Street. Once through the front door, they hang their coats, greet the host, and make their way to warm pizza boxes and open wine bottles laid out in the kitchen. They exchange pleasantries as more guests arrive, each one adjusting their eyes to the open living room before them. Punctuated by antique rugs, framed artwork, and bookshelves. A collection of chairs – gathered from different regions of the apartment – resemble three rows in the center of the room facing a wooden dining room table. Sets of highlighters, pens, stacks of paper, and glasses of wine sit like table settings and silverware before five chairs on one side of the table.
The hum of mingling buzzes through the space as, one by one, people begin to fill in the rows of chairs. Plates of food balance on crossed knees, drinks land on the floor by feet, and conversations slowly fade as five individuals in their mid-twenties settle themselves at the dining room table, organize their papers and grin in anticipation at their audience.
Everyone has gathered this evening to hear the reading of a recently completed play adaptation of Leo Marks’s memoir set in World War II, in the apartment of the playwright, herself. The audience holds writers, actors and friends, all connected in some manner to the theater world. The panel of readers are all originally from the United Kingdom, now living in New York and pursuing acting careers. Everyone in the apartment has a role to play for the evening, but the deeper reasoning for their attendance lies in something – someone – other than a mere love for performing arts.
As the last conversations fade, that someone rises from her seat behind the table, tosses her blonde hair over her shoulders and laughs as she clears her throat. With an onstage spirit and enthusiastic confidence, she addresses the room.
“Hi, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Millie Gibbons. Thank you so much for being here tonight.”
Gibbons introduces the event and its inspiration along with the playwright and her fellow readers. She sits back down and passes it off to the writer, who speaks briefly about her work. Papers shuffle, highlighters pop open, bodies readjust in seats, smiles pass between readers, and away they go.
After two acts separated by a small intermission, claps erupt through the living room. Wine glasses are refilled as the playwright listens to feedback from both her actors and audience. The event winds down, as people linger around the kitchen counters conversing like friends with people they arrived with as strangers, before slowly heading back into the New York night.
Listening to a script out loud in a casual environment allows a writer to feel out their work, make changes, and understand next steps. While the evening existed for the playwright’s progression, it held more of a holistic meaning for Gibbons. Not only had she proposed the idea to the playwright, but she’d also collected all the actors who read alongside her, brought in most of the audience members, and helped organize the entire night. She read alongside ex-pat friends she’d made over the years, who all share the same experience of coming to a new place to chase a passion. Sharing a one scene with other English actors is a rare occasion for Gibbons, let alone reading through an entire play with an all-English cast.
“It was an experience I haven't had since I've been in New York, just knowing that we all came here for the same reason, and we're all in this room sharing this experience far away from home. There was a moment where I felt like I could breathe familiarity for a minute.”
One of Gibbons’s readers was a friend from an acting community she’s joined in Hell’s Kitchen over the past year, but the rest were friends she made and has kept from the first food and beverage job she got in New York City three years ago. The handful of people in that Upper West Side apartment reflected Gibbons’s life since leaving her home in Suffolk, England to pursue her acting dreams.
“It felt like home, weirdly. The whole experience was incredible.”
At 19-years-old, Gibbons moved to America to study acting at The American Academy of Dramatic Arts in the heart of New York City, placing an ocean between herself and everyone she knew. While her new environment had its daunting elements, she faced the challenges head on, throwing herself into courses and connecting with as many professors and classmates as possible.
After graduating from a two-year conservatory and a year-long company program, Gibbons remained in Manhattan and got right to chasing auditions. She’d come to love the way she felt surrounded by sights and sounds that still felt new to her.
“I like being in the chaos and the noise. I love hearing the sirens or people on the streets. I love that energy. I feed off that energy.”
One afternoon the summer after school had finished, Gibbons walked into Tea & Sympathy in the West Village for a cup of tea. The quaint, English restaurant serves dishes like bangers & mash, sunday roasts, and shepherd's pies as well as classic British groceries and sweets in their shop. Floral table clothes, proper tea sets and decorations gives the space a taste of home to ex-pats in the city and a taste of British charm to everyone else. With two years of New York in her wake, Gibbons felt more comfortable putting herself out there. She asked the manager if they had any openings and was soon-after hired as a hostess. She joined a team of other young transplants and worked there on and off for a year.
“They paid me peanuts, but I benefitted from it because I felt like I had a family. I still go there all the time. They’ll give me Crunchies, which is a chocolate bar, because I miss my beans on toast and all that shebang. Or they’ll give me a jar of Marmite on the house.”
Getting to work with ex-pats allowed Gibbons a small world of comfort, but outside those shifts, she felt like being a foreigner threatened her ability to succeed. The New York acting world notoriously chews up ambitious dreamers and spits them out. Gibbons’s work ethic and spirit swam upstream in the face of challenging auditions and the feeling that her being from England gave her a disadvantage.
“Everything felt different, even people saw me as different. I used to hate being the one with the accent, feeling like an outsider.”
Surrounded by other actors who never gave a second thought to their voice or their ability to go for any casting call, Gibbons adopted practices she deemed necessary for advancing. She relentlessly trained her American accent for audition tapes to hide her English roots and sought out specific roles for streaming services that accepted her visa. She simultaneously needed to earn enough money to stay in New York, learn how to feel more at home, and work every day at her craft for opportunities.
Since leaving home, the actress’s checklist has seldom held less daunting tasks. She’s come to greet obstacles with a gratitude to have them in the first place, knowing that overcoming and embracing them brings her closer to her goals.
“Even still, the doors aren't all the way open. I have to make it work in order to stay here. It’s all an incentive. I don't have time to think about how hard everything is. I just have to keep going.”
About a year out of school and into auditioning, Gibbons was walking around the West Village with a friend when she noticed a man leaning on a gate in front of a white townhouse, swirling a martini in his hand. Behind him, a set of stairs led down to a darkened entryway with music pouring out and up onto the sidewalk. The man greeted Gibbons and her friend, saying he was the owner of a new cocktail and small bites bar that just opened called Do Not Disturb and invited them inside for a drink.
What, from the outside, was the basement of an unassuming townhouse, had been transformed into a speakeasy, with low ceilings and stretching mirrors leading you further inside. In the first room, the dark wooden bar counter and reddened wood ceiling bounce warm light from sconces between one another, while the velvet booths at one end exist in their own sultry, darkened mood. A brick fireplace illuminates bar shelves with bottles of jalapeño infused tequila and honeysuckle vodka sitting on top. The room next door features red velvet booths and chairs barely visible by sparse lighting and lit candles on each table. The final room of the bar, up a set of stairs, resembles a nearly complete departure from the two below. Different shades of green velvet cover banquets stretching down the room to a green tile fireplace. After moving through the speakeasy’s first two areas, bright lights, potted vines, skylights, and floor-to-ceiling mirrors evoke the feeling of stepping into a greenhouse.
The bar could not have been more opposite in character than Tea & Sympathy, and yet, when asked if she’d be interested in working there, Gibbons agreed to a training shift. She had never bartended, let alone wait on a table, but wasn’t worried about giving the gig a shot.
“I had thought, “All I'm going to do is carry a tray, walk in and out of the kitchen, say ‘Hello, what can I get you?’ Then go home, go to bed, whatever.” I was so wrong.”
Do Not Disturb and Gibbons had different definitions of what a “training” shift would entail. Within the first few hours of working, the 22-year-old ex-pat was not only taking orders and talking to guests, but was also trying to familiarize herself with American alcohol and bar terms she’d never heard before in her life.
“As soon as I got there, they threw me behind the bar. I didn't even know how to count an ounce. Someone would come up and say, ‘Vodka soda please!’ And I just wanted to say, ‘Give me a second.’”
Gibbons still remembers the first table she served. A coworker she now calls a close friend had told her to just go up, introduce herself, and take their order . . . Easy as that.
“I was shitting a brick, literally laying an egg, holding a notepad, and I go, ‘Hey guys, my name is Millie Gibbons. I'm going to be your waitress tonight. What can I get you?’ And then immediately I thought, ‘Oh my god, why did I say my first and second name? What if they search me up? They know my whole name.’”
The table of girls laughed with Gibbons at her formal self-introduction. They instantly loved her: they’re all friends today. If she’s learned anything over the past three years of working at Do Not Disturb, it’s to let go of a foreign standard and lean in to who she is and what she knows. She’s now even got a drink named after her: The Millie Rock.
“I’ve gotten better at all of it, you’ll be pleased to know. The less you give a shit about being good at being a human, the better experience you have and the better service you offer.”
Gibbons sees her service job as instrumental in embracing her differences instead of viewing them as hindrances. Her accent sparks questions, her vocabulary shakes up expected greetings, and her pride of her hometown across the pond reminds others why New York is such a special city. People love what makes her unique. She just had to love it herself first.
“I now love going up to an awkward first date table and cracking a few English jokes to break the ice. Sometimes they go down like a lead balloon and you laugh about it afterwards, because it doesn’t matter.”
As well as growing her everyday confidence, Do Not Disturb has also aided her acting pursuits. Every night she’s meeting strangers and creating a natural and easy connection with them. During busy shifts, Gibbons doesn’t have time to get nervous over approaching a table of eight people or shy away from explaining the ingredients of a cocktail. During slower hours, she’s got the time to read scripts.
“Now with meeting agents or managers, I’m more comfortable being myself, and I’ve become better at connecting with strangers. Going into a room with a director and a panel of people you’ve never met to audition for a role is very similar to going up to a table of strangers and asking for a drink order, when you think about it.”
Gibbons has come to see every separate area of her life in New York as interconnected. Her shifts at Do Not Disturb impact her comfortability around others, which impacts her auditioning processes, which impact the work she does and the people she meets. Her vibrant energy and determination to make the most of wherever she is has allowed her to shape her entire existence here into a self-sustaining microcosm. She dedicates both a bright and serious attention to everything she does, knowing the only way forward is to accept herself and the reality around her. Even when problems arise or her patience is tested, she returns to her maturing perspective on life and grounds herself.
“Everything in New York is so quick. It’s brilliant, but when something goes wrong, people have this expectation that it must be fixed now. Well, no, it doesn’t. We can afford to sit back and say, ‘Okay, yeah, that's not happening right now, but it's going to happen. And I'm not going to worry about it, I'm not going to get wrinkles. We will all survive.’”
Gibbons works at Do Not Disturb alongside a staff of other artists working towards their passions and under a management that supports the dreams of their employees. She remembers getting news that she landed a job in Los Angeles just two weeks before she needed to be on set. Unable to follow the regular protocol at Do Not Disturb of asking for days off much farther in advance, she approached one of her managers with her predicament.
“He just looks at me and goes ‘That’s fucking brilliant. Congratulations. Let me know when you come back.’”
Working for bosses who encourage the pursuits of their staff can impact an artist’s ability to attend auditions, spend crunch time finishing projects, and push their desired career forward. Gibbons sees this kind of support as essential to her life, as she lets very little precede her acting in terms of priorities. When an audition comes up or an important task requires attention, she drops nearly everything and focuses. Social events, personal time, any extracurriculars: they fall by the wayside in the face of a script or self-tape deadline.
“My acting comes first. That's what I came here for, first and foremost. And nothing can come between that. This sounds so cringey, but it's so true: I came here with a fucking dream.”
As Gibbons accumulates more experiences in New York and at Do Not Disturb, she continues to grow into an ever-present, all-accepting version of herself. She’s come to understand the potential for any moment to inspire the next and so has worked to make her life not only a pleasant existence but a purpose-driven plan. She remains eager to learn, both in everyday moments and environments targeted towards further advancing her craft. She recently took a Meisner technique workshop and was reintroduced to concepts she was taught years ago in acting school, such as intuitive listening and a selfless approach to a scene.
“As actors, we have this bug: we naturally live in the egotistical. That doesn't have to be a bad thing, but this technique forces you to do the opposite, and as a result, my work has become a lot more truthful, grounded and present. Connecting with someone on a level where you're trying to understand them, then speak that out loud is so cool. You take that into real life, and you become more aware that you’re more compassionate for the people around you.”
a feature film by JSL Studios. 2025
Eyes wide and ears pricked, the actress moves through her days minding both her surroundings and how her English self fits everywhere. Six years ago, Gibbons would have shuddered at the idea of embracing her roots. Now, it’s a tool for developing as an actress, a resident of this city, a waitress and bartender, and – most importantly – a confident individual.
“I've learned to love the fact that I am different. I use it to my advantage. It’s a great talking point, a great way of connecting with people. I'm proud of where I've come from, and I wouldn’t change it for anything. It made me who I am.”
Gibbons remains close with her family back in England. Her older sister, mother and father all support her from far away. Telling their community that “their Millie” is in New York City chasing her dream represents a point of pride for everyone in the Gibbons family. Even when they can’t understand exactly what Gibbons does in her acting courses, they cheer her on and believe only in her success.
“I would say things like, ‘Well, Dad, today in class I embodied the color red. I was red today.’ I just want to make them proud, at the end of the day. I envision myself in the future being at a premiere with them, showing them my work and us sharing that moment. I want it to happen so badly.”
come from, and I wouldn't
change it for anything.
A large part of an acting career’s beginning lies in the waiting for auditions or opportunities to roll in and receiving the news that another actress got the part. Gibbons has experienced dips and peaks of submission chances, as well as spells of auditions where nothing stuck. Despite such moments, she understands that success comes from playing the long game and playing it well. Instead of spending time wallowing in missed chances or silences, Gibbons has learned that the strongest weapon in her arsenal is consistency and perseverance.
“When things don't go your way, it's hard not to go down that rabbit hole of thinking, ‘What am I doing wrong? Why am I not being noticed? How can I be different? How can I improve?’ But I know that all I can do is work on myself because I’m learning, I haven't got it all figured out, and I'm going to continue to grow and get better at what I want to do. If I can submit something knowing that I did everything I could have done, then I have no doubts that if I don't get it, it’s okay. I'll get the next one.”
Gibbons lives most days filling her plate to the brim. She chases every audition down with an excited spirit, and has already experienced the results of embodying such an approach.
She’s shot a film in a small Northern California town with a population of 500 . . .
“There was one restaurant there, called the Buck Horn. God knows what the meat was because I didn’t see a fucking cow for miles. But there were a bunch of cats there. It was lovely.”
been a part of a Western where she performed her own equestrian stunts . . .
“Honestly, I was shitting a brick. But I had the time of my life. I’m meant to be kind of evil in the film, but in all the pictures of me galloping I have a massive smile on my face.”
and acted for director Carly Hopkins, a now close friend with whom Gibbons will be co-producing an upcoming film . . .
“Initially our interaction was all work related, and now it's the opposite. She'll come and stay with me in New York, and we'll lie in bed and watch Scooby Doo with Aquaphor all over our faces and bonnets on our heads.”
Regardless of her past accomplishments, however, Gibbons stays focused on the present moment and what she can squeeze out of it. She exudes an excitement for what bar shifts, classes, auditions and time with actor-friends can bring to her life, and has fully come around to understanding what she, specifically, has to offer.
“All you can do is be yourself, your authentic self. Give everything you've got and then let it go, because sometimes these things come around. And when you do book something, it's obviously the best feeling.”
Back to that Tuesday evening in the Upper East Side, Gibbons finds herself sitting next to four English friends she made from that first hosting job at Tea & Sympathy she held nearly four years ago, reading a play together that centers itself around the life of an extraordinary Englishman. Not only is she an element of the evening, but she birthed the very idea of the night itself: an event aimed to help a playwright, yes, but more so an event steeped like a strong tea in Gibbons’s identity as British. If she hadn’t come to embrace her true self who knows if she’d be standing before this audience alongside these actors. As she collects experiences and lessons in New York City and beyond, she knows to keep hold of the people and places that she’ll call home, wherever she goes. Gibbons is currently in the throes of an audition spike, working on scripts and tapes when she’s not shaking drinks in Do Not Disturb’s basement. She continues to strive for routine and growth, while embracing her chaotic way of life. She feels grateful for the community she’s built and for the ability to chase her dreams.
“I feel so lucky that I get to wake up every day loving my job and the spontaneous life I've chosen for myself. It's not all glitz and glamor . . . It takes literal blood, sweat and tears to get to a brilliant set, and it's not all happy days. But you’ve just got to keep going, and maybe make a cup of tea, because a cup of tea fixes everything.” ∎
