Looking Back . . .

It's possible I've grown wiser over the years. . . Perhaps. I may have gained new insights into this thing - this process that haunts me. One thing I've certainly realized is that it's impossible to explain that which is inexplicable. I may have said that recently somewhere, as a matter of fact. It's like trying to put words to intuition or deja vu. These are things you feel, but might have to write a dissertation about - then still come up on the short side when it comes to explaining a specific experience. Actors tell me all the time, "I can't find a word to describe this emotion." We've all been there.

As I think about my own students and compare their work to what I see from established actors, it's hard to avoid a conclusion that's been staring me in the face for a long time. I can and have helped hundreds of young actors improve their work. And now with the internet, I can do Skype video sessions with clients across the country - anywhere in the English speaking world, actually. And as I think aboout all of this, I remember two conversations with two different teachers that suddenly have more relevance than they've had in the past.

The first talk took place many years ago. The teacher, an old mentor of mine, looked at me and smiled sadly. "You know, kiddo, this is all crap." "What?" "Teaching actors. It's crap. All we can do is hold up a light and guide talented kids in a useful direction. If they haven't got the goods, there's no way you can stuff it in." "Like stuffed peppers?" I changed the subject.

The second talk came just a couple of years ago. A coach I used to hang out with was upset about the fact he was running into trouble on a movie shoot. He'd been hired on as a dialogue coach. "Every time I work with that damned kid, I pump him up and he gets the right thing goin' on. Soon as I leave him and he's ready to do the scene, he falls back 60%. He can't retain the work." I thought for a minute. "Maybe it's because you're playing the beats for him. If it's not coming through him - who knows, right?" "When did you get so fuckin' smart?!" That was obviously that. And I hadn't thought much about it since then. But I am now.

If the actor's own instincts can't plug into the emotive point the teacher's illustrating, then trying to parrot the teacher is a waste of everybody's time. So what do we do? Not everybody comes to the table with the same tools. I remember kids who came to me so tied up in knots, they were barely audible when they started to work. I remember others who struggled along for a couple of years before the penny dropped. And I remember the ones who seemed to get it right off the bat - only to fail somewhere along the way.

The ones who consistently amaze me, inspire me and give me hope - are the ones who have the imagination to move into the world of any given text and allow themselves to inhabit it. To become. Plato hated actors. Although I'm paraphrasing, he was appalled by those crazy people who could conjure up fear and actually feel the hair on the backs of their neck rise - or who, if on an imagined beach, could feel the sand between their toes. Lunatics. So this has been going on for a couple of millenia at least.

What I MUST remember. When I discover a student can be on that beach, feel the sand between his toes, it's my duty to hold up the light and guide him/her. When, or if, I finally discover a student who steadfastly stays outside the world of the text, my duty is to counsel him or her to find satisfaction elsewhere. I'm not done with this.

Dangerous Assumption . . .

One of my favourite students arrived yesterday . . . ready to attempt a difficult monologue I'd assigned her from a minor Kubrick film. As usual, we shmoozed, played with the dog and so on - until she ran out of delaying tactics, took a deep breath and said, " I guess I'm ready . . .kinda." And she started the work, then ran down in the middle - and finally ground to a halt well before the end.

"Yes?", I said, mysteriously. There's nothing like a bit of mystery to reinforce the Guru image. "It's not flowing. I'm forcing it." "MmmmHmmm", I murmured, softly. Nothing like a good murmur to ratchet up the mystery.

All you Smart Alecs out there know, of course, I was stalling - trying to get my radar activated. So we talked about it. And I discovered that her preparation, while thorough, had been lacking in certain critical areas.

"What are you remembering at the beginning of the monologue?", I asked her. She thought for a moment. "Well . . .I'm remembering how I felt when I saw him on the beach." "What beach? "Why is that important? It's a beach!" She was frustrated. I wasn't about to make her life any easier. "Cape Cod.", I said. "They summer at Cape Cod. And if you follow that through - to the hotel, the images she conjures up, the context - you start to get a fuller picture of the kind of woman she is. We're not talking Coney Island here."

Light at the end of the tunnel. This talented young actor had missed the imaginative cues that would lead her into the world of the text and subsequently into the psyche of the woman she was trying to become. Next week, we'll see whether or not there's a difference.

I think the lesson here is that before you drop into the trenches and examine the text line by line - you have to summon up an act of imagination that makes the text real, produces visions that you can hear and taste and smell - and lead you unerringly into the life of the character you're portraying. Finding beats and emotional shifts won't work if you are in your own every day reality. Never assume a beach is just a beach. Feel the sand and the sun through the reality of the script and see the ocean through the eyes of the character. Only then can you get down to work!

Getting Ready to Work . . .

So . . . a student arrives Friday Evening. I watch him go through his routine. Cell phone off. Everything out of his pockets. Keys, ipod, wallet (he'd already paid me), monologue (which he claimed he knew) unfolded and ready on the table should he need it.

I had an epiphany-of sorts. This young man had been going through the same routine every week for over two years - and it finally occurred to me that the problems I was trying to solve for him might be linked in some way to this opening ritual. I'm slow off the mark sometimes.

"George" (a nom de guerre), I said. "Why do you take all that stuff out of your pockets before we start?" He looked puzzled. "Uh . . . I dunno. I just do. I'm getting ready to work." Blam! Lightning strike. Burning right into my legendary, but obviously slow moving, perceptor bank.

George was getting ready to work. A mental, thought out process. "Hey, George", I said gruffly. "Nix on the getting ready to work shit! Put all that crap back in your pockets, leave - come back in, throw your backpack down - play your moment before and start. And, no. You can't have your money back!" George was stunned. "But . . ." "No buts - do it!"

And George did it! Reluctantly at first, but he did it. The methodology here was a little extreme, but it worked. Sort of. But it will get better. Here's what happened. By "getting ready to work", George was establishing that his sub-conscious told him going into actor mode was different than the reality of every-day George mode and that his actor process had to account for the differences, thereby thrusting him firmly and irrevocably into his head.

The reality of character and text has to flow freely without conscious preparation for playing the scripted material. Any self-awareness about getting ready to enter the world of the scene, immediately puts that old devil "thought" into the picture. And acting is not, I repeat NOT about thinking. You have to be able to slide into the world of the character and the scene without thinking about it - your preparation at home and in rehearsal takes care of all the thinking, thank you. Presentation is all about just doing it! More about this again and again and again in future posts.

Reflections on Earlier Reflections . . .

It's so simple, yet so complicated!! Trying to explain an emotional process is akin to an enforced, conscious definition of what happens to you internally when the hair on the back of your neck stands up - or you get goose bumps - or your heart starts to race.

In my last post, I talked about how learning to drive a car moves from conscious application to muscle memory - and I blithely remarked that the actor needs to do the same thing with lines and emotional connection. You learn the lines, make emotional associations and voila!!

What I forgot to mention was that the actor is dealing with turning fantasy into reality - while the perspective automobile wrangler is dealing with reality all the way. The actor, on the other hand, has to move through the "unreal" scenario of the script in a completely natural state. So before lines and emotions become part of muscle memory, you, dear actor, have to be comfortable in the skin of the character and the environment in which that character lives.

We are talking about the use of imagination to move you from your reality to the living, vibrant reality of the script. And it's the quality of imagination that distinguishes between run of the mill acting and great work. The gifted actor (think Meryl Streep) morphs. She becomes. If you watch "Doubt" and "Julie and Julia" back to back, you can't help but be astonished at the astonishing transformation Streep goes through and how different the two characters are.

But I'll betcha dollars to doughnuts - Ms Streep knows all about associating lines with emotion and letting them become part of her own, personal flesh and bone. I will likely keep relecting on these reflections in upcoming posts!

In The Moment - Reflections

In my meanderings - both as a teacher and director, perhaps a philosopher of sorts, as well - it occurs to me that, no matter what the endeavor, being "in the moment", is essential to success. I'm not referring to artists exclusively. "In the Moment" applies to athletes of every stripe, surgeons, teachers, speakers, lathe operators - actually almost any kind of task you can think of.

Successful people, no matter how much conscious thought they've given to a product or a process - in the heat of battle, as it were, are always IN THE MOMENT. How does it apply? Well, let's take a simple example.

Those of us who drive (cars) can remember how nerve wracking it was when we first slid behind the wheel of the old beater we probably learned on. In my day it was a clutch and brake pedal on the floor and a 3 speed and reverse shift handle on the steering wheel assembly. Does that date me? Hmmm. Anyway those first agonizing lessons were filled with self-awareness, stage fright and a heightened consciousness of everything I was doing, just waiting for the inevitable wreck. Or so I thought. Well . . . the wreck never happened and as I persisted the mechanics of driving became 2nd nature. The entire process shifted from self-consciousness to muscle memory - and after a fairly brief time, it seemed the car was going by itself.

Now relate that, dear actor, to picking up a script for the first time, learning the lines, making the emotional associations - all of which in the early days of rehearsal - require a lot of conscious thought as part of the process. But as you get closer to "the day", if you trust yourself enough to allow all thought to become part of your muscle memory, you'll be IN THE MOMENT when the director calls "Action" or the Stage Manager anounces - "Places."

Wheat and Chaff

Well . . .it's been a year - almost to the day - that I've been seen on these pages. Time to get going, encore une fois.

Yesterday one of my promising young students showed up with news. He's auditioning for Steven Spielberg on Monday! So we worked through the sides and he demonstrated clearly that in the two and a half months since I'd seen him, nasty habits had sneaked back into his repertoire. Begone said I! Not to the kid . . .to the habits.

There's this ruinous tendency among young Canadian film actors (maybe it's worldwide!) that being sized correctly for camera means flattening the performance to the point of a flat monotone. Somnolent. Deadly boring. No way to greet Mr. Spielberg!

Bad acting teachers and schools that employ them haven't found a way to inform movie hopefuls that their performance must be internally vibrant, with shifts at every punctuation mark - and external evidence that every line is produced via inner process. This is not rocket science!

It goes without saying that on a film set you don't tear down the scenery and have to be ever mindful the camera and mike are nearby, picking up everything you do with unrelenting clarity.But the wheat is the vitality of the performance! The chaff is all the nonsense you hear about reducing your work to an invitation to a sleepover.More about this soon.

Riding Streetcar(s) can be Tricky . . .

Two young women in my class are doing the 1st Blanche/Stella scene in "Streetcar." No big deal, right? Wrong. On the surface, Stella seems to be placid and quiet while Blanche natters on, nervous and uncomfortable. But both women have to locate the tense underscore that Williams provides in order for the scene to succeed. On first reading this essential fact eluded these two talented actors.

Remember that in any scene, the actors have to be aware of their objective and their obstacles. Blanche's are clearer than Stella's. But it's absolutely essential that Stella find her keys so that the tension and conflict between the sisters works.

And you have to look past the dialogue to find them. That's the problem. Many young or inexperienced actors flounder when they try to find answers exclusively in the dialogue while ignoring the subtext.

Williams gives us hints IN the dialogue, which demand that we look closely at subtext. Stella is defensive about: her living conditions, her marriage to Stanley (she hasn't even told him that Blanche is coming to visit - fearful of how he's going to respond), and her pregnancy - which she doesn't know how to share with Blanche. Further, she has to deal with Blanche's nervous state and the obvious fact that there's something wrong. If the actor digs through this rich subtext, all she needs to know reveals itself.

The problem for the actor lies in knowing where to look. Once you remind yourself that the solution to an acting issue often lies BENEATH the surface of the text, a light appears at the end of the tunnel. These 2 young women are now confidently on their way!