This is the former location of the blog of the Andrew Wood Acting Studio in Los Angeles.. The blog is now located at http://www.andrewwoodla.com/blog. This old location has been left in place as an archive.
The critics have not been kind, but the show is selling well. There are enough snippets of Law's performance in here to satisfy me that there's no need to high-tail it to the Big Apple to see this. I do like what he says about the role being "tattooed on his soul."
“I’m a written-page guy. The writer gives you everything you need.” William H Macy
If you could make a word cloud of the words that appear most often in acting classes everywhere, "choices" would be the word that probably comes up more often than any other. Believe it or not, I think that that is actually symptomatic of a deep-seated confusion about what acting is and how an actor's connection to a role develops.
Earl Gister, who was the Dean of the Acting Program at the Yale School of Drama for more than fifteen years, and who was my acting teacher at Yale, spoke of the actor "fulfilling" the role. What he meant by that is that in a screenplay or play, a character fulfills a function in the unfolding of the narrative. On the most superficial level, this means that they will perform certain actions that contribute to the unfolding of the plot: a character might steal money, seek someone's hand in marriage, or sell a house. But beyond the plot, characters, in their interactions with each other, exert pressures on each other that attempt to alter or restore their relationships, to affect the emotional climate in which they travel. It is in these encounters and confrontations that the episodes of the plot become inevitabilities, they become necessary. To the extent that the actor has discovered what pressures the writer needs her to exert in order to make the contribution to the various scenes in which she appears, she has succeeeded, she has "fulfilled" the role.
All of this is to say that first and foremost, work on a role is not about making "choices" but about tapping into the heart of the role as defined by the author, in fact finding the same impulse in the actor herself that prompted the writer to create the character in question in the first place. This impulse will reside "deep inside", it will be a primitive longing for connection and belonging. Rather than making choices, the actor opens himself to the writer's creation in the hopes of being being "chosen" by the role itself. In place of "choices", I would wish that "discoveries" were the word that appeared most often in the word cloud made from acting classes everywhere. This expresses correctly the actor's relationship to his or her role.
The obsession with "choices" flatters the actor, feeds his narcissism, suggests that he can exert his volition, his will, in the shaping of the role, and by doing so "originally", "provocatively", "unpredictably", he will distinguish himself from all the other busy choice-makers out there. When an actor has attuned himself to a text, intuition is active and impulses arise. He does not "choose" anything. Opportunities bubble up out of his frontal lobe (the part of the brain where creativity resides, IIRC), and he ACTS on them. He discovers them. The "choices" canard invites actors to think that what they do TO a role is what will determine whether they succeed, rather than their MANIFESTING or EMBODYING the role. There's the rub, to coin a phrase.
Actors do put their individual stamp on a role, no two ways about it. But it is not by making "choices", which implies a cerebral act of calculation, as if all the possible ways a moment could be played were laid out on a table like a brunch buffet, and it's simply a matter of deciding whether you like the Eggs Benedict better than the smoked salmon. The audience doesn't care about the actor's preference for smoked salmon or Eggs Benedict. It's immaterial to the people watching. What they care about is: has the actor brought her own humanity to bear on the fictional character she is embodying? If she has done that, no one will be thinking about her "choices." They'll be too busy watching the story unfold, and wondering what will happen next.
My friend Elisa Carlson, voice and speech teacher at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis, the lady who introduced me to Suzuki lo these many years ago (20!), posted a link this abstract for an article from the New Yorker about a man, Tim Monich, who coaches Hollywood stars on dialect. Apparently he coached Brad Pitt for Inglourious Basterds. The abstract quotes Sutherland (Donald?) as saying:“He’s not a mechanic, and he doesn’t impose. He comes in from underneath and supports your instincts; he doesn’t try to define them.” At the same time, he mentions Edith Skinner, who from what I know, is all about precise differentiations between sounds, so if he is that touchy-feely, it's on top of real depth of understanding.
Elisa mentions that she is now represented by the same agent as Monich, so maybe she'll be telling us stories about coaching celebrities in how to talk before long.
Unfortunately you have to be a New Yorker subscriber to read the whole article, but even the abstract is worth a look.