Moving from the actors’ process to the director’s for a moment: when a scene is not working well, the first thing to look at from the director’s viewpoint is whether each character’s intention is being pursued with full commitment. Four out of five times, you will make a scene better simply by addressing that question and pushing your actors to achieve their character’s intention.
In exploring the third question—“Why do I want what I want?”—the character gets passion. This is where the actor takes the character from being the archetype we mentioned in Chapter 2 (which is a helpful tool to label and find the essence of a character for a director) and develops that character into the living, breathing person with specific subtleties and aspects of the personality of the actor who creates the character. Or if the character is distinctly different from the actor, the specific subtleties come from the imagination of the actor who creates the character. Either way, when actors find in themselves why the character needs what they need and does what they do, he explores the raw motivation of the character. And with every actor, those motivations will be unique. As Meryl Streep said, “All an actor has, I think, is their heart, really … that’s the place you go for your inspiration.1”
An actor’s preparation should always include the answer to the question: “What do I need to do in this scene that will cause the other character to do something in return?” When the actor plays his intention, he becomes active and doesn’t play a mood. The actor’s work is specific. The character gets a spine.
The last two questions are simple but crucial information for the actor to ask. The answers to “When is it?” and “Where am I?” affect an actor’s sense of urgency and grounds the actor in a sense of place. There is a brilliant scene between a couple in love played by Keira Knightley and James McAvoy in Christopher Hampton’s faithful screen adaptation of Ian McEwan’s novel Atonement. It takes place in a crowded restaurant, where the two have tea. This is the first time meeting since McAvoy’s character has served jail time due to a lie told by the Knightley character’s sister. McAvoy has also faced brutal combat conditions in the interim. Knightley has been estranged from her family, living on her own, and working at a hospital during the war. The “when” of the scene is informed by these timely past events. Even more pressing is the limited amount of time for this reunion because Knightley’s character needs to return to the hospital in half an hour. The “where” of this scene is influenced by the lack of privacy available with so many nearby restaurant patrons, especially as both characters have such intimate things they want to say.
When a scene is not working well, the first thing to look at from the director’s viewpoint is whether each character’s intention is being pursued with full commitment.
Exploring these five questions will hopefully be the thorough kind of work an actor will do before he ever auditions for you or even meets you on a set. Hopefully, the actor—like you—has also analyzed what obstacles the characters encounter to getting what they want in each scene. But that might not be the case.
There are so many different ways in which an actor prepares (another three words that are the title of a Stanislavski volume: An Actor Prepares). Some actors have a distinct way of working based on studying their craft; others purposely choose not to study formally. Meryl Streep went through an intense graduate program at Yale; Johnny Depp has been quoted saying, “If you catch me saying ‘I am a serious actor,’ I beg you to slap me.” The director must be prepared for either of these scenarios—and everything in between.
If you haven’t already, take an acting class. Once you’ve walked a mile in an actor’s shoes, you’ll have a firsthand understanding of what they do and how hard it is to do it.
The most important thing to have is respect for acting. (Those last three words are the title of yet another book: Respect for Acting by Uta Hagen.) You need empathy for what actors do and how they put themselves on the line. If you haven’t already, take an acting class. Once you’ve walked a mile in an actor’s shoes, you’ll have a firsthand understanding of what they do and how hard it is to do it because they figuratively get naked by putting their heart out there for everyone to see. You will understand why actors need a safe place to work. Figure 10-1 shows Bethany on the set of Brothers & Sisters giving a direction to Dave Annable, who plays Justin Walker. Notice the connection between actor and director. We can’t stress how important it is for an actor to feel safe in his working environment, and we will talk about it more later in this chapter.
SHAPING A PERFORMANCE ON SET
The practical part of directing actors happens on set during rehearsal. This time is when you shape an actor’s performance. It should be a closed rehearsal, that is, no crew members other than the script supervisor, the director of photography, and your 1st AD invited. Your actors will have done their homework, hopefully, and they will know their 5 Ws and obstacles. You don’t need to discuss the scene unless they want to. Rather, begin the rehearsal by letting the actors act. You watch.
You must make sure that you and the actors are telling the same story. Here is the crucial difference between the director and the actors: the actors have asked themselves these questions about just the scene(s) they are about to do. The director has asked herself these questions about the entire script and carries the arc of the story in her head. Actors are not expected to calibrate the performance based on the overall arc of the script; that is, they may cry in the scene, when holding back tears is what is called for. Only you—the director—know that each scene is a puzzle piece and where that piece fits.
FIGURE 10-1 Actor Dave Annable (“Justin Walker”) with director Bethany Rooney on the set of ABC’s Brothers & Sisters. (Brothers & Sisters trademarks and copyrighted material have been used with the permission of ABC Studios.)
This is a very subtle thing, as your actors will have read the whole script; they know the story, and they know the arc. But in that moment, when rehearsing an individual scene out of sequence, the director is responsible for the tone of the performance.
Only you, the director, knows that each scene is a puzzle piece and where that piece fits.
If you are not on the same page, then discussion is warranted. Ideally, this discussion takes place during rehearsal and the actors trust you to guide them. In large-budget productions, you will get rehearsal time before you begin production. You can work through every scene and figure each one out together before camera ever rolls. But in episodic television, the only rehearsal you have is the one before you shoot the scene. Mary Lou likes to streamline this process by addressing the subtext, or the meaning under the line. She finds it an efficient and specific way to make sure that you’re on the same page.
Here is an exercise to illustrate how subtext works.
Changing the Subtext
This exercise works great with a group. Sometimes you are the actor; sometimes you are an observer. Both are valuable ways to benefit from this exercise. Sit in a circle. The first “actor” turns to the next “actor” in the circle, makes eye contact, then delivers the line, thinking the first subtext. The line is, “I want to see you.” The first subtext is, “Can’t you give me a second?” Go around the entire circle. Let every person take a turn delivering the line. If it is not your turn to speak, observe whether the actor is specifically using the subtext given. As soon as everyone has said the line, change the subtext and go around the circle again. The second subtext can be, “I love you.” Third, “You will stop what you are doing and pay attention to me.” Fourth, “I can’t stand being here.”
So how does Mary Lou use the exercise on set? First, she addresses what she observed. “When you said this … ” and here she paraphrases, being careful not to give a line reading, or saying the exact line in the script, rather than the subtext, “I got that you were saying this …” and here she states the subtext. “But I think the character is thinking this … ” and here she states the new subtext. This approach can lead to further discussion if the actor ne
eds clarification, but generally the actor will take that information in and Mary Lou will say, “Okay, let’s try it again,” and the rehearsal proceeds.
Now let’s say you and your actors are on the same page, but they need some help. You need to direct them. You need to tell them how to shape or shade their performance. How do you tell them what to do? You do not need to get into a big discussion about anything. In every actor’s vocabulary, there are some code words that will help you achieve what you’re looking for. The fewer the words, the better. Think of them as pearls of wisdom … concise, pithy pearls.
So back to the words—the actor’s vocabulary. You have pulled the actor aside, and you are going to give him the magic words that will improve his performance. And we’re telling you, it really is like that. It’s like a key that turns a lock in the actor’s brain. You say the right words, the lock opens, and the magic comes out.
We’ve already discussed a few of these words, (point of view, subtext, intention, and obstacle), but there is also the lead-in to the magic words. Bethany often uses the phrase, “I’d like you to try [her idea].” She used to say, “Can you do [her idea]?” An older feisty actress with whom she worked liked to reply, “I can do anything. What do you want me to do, Miss Director?” The actress was putting her finger on a very salient point. When you say for you to try [some idea],” you are claiming your position as director while acknowledging that it’s a creative enterprise fraught with judgment. So “I’d like you to try [this idea]” is not threatening. It is saying, “I have a direction for you to go here; let’s see how it works, and don’t worry—we’re just trying it, so there’s no heavy judgment.”
When you ask an actor to try something, be specific about what you’re looking for: “I’d like you to try to play the intention more strongly.” Or, “I’d like you to try to play the obstacle more strongly.” But Bethany wants to make sure that the actor understands exactly what she’s talking about, so she uses the verb of that particular intention. So she might say: “I’d like you to try to play the intention of rejecting him more strongly.” Or “I’d like you to try to play the obstacle of still loving him more strongly.” By giving the actor direction and using a verb, you are giving him something specific to do. Take, give. Honor, hurt. Protect, flee.
When you give the actor a job to do, it’s a clean and clear direction. You won’t have to explain yourself, except to talk about degrees of commitment to the action. That can be as simple as the 1–10 scale: “That was great. But that was about a five. I’d like to see you take it to a ten.”
Ask for what you need as the director and the storyteller: “I’d like you to try to do this.” If it makes you uncomfortable to speak so forthrightly, you can use the more inclusive “we.” You might say, “We need more conflict in this scene.” And then, perhaps, you lead your actors where you want them to go by continuing with, “How could we do that?” When your actors come up with the answers themselves, they may be more likely to commit strongly. But whether you use the autocratic “I” or the inclusive “we,” the point is to steer your actors toward focusing on achieving their intentions.
When you give the actor a job to do, it’s a clean and clear direction. You won’t have to explain yourself, except to talk about degrees of commitment to the action.
As we discussed in Chapter 2, almost any scene will be better with a heightened sense of conflict. It’s a matter of energy, of focus, of sparks flying as two characters with opposing needs meet in a power struggle. It’s the difference between a tepid scene and a vibrant one. However, it isn’t enough to just say, “We need more conflict.” You must determine what those opposing needs are and what each character’s intention is, and you must ask your actors to play that intention more strongly.
However, one thing to look out for is an actor who is playing the achievement of the intention at the beginning of the scene. In that case, you might say something like, “I feel like you’re playing the end of the scene at the beginning. It might be better to give yourself somewhere to go, maybe play the obstacle (of whatever it is) more strongly.” When you say, “You’re playing the end at the beginning, give yourself somewhere to go,” that’s all you have to say. Your actor will totally get it, nod, and on the next take, make the adjustment.
But whenever you approach an actor, say something positive first. Say to your actor, “You are really on the right track. You really touched me. And I think it will be even better if you play the intention—or the obstacle—[with specific verb] more strongly.” Tell them they did well. Then tell them how they can do it better. And when they’ve hit the mark, you say, “Print it. Let’s move on.” There are no sweeter words to the actor’s ear. That means they did it. They nailed it. And when you have shown them you are worthy of their respect—because you are a great director—they want nothing more than for you to approve. And print it.
Tell them they did well. Then tell them how they can do it better. And when they’ve hit the mark, you say, “Print it. Let’s move on.” There are no sweeter words to the actor’s ear. That means they did it. They nailed it.
Remember in Chapter 2, when we talked about labels as a shorthand term for a type of character? A label is an adjective that describes a type of overall personality or feeling. That’s a positive thing, when you, the director, are thinking of the characters as an archetype. But using labels is a negative thing when you’re asking an actor to play a mood, which is giving direction by using an adjective. If you use a label with an actor, like “Play sadder,” you’ll get a general sad response. If you remind an actor of some specific sad thing that happened, you will get a specific response. The same goes for an ailment. Reminding an actor “You have a headache” isn’t as helpful as “You feel like someone is poking a needle into your left eye.” Also beware of an actor who figuratively wears a banner or label like “bad boy” or “perky girl.” This choice will lead to a caricature who makes clichéd choices rather than a full-blown character who has specific needs. Suggesting an intention to the actor with a verb should steer the actor away from the general character label. Perhaps the character is a “bad boy” because he’s an outsider, and all he wants now is to fit in with the group of characters in the scene. Now the actor has something specific to do—a goal to reach in the scene—and he can focus on achieving that.
CODE WORDS THAT TRIGGER PERFORMANCE
What are some other code words from the actor’s vocabulary? We’ve covered four: point of view, subtext, intention, and obstacle. Here are some more:
1. Raise the stakes.
2. Find peaks and valleys./Find more colors.
3. Who has the power?/Who’s winning?
4. What’s the new information?/What do you find out?
5. What if your character has this secret … ?
The first one, “Raise the stakes,” also means, “Commit to your intention more strongly.” Make the scene more important. Care more. Make a bigger deal out of it. Sometimes an actor’s energy is just a little down. All you have to say is, “Raise the stakes” and they get it. You don’t need to give them a lecture on where the character has been in the previous scene or the emotional point of view. Just say, “Raise the stakes” and they’ll say “Oh, okay,” and the scene will be exactly what you needed. If they don’t understand how much you’re asking them to raise the stakes, you can give it to them in numbers: “I’d say that was a five, and I’d like it to be an eight or nine.” Though that may sound nebulous, it’s a way for an actor to understand to what degree you want them to adjust his performance. On the next take, you may say, “Okay, you moved it up to a six. But I still think you can go stronger. I’d like to see it be an eight or nine.” And now they know what you want.
you’ve hired wonderful actors who are excellent at what they do. Let them do it. Don’t dictate to them every little nuance. Tell them what you’re looking for, but not how to do it. Tell them the shape of what you’re looking for and guide them and steer them if necessary, b
ut please respect their craft.
The second phrase, “Find the peaks and valleys” or sometimes “Find more colors,” is used when the scene is sounding all the same. Vocal inflection is flat. Don’t ever, ever give an actor a line reading. Don’t tell them where you want the emphasis. Just tell them, “Find more peaks and valleys” or “Find more colors,” and they’ll do it and probably surprise you with stuff you hadn’t even foreseen. After all, you’ve hired wonderful actors who are excellent at what they do. Let them do it. Don’t dictate to them every little nuance. Tell them what you’re looking for, but not how to do it. Tell them the shape of what you’re looking for and guide them and steer them if necessary, but please respect their craft.
The third code phrase, “Who has the power?” or “Who’s winning?”, challenges the actor to not only play his intention stronger but make sure that the character gets results. This phrase will often make actors pay closer attention to their scene partners and then notice a shift in the scene when their character gains or loses the power. You can even use the analogy of boxing. Ask the actor to notice who is getting in the jabs and who is winning the round.
Next, the phrases “What is the new information?” or “What do you find out?” remind actors that their character makes a discovery in the scene. And you don’t want to tell him what that discovery is. You do want him to listen and be in the moment (freshly aware) when that new information is told to him and see how it affects the scene. When the actor notices the shift and reacts accordingly, it makes the scene more dynamic.
Directors Tell the Story Page 16