Shocked By Bad Direction

Dear Shocked by Advice,

That’s the worst story I’ve heard about an acting class … maybe ever.

But it sort of falls in line with all sorts of bad ideas of training. In my book I talk about a student who was doing a monologue on the hills above Normandy at the end of World War II. The teacher told him to imagine that it was his mother’s front lawn - and after he did the monologue, the teacher applauded the fact that he was more connected. I lost it. Of course he was more connected, but it wasn’t the play!

Your instinct about this is exactly right. Being stoned might soften it, but it also is inappropriate for the material. It’s not the sort of circumstance that would need softness.

As to what you should do… there’s no answer. I’ve actually taken one of those classes. It wasn’t as outrageous as your example fortunately. When doing a scene between Nora and Tesman from Doll’s House, I was instructed to focus on Nora’s tits. The ludicrousness of the direction warped my sensibilities, especially since I’m gay. 

Although I don’t expect it to happen in the class you’re taking, it's worth sticking around just in case you learn something. It’s like all the acting books I own. Most of them have maybe two or three sentences highlighted. The good news is that I don’t know of a director who gives actor notes. Most of them are afraid of actors and it’s actually the reason that you practically have to be the part in order to get the job. Mind you, I wrote the beginning of the paragraph yesterday and my son is staying with me at the moment, while he shoots an episode of FBI. He said the director was constantly giving acting instructions to the actors, all of whom resented her. Her directions were clearly uninspired: “Lighter, Chris.” I encourage actors, when given an “effect” direction, to adjust the action they’re playing. Also this director is from Switzerland, so it’s not really clear what she’s saying or what she wants. 

Your response to his suggestion was spot on. The fact that what he said about it not working – may or may not be true. So much has to do with the taste of the director, which may or may not be worth anything. I was once so furious with a note I got from a director that I boldly asked, “I’m sorry but what films have you done?” I was not popular.

This story won’t help, but at least you’ll know you’re in good company. Many years ago I was coaching Kyra Sedgwick on the movie ‘Born on the Fourth of July.’ It starred Tom Cruise, was written by Ron Kovick, and directed by Oliver Stone. Ron Kovick had written an autobiographical book about his experience as a Viet Nam vet, returning after the war. I was teaching a class when someone came in and said there was a call in the office from Kyra. I took the call and her first words were, “First you have to understand, there are three directors on this film: Oliver Stone, Tom Cruse and Ron Kovick.” We had worked on a scene before she left for filming, where the Ron Kovick character runs into his old girlfriend. Tom told her that he thought she ought to play it more bitchy, not even remotely what we had rehearsed. I pointed out it was because Tom wanted to look like a good guy in the scene and suggested that she say to him, “Thanks, Tom. That’s exactly what I’ve been missing.” And then play it the way we rehearsed it.

It’s a terrible problem you’re having. There’s no easy solution. The one time I said to a writer, “Either the director goes or I go,” the writer fired the director. Unfortunately the director ran the theater and the play was cancelled.

There are so many things to learn in this career that are not connected to acting. How to put up with directors, teachers, other actors … whose ideas are bogus, is part of the learning curve. There are almost no great teachers out there. There are mostly people like the one you’ve run into, who think they have a great key. Because they only get sent bad scripts is due to the fact that they’re not in a position of power or they just don’t know talented writers. Or maybe good people don’t want to work with them. Or maybe they don’t know how to develop good material. But they turned it into a snob thing: "We only use actors real life trauma/experiences to bring characters to life.” They think they’ve come up with a good idea. Yikes!

Like I said. It’s the worst story I’ve ever heard about an acting class … ever.

Keep in touch.

Milton

Related Backgrounds

Dear Milton

A teacher of mine recently told me that it’s easier to play a part if you share the same ethnic background. Do you think that’s true?

Sincerely,

Figuring It Out

Dear Figuring It Out,

It’s insanely stupid to even remotely suggest that it’s easier to play a part based on your ethnic background. I suppose it might be if you grew up in a household where everyone spoke German and secretly had a nazi flag in the cupboard, but to even to suggest such a concept is nuts. Trust me. I could never play a Texan. Being mentally deranged is too far for me to go. [Okay. I left myself open for that one.]

Your teacher’s statement shows a complete lack of understanding of what makes a human being … and how that human being is specific in their approach to acquiring a role. One would have thought that because the entire cast of the recent revival of Boys in the Band was gay, it would have made for an inspired production. As it is, it sucked. (Excuse the reference!) That’s the reason all these stupid rules are so ridiculous. Your background is so different from say Mark Ruffalo's, who also grew up in Wabash, there’s no way you could work on a part the same way he would. 

What’s interesting is when you started that sentence, what I thought you were going to say was that it was easier to play something that is in no way related to you. I have actually found that to be true. However, it has nothing to do with whether it’s part of your being or not. It has to do with the idea of starting from scratch. You have no doubt memorized my book and recall that an early chapter is called “I Know Nothing.” The idea that I know nothing about being a German Nazi leaves you open to discovery. Everything is new and therefore more usable.

 I encourage you to trust your instincts. Aside from being pretty, you’re really smart. You told me that you didn’t think the idea of family ethnicity in regards to acting made sense. You’re right. It doesn’t make sense. I think it’s a good rule, especially for someone like you. Ask yourself, “Does that make sense?” If it doesn’t make sense, then it probably isn’t workable. Also, if you don’t know the answer, either because you haven't tried it or you haven’t seen evidence of it, then admit that to yourself. 

Acting is a brilliant lifelong pursuit. The people I’ve met in the upper reaches of this work are all about my age and are constant searching for the answers. That’s why we meet. In fact one of the big discussions at this week’s symposium was the production of Three Sisters, where Stanislavsky played Vershenin and Maria Knebel (one of the great actors/teachers) played Masha. The discussion was about the major disagreement they had about emotional connection. 

I would encourage you to keep asking questions, despite the trouble you got in with the teachers of your bad training. And never settle for the answer. What thrills me about this work is that I keep discovering things and also modifying what I think. I had a particularly humorous moment with Chris Petrovski when we were living together in L.A. I came home from class … ecstatic. “I made the most incredible discovery in class tonight.” I told him what it was and he looked blankly at me. “You do know that you taught me that,” he replied. “Yes. But now I really understand it.”

Keep in mind our affection for each other began because you explained to me that you didn’t like to prepare because you didn’t want to lose the spontaneity. I, of course, lost it. I’m assuming the concept made sense to you, but then you recently emailed me about your frustration of not being able to make choices instantly. At some point you will put these two together. I think I mentioned to you the story of Chris Carmack (currently a co-star on Grey’s Anatomy). He said he’d discovered the secret of acting: “I do nothing.” And then he added, “If it goes well, I know I’ve prepared enough. If it doesn’t, I know I haven’t.” 

Milton

Less Is More? More is More? Less is Less?

Milton, 

I’ve recently listened to several talks about acting on stage versus acting for camera. I have heard the “Do Less” quote quite often, as well as the “Less is Less" quote. I do notice that on camera, actors, including many well known stage actors, do a bit less. Of course for the frame there are restrictions, but I also notice a bit more constraint in some facial expression and vocals. Or, some well trained stage actors rely heavily on their voice to carry their intentions. 

Am I wrong here?  Do you see this at all? If so, what are you suggesting to actors that have this same question?

Gratefully, 

Do I Do Less?

My dear friend,

It’s so pleasing to hear from you – and to see that you (like me) continue on this frustrating journey to figure out acting. It still keeps me up at night.

I was once forced to teach an “acting for camera” class – and after one semester, I never did it again. The only interesting discovery I made was that, because there were both film students (who had a requirement to take one acting class) and theater students in the same class, the camera caught the actors “acting”. Any time they were faking it, any time they were “playing” an action, you could see it clearly. The film students, who didn’t want to be there in the first place, basically did nothing except make sense of the lines, which they invested nothing in … and it was much more effective.

But, why? And this is a big difference between what I consider to be an actor acting and someone who is basically a personality actor. 

There was a girl in the class, who was an absolutely incredible person in real life. She was smart, cryptic and hilarious. [Keep in mind, I was using scenes from mostly television. Maybe a couple of films, but not well known films.] Carlotta brought her own personality to the table. It turned really dull dialogue into a fun, bitchy exchange. Would I ever cast her in play? Never! Would I go to dinner with her? Absolutely! The sign of an actor is the ability to create a character in play. Not a personality saying words.

Andrew Garfield is a delightful interview. He seems like a very dear person, but he absolutely sucks on stage. He was terrible in both Angels in America and even worse in Death of a Salesman. I don’t consider it his fault. He studied with the recently deceased Sandra Seacat. Sandra, who I loved personally, was an amazingly destructive teacher. Very Strasberg. Completely relying on yourself. Unfortunately poor Andrew was completely limited by who he is. On the other hand Sandra coached Marlo Thomas on a TV Movie I produced, and Marlo won an Emmy Award. Marlo had more to bring to the table in a TV Movie and Sandra helped her get it. I’d like to add here that I saw Marlo do Six Degrees of Separation on stage (after having seen Stockard Channing’s definitive performance of the part, I might add) and she was god awful. Not only did she have no connection to the character, her own unpleasantness as a person in life was what came through. 

I have never EVER taken screen acting too seriously. I know from years as a producer that you only have to get the performance right once. The editor and director will create the performance they’re looking for – in the editing room. And that’s not to say that I’m not in love with numerous screen performances (and I’m relieved that we have permanent records of them), but I’m also aware of all sorts of things. Like how we cast (the part walks in the room). 

I find all these books and classes in screen acting to be just another ripoff. They didn’t have these classes when Marlon did On the Waterfront or The Godfather, or Meryl did Sophie’s Choice. And they still gave us defining performances of those parts. 

As to doing less. Well, who knows? If an actor includes the audience in their circle of attention it will naturally be bigger. If you’re including a camera in your circle of attention, what with the camera often being three feet away, it’s naturally going to be smaller. It doesn’t even feel to me as if it’s something you have to work on. 

Most of my problems come from actors who don’t listen and respond. “Active listening”. I think actors are led to believe that listening is just staring into space, when really hearing what your partner is saying should lead you to respond. It’s “active listening” because the audience sees what is going on with you as you’re hearing it. This is where I think these bullshit teachers get the idea to do less. I can just see all those bad performances of actors responding, like an SNL sketch. My fear about these instructions is that they lead to tricks that have nothing to do with the play you’re doing. “Look at her as if she’s wearing a really strange hat,” is something that I once heard an acting teacher say to a student. [I had to leave the classroom.] Same thing with ‘less is less’. It’s also dangerous because you worry about playing an effect, rather than the truth of the moment you’re in. In life we always know what another person is thinking. It’s the reason I like zoom classes. I can tell if something isn’t making sense. 

The interesting concept here is that because you’re responding to your partner it adjusts how you play your acting. If she agrees with you, you play the action one way. If she doesn’t, you play it another. 

Doesn’t it all sound easy!

These are my thoughts on a Monday morning.

Keep in touch!

Milton

CASTING DIRECTORS TEACHING ACTING? A CONVERSATION WITH JAMES

My dear James,

You’re forcing me to consider writing a sequel to my book. Clearly I need to go further into depth with certain discussions.

There are many reasons I have problems with casting directors giving sessions – and not just because I think it’s clearly a money-making endeavor, based on the desperation of actors. Many years ago I took a screenwriting seminar from Robert McKee. Everybody took it. AND it was brilliant. But, none of us were deluded into believing we could now write a sceenplay. We’d been given and insight into story structure. I think actors walk out of these classes thinking they’ve been taught how to act.

Why actors like these things: Actors are really secretly looking for a quick answer that will let them avoid actually learning how to act. It’s like there’s this way to get a job using some tricks that a casting director tells them. It’s odd that these sessions have survived considering all auditions are on tape these days. And you can pretty much learn on youtube the important things about putting yourself on tape. And yet actors get sucked in. 

Don’t get me wrong, I have worked with brilliant casting directors. Here, Canada and the UK. Casting directors who read the script and have intelligent responses to the material. In fact my brilliant son, Chris Petrovski, was cast on Madam Secretary from a video audition that was sent to the casting director. I have no idea if he showed it to producers, but we sent it in and he got the part. Although he was initially hired for “one to three” episodes, he ended up doing twenty-nine.

One of the reasons actors do these workshops is, of course, the belief that this casting director will hire them. I think that’s one of the ways they subtly sell a workshop. I don’t know major casting directors who do this, but that might have changed. I sent Petrovski to one, thinking it would be good for him to work on a piece a material and show it to someone outside of class. She gave him “5’s” on every area of evaluation with a note indicating how talented he was. I later saw that she was casting something he was perfect for. I had Chris enclose her evaluation with his submission. He never heard from her.

I’d actually like to do a survey of my students who have been cast recently – as to whether or not they took such a workshop. I doubt it. I had an actor cast on an episode of The Rookie a few weeks ago (definitely never took a workshop) and another one cast last week on some Apple TV series. In fact the casting director on the Apple Series is Avy Kaufman, who is truly one of the great casting directors. She chose Wesley no doubt because he’s a really good actor - and he’s pretty much never left class for long. He just keeps studying.

This is so weird. I just got this text from Wesley, who was shooting his scene in the Apple Series today: "I’m On set and I was listening to the last class you just sent me while driving to the set and you said something like 'every line that’s written is another thing that the writer added. A writer does not keep on making the same point.' So I made those my goals for my scene, to get forward motion. And the director came to me at the end of my close ups and said, 'omg you are so good, so good ( in his Hungarian accent ). You filled all the spaces with so many moments. Thank you.' I never had a director thank me before. 😂😂"

Actors are extremely susceptible to the easy way out. That’s why there are so many bad teachers. They make acting sound like some easy outline to fill in. If a casting director is giving a session showing how to light yourself, get decent sound, edit an audition tape … all that mechanical stuff, then great. But they are not teaching acting. They cannot give any actor a paint-by-number approach to getting cast. If actors come away thinking they got that, then they are sadly being misled. And I think it’s criminal. 

The producer of my podcast, Walker Vreeland, asked me to ask you if you would consider putting any part of your original email to me (about the book) on the Amazon website page. He agrees with me, it’s the best thing anyone has said about the book. Quite frankly I find it gauche to ask, but comments like yours help people decide.

More later,

MJ

Milton,

Good morning to you. 

I have put my original response to you on Amazon.  (Reworded as if to the Amazon potential readers).  Thank you and Walker Vreeland for reminding me to do so.  It’s the least I can do.  By the way, the podcasts are exceptional!!!

Many acting friends of mine have returned from a single day or several day casting director workshop with profound adoration for the entire experience.  After discussing their participation, I don’t understand the adulation.  In your book you stated that  “casting directors giving workshops should be against the law.”  Can you tell me your thoughts on this popular practice?

Gratefully,

James

Hey, James,

There are two completely erroneous ideas about directing a play. The first is that actors can’t do their work until the play is blocked. And the other, even more dangerous, is that the actors have to be off book in order to act. I think this comes from someone’s class called Directing 101. I consider it to be like any classes in the fundamentals. You learn them to forget them.

My feeling about blocking and, even though I didn’t ask him, Stanislavsky’s as well is that “blocking” has to come out of the action of the scene … the impulse of the scene … what’s going on in the scene. And hopefully the play will grow during the rehearsals. Therefore the blocking will change. If a director has given you ’where to go when,' then it’s kind of set in stone and even though the impulse of the scene might have changed, you’re stuck with something that fights against it.

Early on in my directing life, I was assistant to Gerald Freedman (mentioned on p. 174 in the definitive book on acting, I Don’t Need An Acting Class) – and Jerry’s note to the actor’s when we started rehearsals for a production of The Little Foxes was, “Don’t move unless you have to.” Mind you this was a production with Lee Grant, Burgess Meredith, Carroll O’Connor, Barbara Barrie, Harris Yulin and Bruce Davison … so the group was experienced enough to find their way. At one point Freedman turned to me during rehearsals, when Barbara was stumbling on a moment, “Do I tell her what to do or do I let her figure it out for herself?” When I suggested that she be allowed to figure it out for herself, he assured me I was on track to being a good director. Jerry, who would eventually be both head of Juilliard and then the North Carolina School of the Arts, understood the importance of actors coming up with their own choices. They’re committed to them. I confess, however, it’s one of the reasons I like being a teacher-director. I can be more involved with the actor’s journey. I’ve always enjoyed the idea of helping actors apply their technique to the work.

On occasion truly genius directors have a great theater sense and will use blocking in a way that brilliantly feeds the play. In Jack Heifner’s “Vanities,” which my friend Garland Wright directed, there was a moment in the second act where the character of Joanne tells her two best friends about why she ended up with a degree in music. “I’d go to registration and stand around and stand around and all the tables for math and science were so crowded…” Garland told Kathy Bates (who was playing Joanne) to visually look around as if seeing the room where registration took place (the college gymnasium); it always got a laugh. In the third act of the same play the character of Mary – an art gallery owner, who’s fed up with Joanne’s naivety tells her that she recently sold a guy a sculpture that was a six foot neon erection. Joanne’s response is, “For heaven’s sake!” Garland’s note to Bates was, “The longer you hold before you say that line, the bigger the laugh will be.” He was right. Brought the house down every performance. Funny thing is that we used the same blocking years after Kathy had left the production. The play ran for over five years and then I toured with the last cast that was in it in New York. I hired one of the actresses to put someone new in the production and she did not give her that particular blocking. [I think it was because she didn’t want the new girl to get a laugh.] Fortunately I was able to add it during the run-through before we opened in Nashville – and the laugh was restored.

Quite honestly I think actors are also to blame. They want to be blocked. I’m always mortified when someone announces to me, “I’m really a director’s actor.” What it says to me is that the actor wants the director to tell them what to do … and then they can do it. Last Sunday I went to a matinee off-Broadway. It was the worst directed play I’ve ever seen. They stupidly put the sofa stage center. I can’t tell you how many times two actors would stand on opposite ends of the sofa and talk. Add to that they were talking and their arms folded. The direction was uncomfortable, the actors were uncomfortable, and the play just didn’t take flight. I’m getting so hold that I realize the time will come when I stop a production and say something.

When I was in college I had a directing class and the professor presented a definition of the director that always stayed with me. “The director is the person who allows the production.” The implication was that everyone was doing their creative work and my job was to shove it a little there, mold it a little here, massage it a bit … but mostly it was the job of the actors to create the play. The professor also admitted that you have to be very brave to trust your actors.

I have never blocked a play as far as I recall. What is amazing is how many times I received rave reviews for my blocking. “Director Milton Justice does wonders with the narrow stage, orchestrating the nine cackling characters on a postage stamp of a playing arena…” As I recall (it really was a small space with lots of actors) there was a moment when I said, “He kids. You’re all clumped up there. Move somewhere.”

There was a moment when I directed Long Day’s Journey Into Night (and I had four actors and the maid on stage for four hours), when I watched every production I could find in search of blocking. I was petrified at the idea of two actors at a table for an hour and fifteen minutes (in Act IV) and hardly moving at all. As it turned out we had all done our jobs: the understanding of the play was so extraordinary and had such depth (one of the actors was the twenty-one-year-old Mark Ruffalo) that any movement would have been distracting. In fact a Broadway revival several years ago (which starred Vanessa Redgrave) completely destroyed the same scene because the director insisted on blocking.

You’ve made me want to direct again. Also write a sequel to my book and include your questions.

Keep those cards and letters coming!

My best,

Milton

Good morning Milton!

I hope all is exceedingly well with you!

In your book you mentioned Stanislavski at one point was no longer concerned with blocking his stage plays.  Why do you feel so many directors today (at least the ones I’ve met) find blocking their first and foremost obsession?   I’ve witnessed this confuse actors with literally daily changes being made.  The latest production (I volunteered as stage manager) ended with approximately forty to fifty percent of the constantly changing blocking being retained and the substance of the play being massively compromised (in my opinion).  Of course the audience doesn’t know what it doesn’t know.  They only see and hear what is presented, but I know there was a lot more potential that was never explored.  

Gratefully,

James

Hi, James

What I have found with read throughs is that, if I have cast well, the read through will be exactly what I’d hoped. The problem is that no one knows enough about the play to make choices and the read through is really blind instinct. A director friend of mine once said to me, “I find that the whole rehearsal process is getting back to what happened in the read through.” 

What I found was that if we do “table work” for a period of time, once we get to the script we know enough about what is going on to make intelligent choices that feed the play. 

Directors no doubt want a read through to see if they’ve actually cast well … and how the play will sound. It really isn’t the best way to do it, but it’s something of a tradition. Igmar Bergman, the Swedish director, started the rehearsals by reading the script to the cast. He actually started the whole process by reading the script to the creative team – over a weekend. He would read the script to them on Friday night and then spend all day Saturday going through the text answer questions. Then everyone would leave for a month to do their creative work and then they would reassemble to begin work.

No one will ever change this idea. Most directors don’t really know their plays well enough to sit at a table and talk about it. Because I spent the last teaching years at a college, I was able to do it. I once overheard an audience member say after the play was over, “I can’t believe young people have that much depth.” That was why.

Best to you.

Please forward any questions.

Milton

Hi Milton,

You mention in your book that you stopped having read throughs.  I find this a very interesting statement.  Can you tell me please why you choose not to do this anymore? 

I often wonder about the reasons why directors compel actors to go through this once the play has been cast. 

Gratefully,

James

Milton,

I’m compelled to write and tell you that your book, “I Don’t Need an Acting Class”, is simply brilliant.  The moment I finished, I began reading it again.  I am sure I will be reading this book over and over, and referring to it always.  I truly find it that inspiring.

 Without exaggeration, this is my most valuable book on the subject of acting.  You have touched on every important subject an actor should know to expand the potential of their performances. Your unique insight, humor, experience, knowledge and honesty make the study of acting a joy for those of us committed getting better at our craft.  You are an amazing source of inspiration!

With sincere thanks and appreciation,

James

Dear James,

Stella called it blood memory. It’s extremely difficult to bring that to a part. That sense of something in you that exists simply because it’s in your being. I think in real life we can’t change it. Accessing it in acting a part is a goal we’re after. Meryl has a real gift for it. Her work in Sophie’s Choice is still haunting. 

Sometimes it’s part of what we bring for free to the table. Often I’m afraid we have to fight through it. My blood memory had to do with being white middle class. It almost killed me breaking through that. Stella once said to me, "One day you’ll walk into the office and say to me, 'Stella, I’m a Jew' and then I can stop worrying about you!" I don’t think I ever completely got over it. I saw a tape of me in a play and I found myself not very interesting. I gave up acting soon after. 

'A play is about ideas' is something most actors have not been taught. Bringing yourself up to the size of the idea is unheard of as a concept and a great challenge to young actors today. I think it was easier for my generation. Growing up in the sixties was huge in terms of setting a foundation. Teo and I watched a movie called "Seven Days in May" the other night. Amazing - an extremely long scene with two characters (played by Frederick March and Gregory Peck) arguing about democracy. Even the movies we were brought up on had writing … and ideas … AND acting. 

It’s a struggle. But often there is a breakthrough and it’s all worth it. 

See you soon. 

MJ

Sent from my iPad