Understanding Why Something Worked (Or Didn’t.)

Hey Milton, 

I’ve been a huge fan of your podcast for a while (though I haven’t gotten through all of it yet). So forgive me if this is something that gets discussed at some point, but I had to ask - 

I have quite a good first instinct when it comes to rehearsing a scene, however, I’ve found that the more I rehearse the less raw the scene feels. Almost like I found the perfect routine to make this scene good but because it’s routine I feel no longer as engaged in it, it’s more of a mimic of what I’ve done in the past. 

How does one overcome over rehearsing and loosing the genuine emotions of a scene? 

Thanks so much and best wishes from Israel,

Rehearsal Problems

Dear Rehearsal Problems,

I think your question was the basis of the impulse to write my book and later the podcast. The book title is, of course, ironic. Named I Don’t Need An Acting Class, the book then proceeds to explain why an actor in fact does need an acting class. One of the early quotes is one I love (although paraphrased, it’s stolen from the famous screenwriting guru, Robert McKee): “Talent without a technique is like a Porsche with no gas.” 

The very general idea behind the quote is that having a technique means you know where your choices come from … why you made them … what to adjust when they’re not working. Your problem is something that I think may be the worst problem imaginable. And I’m talking about in any area of acting. Auditioning, performance, doing countless takes. Not knowing why you were fabulous or why you blew it. I advise my actors to make a note after any acting: it it worked, why did it? If it didn’t, why didn’t it? I even suggest after they see a play they note why an actor was or was not good.

The lack of need for a technique is one of the problems with film acting: you only have to get it right once. The editor will [hopefully] choose the right take and make you look great. It’s also the reason American movie actors fail so badly when they go onstage. They’re used to following their blind instincts, which never work more than a few times. They have no technique.

I’m afraid you’re stuck. Your problem is classic. There are several solutions, but they all come from an ability to figure out which part of the technique to use. I first started coaching when I saw it happen to an actor in a film I was producing. His first take was incredible. He knew it … the director knew … the actress opposite him knew it. And then the second take sucked. I saw the panic on his face and walked up and whispered to him, “Forget the first take. Just play the action of the scene.” He was fine.

Sometimes that’s it. But that was only that actor in that situation. He knew what the action of the scene was (I prefer the word “impulse” actually), but he was trying to recreate what happened in the first take. Refocusing on what the scene was about was what he needed to do. There are so many possibilities to solve the problem: sometimes you have to add to a past you might have created. Other times … Well, that’s just it. There is no clear answer. It depends on the issue in that moment. It’s why you need a technique. It gives you the tools you need to work with.

Best to you.

Milton

The Concept of “Or”

Not everyone was in class on Saturday, so I just wanted to go over what we talked about. It’s about choices. Although I suggested that everyone come up with the reason “why the woman left the package at the desk in the department store,” I’m including all of the original choices. Feel free to choose another one.

The idea here is that, our first choice will no doubt be a cliché. So we get it out of the way. And then we say to ourselves “ or ” … and then the work begins. This is when you really have to dig to find what’s kick ass. 

This work becomes easier and more automatic, once it becomes a habit.

Here’s an exercise to work on…

Five Reasons:

•      5 reasons why you complained in some circumstance – same place, 5 reasons

•      5 reasons why you complimented somebody

•      5 reasons why you left your job

•      5 reasons why you took the other job

•      5 reasons why you helped someone on the street

•      5 reasons why the chorus girl left the job

•      5 reasons the man crossed the street so fast

•      5 reasons why the mother left the package at the desk in the department store

•      5 reasons why you came back up the staircase in your house

•      5 reasons why you opened the window

Dear one,

It takes a while to break bad habits, but you need to keep working unrelentingly on the habit of making acting choices based on how you would respond. There is no sin in taking time to really think about the answer to issues. 

You need to know, despite your research, that if you took a hundred people who were all doing things they knew were wrong, you would get a hundred different ideas of how they respond to it. To begin with there is an idea of what is right and what is wrong. And do we know if it’s right or wrong? Of course we do. I had the hottest boyfriend in history. Tall, blond, well built, huge cock … and yet on my way home one day I ran into an old friend and we had quick sex. Of course I knew I shouldn’t, but … So if you asked me what is my response to doing something I knew was wrong, … I did it anyway. Having grown up in the disco era there was a lot of coke. I loved coke. And one day I just stopped. Even my therapist said it was shocking that I just woke up one day and decided it was time to stop. Yet that is another response to doing something I knew was wrong. I stopped doing it. Trust me I could easily come up with a hundred different things I’ve done wrong in my life … and the different responses to them.

You jumped immediately to “he hid.” I’m not sure that would ever be a response anyway, but it’s certainly not the one in this play. You must refer to the play you’re in. You must look at the character: who he is, what he does for a living, whether or not he’s successful, etc etc etc … and then look at what the play says he does. 

I’m going to keep on your ass about his. Through no fault of your own, you got an extremely inadequate education. You’re in good company. Petrovski was the most uneducated person I’ve ever met. The study of Geography at his school was a class trip to FiJi. Greg hadn’t heard of Anchorage. I’m not sure Ruffalo had ever read a book when I met him. But you need to really slow down and learn how to think. You answer most questions as if there is only one possible answer, which is: what you would do. 

I think when I ask you a question, you are more interested in answering the question as quickly as possible than asking yourself: what do I know about this guy? This is not some pischer from Utah who’s lost in the big city, this is a guy who has managed through his extraordinary ability to work his way into the office of a man who is in a seat of power in the government of the country. And not one line of dialogue in the play indicates that anyone either suspects he’s gay or that he’s hiding it. 

You need to clearly think out the facts of the play. And really consider what they mean. I fear you are just sort of mentally listing them. You may think you know the facts about Joe, but you are not layering in this information so that you are able to cobble together a person. I still don’t have a sense that you have any idea who he is. I think it’s one of the reasons you jump to one bad choice after another. You’re just throwing it out there. Not adding “active facts” to this person you’re building.

Okay. Now I can get back to cleaning.

Love

Professor Justice