By Tom Radcliffe
When are actors bad? When they are self-conscious, stiff, awkward or contrived. In life, when do people behave like this? When they feel afraid, confused, uncertain, exposed or out of their depth. Sound at all familiar?
Consider: most people would rather die than stand up in front of 400 people and try to entertain them.
What do we do when we’re afraid? Well, basically, it’s ‘flight or fight’ and, since ‘flight’ is not really an option for an actor (although thinking about it, it has been known to occur), it’s basically ‘fight’. Some actors wade in swinging madly and hoping for the best. Others will plan everything they’re going to do in advance - how they’re going to say their lines, when and where they’re going to move and when to laugh, cry, shout, wink and whisper, etc.
The advantage with the first kind of actor is that he has life and spontaneity and can be brilliant and dynamic. However, it is very hit and miss and can be wildly inappropriate. Such actors are often seen as ‘mavericks’ and difficult to work with.
The second kind of actor is ‘a real professional’. His work is very precise and often a lot of time and effort goes into it but have you ever noticed how quickly it gets set, how soon it becomes a chore to do and to watch? Usually such an actor finds it terribly difficult to adapt to changes in the way other actors are working in a scene and is deeply suspicious of the first kind of actor.
There is a third category: the actors who just ‘play themselves’. In other words they play it safe, only doing what they know will work. If they happen to have interesting personal mannerisms, they may be quite successful. The ‘downside’ is of course that people may, sooner or later, get bored with seeing them do the same old thing and they’ll move on to something else.
So, to summarise, all these basic approaches have an ‘upside’ and a ‘downside’.
Spontaneity – Wildness
Precision – Dullness
‘Being yourself’ – Lack of versatility / Predictability
All three approaches have one thing in common: they spring basically from fear - the fear of failure, the fear of being no good. This is not a particularly good starting point for creativity because it is defensive rather than curious and as such is limited.
So let’s say the perfect actors are spontaneous, precise, versatile and courageous. Working from a basis of open curiosity about everything in life, they would manage to be relaxed and responsive whilst being absolutely precise and specific about the scene they were playing. They would also have the ability to bring about any external transformation which might be required of them with a minimum of fuss and no loss of authenticity. Yes?
This is the kind of actor the Meisner technique sets out to produce.
Initially, actors are encouraged to drop their fear, to come out from behind the battlements and to throw away their tricks, clichés and theatrical devices (many of which they may be completely unaware of). They will be invited to become completely spontaneous, ‘naked responders’ to whatever happens in the classroom.
They then embark on an increasingly complex series of exercises, improvisations and
scenework which gradually trains them to use their imagination, thereby influencing their behaviour specifically in order to bring it into line with the intentions of the playwright.
The last stage involves monologues and ’character work’ and this is where the actor can learn to use the bag of tricks again but this time from a completely new basis of joyful expression.
There is an old Zen saying, “ In the beginning men are men, mountains are mountains and streams are streams. In the middle, men are not men, mountains are not mountains and streams are not streams. Then at the end, men are men, mountains are mountains and streams are streams – but there is no fear, no confusion and no slavery to any of it.�