Slice and Dice

If there's ever any issue around time (eg. being part of a larger evening and needing to fit within a certain amount of time, trying to run without an intermission, just being too darn long, etc.) do your cuts before you get into the room.

I didn't think I would need to remind myself of this, but I recently made this exact mistake. It fell into the category of "I thought it wouldn't be an issue, so I didn't worry about it." Admittedly, you can't worry about everything. There are only so many hours in the day. But this particular instance wasn't about a lack of time. It was laziness (and perhaps false security).

Script cuts are not something I feel comfortable doing on the fly. They can be emotional for the playwright, who worked very hard to make the lines sound just so, as well as the actors, who are working hard to memorize and shape them. When working on a new piece, my ideal scenario is that I think through the cuts by myself, then discuss with the playwright, then let the actors know what the new landscape is (and allow them to petition for anything that they feel strongly about). For an established script, any cuts should be done before the actors ever see the production version of the script.

It's my responsibility to be smart about what I think should be cut and why. It's also my responsibility to avoid wasting our time in the room (if at all possible) while I suss that out. And ultimately, it's my responsibility to make the piece work within all of its confines. Limits are limits. You're welcome to be creative within those limits. But if you refuse to accept reality, it's only going to come back and bite you in the end. Nobody wins a Tony for the potential of their idea. They win a Tony for how their idea is executed.

Make the cuts that should get you where you need to be. Then take a second pass and make the cuts that will get you well beyond where you need to be. If you can make it work with the more severe version, go with that. This applies to any cuts you need to make regarding time or money. Cut early and cut hard. It's significantly easier to add things back. And once you've tried the lean route you'll have a better sense of what would be most beneficial to add back in.

Only taking action will get you the information you need. If you make the cuts, you'll learn whether they are too much. You'll learn what's crucial to this story. You'll learn what’s crucial to this production. Giving yourself the opportunity to think through those choices beforehand will help you make a decision about a direction to take. (Alternatively, being forced to make a choice in the moment forces you into guessing. Sometimes you make the right guess, but that's definitely not the lane I like to travel in.)

I will repeat. If there’s a possibility that time might be an issue, plan your cuts. If there’s a possibility that you might not be able to afford the production that you’re hoping for, plan your cuts. Maybe you won't need them. But if you do need them, you won't be guessing. You'll have a plan. Part of your job as the capital of the ship, is to anticipate and plan for what could go wrong. And time and money are reliably sparse in this business.

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Post them below. The more, the merrier.

5 Seconds of Caring.

When I was a kid, my mother had this phrase - "Five seconds of caring!" - which was constantly being deployed around our house. What it referred to was the fact that it only took "five seconds" to put away the shoes that were left by the door or wipe down the counter where we'd left crumbs from our sandwich. The moral of the story being that it only took a moment to give a damn.

I'm in rehearsal for a show at the moment. It's a big project with lots of moving pieces and our director isn't able to be in the room with us at all times. For one run in particular, we were left in the hands of our stage manager. I'm involved in a large fight sequence with wooden staffs that are about 5 feet long and just over an inch thick. During the fight, my opponent accidentally landed a strong blow to my fingers. Her staff should have hit my staff, but somehow, my fingers got in the way. There was no blood but it was a severe enough hit for us to have to stop and regroup. I know someone asked it I was ok (I think it was my opponent), to which I replied, "We'll find out". We finished the fight and the remainder of the scene that followed it. Following that, I was released from rehearsal. Since my character is killed in the fight, and our director was not in the room, there wouldn't be notes and there was no reason for me to stay.

I left rehearsal feeling less than thrilled, to put it mildly. I expected that our stage manager would check in with me to make sure everything was fine, but there was only, "Great. Cotton, you're released. Moving on to the next scene." Granted, I'm an adult and no bones were broken and no blood was spilled. But I was hit in a rehearsal with enough force to leave purple bruises on my fingers. The fight choreographer did follow me out into the hall to make sure I was ok and ask if I thought we needed to rework anything to make it safer, which I sincerely appreciated. But the person in charge did not take five seconds to investigate the extent of the injury that happened in their rehearsal.

I don't mean to imply that our stage manager wasn't sufficiently doing her job. I honestly think it was just a moment where she made the assumption that everything was fine. But the keystone of people feeling cared for is that tiny bit of extra concern. And when things are really starting to get hectic, it's easy for that to get pushed aside. Not caring is the default of caring, much like chaos is the fault of order.

When you are the one who's actually in charge, when you are the one left in charge, when you somehow get stuck being the face of an organization, it's your job to care. Set the tone. Set the expectation. How you lead will greatly impact those in your charge. Patients sue doctors not because they have actually received inferior medical care, but because they feel they have been slighted. Military personnel when asked why they risked life and limb to save a fellow soldier in battle often respond, "they would have done the same for me".  If we want a team of people to give us their everything, they have to know we really care about them. Not just when it's easy or convenient, but at every turn. Give the five seconds.

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Post them below. The more the merrier.