Too Far, Too Fast?

Boundaries tend to be pretty loose in theater. It's arguably one of the few industries where you can meet someone for the first time (who might be the same sex or the opposite sex) and then be in the middle of a scene, kissing them five minutes later. It's also one of the few places where you could be in your underwear on your first day of work. These things aren't part of the typical job description.

That being said everyone has their line in the sand and/or the speed at which they feel safe driving. And both of those limits should be respected. There have been times when I've been a reader for auditions and had actors I've just met touch my face or my leg during their audition. For me, that's further and faster than I'm comfortable with. If, however, any of those actors had asked me right off the bat "is it okay if I touch you" I would have been completely fine with it. My boundaries with regard to that are related to the fact that it's within the context of an audition and I'm a reader, not your scene partner. When you touch me without asking, it makes me think "oh God, what other off the wall thing is this person going to do?" In that scenario, touching me without asking is too far. When I'm in rehearsal, my boundaries are different - I don't think twice about someone doing that. But if you don't ask, you won't know what someone's comfort level is.
The conversation can be had at multiple points of entry.

- My favorite option is for the director to voice how fast and how far they would like things to go and confirms with the actors that's they're all okay with that. As an actor, this option makes me feel like someone is looking out for me and wants me to feel safe, which makes it that much easier for me to do my job. Also, with this set up everyone starts on the same page.
- If the director doesn't clarify those things, the actor who's about to initiate potentially boundary crossing behavior, can check in and ask his/her fellow actor if they're okay with what you're about to do. This is my next favorite option. Again, it's a scenario that helps me feel safe and respected.
- Failing the other two possible points where this could have been addressed, the actor who's boundaries have been breached should feel able to say this is too far/too fast for me. I find this option to be the most difficult. Because the boundaries are often so lax in theater, it can be hard to say this is too fast for me without feeling like a stick in the mud. However, you are the only one who can speak up for yourself. If no one knows you're uncomfortable, they can't take steps to help you. Additionally, if there's something in the script that you are particularly worried about, you may just want to do preemptive strike and talk to the director about it before rehearsals begin.

I will grant you, it's super easy to NOT have this conversation. Doing nothing is always easier than doing something, but beyond that it's easy to assume that our boundaries are pretty normal and that everyone else probably has boundaries that are close enough to our own that it won't be a problem. (This is what I like to call "I'm sure it will be fine" syndrome.) It's the same thing that happens when you move in with a new roommate. Most of us (myself included) decide we don't need to have the conversation about when the garbage should be taken out or how many dishes should be allowed to pile up in the sink. And then we spend the duration of our co-habitation kicking ourselves when it turns out that our normal isn't as close to someone else's normal as we thought.

So, instead, why not just bite the bullet? In all likelihood, this discussion can be had in less than 5 minutes. "Hey, I'm assuming you guys are okay with jumping to kissing and touching once we are start blocking this scene. Please let me know if that's not the case." Or "I'm planning to block this scene first and make sure everyone knows what's going on with it. Then we can start figuring out when articles of clothing need to come off." When in doubt, give your actors a place where they feel comfortable.

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

Give the Note

Instead of trying to trick your actors into doing what you what them to do by means of some exercise (without explaining the purpose of the exercise) why not just give them the note?

The actor/director relationship is one that has to be based in trust. If you have a long history of working with someone, you can skip to whatever the shorthand formula between the two of you is - do this exercise here, insert this tool over there. However, if you're new to an actor and you try to skip over the "getting to know you phase" and go directly to "I'm going to get you to do exactly what I want you to do", I start to feel manipulated. And defensive. Which isn't where any of us do our best work. I begin to sense that you want something from me but you're not telling me what that something is. Trying to figure out how to deliver what someone wants is hard enough when they tell you what they want. It feels near to impossible when they don't tell you.

Sharing is great. It's amazing when you can pool the brilliance and experience of all the minds on your team to crack open the story. However, springing an exercise on your actors by saying "this is what we're going to do today" isn't sharing. It's dictating. And explaining why you dictated something after you've dictated it, doesn't mean you didn't dictate it. It means you want people to excuse your dictating because you think it was such a good idea. And it might be a GREAT idea. But I'm much more likely to feel like I've been shoved around and I can't have a open conversation with you.

Time is always short in any rehearsal process. And your shortcut may well be the fastest way to get to your desired result. But the fastest solution isn't often the most lasting solution. Taking the time to build solid, respectful relationships will have a significantly greater payout in the long-term.

Give the note. Give up a little bit of control. Recognize that we both have training and tools and tricks. We're both creative. We're both problem solvers. At the end of the process, I'm the one who has to embody the choices we've made. If I can get there in a way that I'm comfortable with, in a way that makes sense to me, that's an excellent solution for both of us - you have what you envisioned and I feel valuable for being able to give it to you (and I feel comfortable doing it). Value the way I might add to the process. If I get stuck, then, please, by all means, offer up your exercise and together we can figure it out.

Or at least have the conversation. Beforehand. It doesn't have to be long and involved. It can be as simple as "Hey, I'm looking to get more of a feel for such and such in this scene. Would you mind if we tried this to see if we can find more of that?"There's nothing worse than not having any idea why you're doing an exercise. Will some people fall into what you want them to discover? Sure. But monkey's with typewriters will eventually make words. Rather that leaving it up to fate, why not just fill everyone in on what it's all about and let everyone get as much as they possibly can out of it.

Talley's Folly

This post is inspired by Roundabout's recent production of Talley's Folly. A reminder that these show specific posts are not necessarily meant to be a review in the traditional sense. Rather, they are meant to speak to what I think the key elements needed to make that piece really hum - a perspective that I think is much easier to attain when you're just sitting in the audience. So, here we go...

This might possibly be my most favorite play. Ever. The humor, the ferociousness, the boathouse. I love it and I can't wait to work on it one day. These are my thoughts...

- Sweet Tooth. This is an incredibly sweet play. And the pieces fit together perfectly. As such, I think it's important to make sure it doesn't get too sweet. I think this can be done (or helped) by allowing the salty parts to be salty. Which is to say, allow the arguments to be real arguments. These two people are stubborn and afraid, both of which are excellent qualities to build quick tempers. The arguments are the only conflict in the play. Let them rip. With in the first few pages of the script Matt says, "Sally, one of us had better go for a walk and cool off. Both of us can't be angry."...which makes more sense if one or both of them are angry at this early point in the story. Ultimately, I think the whole play is an argument. It's an argument that's happening in the right way (both parties stay engaged in the discussion, neither one stonewalls the other) and for the right reasons, but they are fighting against each other (or for each other, in Matt's case) right up until they're able to see they're actually on the same side. If this couple is really going to make it, they need to have the argument out. Plus, what's more satisfying than love that's overcome a huge obstacle?

- Eggs. Matt's speech about how we are all eggs is the crux of the play. Nobody wants to be cracked. While Matt has come for the sole purpose of cracking himself open to Sally, this is not in any way easy for him. If anything it has a sort of suicidal/sacrificial feeling to it. He is terrified to expose himself in this way. This is the only thing that MIGHT win him the only girl he loves. And there is a distinct possibility that once she knows about who he is, that she will want nothing to do with him. If there were anything else he could do to win Sally - ANYTHING else - he would do that. But nothing else will do and he's driving himself bonkers with how much he loves her. Sally, on the other hand, is fighting tooth and nail to keep Matt from cracking her shell. She is certain that if he were to know her full history that he would shun her. She wants desperately to bury how much she loves Matt. It's only by burying any trace of that that she can continue living in the safety of her own shell.

 - Him. Matt should be lovable, but not without darkness. He chooses to live on the side of lightness, but he has both sides. He's become a clown out of necessity. But in order to really appreciate the need behind that reflex, we have to see the mask drop. It might only happen once (in fact, it probably shouldn't happen much more than once), but it has to happen. Humor is an attempt to distract or diffuse tension. But he's got to get real (and vulnerable) at some point if he's going to get Sally to take him seriously.

- Her. Sally is a hellfire. She may have once been the golden child who would continue the family business, but I would wager that she was never a wallflower. As Matt says about her, "Boy, you get angry, you really are a mountain daughter aren't you." Additionally, by the time we meet her, she has nothing left to lose. If she wasn't already, she's become quite the rebel - getting fired from Sunday school for endorsing unionization and intentionally bringing Matt home for dinner as way of trying to show her family how narrow minded they are. She's also something of a caged animal with regard to this situation. Matt is systematically stripping away reasons she's used to keep him at bay. What she feels for him is tremendous and she violently wants not to feel it. She can avoid (she thinks) being humiliated and heartbroken if she can just fight him off.

- Pedal to the Medal. Both of these characters are super smart and seldom at a loss for words. Like a fencing match, each statement is to defend, deflect, attack or egg on the opposition. And at any point it's conceivable that Sally could walk out and leave. As such, the pace can be pretty fast. If there's a pause, it can't allow her walk out. Similarly, with Matt's Probable Lit speech, I think the pace needs to be pretty brisk. This is something that he can't linger in. If he lingers in it, he risks getting really emotional about it. Which it not the idea. I'll grant that he may have to be figuring out how he's going to say it as he's going along (since he's never voiced this out loud) but he can't slow down with it. What he wants to do is convey the information, but stay out of the experience of reliving it. And to get it over with as fast as possible. He knows Sally has a story to tell (according to Aunt Lottie). He knows he'll have to play his cards before she shows hers. He has to say "this is the whole, entire, ugly deal with me", before he can demand the whole deal from her. I think if he slows down in telling this story (or is too clear in telling it), that makes it look a little calculated. It makes it look like "I'm telling you this story because I actually already know your whole deal and we're more perfect for each other than you know - and I've known it for months - and I'm just waiting for you to get with the program." Instead of "Jesus Christ, this is a mad leap of faith and I have NO IDEA what will happen after I vomit all of this information at you."

- Details. In the first couple of pages, Matt says, "Actually, I came here to talk to your father. That's the way I've been told these things are done in the South." To which Sally responds, "You're not in the South. You're in the Midwest." And then continues
talking about the differences between the South and the Midwest. I think in order for the dialogue to continue on as scripted, Sally can't actually hear the first part of his line. She can hear "in the South" which cues her indignation at being called a Southern. But I don't think she can hear much of the rest. If she hears it, she'll know explicitly why he came. There will immediately need to be a whole other conversation. I don't think she fully knows why he's come until much later when he says that he's been meaning to talk to her about changing her name.