Friday, 25 April 2008

Pressure of playing vulnerability

In the new play I'm in, I play a flamboyant character, comfortable through most of the play behind his bravado performance.

But there is one long emotional speech. It comes from nowhere, no build up on stage - just straight into this unselfconscious exposure of his utter vulnerability, like a gaping wound.

I was having such difficulty doing it. I dreaded it. I arrogantly presumed the writing wasn't good enough, or blamed the lack of truth on not having learnt the lines. But really, it was just that I couldn't take the pressure. The blatancy that I wasn't doing it as well as it could be done.

So I kept forcing it harder and harder. Like constipation - desperately trying to get something out but to no avail. No truth came.

And then the assistant director managed to do what this unfortunate, bumbling, insecure writer/director couldn't. She managed to make me relax. To realise that all I needed to do was tell the story. Gently. Calmly. And let the emotion come if and when it comes.

And, of course, it did. Tears started to surface, but I held them back. I had to tell the story. And it felt true. It was no longer painful to do.

Two days later, I somehow went halfway back - gesturing too much, not connecting with the thoughts. The director tried to find a way of getting it back to what it was. The other actors all joined in with their tuppence worth on how to do it - inevitable what with the director not being strong enough.

While they were all talking, I declined suggestions such as "say the speech in your own words - not the characters" and just tried to think of what he wanted to gain from the other characters on each sentence. (Good old intentions and actions!)

Realising that one line could be played as "Shut Up" suddenly opened up the emotions, the need to tell the story. And again it worked truthfully. There was a different tension in the air; I felt vulnerable, but happy to expose myself. When I finished the director stood and flung her arms around me - the very first time she had touched me.

I just hope I'll be able to create the same connection when there's an audience there.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Sounds good, congratulations on your break through.

makes me want to see it. such care and attention and thought you are putting into your work.

if all else fails though in front of an audience try tucking a rusty nail up your bottom to help the tears flow. I keep one in my pocket at all times for situations just like this.

It worked a treat at the queen mother's funeral