Actions
"In order to perform an action truthfully—and therefore convincingly—an actor needs to find exactly the right action to suit that particular situation and that particular line."
—Marina Caldarone and Maggie Lloyd-Williams
Acting is doing combined with emotion. Human beings do what we do because of how we feel. That's why I've repeatedly recommended that you begin your crafting of a scene by determining the feeling you must generate to reveal the character's truth. That feeling should—and will—dictate your choice of action in every beat of the scene. Never forget, every single action must be demonstrated by physical behavior. It is not effective to name an action—even an intention inside a character—that cannot be seen by the camera.
Every action has an inherent point of view. An action is not something that's thought up or invented. It is determined by looking closely at the clues you found in the script pertaining to people, places, things, and events. Once you understand the truth of the moment from your character's P.O.V., you then select actions. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what you call an action just as long as you know what it is.
There are a lot of actors who know how to act competently. The trouble is that there are not as many actors who know what to act. Choice of action does not come from what you say. Acting has little to do with talking. Stick with behavior. If an action cannot be shown, then it's not real to the viewer. Every action must be physically expressed.
You also need to trust that pursuing one action is enough. The road to hell is the idea "I've got to do more." One of the problems inherent to being an actor is that you have too much information—much more than you normally would about the people and events taking place in your real life. You have to stay rooted in the present reality of the scene. Do not aim to foreshadow knowledge that your character does not yet possess. That is the character's future, so it is unknown. Don't try to play the whole scene at once, or the whole film or TV episode; rather, figure out what action you are doing right now.
What Is a Beat?
For the purposes of the on-camera audition the definition of a beat is this: When you are doing one thing (an action) one way (an emotion) for one reason (an event) in order to get what you want (that which you want the reader to understand about you). This defines how you play a beat.
A beat covers the space of one thought and one action. Don't try to do two things on the same beat. Be simple. Trust your choices. Play your scene one beat at a time.
Also don't take on the burden of trying to make a lousy script good by complicating your actions. There are plenty of poor scripts out there. Just deal with the reality of the situation. If the script is rotten, aim for clarity rather than complexity. Act a cliché.
The duration of a beat may be short or long depending on the script. A beat is simply the length of time you pursue the same action in order to get what you want overall. In film and TV, scenes are one or two beats at most with rare exceptions. Beats generally change only because of something the object of your attention says or does, or because you discover new information from some other source.
Finding Your Actions
In looking for elements of behavior, for the actions to play, begin by asking, "What would this situation be like for me?" Break down your character's actions in the script. Human beings are always feeling something. This emotion is always the result of an event that either has occurred in the past or that we anticipate will occur in the future. The past could be just a minute ago. The future could be just a minute ahead. Because of this event causing us to feel a certain way, we do something in order to get what we want. Use the same action until you are forced to change it by what occurs in the script.
Your action is not merely to express the character's emotion. There are always reasons to be emotional. Know those reasons, and then use them to define your series of actions. Know your objective in the scene, which is only ever one thing. This is so even in scenes where there are several actions that move you toward your goal. The action always comes from the script, out of the relationship and what you want.
What are you doing (your action)? Example, "I'm putting my foot down." This action underlies everything you do and say until your character cannot pursue it any longer.
In acting, you work from the verb that best describes what you're doing in regards to the other person. Possible actions are verbs like:
Tease
Threaten
Seduce
Dismiss
Admit
Recall
An action can be a byproduct of a social dictate. Therefore, when you're doing character work, always remember that people are what they do. For instance, a magazine editor corrects. A judge, judges. A lawyer negotiates, argues, or persuades. Socially dictated actions will always fall into the range of possibilities for your character.
In The Good Wife (CBS), for instance, Juliana Margulies' attorney character often waits, whereas Chris Noth's politician character typically seduces. In Dexter (Showtime), Michael C. Hall's serial killer character calculates, plots, and plans. In The Big C (Showtime), Oliver Platt's estranged husband character begs and appeases. In Breaking Bad (AMC), Bryan Cranston's chemistry teacher-turned-methamphetamine dealer character solves. In Damages (FX/Audience Network), Glenn Close's high-powered attorney character congratulates herself over her power.
The action verb becomes informative or entertaining through how you do it. There are a lot of different ways for your character to threaten or beg or admit. You can discover those particular ways during your crafting process by daydreaming and humanizing.
To find your actions, don't worry so much about the actual lines. Just free associate and improvise around how your character is feeling and you'll naturally understand what the character is doing. This practice will connect you to the reality of the story. You can begin by taking the point of view of the title you've given to the scene.
Let's say the title of your scene was "Never Again." Your humanizing would sound like: "I am so pissed off at her. I cannot believe she said that to me. How dare she?! I am going to teach her a lesson when I see her. I am going to tell her off and, in no uncertain terms, I'm going to set her straight that she can never again speak to me that way." The reason your actions are "teach her a lesson," "tell her off," and "set her straight" is that you want her to understand that you are not going to stand for this anymore. Please notice that all of the chosen actions had to do with the reader and what you want her to understand.
For preparation right before an audition, you can humanize your dialogue in the same manner while you're in the waiting room—being particularly mindful to reiterate and reinforce the actions. Whenever you rehearse, it's a good practice to do things bigger than normal. This will help you to anchor your specific choices in your muscle memory.
Never pantomime an action. When a physical action that requires a prop, like lighting a cigarette, is described in the script, don't fake that action. Miming robs your actions of their truthfulness on camera. Instead stay focused on the reader, as that's the direction in which the camera is located, and do the action that moves your character toward the fulfillment of the question "What do I want this person to understand about me?"
When a script gives you an intricate activity to do while dialoguing, such as putting coins in a snack machine or mixing chemicals in a laboratory—something that in the actual filming would require your character's intent focus—it means that while you're doing this physical action you are supposed to throw away the dialogue, to just spit it out. In an audition room, it is, of course, not possible to do such an action, nonetheless you must say the lines in an offhand manner to show the producers that you understand what's happening at that moment in the script. Blow through it so you can get back to the next, more central emotional action that involves the reader.
The Crucial First Moment
You must be immersed in the reality of the scene when the scene starts. Auditions are frequently won or lost in the first moment. It's critical to craft this moment specifically. If you don't know the object of your behavior and what you want this person to understand about you, your boat is going to be dead in the water from the start. The first moment depends on the given circumstances. Those are non-negotiable.
Everything I train actors to do is to get you ready for the first moment: Sherlock Holmesing the text; clichés; expletives; personal reasons to feel as you do about people, places, things, and events in the script; physical and vocal adjustments; social dictates—these are all essential for taking off with a roaring start in the first moment. If you get that first moment down pat, then the rest of the scene is just making the beat changes where they're called for, and talking and listening to the reader.
When you go to your audition, talk to the producers like human beings. If a script says sit, sit. If it says stand, stand. If there is a chair in the audition room and the script says to first stand and then sit, ask if the camera will follow you on that particular line. This is information you need so that you will remain in focus as the camera follows you. Keep things simple so sitting down or standing up is part of the action you are playing. Actors must move for a reason. If you can avoid sitting down or standing up in the middle of your scene, it keeps things lean and simple.
For auditions, avoid entrances at all costs. An entrance is really an exit from someplace else. You can achieve the same vitality as if you had just walked even though you're already there. My proof of this is the fact that quadriplegics can act. Christopher Reeves acted very well in the 1998 remake of Rear Window after he'd had the horseback riding accident that paralyzed him.
In a film or television scene, an entrance is the way that your character comes from a place where something specific has happened to the only place that he or she could come to accomplish a specific goal. The scene takes place here because of what happened in the other place. An exit is exactly the opposite. Because of what has just happened in this place (the scene) your character is going to the only place he or she could go right then.
Watch Michael Douglas's performance in the 1994 thriller Disclosure, directed by Barry Levinson, to see how specific entrances and exits can be. Many times he walks in and out of his character's office. Each time he enters or exits, Douglas does it a little bit differently because of what has just happened.
Also watch Alan Rickman's entrances and exits in the 1995 film Sense and Sensibility, directed by Ang Lee. His character, Colonel Christopher Brandon, repeatedly comes to visit Marianne Dashwood (played by Kate Winslet), each time arriving and departing in a distinct way depending on what has just happened.
A Beat Alone
If the reader has the first line of dialogue, then you are having what I term a "beat alone." This becomes the first moment of your scene. On a beat alone, you have three choices of action, as follows.
Choice 1: Praying. (Really pray)
Choice 2: Figuring out. Figure out what kind of makeup you would put on the reader (work off of the person in front of you so that your action can be captured on camera) or add up the ages of the members of your family. Specificity reads in an actor's behavior and facial expressions
Choice 3: Recalling. (Try to hear the sound of your door closing or the sound of your heart beating)
For the sake of clarity, do not try to combine these three choices. Pick one option off the menu of options and do it wholeheartedly. Do it for real.
Jack Nicholson was working on a close-up once for a beat alone and afterwards the director said, "Man, that shot was amazing! What were you doing?" Nicholson replied, "I was counting parking meters." Counting is a truthful action that the audience can see on screen, and will interpret in terms of your character's situation. Another thing you could do besides counting parking meters is to try to recall every telephone number you've had in your lifetime. People will watch what you do, so long as you do something real.
On camera, when the script calls for it, you can reveal that you're engaged in the act of remembering something by listening for a real sound. A way to practice this is by trying to hear the door of your apartment or your house closing—if you know how far away your apartment or house is from where you are seated. A long ago memory is a function of distance. Another option is to replay an actual memory of the sound of a screen door opening in the house where you lived as a child or of a squeaky bicycle wheel you once rode. The farther back in time the memory of a sound you use is, or the further the distance you are away from the sound you are trying to hear, the farther back in time the memory will appear to come from in your scene.
The camera does all of the work for you when you are having a real memory or listening for a real sound, even if it's not exactly parallel to the line of dialogue you're saying or hearing. An actor's job is to go from the general to the specific and from the complex to the simple. So reveal thinking and be thinking, and your audience will entirely believe in your reality.
A beat alone can be any scene where your character is alone. Watch George Clooney's riveting scene where he's seated alone in a taxicab at the end of Michael Clayton (2007). He actually seems to have several different alone beats. You can really see him thinking. It goes on for a couple of minutes, and it's never boring.
In an audition, you may ask the casting director or producer if it's okay to start with the first line of your own dialogue if you do not want to take a beat alone. That first line can serve as your beat alone, even though it's said out loud to someone else.
On companion DVD 2 to this book, you can watch actors demonstrate the three choices described above. Go to: TimPhillipsStudio.com/dvd.
If You Are Given an Adjustment
Let's say you do the scene once. Then the casting director turns to you and says, "Let's do it again, but this time do it with more menace [or fill in the blank]."
The best way to handle an adjustment, if you are given an adjustment of any kind, is simply to change your cliché, expletive, or action. For a stage audition, you would change your action. For film auditions it can be one of these three things. The verb is a choice, an interpretation. The director may have a different vision. He could be interested in how well you handle direction or what different emotional colors would look like coming from you. Or he might not know what he wants.
Keep the rest of the choices you crafted in place and make this one change and you will adjust easily.
The Decisive Last Moment
It's very important for you to do something specific at the end of the scene that demonstrates your character's point of view. Never let them see your energy fade out in an awkward moment where you shift to wondering if someone will say, "Cut." The Phillips' rule is to keep the life of your character going until the camera turns off.
In cases where the reader has the last line of scripted dialogue, you may choose to button up the scene by adlibbing one short line of dialogue. Clichés work well as buttons. If you got what you wanted make it a celebration. If you didn't, show how the character feels and thinks about it. Use the expletive for the reader. Use the title of scene. Just do something behaviorally so that the reader doesn't steal your focus at the end the scene.
Of course, you always want to be doing something for the benefit of the camera. But you also want to be genuinely absorbed in your interaction with the reader. That's why you must ultimately let go, trust that your choices are solid, and live the scene through from beginning to end, talking and listening as if it's the first time it has ever happened. How to talk and listen as an actor is the topic of our next chapter.
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