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When Sabrina and I walk into class, a thick blanket of tension seems to have taken over the room. The only sound is that of shuffling paper as everyone intently studies their monologues in silence. Mindy and Molly retreat to different corners of the room, lips moving silently as they run their lines. They are so joined at the hip, this is the furthest apart I’ve ever seen them.
It’s week three of session two and I’m thriving on the challenge of acting so much, it would be accurate to say I love it. When I took drama in high school, insecurities got the better of me. I worried too much about what the popular kids would think of me to get anything out of it, but it feels different this time around.
Cold reading went okay. Last week, just when I thought my performances showed improvement, I bombed out on my TV commercial. I love food, so it seemed logical that I’d be most convincing at getting people to buy Mama Mia’s Pizza from the frozen food aisle of their nearest grocery store. I think all that crazy improvisation stuff we did in the beginning got the jitters out so I didn’t feel nervous. Earl told us we should pretend like we’re talking to a friend, so I pictured Sarah in my head and told her about this amazing pizza that comes from the freezer section but tastes like homemade.
He didn’t say anything at first. He rubbed his chin between his thumb and index finger with his right hand while his left hand sat on his hip the way he does, and just when I thought he wasn’t going to say anything at all, he yelled, “No, no, no! It’s all wrong. How do you expect me to believe you when you bob your head around like a nervous chicken? I’m supposed to believe in you. Make me believe in you or else don’t even bother to get up on stage.”
Apparently monologues are super important for actors. Every actor should have one or two in their back pocket, ready to use at any time for an audition, especially when trying to land an agent. We haven’t gotten into the business side yet, but monologues are so important for kick starting an acting career, it’s sort of like our final exam. We have five excruciating minutes to tell a story with dialogue, facial expression, tone of voice, and body language. How excruciating probably depends on how hard Earl is staring us down, and nobody wants to make a fool of themselves in front of him. He’s a local casting director here in San Diego, and he knows talent when he sees it.
Speak of the Devil, Earl walks in a few minutes later and stalks to the front of the room with a look of anticipation in his eyes. Everything he says is either very loud or very quiet. He’s so intense, Janine panicked and wanted to quit after our first class, but we convinced her to stick it out.
“I’m just here for personal enrichment,” she said to Earl, but you can’t tell him you don’t want to be a famous actor in Hollywood.
If you’re in his class, then you’re there to become an actor and you will be treated accordingly. Everyone takes their seats as he stands silently, arms crossed, one hand stroking his chin, staring us down like a caged animal hopped up on energy drinks. We’re his prey, and he’s chomping at the bit to see what we came up with—ready to pounce all over it.
He clasps his hands together and asks for volunteers to go first. Everyone looks around the room discreetly out of the corner of their eyes, hoping someone else will be brave. “If no one volunteers, I’ll have to volunteer someone myself.” There are no takers and I hold my breath as Earl announces who will go first. “Mindy, front and center,” he says and takes a seat in the front row. Her eyes go round and she slowly uncrosses her long lean legs, reluctantly standing up. “No, no, no. We do not use our sides,” Earl yells, shaking his head at her. “You are all better than that now!”
She turns around, leaving her script on the chair. Molly, ever the supportive friend regardless of her second fiddle status, gives her an encouraging smile. Molly works twice as hard as Mindy for equal or better results, and it’s very clear that Mindy expects to succeed while Molly hopes to keep up. They insist they are the best of friends and want nothing more than to see the other succeed, but I don’t see how their friendship could avoid conflict, even if just a tiny bit, when they’ve been competing against each other for dance titles since they were six; especially when one of them always wins out over the other.
Mindy stands in the center of the stage on the big white X in the center of the spotlight and transforms herself into another person as she launches into her monologue. I’m totally drawn in by her performance and only silence fills the room when she’s finished. I can’t believe this is her first acting class. I take a deep breath, praying I’m not next. Who wants to follow a performance like that? Mindy waits for feedback. We swivel our heads towards Earl, wondering if he could possibly find fault with that incredible performance. If he does, we already know we’re doomed.
He narrows his eyes for a moment before speaking, quietly this time so Mindy has to strain to hear him. “Your sense of movement and body language was right on. I need you to project a little bit more from your eyes. Get more feeling behind those words and the emotion will burst through your eyes and out of your pores. Good job.” Mindy smiles and a small sigh escapes her lips. No yelling. She’s basically knocked it out of the park, and is on her way to being a triple threat. Almost as if realizing he forgot to yell, he bellows, “But you can do better,” as Mindy exits the stage. My heart skips a beat when he announces without warning that I’m next.
What? He’s not even going to ask for volunteers again? I close my eyes for a moment. I want to do well. I want to be good at this so badly. Please, please for once, let me be good at something. As I make my way towards the daunting X, my shoe catches on the apron leading up to the stage. My body lurches forward. Good job Alexis—nice way to start. When I turn around to face the class, I’m already burning with embarrassment before I’ve spoken a word. Pressing my hands against my sides to still them from shaking, I speak the first line of my dramatic monologue.
I figured the more emotion the monologue required, the more I might be able to get into it and the better I might do. Or the alternative; I could fail miserably. But when I chose a dark piece, I was hoping for the former. “I never expected it to turn out this way,” I say in a small, sad voice. “This was never my intent and I need you to believe me when I say that.” I shake my head emphatically pleading with an imaginary person. “If you tell, my life is over. You know that, right?”
I focus on emotion not lines. I’m not ‘big’ like I was asked to be for commercials. My tone and affect is quiet and still. I don’t rush words, and remember to down play the entire scene to allow empathy for my character to shine through. I miss a word or two here and there, but it doesn’t rattle me. Nobody can tell.
By the time I utter the last line, my eyes are welling up and a tear threatens to spill over. My normal reaction would be to wipe it away before anyone can see it. I see it as a weakness, but I know the girl I’m becoming in this scene wouldn’t be afraid to express vulnerability and wear her heart on her sleeve. She’d let that tear slip down her face and hold her chin up high with pride as it curves around her cheek and drips onto her neck. I let the tear fall, so lost in the moment, I stand silently in a reverie of thought.
Earl yells, “Yes, yes!” and paces back and forth in front of me with his arms flailing about in the air, eyes bugging out.
I’m done. I finished my monologue without even noticing.
“You committed to the character! You let the emotion behind the words dictate your response. That is what we must do. That is how you act. Acting is not acting at all, don’t you see? You, my dear, are an actor,” he says to me and I feel an immediate shift in the room.
Tessa shoots daggers at me with her eyes, and Sabrina stares at me with an impressed look on her face. Mindy and Molly exchange quick glances. They have emerged as the class stars, but not even they have received praise this high from Earl. Nobody expected me to be that good, least of all myself.
Lightning bolts of excitement ripple just beneath the surface of my skin and I want to do backflips down the long hallway outside the door, but I restrain myself because class is still in session and I’m not entirely sure I can still do them.
Earl decides to ask for volunteers again, but no one steps up. Could it be that no one wants to have to go after me? Earl orders Tessa up to the stage. The first few lines of her dramatic monologue seem forced. Once again, she’s clearly trying too hard to be good and Earl tells her so.
“You are so much better than that!” he yells, shaking his fists in the air. “Let go and commit to your character! You walk into an agent’s office with that hog wash and they’ll laugh you right out of the room!”
Tessa’s nods her head, face falling.
We’re getting ready to go over on time, but Earl wants us to watch the play backs, which is always excruciating because I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing my face on camera or hearing what my voice really sounds like. So far, we haven’t ever gotten out of class on time because the more he has to yell at us, the longer we stay. Karen, the sister and chauffer, sighs and fidgets her crossed leg even faster than normal, but it doesn’t bother me in the least because I’m getting my money’s worth.
Lying in bed that night, I don’t know how I’m going to peel myself out of bed tomorrow morning, but I don’t care because I’m still riding high on the thrill of my successful monologue. I’m too wired to sleep. I keep replaying the scene from class over and over in my head, reliving how it felt to let words and the emotions behind them transform me in such a heart stirring way, remembering how it felt to be good. Maybe I was meant to take twenty-five years to figure out what I’m good at, and landed in the unlikely place of Chloe Dillon Modeling and Acting Center for a reason. You, my dear, are an actor. That’s what he said. Would Earl Warren say something like that if he didn’t mean it?
