You Can Act on Camera Page 7

  D.W. Brown: When I talk to actors about this, I’ll tell them that, in the same way a cinematographer can’t rush their work so it’s out of focus and unusable, an actor has to take the time they need to do a proper job, or they aren’t really fulfilling their obligation. Although, it’s easy to talk about all this, but, as you know, when you’re actually in some of these environments it can be very, very pressurized and those great intentions can go out the window.

  Michael Rymer: It’s an extremely difficult environment at times to be fully present and fully able to bring your best stuff. I guess that’s true of many professions really, whether it’s an athlete or a chef, you could be the calmest person in the world, but you have to deliver under pressure and that’s it. There’s no substitute for experience, of course. The more you’ve done and the more you been through it, having the experience of TV where it’s very often rushed. It’s your fluidity that enables you to get to that place where you have that confidence. Even if you’re nervous and feeling the pressure you have enough experience to know that you can get it out and that causes you to relax. Having said all this about experience, though, still, that youthful thing can burn very brightly in a beautiful way.

  D.W. Brown: Oh, no doubt. And an actor being economical in the way they use themselves can become a canned, airless performance.

  Michael Rymer: Absolutely. There’s actually a whole other skill that I’m just starting to grasp. Watching how these experienced actors do things, like they’ll take their glasses off or take a sip of the glass and they’re very specific about where they do it. And it occurred to me not too long ago that in doing it in that way they were forcing the cut. They know we have to show them doing this bit of business otherwise the continuity will be off with the cup going in and out of their hands, but they pick the spot in the scene they think is the key moment that needs to be on camera and that’s where they put their little arabesque in order to make sure that this particular footage is used. And, by the way, I don’t think there’s necessarily anything wrong with it.

  WILLIAM MAPOTHER INTERVIEW

  Actor (Another Earth, Born on the Fourth of July, Mission Impossible II).

  D.W. Brown: What are the most important factors of an effective performance on camera?

  William Mapother: Relaxation. Being present in the moment. Intention. Being absolutely truthful, because the audience is not in the back of a large theater, but right in front of you as the camera and the mike.

  D.W. Brown: What kinds of things hurt a performance on camera?

  William Mapother: Pushing. Faking. The camera is so close and sees everything.

  D.W. Brown: Can you speak to the ways in which an actor should consider and be influenced by the editor’s job with respect to their performance.

  William Mapother: This is a complicated issue with several aspects. For one thing, if the editor is good, you can trust him. Unfortunately, it’s usually tough for an actor to know if an editor is good, unless you know his previous work, because actors usually don’t see an editor’s work until after shooting is completed. And sometimes it doesn’t even help if the editor is good, because even a good editor might not, or can’t, choose an actor’s best take because of other issues. For example, it was a bad take for the camera, or a line was done improperly by another actor in your two shot. If an actor limits the variety of his performance because he fears an editor will pick a bad take, he’s also potentially limiting his own ability to react in the moment, because he’s keeping watch over himself. Not trusting the editor usually also means that the actor isn’t trusting the director, because he usually supervises and approves the editor’s work. So, restricting the variety of choices the editor receives means restricting the choices the director receives, which can mean refusing to take direction while shooting and all the implications that has. In general, I try to give a wide a variety of takes, but all within the character’s ballpark. This allows the editor and director the best opportunity to craft my character’s arc over the movie. That freedom is important in postproduction, because of unforeseeable circumstances. For instance, an entire scene is cut, which means they have to compensate with material from other scenes. I’ve learned to accept that it’s part of the filmmaking process and the actor influences only a small slice of that process. I came to that acceptance after an experience on the TV show Lost. My character Ethan had been kicking everyone’s butt, and we were shooting the episode in which Ethan is beaten up by Jack, then shot and killed. In order to justify how Jack could beat him, we shot a scene in which Ethan first gets stabbed in the leg and wounded. So, when we see Ethan later in the episode, of course I played it with a limp. No problem, right? Well, in postproduction they cut the knife-in-the-leg scene, so when we see the kind of super-human Ethan in the jungle, he’s limping for no reason, as if he twisted his super-human ankle on a root or something. That’s when I really came to accept the limitations of our best efforts.

  PETER MACNICOL INTERVIEW

  Actor, (Ally McBeal, Emmy Outstanding Supporting Actor; Sophie’s Choice; Battleship) director, writer.

  D.W. Brown: How much should an actor be influenced by the job of the editor in their performance?

  Peter MacNicol: Well, helping the editor is helping yourself. You want the cutter to have the highest number of good takes on you as possible. If you limit the editor’s choices, by mismatching your actions or not syncing up emotionally from one size to another, then you harm yourself. They will have to cut around what might have been your best take or best moment within a take because you sat down on the wrong line, or your anger was subdued on the medium shot but boiling-hot on the close-up. Matching action is one of those tools one learns along the way. You want to give the editor a surfeit of possibilities and trust, really trust, that they will bend over backwards to put your best performance in their assembly. Having said all this, I sympathize with actors, and I’ve known many, who express indifference or impatience with the continuity department. These actors would rather be spontaneous than correct. Then there are those veteran actors I’ve worked with who find physical matching so oppressive they sedulously avoid making any extraneous movements. They will sit stoically at dinner scenes, take one bite on their opening line or drink one sip of “wine” and that’s it, they then settle back into stillness, no dabbing of their lips with their napkin, no crossing of their arms, no gestures period and no matching action issues either. I’ve never been that actor. I’d rather mismatch and look alive. Let’s face it, the editor is scouring the dailies for reactions, visual interest, you know, basic signs of life. We’re making moving pictures after all. I’d rather be a presence worth cutting back to than the man not eating, not drinking, not living.

  D.W. Brown: Aside from acting skills, what are the most important traits that will make a director or producer want to hire you again?

  Peter MacNicol: A director wants to remember an actor as someone who did the job professionally, on time, and ready to work. They want someone who brings light and life to the party instead of moodiness and need. They want an actor who treats the entire crew with respect. They want an actor who knows his lines to the point of finding more in those words than even the writer did. They want actors to be prepared, but not inflexible. Directors appreciate our passion and our advocacy for our parts. But when advocacy turns to annoying self-interest, we leave lasting negative impressions. Directors are the busiest people on the set with ceaselessly churning minds. Their time is precious. So if an actor raises a problem with the director, that actor should also propose a solution. The world is full of actors, but fewer directors. It’s a hard job to get and a harder job to keep getting. Those that got it fought for it. Now that they have it, they want to be allowed to do it.

  D.W. Brown: What do you do when you disagree with your director?

  Peter MacNicol: This is a hard one. Artistic differences do arise. Sometimes a director’s suggestions sit awkwardly with us, and it feels like when we implement them we’re playing the
director’s notes instead of playing our character. It feels like tissue rejection after an unsuccessful transplant, the direction seems grafted on to us. When we can’t bend the director to our way of seeing or feeling the scene, it’s vital that we not let our pride get pulled into the discussion. That’s always a bad idea. This is a time for making fewer points, not more points. Look, the truth is, there’s no perfect solution to these encounters, but there is one workable approach and it’s this: I always feel that the director owes me my own “try” at it. And when I feel I’ve given it my best shot, I will let him make his adjustment. But I need the director’s adjustment to make more than just intellectual sense to me. I also need it to make “emotional” sense; if I can’t feel the rightness of the note, I can’t play it, period. And if I try and fail, then I haven’t pleased anybody, me, the director, the audience, but the failure is all mine to live with. Having said this, I want to stress that I try my level-best to pull off whatever it is that my director is asking of me once they’ve filmed me doing it my way. Do I risk them not using my takes? Yes, but after all, this is a collaborative medium. As I said, this a hard question. There are times, mercifully rare in my experience, where it becomes clear to me that the director and I really see things fundamentally differently. These experiences are among the most challenging an actor can face. You don’t want to resist your bosses and get fired or be branded “difficult.” Neither do you want to fail in the part and leave behind lasting negative impressions with the director, the producers, the writers, even the casting director. On these occasions, anger and panic can sit just below the surface. The temptation to quit rises up. At this point you have two options before you. You can give in to the director’s vision or stick to your own. It’s high stakes poker either way. I’ve done both and, if I’m being honest, neither feels satisfying.

  D.W. Brown: How do you deal with the nerves?

  Peter MacNicol: Well, for me, I try and keep foremost in my mind that acting is more than the intersection of commerce and art. Yes, it’s both of those, but it’s also one thing more, it’s “playtime.” To be precise, acting is that game we played as kids, dress up! It’s very easy for children to play, but sometimes very hard for adults, unless those adults can somehow manage to summon up the inner child to do their playing for them. Granted, it’s a game where mistakes cost money, but the child doesn’t think about that. Nor can we when we’re acting. We must do as they do on the playground, shed our punishing self-editors and give way to this managed madness that is our profession, where we paint our faces, dress up and cavort around in plywood rooms with three walls and no ceilings. And because it’s taken me a lifetime to learn all this, I can add one more thing about “the game.” On the actor’s playground, the “kids” having the most fun are the ones who come out on top for they are the loosest and the most in tune with the enchanted land of the subconscious where ideas grow on trees. Whereas the actors working so carefully and cautiously to get everything right are often the losers. Why? Because fear of making mistakes kills the fun, tightens the body, freezes the imagination, and ruins the game.

  GREGG CHAMPION INTERVIEW

  Director (The Cowboy Way; Short Time; Miracle Run), producer.

  D.W. Brown: What kind of things do you like from actors?

  Gregg Champion: I like actors to ask questions. I like them to ask how they might approach the role. This way I get a sense for how they might be thinking about their part. You know, every actor has such a different approach. Maybe they’re a stage actor, like Dianne Weise. I was very excited to work with her, and she was very prepared for her character, but she wanted me to tell her where to walk and where to stand and I realized that that was her background in coming from the stage. She really liked to be told where to stand and where to move. But there are actors who can be very different about that, actors who really like free range.

  D.W. Brown: Yes, there are actors who can resent being told too much how to move.

  Gregg Champion: Yes. Every person has a key to what their particular security might be in terms of approaching a role and so I love it when they have a lot of questions. Not all directors feel that way, I know, so an actor may have to feel that out, but I want to know what they’re interested in developing. A lot of times an actor won’t see the entire arc of the film. They see it in perhaps a more narrow particular way. What I really hope for with an actor is that they are engaged, that they’ve thought some things through. Whether it’s what the character might wear, how they might behave in a certain circumstance, something contextual, or maybe a back story that isn’t even in the script. I worked with Ellen Burstyn who is a wonderful actress. And she had about twenty questions for me which had nothing to do immediately with the script, but these things really informed how she approached the role.

  D.W. Brown: If you were to try to articulate what makes someone powerful on screen, what would you say that is?

  Gregg Champion: It’s the quality of the person. Gravitas. It has to do with a certain presence, a restraint in the performance. When I think of the guys like Robert Redford, Steve McQueen, Paul Newman, they didn’t have to say that much because it was in their presence. It was in their bearing. They never overplayed anything. A lot of the greats, if anything, they’re always understated.

  D.W. Brown: A level of trust.

  Gregg Champion: Yes, exactly.

  D.W. Brown: How much do you think actors should be aware of continuity?

  Gregg Champion: Well, in a lot of comedy, I think actors are served to just mostly let it all go, to just do their thing. On the other hand, with other kinds of material, that can be a problem. I was working on a movie called Stakeout with Aidan Quinn, and he was a very method kind of actor, a great fan of Marlon Brando and James Dean and he emulated their work. One day Aidan, myself, and John Badham were going to lunch and we walked by the cutting room, which was right next to the stage, and the great editor Tom Rolf was working there, a very crusty guy, and he yelled out “Aidan, get in here!” And we walked in and we stood there and Rolf read Aidan the riot act. He said, “Nothing matches! I can’t cut any of this together. You’re doing one kind of value here and something totally different over here.” And Aidan stood there stunned. And he said, “Oh, my God. I thought matching was just having the glass in the right hand or not. I didn’t know I needed to match my performance. That explains it! That explains why my good stuff doesn’t show up in the movies I do.” It was like this big epiphany for him.

  D.W. Brown: What kind of atmosphere do you like on the set?

  Gregg Champion: I particular like a very calm set. I like to know what’s going on and be in touch with everything. But I know directors who like a very chaotic set. It’s just a matter of choice and it’s not always the choice of the director either, of course. Some actors can have a hard time in television where time is very short. It’s always a rush and you get very few takes. You might only get two or three takes in television. I think what’s important, in the whole process, is to learn to love the imperfections. That there will be this human element. And I think what’s most important politically is that people feel listened to.

  MIMI LEDER INTERVIEW

  Director (ER, Emmy for Best Director twice; Deep Impact; The Peacemaker), producer.

  D.W. Brown: There are times when you can be working under a tremendous time pressure. Can you speak to how an actor can best deal with that pressure of the ticking clock?

  Mimi Leder: It’s your job to come in there and bring it. I’ve had times when I’m shooting an all-nighter and the sun is coming up and it’s going to ruin the shot, and it’s like, “OK, Baby, it’s now or never. Let’s get it.” There are times when you have to tell the actor, “This is it. We just have to get it done.” And the actor has to trust that it’s going to be all right.

  D.W. Brown: They can’t let themselves get tormented over the fact that it’s not being done the way they thought it was going to be done, and in doing that, cut themselves off from what can be done.


  Mimi Leder: Exactly. And sometimes, the result is even better because it is spontaneous and isn’t so thought out. If something is thought out, I don’t ever want to see that. Sometimes an actor can get too “in their head.”

  D.W. Brown: This can be a real challenge, though, can’t it? When under pressure we tend to go into our heads and try and work it out, but that cuts you off from the spirit, which is the thing you’re really trying to capture on camera.

  Mimi Leder: Right. Well, you just have to keep the spirit close to your heart. Even in the time crunch and with all the pressure. Always keep your eye on what the scene is about.

  D.W. Brown: You’ve worked with some great actors, Mimi. What would you say makes them distinct?

  Mimi Leder: I would say what’s distinct about great actors is that they are really smart. And, what’s very interesting to me is there are some actors who aren’t necessarily extremely intelligent in, say, their IQ level, but they can come off brilliant when they’re acting. I think it’s their connection to the truth. Their ability to deeply tell the truth through their character.

  PETER CORNWELL INTERVIEW

  Director (The Haunting in Connecticut, Mercy, Hemlock Grove [TV]).

  D.W. Brown: Most of your stuff has been in the thriller or horror genre. What aspect of acting is most important for a performer working in that genre?