In Performance Read online

  Finally, many of these playwrights you love and admire get hired to write, produce, and run television shows. Whether in New York or L.A., you will come across a writer who has moved to the film industry for any number of reasons. You will find, I bet, their heart still remains in the theater, and they will love to hear you are a fan of that work.

  2. You’ll come across monologues that aren’t right for you at this point in your life but can be put on the shelf and pulled out again when you’re in your late twenties, early thirties, or even sixties. Yes, people in their fifties and sixties still audition, no matter who or where they are. The work, if you’re lucky, never ends.

  3. When you read these plays and watch TV shows and films, you’re researching. You’re finding out which actors are getting cast in the parts you want to play. Follow their careers. This is how you begin to track and define your “type.” This is how you learn what parts are out there for you.

  The actress Saidah Arrika Ekulona (you don’t know who she is? Google her. It’s your job) spoke to my students last year and said, “Don’t worry about so much about your type. Don’t obsess about it. Somebody, somewhere is ready to put you in a box, so why should you do it for yourself?” I wholeheartedly agree—and disagree—with her! Here’s where I agree: of course you must believe you can do anything, play any part. You need to constantly raise the bar for yourself so that you have goals to achieve. Just because you’re the “ingénue” or “the leading man” doesn’t mean you can’t also find the humor, sexuality, and hunger in those roles. You need to find the complexities and polarities in every role you play. People are complicated, and therefore so are characters.

  However, you also need to keep in mind that this is a business. And people in business want to know how you’re marketable. So if you have a list of actors who are doing the things you know how to do, playing the parts you know you can play, you are armed with information that’s going to help you market yourself. Don’t think of defining your type as a “box.” It’s not. It’s a marketing strategy.

  It may sound like a cliché, but knowledge is power. And your knowledge of these plays, writers, and fellow actors is your weapon. Put it to use.

  4. Films and TV are fair game when searching for material. However, you want to stay away from material that would be considered “iconic.” Avoid characters that are firmly ingrained in our popular culture. Shows like Sex and the City or Friends have great writing, but that writing became more and more tailored for the specific actors playing those roles as the seasons progressed. It is difficult to approach that material without hearing the voices of those actors in our heads. So enjoy those shows, but don’t use them, even if your type is a Carrie, a Joey, a Chandler, or a Charlotte.

  5. Sometimes you’ll find a character that you really like but who doesn’t have a stand-alone monologue in the play. You’ll be tempted to cut and paste the lines together until you form it into something that seems complete. I caution you away from this. Although some of the pieces in this book have been edited, there has been no major cutting and rearranging. Any edits to the following monologues consisted mainly of stage directions or brief responses by the other characters in the scene that did not interrupt the flow of thought on the part of the character delivering the monologue. Some of these pieces, such as Lisa Kron’s Well, are part of longer monologues. There have been no internal cuts or edits within the presented monologues. I find that it destroys the author’s intent. You’re crafting a piece into something it wasn’t meant to be. Look at something else by this writer. Or search for a similar character in another play. Your “type” work will come in handy here. The actor who played this role was also in what other plays? This writer has also written what other plays?

  6. Once you’ve chosen a monologue from this book (or from a play or film), please read the entire work. Then read it again. Then—read it again. Although you will ultimately be performing the piece out of context, you can act it only if you can make sense of the context in which it was written.

  Preparing the Monologue

  1. Read the entire play.

  2. Read the entire play again.

  3. Read it one more time.

  4. Although you will have been very tempted to do so, do NOT read the monologue out loud yet. You’ve read the play a few times now, and you’re beginning to, consciously or unconsciously, realize the intention of the piece in the whole.

  I want you to think about the play as a whole, first, by asking these questions:

  Is this a dramatic or a comedic monologue?

  This is a tough question. I find that most good monologues walk the line between the two, putting them firmly in the “seriocomic” category. A comedic monologue is not always about landing a joke. A comedic monologue shows that you can handle material that is light and playful while still playing a strong objective. A dramatic monologue tackles more serious issues, events, and emotions. Be careful that your dramatic monologue doesn’t dissolve into you screaming and/or crying in the direction of the auditioner. This is NOT a sign that you can act. If you’re crying and screaming, then you are most likely not playing toward an objective while using strong actions.

  In life, we rarely get what we want when we scream or cry at people. It’s no different in acting.

  What are some of the major themes of the play?

  It is often easiest to define your character’s objective by wording it to include the main themes or images in the play.

  Themes are the major ideas or topics of the play, together with the writer’s point of view on these topics.

  What does the title of the play mean?

  The author’s intention or point of view is often most clearly defined in the title of the play. Thinking about it might also lead you to define the main theme of the work, as just discussed.

  Who is the main character in the play?

  Whose story is it? What is their journey? If you’re performing a monologue of the main character, how does the piece affect their progression? If you’re performing a piece from a supporting character, how does it assist or impede the main character’s journey?

  The main character is the person who takes the biggest journey over the course of the play. Your monologue is one of the following: (1) The person on that journey; (2) a person helping the main character on that journey; (3) a person creating an obstacle to the main character achieving their goal.

  What is your objective?

  This question is twofold, because I’m asking you to define your objective for both the play and the monologue. You need to define what this character wants throughout the entire play, from the moment he or she steps onto the stage. Then you need to define how this two-minute (or so) piece fits into the whole.

  An objective is a SIMPLE, ACTIVE, POSITIVE statement that defines the journey your character is on.

  It is in defining an objective that most young actors tend to hinder their performance. You never want to define your objective in the following ways: (1) I want “to BE something,” or (2) I want “to FEEL something.” These are passive, inactive statements in which you will not make any forward progression. Emotion does play a role in acting, but not when it comes to defining an objective.

  Instead I want you to define it in very vivid, active words that inspire you and spark your imagination. This is where your knowledge of the entire play and the character you are creating comes into action.

  Begin by thinking in very primal terms. Objectives should hold life-or-death stakes. Companionship, shelter, protection, nourishment, sex, fight, flight.

  “I want to hold my family together” is a very strong objective.

  “I want to make someone love me” is another.

  However, I challenge you to take it a step further. In a play like Jailbait by Deirdre O’Connor, which is represented later in this book, you might say something like “I want to break out of th
e cage that confines me” so that you use the language of the play in order to define your objective. Or if you’re working on Kirsten Greenidge’s Milk Like Sugar, you might say, “I want to taste the sweetest, most expensive milk I can find.” The more vividly you can paint the objective, especially by using words and images from the play itself, the better.

  Play your objective with the belief that you’re going to WIN! Play positive choices.

  What are the beats and actions?

  A beat is a transition: a change in thought, action, subject, or tactic.

  Actions are active verbs that define what you are doing in any particular moment. Meaning, you attach an active verb to every line of text: to sway, to punish, to defend, to challenge, and so on.

  Actions become your roadmap, your markers. If you’re a musician, think of them as musical notes. The note is written there, but it’s up to you to color it, make it your own, and endow it with meaning. Engage your own unique point of view to make it personal. However, every new action does not necessarily mean you’ve come to a beat change. Feel it out instinctively.

  When it feels like there is a shift, there most likely is. That is your beat. Are you accomplishing what you want? Are you winning? If not, it’s time to shift your tactic.

  Have you been playing the same tactic over and over and not achieved your goal? It’s time to shift your tactic.

  You cannot consciously play these objectives, beats, actions, and tactics, but you must rehearse with them in mind so that you can internalize them. Once they’ve become internalized, they will play themselves. It’s a form of muscle memory.

  Check in with your (imaginary) scene partner. Make sure your actions are landing.

  Playing actions helps in two areas: it helps you do more than play the “mood” of the piece. Mood is established in the arc of the storytelling, not in the way you say the lines. Mood is also established in how you’re relating to the other person: are you winning, or losing? Secondly, playing actions will help you not play the end of the monologue at the beginning. If the monologue ends in death, you don’t want us to know that when you start. Take us there without letting us know we’re going to get there.

  When I was working as the assistant director of Martin McDonagh’s Broadway production of A Behanding in Spokane, John Crowley, the director, would sit at the table with the actors every afternoon after lunch and make them assign actions to every line of text. We did this for weeks. It is oftentimes very frustrating, but it lets you know where you’re going. It forces you into specificity. And if any particular action doesn’t seem to work for you, throw it out and try another! That is why actors rehearse.

  Right now you’re asking yourself why you need to do all of this work. Let’s go back to the words that opened this book: Actors are storytellers, and the best stories are those told with specificity. Think of this monologue as a smaller story inside a larger one. You need to understand the larger story the playwright is telling in order to tell this shorter story. You need to know the details in order to bring them to life.

  The greater your understanding of the piece as a whole, the better your ability to interpret it.

  Remember, people rarely expect to speak in monologue form. Have an expectation of how you think your (unseen) partner may react. This is part of a conversation, and your partner is letting you speak for quite a bit of time, or you are not letting them get a word in. Don’t approach it as a monologue; approach it as dialogue. Expect your scene partner to cut you off. Your expectation is key to why you go on for some two minutes. Pay attention to and play with your partner. Oftentimes this expectation of interruption will help you bring a sense of urgency to the piece.

  Inevitably, you will be performing these monologues for someone who knows the play. You want your acting of the monologue to be consistent with the tone, theme, and style of the play as well as the character’s objective within it. You can’t take a monologue from Macbeth, for example, and mine it for high comic potential. You’ll look foolish, and the casting director will assume you don’t know what you’re doing.

  Who is your character?

  Once you’ve answered all of the above questions, it’s time to start putting this person into your body.

  1. What do they look like?

  2. How do they dress?

  3. How do they stand?

  4. Where is their center of gravity?

  5. How do they take up space?

  6. What’s their posture?

  7. Where does their voice sit (i.e., head, throat, chest, diaphragm, etc.)?

  8. Where do they hold tension?

  9. How do they walk, sit, and stand?

  It’s up to you to find this person in your body, experiment with them. Holding on to what you know about them from the script, and your very strong objective, you’ll be able to find physicality for them through your knowledge of them.

  Whom is the character talking to?

  These are monologues, but you need to have a very specific picture of WHOM you are talking to, because it plays directly into WHY you are talking (your objective). Some of these monologues are to a specific person, or persons; some were written as audience address. You still need to decide to whom, specifically, it is directed and have a clear image of that person.

  Place that person somewhere in the room with you. You should never perform your monologue directly to the person for whom you are auditioning unless they ask. You can place them, in your imagination, to the left or the right and a little in front of that person. You can place them behind that person and a little above their head. You can place them closer to you, to your immediate left, right, or center. However, make sure that they’re not so close that you are forced to look down while you deliver your monologue. We need to see your face.

  Now that you’ve placed your “acting partner” somewhere, you need to imagine what it is they look like.

  1. What are they wearing?

  2. Are they sitting, or standing?

  3. What is your relationship to them?

  4. What do you need from them (this ties in to your objective)?

  5. How is delivering this monologue bringing you closer to achieving your goal?

  6. By the end of the monologue, did you win? Did you get what you wanted? Are you closer or further away from achieving you goal?

  What’s so urgent?

  Younger actors often lack a sense of urgency. Remember, your character is dealing with life-and-death stakes! Remember that acting occurs on the lines, not in between them. Try to express what you’re feeling by coloring a word or a phrase with your point of view while maintaining the flow of the line. Act ON the line not AROUND it. Tie your thoughts together without breaking the line apart in pieces in an attempt to highlight certain words. The line is your thought and your action: present it completely. Try not to add moments, beats, unexpressed thoughts, and feelings in between the lines. It’s not necessary. Use what the playwright has given you.

  Emotional Connection

  Up until now I have hardly mentioned feelings, emotions, or emoting. You must, of course, have a strong emotional connection to the monologue you choose. Your connection may grow or dissipate when you complete the work outlined above. Sometimes the more you discover about a play, or a character, the further it feels from your initial response. If this is the case, and you can’t reclaim that initial spark, then move on to something else. You can always find another piece.

  Conversely, your initial response to the monologue might be only so-so until you do more work on it, finding yourself truly enlivened and engaged by it. In that case, take it and run.

  Acting is not about emoting. Young actors tend to find pieces with very high emotional stakes that often require crying or screaming in order to accomplish the storytelling. Please shy away from these. We want to see that you are connected to the material and that you kno
w how to control your emotional life. We do not want to have your emotions unleashed upon us in a flood that you cannot contain. Therefore, a monologue that occurs at the climax of a play is probably best left performed in the context of the show.

  Stay true to yourself and, in doing the work just outlined, you will stay true to the piece.

  Finally, it’s time for you to put all of the pieces together. You have all the elements of the story, and now you need to get from point A, to point B, to point C. This takes a long rehearsal process. It means experimenting with all of these elements. If something does not work, throw it away and try something else. If something seems to maybe, kind of work, hold on to it and experiment inside of that. Try doing the entire piece in a whisper and see what you learn. Try doing it at the top of your voice in a public place and see what you discover. Experiment and take risks with how you rehearse it and you might find something you never knew was there.

  I strongly urge you NOT to practice these monologues in front of a mirror. It will only make you feel self-conscious, and you will put your focus and energy into how you look while you do it rather than into what you are DOING. Instead, practice it in front of friends and family. Practice achieving your objective on them. Practice your actions on them.

  You have created a roadmap, but that doesn’t mean you can’t take side trips. Your objective is in mind; now try a roundabout way of getting there. Remember, these are called “plays,” and you should, in fact, play. Have fun.

  In Performance

  You are ready to perform the monologue in public. Here are a few quick tips for the audition room:

  1. Arrive early. At least fifteen minutes before your appointment time. You need this time to unclutter your mind, focus yourself, and relax.

  2. When your name is called, close your eyes and take a deep breath in and out. Find your center.

  3. Take as few of your personal items into the room as necessary. Try not to bring in your jacket, your bag, your purse, your gym clothes, and so on. Gentlemen, please take phones, keys, and loose change out of your front pockets; do not interrupt the natural line of your body.