KNOW a Few Musical Theater DON'TS!

Sample chapter from Stanislavski Never Wore Tap Shoes (Musical Theater Acting Craft). You can find your copy HERE.

Trick Seven

KNOW A Few DON’TS

§  DON’T upstage fellow actors. Don’t always position yourself one to three steps “up” of scene partners (toward the back of the stage.) This is amateurish and irks professional coworkers.

§  DON’T take tiny steps every time you say a line, particularly not upstage. Again, this is the mark of the amateur. Plant your feet, and stand still while speaking or listening.

§  DON’T meander on the musical stage. If you’re going to move, move! Then make your cross, cement yourself in that spot, and listen or speak your lines. Stop milling about.

§  DON’T sigh or exhale and then talk. Like the declarative statement, this habit immediately releases energy from a scene. If you must exhale or sigh, do it ON your line, not before or after. Color your speech with it.

§  For the same reason as above, DON’T slap your thighs with both hands as an acting choice. The only reason Jimmy Durante made this work was because he used it as a rim-shot after a joke. Don’t slap your thighs.

§  DON’T mimic another actor’s energy or movement style. If your scene partner moves about a great deal in a scene, take the separate path. Choose stillness…few do.

§  Unless specifically directed, DON’T use as an acting choice, “I’m not going to listen,” “I don’t really care,” or “my scene partner doesn’t interest me.” Don’t say “no” to onstage opportunity by playing indifferent or bored. Instead, find reasons to be fascinated and riveted to all scene action.

§  DON’T be the last actor off-book. Instead, be the first memorized.

§  DON’T come to rehearsal looking like a bag lady or bum. Don’t wear cargo shorts, ratty tennis shoes and a “Joe’s Pub” T-shirt. Don’t wear flip-flops. Shave, comb your hair and wear something presentable. Producers and creative staffs offer jobs. Their eyes and admiration are drawn to well-dressed professionals, not vagrants.

§  When offered direction, DON’T let your first question be, “Why?” Figuring out why is your job. If after several attempts at the scene you can’t figure it out, then ask.

§  DON’T blather on in rehearsal about your character. Nobody cares about your motivations, acting technique or why your character needs do this and that. If you wish to make a point, talk about the scene or argue direction, state your case and do it concisely. Time is money. Don’t waste it.

§  In rehearsal rooms, DON’T forget to turn off your phone. Must we endure another poignant love scene pierced by someone’s rhumba bell-tone ring?

§  DON’T continually talk about how worried you are that your performance isn’t working, how much your body hurts or how sick you are. We all ache, get sick and are all terrified of being less than brilliant. Welcome to the club. Just hush up about it. You’ll be fine onstage, and soon you’ll get over that cold or sprained ankle.

§  DON’T constantly show up one, two or ten minutes late for rehearsal or half-hour call. If you’re going to be late, even by thirty seconds, call your stage manager!

§  DON’T be frivolous with your body mike and pack. This stuff costs big bucks. Don’t drag it on the ground, get it wet, step on it, cover it with hairspray or goop it up with gel.

§  DON’T warm-up your voice in the dressing room. Nobody wants to hear your arpeggios.

§  DON’T be the actor that adheres to all craft rules but one: “Look to the speaker and don’t move.” Sharing stage, rather than monopolizing it will make you and fellow performers happier, as well as make the play more compelling. From time to time play the straight man (or woman.) There are plenty of laughs to go around. If audiences are not looking at you every second onstage, it doesn’t mean you are dying, or that your career will soon end. The musical theater is a give-and-take medium, so please try giving now and then.

§  At the stage door, DON’T be a jerk to patrons. Be gracious and grateful for their praise and attention. Be charming not standoffish. This is part of your job. Producers expect it of you.

§  At work, DON’T always talk about your career or future career. Pleeeeease?

§  After seeing a show, DON’T go backstage and critique actor performances. You are not welcome backstage unless you can say, “You were wonderful!” That is the ONLY acceptable backstage critique, and must be said to every actor, director, choreographer, composer and writer you meet. NEVER talk to anyone after a show without first commenting positively about his or her night’s work. In other words, lie and lie well. We’re actors, not critics. Practice now, “You were wonderful!”

§  DON’T ignore the lessons in this book. Don’t believe that you alone will change musical theater performance history by offering the world something completely new. Trampling on libretto rules is commonplace. If you wish to be unique, learn the rules and adhere to them. Doing so will make you one of the elite.

Everyone in the theater thanks you for adhering to the above!

Creating a Role: Part III - the Table Read

This is the third installment in an ongoing series of articles about creating a role, namely J.J. Brown in the new revival of The Unsinkable Molly Brown, opening at the Denver Center on September 19th, 2014. If you’d like to start at the beginning, click HERE.

Many years ago, I was a cast as a guest star on a TV pilot. Sit-com gigs always begin with a read. On a Monday morning, the cast sat in a circle at tables. Behind us sat the writers, producers, network executives and other production staff. The reading began, and at most of the right places the room erupted with laughter. As always, the writers laughed loudest, particularly if he or she wrote the joke.

Across from me sat a familiar face, an actress who recently ended a three-year reoccurring role on one of television’s hottest shows. In this new sit-com, she was a regular weekly player cast as the neighbor/best friend of the female lead. Yet while other actors gave best efforts during the read, this actress mumbled her lines. She was barely audible.

After the read was over, actors broke for lunch, while creative types huddled with network execs in a meeting. This is standard first day sit-com procedure. Two hours later, we arrived at the back lot stage to begin rehearsal. There, we were introduced to another actress, one who was not at the morning read. We were then informed she would be taking over the part of the neighbor/best friend. This is not typical sit-com procedure. In less than two hours, producers fired the first actress and hired the second.

Welcome to show business.

If rehearsal days are few, many musical productions dispense with the table read,  The Denver Center Theater Company is a LORT venue (League of Regional Theaters). Our production is blessed with five weeks of rehearsal, a real luxury. If a production does begin with a read, directors often start by saying, “We just want to hear the script. Don’t worry, nobody’s judging your performance.”

Translation: EVERYONE will be judging your performance!

This is why actors at times refrain from going full-out at the initial table read. Some don’t wish to reveal choices before getting a scene on its feet. Others abhor starting off the process by seeming phony. Some just don’t want to crash and burn directly out of the gate. In conservatory, actors are sometimes taught not to “go for it” right off the bat, and instead are encouraged to wait until it feels right in rehearsal. If you don’t try, your effort will not be judged (at least, that’s the theory). While this approach may be artistically viable to some, it comes with a few professional drawbacks. The lack of effort can make producers, writers and directors uneasy. Even on the first day, employers and creative heads can begin to wonder…was casting this actor a mistake?

The first table read of any script serves only one purpose: to hear the play. If actors give little at the read, nobody will be able to hear the natural flow of the piece. This is particularly irksome to the writer, especially if the play has never before been produced. Librettists often write for years before a first production, and no doubt hold great expectations for the first day of production. Although television scribes often present a script as though it were a prodigal and perfect child, playwrights and librettists often begin the process with a critical eye. Even at first read, theater writers already begin editing and refining the text. This becomes difficult or even impossible to do if actors give little at read, or are ill prepared to perform on rehearsal’s first day.

In Moss Hart’s classic theater book Act One, he recounts the first day of rehearsal for Once in a Lifetime, a farce co-written with George S. Kaufman. The actors arrived at work according to theatrical protocol; bit part players wandered in first, then came the supporting cast, and finally, seconds before the hour, the reigning diva made her grand entrance. Mr. Hart dreaded the first read because many actors offer little energy. This was particularly true of the theater stars of the era. Yet on that day, his leading lady gave such a beautifully nuanced performance young Mr. Hart nearly leapt across the table to kiss her!

At the first table read of The Unsinkable Molly Brown, Beth Malone, our show’s leading lady, gave it her all. She began full voice, as if giving an opening night’s performance. She sang her fourteen songs with gusto and nuance. Her line readings were crafted. Like every skilled professional, during the read Beth utilized all the lessons in my book, Stanislavski Never Wore Tap Shoes (Musical Theater Acting Craft). Beth set the tempo, and immediately the rest of us had to sit up straight, and hurl ourselves into the reading with energy and commitment equal to our Molly Brown.

Although director Kathleen Marshall didn’t kiss me after the first read, with a big smile she thanked me for my all-out effort. No doubt she did the same with Beth. Librettist Dick Scanlon, who has been involved with this project for over seven years, sat at the table grinning like a kid on Christmas Day (while also making edits.) Musical director Michael Rafter seemed equally pleased, as did all in the room. It was a good start, and hopefully a good omen for things to come.

If you have the box office drawing power of say, Nathan Lane, you’re allowed to phone-in the first read. You’re not going to be fired, or worry higher-ups you won’t bring the goods on opening night. Yet I’ve worked with Nathan, and from day one he goes full-out. Our medium paints life in broad and vibrant strokes. If you don’t “go for it,” failure is guaranteed not only for you, but also for your scene partners. Why not instead give yourself, fellow actors and the libretto the opportunity to be successful on the first read?

Why not just leap in on day one?

In the upcoming rehearsal process I will make hundreds, even thousands of mistakes. I see no point in delaying this process, one where each trial will produce many, many errors. So, on day one I always bring best efforts. Coworkers will surely judge me at every point of the process. That’s human nature. Yet in the professional musical theater, the harshest judgments are often reserved for those who don’t give their all each and everyday, including the first read. 

As when going for a swim, you can timidly wade into rehearsal, or just dive right in with abandon. I suggest doing the latter.  If you leap on day one, not only will you give the play its best chance to be heard, not only will you gain the appreciation of producers, writers, creative staffs and acting peers, but you will also stand far greater chance of still being employed on the morrow.

Just sayin’…

Burke

Creating a Role: Part II - Reading the Script

This is the second installment in an ongoing series of articles about creating a role, namely J.J. Brown in the new revival of The Unsinkable Molly Brown, opening at the Denver Center on September 19th, 2014. If you’d like to start at the beginning, click HERE.

Most actors begin the process of preparing for auditions and performance from a great disadvantage: they don’t know how to read a script.

When first reading a play, an actor is clueless to storyline or any character specifics. At this juncture, the vast majority of performers have only one option: guess at each and every line reading. Most of these guesses will fall wide of the author’s intent. Much of the play’s drama and comedy will be missed. After reading the first scene of a play, most readers already lag so far behind skilled professionals, they have no chance to catch up. When reading a script, the first hurdle of the acting process, most fall far short of the bare minimum performance standard…

…Do no harm to the play!

There is only one approach to first reading a script: let the words do the work. Means to this end are rudimentary, but few performers know, use or practice these basic techniques. Yet to read a script effectively, you only need to follow one rule (#14), Just say the line!

The Primary Rules of Dialogue

1.  Look to the speaker (or gaze off slightly) and DON’T MOVE when listening. On the rare occasion, react BETWEEN the speaker’s ideas, not on them.

2.   Find HOME (relaxation).

3.   AVOID using declarative line readings (stating facts).

4.   Ask questions on ALL speeches; toss lines up, demand a response.

5.   Pick up your cues!

6.   EARN pauses; take “the air” out of speeches, and before them.

7.   Act ON the line (not before, between or after it.)

8. Deliver speeches “in one,” using one breath. In longer speeches, use catch-breaths to make speeches seem “in one.” Drive toward the main idea at speech’s end, or towards one thought that comes at the end of many lines. Make ONE choice, not many.

9.  Repeat, or use similar subtext questions for as many speeches as possible until “the turn of the scene,” or because repeating questions play against storyline, direction or credibility. Continue to press one idea, one intention until idea’s end.

10. In soliloquy, have a dialogue with your conscience, with God, and/or directly to the audience, adhering to all the rules of dialogue craft.

11.  Use rules to break rules. Make rule breaking the exception, not the rule.

12.  Make strong and specific creative choices. Guess!

13.  Apply to the above the rules of comedic craft.

14.  When you have no acting choice, “Just say the line” using all the rules above.

Following these rules begins the acting process at performance competence: act like a human being, and only explore choices worthy of stage performance. Although different actors use different terms to describe these guidelines, for centuries these rules have proved mandatory when speaking onstage. In the history of the musical medium, no actor has ever given a great, good or even competent libretto performance without consistently adhering to these rules. Even if you possessed the creative brilliance of Meryl Streep, if you don’t consistently follow say, Rule #5 (pick up your cues in dialogue), your stage performance will be dull, if not indulgent. Repeatedly breaking other rules garners equally destructive results. When speaking dialogue in the theater, if you don’t regularly follow the primary rules of dialogue your chances of performance excellence falls to ZERO!

Thus, your acting talent becomes worthless.

When creating a role, establishing character patterns is essential. If in scene after scene you play “deadpan” (without emotion), when your character finally smiles it will mean something! Finding character patterns (traits) is perhaps the main function of the creative acting process. It’s your “Stanislavski.” It’s pretend. No rule will teach you how to make these choices. Character traits and specific moment-to-moment scene choices are guesses. They’re pick ‘ems based on the script, direction and your artistic taste. Here, you must guess, and guess compellingly.

Craft rules add to creative patterns. These guidelines are not guesses, but instead are facts. If players consistently pick up cues, the slightest hesitation before speaking will mean something! If you don’t pick up your cues, these hesitations become meaningless. This is proven. If you don’t stick to the patterns of both character and craft, comedic and dramatic opportunities (surprises) disappear from the text. As each opportunity vanishes, so do your chances of giving a compelling performance.

Although few read well, musical theatre students usually come to the study of acting with a built-in work ethic, because most often they've spent years studying singing and dance. The diligence and disciplines required to learn these crafts are easily adapted to acting. Just step up to the dramatic barre, and begin practicing the notes and steps of dialogue. 

1.)   Read aloud ten minutes everyday. Most actors share the same problem, the written page. If you can read aloud easily and beautifully, stage acting becomes MUCH easier! Like learning the crafts of song or dance, there’s no shortcut to acquiring this skill. Practice is the only path to excellence. If you read aloud everyday for ten minutes, there is a 100% chance you will become a better stage actor. After practice, when casting directors shove you pages at auditions, yours will be one of the few hands not shaking during the read.

2.)   Read LOUDLY (at least sometimes), or often talk loud. Find the “ping,” the placement where with less exertion the voice travels farther. Audiences don’t care how brilliant acting choices are if they can’t hear you.

3.)   Over articulate the words, particularly word and sentence endings; shape and texture words to make them worthy of libretto performance. Practice the art of wordplay, and begin to understand the nuances of punctuation. Great dancers and singers become great because they sing and dance a lot. The same goes for speaking onstage. Start practicing today.

4.)   Memorize the fourteen rules of dialogue craft.

5.)   Learn why these rules are mandatory to stage performance, and why breaking them does great harm to the libretto. Although every actor has been told to follow dialogue rules, few consistently do. Over the years of a career, before audiences and where risk is costly, actors typically begin to realize the importance of craft. Only then do they start to consistently utilize craft into performance, and thus practice. Most actors come to auditions and rehearsals with major gaps in their craft knowledge. I spent a decade in the business before consciously practicing these rules. Yet had I learned the importance of craft at conservatory, I would have entered the business leap-years ahead of my graduating peers. To learn the what, whys and hows of these rules, see my book, Stanislavski Never Wore Tap Shoes (Musical Theater Acting Craft)

6.)  Practice the rules at home, at auditions, during rehearsals and in performance so you can understand the rules, and their paramount importance to stage acting. Without practice, these rules are useless.

7.)   Note the positive results, as well as watch others use these rules to magnificent effect so you will embrace craft. See shows, or watch skilled professionals at rehearsal or from the wings. View silver screen classics, and filmed comedies from the fifties and sixties. These acting styles are much akin to musical performance. Watching Old School masters on film or video is the most cost-effective acting training. Learn from excellence!

8.)   Get more jobs so that you can master the rules.

9.)   Don’t EVER stop learning the rules! Recently, I worked with stage veteran Jeff McCarthy, Tony nominee for Urinetown. One night, as we made our exit, Jeff whispered, “Learn something everyday…act ON the line!” After searching for weeks in rehearsal and performance, he simply stuck to a rule and found the elusive moment (a laugh). Skilled actors don’t just learn the rules and move on. Like veteran dancers at the barre, fine actors continually return to and practice basics. It’s our lifeblood. It’s our solution to so many of acting’s dilemmas. You can’t do without craft, yet many, many try. After well over three decades on the professional stage, Jeff McCarthy is still studying basic craft. Do the same. You’ll never regret it.

*          *          *

Three days ago, I received Dick Scanlan’s rewrite of The Unsinkable Molly Brown. I opened the first page, and read the text by simply following dialogue rules, and using other craft tricks. I picked up my cues and asked questions on every line. I tossed dialogue up. I demanded a response. I acted ON the line, rather than before or between its ideas. I allowed the text to earn pauses. I applied the rules of comedy. I utilized the throwaway, as well as hung and repeated questions. I drove speeches, or a series of speeches through to one thought at line’s end, one main idea. I talked like a real human being. I explored only choices worthy of libretto performance. I allowed the words to do the work, and so the author’s intent unfolded easily and clearly. Atop a foundation of craft, my creativity, my talent was then free to play.

At first read, I want to be swept away by the story, rather than just concentrate on my part. I  read every character with integrity, and try to experience the plight of all. Because Molly is a revival, I bought the album and listened to each song as it arose. Yet many songs in Dick’s script are new and have no recording. So, I just spoke those lyrics using the rules. By read’s end, I had discovered three important things about the new Molly Brown…

1   -This script has few similarities to the original libretto. It’s an entirely new play containing a completely different storyline, along with many new characters and sub-plots. Other than Molly (who is still indomitable), characters bear little resemblance to their originals.

      - Dick Scanlan’s effort is the best rewrite I’ve ever read!

      -I’m DYING to read it again!

After first read, I like to begin the second ASAP. While the story is still fresh in my mind, I want to go back and see how each scene effectively (or ineffectively) drives to play’s conclusion. I want to figure out the nuts and bolts of the writing. I want to see if the story builds naturally, or at times loses its way. I want to find the surprises, and find where surprise is given away prematurely. Why is this scene here? Why does this character say this line at this time? What is the structure of the play, and why is it structured that way? In what manner does my role serve the story? What cog do I play in the greater whole? What are the “traps” of my role, that which I wish to avoid playing?

By third read I’m already guessing, perhaps even knowing the basic character traits of my role; the parameters I will remain within when playing. I’m looking for scripted patterns, as well guessing character consistencies. Breaking these patterns will become the stuff of drama and comedy in performance. At this point of the process, any choice made is speculation and can easily be discarded come rehearsal. Yet after the third read, I’m fairly certain how I’ll approach creating  J.J. Brown.

-Throughout the play, Molly is more than just energetic; she’s an entire fireworks display! Unlike Harv Presnell’s highly energetic and gorgeously sung original portrayal, the rewritten J.J. probably needs to embody stillness. I’m thinking my guy needs to stand his ground, and keep gesticulation to a minimum. “Don’t mimic your scene partner’s energy" is the general rule. Molly chews scenery, moves about, fights, rants and goes on and on. J.J. must be her complimenting opposite.

-J.J. Brown is written with an “Irish temper.” He explodes instantaneously. This plays against the above idea, and so becomes the primary conflict for both actor and character. The trap is to yell all the lines; be angry all the time. The key is to create a pattern that has him continually fighting to keep his temper, rather than searching for places to lose it. This creates the character’s cruising speed, how he will be played most of the time. The more infrequently the pattern is changed, the more powerful it will be when I break that pattern by exploding.

By fourth read, I’m “combing” my part through the text. I’m trying to discern if the choices above, as well as others I find along the way actually fit the scripted dialogue, scene action and best serve story. This tweaking and honing process will continue until the show’s final performance. Other than suggesting a line edit, cut or addition to author and/or director, I don’t write many notes in my script. Other actors write copiously in the margins. When it comes to making script notations or researching a part, whatever serves you best is best approach.

When creating a libretto character, reading a script properly is the first order of business. This initial process immediately separates amateur from skilled professional, and frequently employed from unemployed. Although talent and experience play a great factor in finding scripted nuance, at first read actors of every level are faced with a choice.

Do I guess at all line readings, 

or do I begin the process on a foundation of knowledge using craft?

Few choose the latter, because few know their craft. Acting is tough…very. But it’s a lot easier if you know what the hell you’re doing from the get-go.

Gotta read the script again. I’ll soon start memorizing my lines, but first I have two other projects; a reading tomorrow in NYC, and another reading up in the Berkshires.  So, I now have to start all over using techniques described in this post. Unlike for Molly Brown, these rehearsal schedules are brutally short. Reading aloud before an audience is difficult, but when there's this little rehearsal, it can be terrifying. But, I’ve read this post aloud about twenty times today, and read aloud most everyday. I can read. I’ve done the work. Plus, I have plenty of experience at these types of events. When I don’t have a choice in performance, which will be often, I’ll “Just Say My Lines."


If you’re doing the same, break a leg!

Burke

To continue click here: PART III - The Table Read