Sunday, January 23, 2011
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Directing the Actor
Little has been written on the pivotal relationship between the actor and the director. We regularly hear about combative rehearsal periods where actors feels disenfranchised while the director feels frustrated at being incapable of making the actor understand. There has been nothing written on the actual experience of actor and director when they are in conflict.
Many rehearsal periods have been hijacked due to an assumption of understanding when none existed? At this point, the actors start talking among themselves and the creative process usually unravels. There is a prevalent opinion that a negative hierarchy exists between actor and director. Actors feel that the director has the upper hand, because (s)he apparently knows what (s)he “wants” and the actor doesn't. There is also a presumption that the one who “doesn't know” is in a weaker position.
The creative process begins as a vision in the mind of the Director. Then it moves and is taken into the mind of the Actor. To let the Actor take that vision and create the images on the screen that once only existed in the mind of the Director. That creative freedom. Always allows the Actor to do so much more than what ever was ever expected or anticipated of them in advance. We whp make films know this creativity as "magic moments." They have been in every film I've made and they always will be. The freedom to put that bit of "magic" that couldn't possibly be there prior to shooting. Except, for the fact of the Actor's abilities to have all that creative freedom and all that creative force to work openly and feel totally unrestricted so that anything is possible.
“Directors don’t know how to talk with actors”.
Well, which director and which actor are we talking about, since they are all different? This is a sweeping statement. If it is true in some cases, we can address the question, “how can the director learn to communicate constructively? Interestingly, we didn’t hear from directors that actors don’t know how to talk with them. That is not part of the framework for the directors we asked.
“I have to protect myself from directors.”
What are they protecting themselves from? Do they know it’s true with the director they are in communication with? Directors have not volunteered that they need to protect themselves from actors.
2. Generalised Directing:
Here are some generalised notes from a director to an actor:
“You need more edge.” “Could you play higher stakes in the second act?” “You need to be louder.” These generalised directions often cause an actor to seize up. An actor in this state needs to sort out the specifics on his own. This becomes a problem when there are two different ideas of what “edge, higher stakes, or louder” mean. The actor does one thing but it is not what the director thought they were asking for. There is a leap of assumption that the actor had understood, but the director does not enquire as to how the actor understood the direction. Confusion inevitably arises. “I thought that’s what I was doing.”
3. Directors’ questions that are often voiced yet rarely fully explored
“How can I make the actor do what I want?”
This is a common question. It is posed without the input of the actor. To be able to explore this question right in the middle of rehearsal gives an insight into intentions, communication and collaboration. Two people are involved with the intention as related to the text, instead of the actor “doing” the director’s vision.
“How can I be sure to have a happy and comfortable rehearsal atmosphere?”
Can one be sure? Is it even possible that every show will have this ideal? If there are tools to meet incompatibilities constructively, does it matter?
“What are the conditions that allow for an in depth exploration of the text, unfettered by unspoken questions, fears and judgments?”
This is an invaluable question and is the underpinning of our research. It requires each director to ask the question and take the time to find out for themselves out of their actual experience.
4. Assumptions Based on Hierarchy:
The following are fixed ideas that sustain the impression of the negative hierarchy in the theatre:
“I won’t be hired again if I’m not good.” “I can’t ask question in case he thinks I’m stupid or being difficult.” “It’s the director's show.”
When caught in these thoughts, the actor is not free to ask questions or explore his ideas about the text. He finds himself with less information than he needs, and does his best to satisfy his director under these less than ideal conditions.
5. Struggles:
“I need to be director proof.”
Many actors express the need to be “director proof” yet they are still having struggles working with directors. But how many variations of “director proof” are out there? And how does this affect a director?
“I don’t get to explore my idea. I have no chance to show the director what I mean.”
When a new idea is introduced, it can take a bit of time for it to integrate. When a director gives little time for an actor to integrate the idea it can cause the actor unnecessary and frustrating reactions.
Often the excuse is given that there is not enough time. However, if the time is taken to understand how quickly an idea can be integrated (usually three or four times), then a director can use his own informed criteria for how long he will allow something to be explored. Here’s one director’s approach to exploring the actor/director relationship:
“I've thought about it a lot over the years, but mostly not very constructively, as most of the thinking was from within the context of trying to win some sort of struggle that had developed between me and whoever.”
6. Unfinished sentences:
“The key is trust.”
Trust in what, trust in whom? What do you mean by trust? Are the director’s criteria and the actor’s criteria for trust the same? Each person has their own criteria for what “trusting someone” means. A director trying to gain the trust of an actor is battling on delicate ground if he doesn’t know what the actor’s criteria are for trusting his director.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
The Color Palette For "Trois Couleurs" Trilogy
Dissimilar from Bleu, Bialy (“White,” in Polish) begins with a different kind of crash, one that is erratic and frustrating. The main character, Karol the champion hairdresser suffers through divorce proceedings with his beautiful, blonde, French wife Dominique after which he loses his home, his assets, and the woman he loves. After his tragic loss, he maneuvers through a series of comedic and peculiar tactics, all for the purpose of getting even with his ex-wife. As white symbolizes equality in the three colors of the French flag, Karol spends the bulk of the film plotting revenge upon his ex-wife Dominique Vidal. In short, equality to him means ‘getting even.’
Death and rebirth play manifest symbolic roles in the film, but not too heavily. Yet, White does feature other symbolic moments, such as another old lady trying to stuff a bottle into a recycling bin, just as in Blue. Karol smiles at her struggles whereas Julie was oblivious to them. Whereas Blue makes use of literal blackouts at moments of Julie’s confronting her past, White has some whiteouts.
White is about equality, or again what we think represents such thing. Karol goes beyond that; his selfishness doesn't make him realize what pain he's causing to his wife. His will for equality, or rather REVENGE, totally blinds him and almost erases the love for his wife. This topic might be something useful to compare to every group in this society, looking to be "equal", but in actuality wanting something more than that.
Red
In Red, the audience watches Valentine and Auguste through a series of peeps into their apartments and onto the street that separates them. They do not even suspect how their lives will eventually intersect. But the viewer, or rather the voyeur, knows that somehow they will come together. It takes the involvement of books dropped in the middle of the street, a collision with a German Shepherd, a spying judge, an unfaithful girlfriend, and a ferry in the English Channel to finally link the two main characters who are already neighbors living in Geneva. Red is about fraternity, and how fate can totally change the life of a person. Our neighbor could be the biggest love in our life, but we are so concerned with our own routine we might never meet them. We also might meet a person 40 years older that represents everything we've been looking for, but then refuse to more forward in the relationship because of barriers.
Red is very much about connections, both obvious and invisible. Indeed, the film begins with the camera "going inside" of phone lines to follow the transmission of a phone call, connecting one person to another via wires. Kieslowski also explores unseen connections, such as music that both Valentine and Auguste listen to and the parallels between the judge and Auguste's lives. Perhaps Kieslowski suggests that this conceptualization of fraternity connects people, whether they see it or not, and Valentine represents the ideal of fraternity, acknowledging that connection through her actions.
While Polish cinematographer Piotr Sobocinski's beautiful photography is peppered with rich, beautiful reds, the color imagery of Red seems less specific than that of White or Blue. I do not intend to insinuate that Kieslowski's choices of red objects were not deliberate, however his use of the color seems less reserved. Red saturates the palette of this film in a way not seen in the trilogy's previous entries, but the color does retain its association with fraternity. For example, Valentine wears an item of red clothing when she visits the judge and the dog's collar is also red. But the color is more pervasive and less obvious in its representation of fraternity, which perhaps underscores the idea that Kieslowski suggests fraternity connects people in ways both seen and unseen.
Red is the culmination of the trilogy, both in message and literally in the conclusion. From the beginning, the film emphasizes chance, transportation, and communication through a series of images of telephone wires, repeated locations, and cars on the street. In this piece, Kieslowski uses so many red objects and so much symbolism that it is impossible to miss the meaning of the emblematic, even fetishistic, imagery.
In its entirety, Trois Couleurs employs the use of at least 190 blue, white, and red objects. In number, the red and white objects are more prevalent—one wonders if this was the intention of Kieslowski. Overall, Kieslowski employs all three films to draw attention to the importance of interconnectedness and equality. Additionally, it is important to consider the colors of the Polish and Swiss flags.Poland’s flag consists of two equal stripes of white and red while the Swiss flag is red with a white cross at the center. Counting each color equally in each the French, Polish, and Swiss Flag.



















