Friday, 22 July 2011

James Lipton will have to interview someone else this week…

Salutations, sweat-soaked masses:

   The recent spate of sweltering heat that has descended upon most of North America has sent me into seclusion in the less-Hades-like environment of the Fortress of Funitude. My little prologue to this latest posting having been duly posted by Carrier pigeon (the capitalization is not a typo…the F. of F. is cooled by birds who learned some of the tricks of the climate control trade by living in a disused air conditioner factory, and have trained themselves to beat their wings in round-the-clock shifts), I leave the rest to Sparky, who has been assisting Mr. and Mrs. Cousins with their rehearsals for The Best Audience Ever (it’s less than a month to opening night, Indianapolis Fringe Festival patrons—familiarize yourselves with the route from Mass Ave. to the Cook Theater).
Uncle Fun
Howdy, junkies’a thespianism:

In my capassity as a assistant stage manidger fer Mister an’ Missus Kuzzens (there ain’t no ackchewal stage manidger, but they dint wanna overburden me with too much r’sponsibilutty…“I despair of the prospects” wuz th’ exact words used), I’ve bin inishyatud inta some’a th’ myst’ries’a th’ theeatrickul art. Most of it’s still about as clear as mud at midnight durin’ an eclipse, but real-live theetur-type actin’ mostly seems ta hafta do with three things basickully.
Th’ first’a these is sumpin’ called “motivashun”. This I get somewhat. Back in th’ day, it wuz easy ta figger a actor’s motivashun. Bein’ a actor increased yer chances’a marryin’ Elizibuth Taylur.
Take that, Stanislavsky.

Now that boat has sailed acrost th’ River’a Sticks, it ain’t so cut an’ dried. B’tween you, me, an’ th’ doorpost, I find all this “motivashun” stuff confusin’. Actors allus gotta know why it is ya did anything, even b’fore ya done it. Most times, I dunno I DONE somethin’ ‘til after I done it, much less why. Even when someone else explains it ta me, th’ explunashun don’t allus stick inside my head fer long. All’s I’m really sure about alla this here is one thing: turns out what ya don’t wanna explain yer motivashun with if yer a real live actin’-type actor is by sayin’ “cuz it got a laff”. Seems ta work fer th’ audeeyunce okay most times, but I’ve bin told in no uncertun terms that’s b’side th’ point. Like f’rinstance, it’s a real no-no ta use gettin’ laffs as motivashun in yer hi-class dramas, like fer exampull in yer Shakespeer sillyillaquees, most’a which’d go over a lot better if ya opened ‘em with a joke er two.
A kangaroo hops into a bar, and says to the bartender, “Is this a dagger I see before me?”
The bartender says, “Don’t confuse me with YOUR hallucinations; I’m imagining I’m looking at a kangaroo right now.”
Now, ain’t that better, honestly?
But, as if motivashun ain’t enuf ta make yer head spin, a lotta what goes inta actin’ in real live theetur plays with talkin’ an’ everythin’ is all wrapped up in what’s called “emoshunal mem’ry”. Basickully, this means ya gotta be able ta remember on cue th’ saddest ever really sad thing that ya remember bein’ sad about. In th’ case’a actors, it’s usually th’ first time they found out there ain’t no money in actin’ nohow fer most’a them. Apparently, in theetur, they allus wancha ta be sad fer some reezin. Guess happy people don’t take up actin’ in th’ first place. Er mebbe they jus’ figger they ain’t gonna be happy long, when they find out how tough it is ta make a livin’ at it.
Now, if ya kin manage ta keep yer motivashun an yer emoshunal mem’ry frum trippin’ over one another, ya still got another thing ta worry ‘bout when ya act, which is sumpin’ called “makin’ it true”. Turns out “true” is diffrunt if yer a actor than it is fer everyone else, ‘cuz yer “truth” involves pretendin’ ta be someone else, who’s prob’ly a made-up unreal fickhunal someone else ta boot. What actors really mean when they talk ‘bout bein’ “true” is “bein true ta th’ moment”. This one is atchilly easy ta unnerstand, if ya know any actors whatsoever. All ya hafta do is use yer emoshunal mem’ry an’ imagine askin’ a actor ta do sumpin’ fer ya when ya really need it, such as ta lend ya five bucks er ta move some heavy furnichur. Whutcha find out is th’ truth’a th’ moment when they promis’d ta lend ya th’ five bucks er move th’ furnichur is a whole other diffurn’t kinda truth altogether frum the truth’a th’ moment when it’s time fer ‘em ta do it.
So that’s all I’ve learnt so far about how ta be a actor, so I prolly ain’t ready fer Broadway fer at least another year. Mebbe I’ll go be a playwright instead…it looks a whole lot easier. All ya gotta do is know all th’ stuff that actors hate ta do, an’ make ‘em do it.
Sparky
P.S. If ya click th’ link an’ lissen, you’ll get a rough idea’a whut doin’ a rehursull with Mister Kuzzens is sorta like:


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