“When I was a kid, performing was pure fun, but somewhere along the line it turned into work.”
– a quote ‘spoken’ by one of the students in An Acrobat of the Heart, Stephen Wangh
On the drive home from acting class, a colleague and I started talking about acting and life. “The weird thing about acting” I said “is that you can work as hard as you want, but if you don’t know how to live, you won’t be able to act.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I agree with that.”
And we proceeded to share stories about how our acting training had actually helped us grow as people in very significant ways. Learning how to act had made us braver, more conscious of our internal lives, and more willing to “say I love you first” (quoting Brene Brown).
But money – the pressure to earn money – seems to contradict this desire to live, play, and explore. Those things don’t feel worthy of money. Relaxation, especially, doesn’t feel worthy of money. Stress, busyness, pressure and strenuous work – those things do feel worthy. No pain, no gain. Right?
As kids, we’re not worried about making money, and so life is freedom. Life is bedtimes that come too early and time that feels like a luxurious roller coaster in the way it carries us from morning to night. As an adult, I don’t feel like that. I’m conscious of my need to earn, but the soundtrack of “am I good enough” plays on repeat between my ears, and the roller coaster that thrilled me as a child scares me now. I feel like I should be looking for comfort, but I crave spontaneity and uncertainty. I worry that any anxiety or stage fright that manifests in my body as the roller coaster climbs the hill is ‘wrong’ somehow, or that the thrill of winning, of throwing my arms up in surrendered joy and feeling the momentum blow my hair in the wind, is ‘not me.’
What a curious thing to wonder.
In acting, as in life, our characters must have opinions. Clear opinions about what is happening to them, and why they do or do not like it. They must know what they want, and go after those things with intention. They must see and react to their world in an alive and very specific way. A character that grips us is one who is not afraid of being themselves – regardless of if that means you hate them sometimes. How often do you actually live that way in your own life? I know I don’t often – which is probably why I find it so terrifying to be specific in my work.
As kids we talk in high, loud, and sometimes obnoxious voices. We jump off shit. We take insane risks. We dig for worms and build snow forts to live in for an afternoon. We colour so far outside the lines it appears as though the lines are invisible to us. And they sort of are.
I walked by a soccer practice near my house recently. The students: kids. What I observed: a complete freedom to fail. Balls were going everywhere. Kids were tripping over their own two feet. The actions demoed were rarely done right, and no one cared. No one was beating themselves up. They were actually failing with confidence. “I’ll get it eventually” seemed to be the feel, and there was no stress to do it right now. They were just playing.
Apparently kids learn faster than adults… but I think that maybe they’re just less distracted. They fail better than we do. They’re more willing to add new skills to their lives because they’re less concerned with identity and what they can and cannot do. They’re allowed to live and grow and change, and so they do.
A couple of weeks ago, my therapist suggested
that I try verbing my life.
When you verb a script, you’re essentially giving yourself actions to play. You’re giving yourself actions to try as you attempt to get what you want. ‘Acting exercises are borrowed from life’ my therapist reminded me, so what would happen if you actually brought what you were learning in class into your life.
Acting is learning how to live, right?
And it occurred to me that there were certain action verbs that I routinely played in my life, and others that I didn’t. There were a lot of actions that felt scary, or incredibly unlike me.
Unclear on what an action is? Here are some examples:
Battle, challenge, animate, arouse, awaken, electrify, inspire, inspirit, strengthen, rattle, conquer, astonish, astound, baffle, defeat, flip, sling, surprise, bewitch, involve, match, obliterate, qualify, test, trample, probe, slam, soothe, lighten, provoke, shock, toast, trumpet, gouge, seduce, enchant, thwart, rescue, unchain.
So, I have a challenge for myself and you.
Play. Try out some of these verbs in your life, and experiment with them in how you complete a task. Maybe choose 5 words. This coming week, at some point, I will use the actions ‘to test’, ‘to animate’, ‘to soothe’, ‘to flip’, and ‘to arouse.’
These words will mean something different to all of us, because we all have our own opinions, inner worlds, and blocks. Some of the actions, like trumpet or obliterate, might feel like nonsense until you arrive at a situation where it makes sense to use them.
And for God’s sake. Let’s please not worry about being ‘good people’ or doing the right thing. In class, the ‘actor’ is essentially learning how to live in a way that is neither polite nor agreeable. It’s actually often infuriating to watch an incredible performance. We live and relate to one another in such a cautious and realistic way in ‘real’ life. I, personally, could use a really good fight once and awhile.