i love ira levin... trying to remember the name of the book about the computer that runs the world... and in the end (i know, i'm a spoiler) the characters who escape the reach of the computer get to join the elite who are programming it...
right now what i remember most vividly about 'veronica's room' is seeing it with my brother. i miss my brother right now (he hasn't been speaking with me...). but i'll get all misty eyed if i continue down this avenue of sentimentality. after all, everybody has a heart. except some people.
I haven't read the entire thread, but here's my two cents on the original topic:
True, anyone can act. But not anyone can act well. You used that quote from Ratatouille earlier about how "anyone can cook...". But I'd like to reiterate the full meaning of that statement from the end of the movie: "not everyone CAN become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere."
Emotions are NOT the core of acting. As many a teacher has told me: and actor is supposed to play a character, not play an emotion. If you are inside your character physically and mentally, the emotion will come out of that, not the other way around.
Like anything (sports, cooking, drawing...), some people are naturals, while some people improve and grow greatly from instruction and training. But I do not believe ANYONE is above training. To think you are good enough that any and all training is unnecessary is where EGOs come from.
As far as succeeding career-wise as an actor, that's a different story. Do you need training (or even talent) to succeed as an actor? Certainly not. The american film industry is a testament to that. Drew Barrymore plays the same character in almost every film she's in (hope I didn't offend anyone by saying that), and yet she makes more money in a week than I have in my entire life thus far. Breaking into the buisness as an actor is at least 50% knowing people and being in the right place at the right time.
l love you without knowing how... or when... or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride. I love you because I know no other way than this.
I believe in fate
But it's up to us to follow through
you see, birdie, it's never really about the fleeting comments (the barb, the one-liner), or even about the particular character in whose mouth the words are placed. it's about the 'bigger picture,' if you will. this is why i keep returning to the idea of context - where do the characters, their lines, their attitudes, fit into the jig-sawed picture? what do we do with the pieces we find around us as we make our way down our own sentimental avenues? where will we find ourselves when we fit the next piece into place? and who's going to hand us some jagged gee-gaw we'll have to carry around until its colors match those of some unfamiliar horizon?
a while back i found myself taking Oscar in hand (poor guy, we call him Tweak), because he was lost and upset, trying to understand how his parents could have allowed him to leave home at 14 to live with a sexual predator. we were in Lyon (the birthplace of grand guignol), and had to seek the assistance of the Rhone Maidens to make our escape to Avignon...
it doesn't matter, though where we started out, where I found him. he'll always carry the tattoo on his forearm, the thick black letters spelling out the word, "SLAVE." both of us, birdie, Tweak and I, are beyond redemption, beyond the cycle of life, death, rebirth. our only hope is transcendance... and i often despair of attaining it. oh, i have glimpses of it now and then, and if i'm going to help Tweak compose a conclusion to the dark drama circumstances have written for him i need to appear cheerful about it for his sake... but it's so difficult sometimes not to feel that i'm doomed to play cassandra in this awful, tattered drag... (he stubs out the cigarette in the remains of his cupcake.) Updated On: 7/18/07 at 03:37 AM
that is SO well spoken, Drunky. it all comes together, doesn't it, when the actor is prepared to meet the context without pausing to think, "how do i feel about this?" the character already knows - the playwright is the author of his emotions.
Yes, what if... that's not only the risk we need to take, that's exactly what life is about... what if we write a bad play of it?
bear in mind that no one is going to be amused by every play he sees, no actor will enjoy every role he plays. we mustn't be too critical, we mustn't insist on re-writing every play we don't like, or auditioning for every role, whether we're right for the play or not.
take it 'cum grano salis' -- we need the salt as much as we need the spoonful of sugar.
Updated On: 7/18/07 at 03:55 AM
if you'll allow me to get back into character for moment, and play the role i play for better or worse:
I shall never understand the weird process by which a body with a voice suddenly fancies itself a mind! Just when exactly does an actress decide they're her words she's saying and her thoughts she's expressing?
MARGO Usually at the point when she's got to rewrite and rethink them to keep the audience from leaving the theater!
LLOYD It's about time the piano realized it has not written the concerto!
====
and it's about time to remember that these are not the words of Margo Channing and Lloyd Richards. They're the words of Joseph Mankiewicz.
... and while we're speaking of characters (i.e., while gertrude and eve and i are speaking of them), what do we know about Gertrude Slescynski, except that she's this nasty and brutish woman who wrote herself a character called Eve to play ... and that she shares with her alter-ego the deficiency of being too short for certain gestures...
and what of it? it's Eve we remember, not Schlo... I mean Gertrude Slescynski.
You walked in on the sly Scopin' for love In the crowd, I caught your eye You can't hide your stuff
You came to catch You thought I'd be naive and tame You met your match I beat you at your own game
...
so, what's your name? who's your daddy?
ooooh, c'mon baby. when you're finished tying on that corset we got some serious drinkin' to do!
(what? you thought i was talkin' to you? well, who's zooming who?) Updated On: 7/18/07 at 04:36 AM
oh, by the way, with regard to the comment about "trying way too hard to seem tough with a cancer stick hanging out of your mouth, which you assume makes you look so bad-ass."
i'm sorry about that. i had to crop the photo - when i tried to use the whole image, the violet tights and the peacock feathers in the turban were a little overwhelming. (and i'm still a little embarrassed to show the right side of my face since the accident - the jagged scar really messes up the bart simpson tattoo on my cheekbone.)
And I trust everyone here knows it's not "Veronica's Room" but "Rosemary's Baby" that featured the coven and the creepy Upper West Side apartment building (also known as the Dakota)?
In the words of a great acting teacher, Ralph Lane, "Anyone can give one great performance."
Is acting difficult? Yes, though not every role is as difficult as the next. Sometimes it hits you in the gut and comes out effortlessly and pitch-perfect immediately. Other times you work like a draught horse and never quite get "there."
Can class help? Certainly, but not always. I've seen incredible instinctual actors screwed up by analyzing the process too deeply. On the other hand, I've also seen amazing strides the first time the concept of "playing an intention" is taught.
And I trust everyone here knows it's not "Veronica's Room" but "Rosemary's Baby" that featured the coven and the creepy Upper West Side apartment building (also known as the Dakota)?
I did, SeanMartin, but I could see how it could be unclear. Thanks for making sure that was clarfied!
I've always preferred Veronica to Rosemary. I find the story in the former more gripping than the one in the latter.