Not at the Nicolas Cage Institute of Howling and Scenery Chewing it isn’t!
(Motto: “Too much is never enough! YEEAAAAHHH!”)
Stranger
Maybe this Laurence Olivier story isn’t really comparable, but your account reminded me of something I read a while back - since memorialized on Wikipedia:
[The 1976 film] Marathon Man is famous in acting circles for an often quoted exchange between [Dustin] Hoffman and [Laurence] Olivier concerning a perceived difference in their approaches to acting.
In the usual telling of the story, Hoffman, a proponent of method acting, prepared for a scene in which his character had been awake for three days by doing the same himself. Following much goading and verbal put-downs by Hoffman, who criticized Olivier for not being as committed to his art as Hoffman, Olivier remarked, “My dear boy, why don’t you just try acting?” In an interview on Inside the Actors Studio, Hoffman said that this exchange had been distorted; that he had been up all night at a nightclub for personal rather than professional reasons, and Olivier, who was aware of this, was merely joking.
Notwithstanding Hoffman’s latter-day explanation, the story suggests a difference between actors who really do inhabit their characters and “feel what they feel” per the plot (aka method actors) and classical (?) actors like Olivier who could just “act the part” and then walk away ten seconds later as if nothing at all had happened to their mind/psyche.
Fast forward roughly 50 years since Marathon Man was filmed. I know (or I think I know) that today, method acting is generally considered THE WAY to act in film (even if it’s not universally adopted by all players). The question suggested is whether actors acting the way Olivier did during his heyday** would seem stilted or especially un-genuine to 21st-century audiences.
** I don’t know … say between 1939’s Wuthering Heights (never seen) and 1960’s Spartacus (saw as a child).
Lots of great and deeply informed answers by people who know their stuff - a delight to read. Four stars.
Possibly the only thing to add is to highlight that most people are practiced from birth to read other people’s expressions and facial mannerisms, to the point where we know quickly if someone is genuinely happy / sad / angry etc. If you are in a movie theatre, your face is being projected to the size of the side of a barn. Take a minute to look at a good actor up there as they emote and then move to, say, a daytime soap actor doing the same with less talent, need to nail it or time to prepare. One of them looks real, even at high magnification, and the other is just gurning for the cameras. If the movie actor is not completely convincing it immediately takes you out of the character, then out of the story, and very quickly out of the movie, and that’s when it gets 1 star, and everyone goes broke.
There are different approaches to acting. My Theater teacher used the Meisner technique. His book is Sanford Meisner on Acting was our textbook for the class. It’s not a how to. It’s more of a guide that our teacher used.
I remember a Trust exercise. One person is blindfolded and lead around by a partner.
Listening is another part of the technique. We were encouraged to really engage with our acting partner. Drink in every word. Like a very important conversation.
Learning lines gave me trouble. You have to know them so well that it comes out like an effortless conversation. Any hesitation will be noticed.
My interest was in production. I enjoyed hanging and focusing lights. Adding Gels for color. That requires climbing up to every light over the stage. I ran the sound one semester. Following cues from the stage manager during the performance.
I was never good at acting. But enjoyed the experience.
I enjoyed reading the detailed answers on acting. It involves much skill and presumably the ones who get the part beat out many other skilled competitors. The best ones are unforgettable.
But I was listening to comedy radio and they had an actor, some guy who had done a few seasons of a mediocre TV show, say that acting was not particularly hard, anyone could do it passably well with a month of training, if you could pretend you could act, and that the profession was not free from ego or self-congratulation. Now, I don’t think this guy was right. He argued several younger actors who had little training won academy awards for their portrayals, and so training was overrated. But of course some people are less self-conscious or have more potential than others, and these hypothetical award winners likely still beat out many likely gifted competitors.
So, what do you say to this argument?
Skilled actor… how much is training, how much being naturally gifted?
I think that “Method” (a.k.a. Stanislavski’s System and derivative approaches) gets a lot more talk than play. It’s popular in the study of acting but the degree of preparation and the amount of emotional effort it takes is just more than most actors are willing to do, and frankly, more disruptive than most working directors are willing to put up with from anyone other than their favorite muse.
That isn’t to say that many actors don’t emotionally prepare for a role or a particular scene by delving within their own emotional history to find the ‘truth’ of the character, but to do that continuously even for a relatively short film shoot, much less a large movie or an ongoing television series with a strict shoot schedule would be frustrating for not only the actor but everyone around them, which is why “Method” actors get a reputation for being difficult even when they are brilliant, and why a lot of difficult assholesactors claim to be just doing their Method.
And of course, there are other perspectives.
Stranger
I used to act in my local Repertory Theatre in a small town. It was fun, and I learned as I went some of the expectations for theatre performing, such as cheating to the audience or projecting, pretty standard stuff everyone needs to know. But actual performance was down to me and what the director wanted, which was different for each show and character. I just learned over time how to do it, basing it a lot on what acting I had seen before from TV (sitcoms are very theatrical) and also reacting off the other cast in the shows I was in. I got pretty good at it, and I was often singled out in reviews.
Now, this was local community theatre, I knew I couldn’t go pro with it, even though if you watch any professional stage show the principles are exactly the same. But I really thought I could manage to translate it into acting on film, even a pokey short film my friends were making. So I gave that a try a few times, and boy howdy did I make a pig’s ear of that! I was terrible! I couldn’t remember my lines, I couldn’t adjust my performance for the director, I felt self-conscious with every word and move I made, it was a complete kerfuffle!
So what I learned from that was that acting can seem easy and straightforward, but it’s not. Some people can do either medium and it comes naturally, but when they swap over to the other, like I was doing, they just muff it and basically have to relearn everything again. You have to relax into it, and get some real rehearsal and experience under your belt, and learn the techniques for every medium, or you’re going to be struggling.
I have a relative who has acted in a number of shows and movies that many people here would recognize, and she never had any intention of becoming an actor. When she was quite young (I’ll say maybe 10-ish years old), she and her parents were at some convenience store somewhere and she happened to be looking at something interesting in the parking lot when she and parents were approached by some TV show people who basically said that they could really use someone like her. It was completely legit and she has been acting for the subsequent 30 some years. Whether she’s actually had any training as an actor, beyond experience and whatever directing does, I don’t know.
I’m trying deliberately to ensure anonymity here, hence the vagueness above.
You forgot ‘lucky’ and ‘persistent’ as well.
There is a lot to be said for training in any skill, and certainly a work ethic and continuous devotion to craft will serve any aspiring actor, but to be frank all the training in the world isn’t going to turn the average schlub into Robert DeNiro or Al Pacino. Unfortunately, even Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino can’t hit it out of the park at every game.
To be a good actor, even (or perhaps especially) a character actor, you have to be passionate about embodying the character and express some distinctive qualities; having an unusually attractive or distinctive face helps a lot as well. Or, you have to be a hot commodity on the comedy circuit that some t.v. execs think would be good to headline a cheap sitcom. But even they surprise you sometimes.
I think there are a lot of talented but uncelebrated actors out there. I knew who Bob Odenkirk was for years as a sketch comedian and never once thought he could endow a clownish role like ‘Slippin’ Jimmy McGill with such depth and pathos, and even stand out in a cast of outstanding actors. But there are also a lot of ‘wannabes’ with ambition, training, and even drive but lacking in native talent or charisma who are never going to be more than “Passenger #5” or “Lady in Diner”.
Stranger
I like Dustin Hoffman’s story about meeting a famous actress from the golden era of movies(I can not remember who). Katherine Hepburn, maybe?
He wanted to ask her all about acting and so he found a moment and asked her how she played some of her biggest roles. Was she method? Did she use some other technique.
She just waved the question off quickly and said, “Me? Oh, I pretend.”
Good answer, actually.
That sounds so very much like Kate.
In the same interview, Dustin tells a story about working on The Marathon Man. He got to be in a movie with Laurence Olivier. Wow.
I’ve not seen the movie, but Hoffman’s character is supposed to be exhausted, worn out, completely drained. Hoffman, trying to go method, stayed up for 48+ hours.
He told Olivier this when he got on set and Olivier said, “My man, haven’t you heard of ‘acting’?”
Again, great point.
It occurred to me that starting as a child actor would be a form of training in its own right. When I Googled “actors without formal training”, I came across this interesting article courtesy the Maggie Flanagan Studio:
Some of the most recognized names in the film industry took unconventional routes to fame. These self-taught actors relied on natural talent, unique opportunities, and sheer determination rather than formal acting training. They also had the fortune of working at a professional level from an early age.
Also, when you look at most of these names, they are beautiful people. Their looks alone will get them into a room. Agents and managers are always quick to take on a beautiful, untrained actor in the hopes that as they book work, they will learn enough to get by. I would not bank my career on walking this path.
The article goes to give brief synopses of the early careers of 16 actors who they list as never having formal training: Tom Cruise, Jennifer Lawrence, Johnny Depp, Charlize Theron, Christian Bale, Joaquin Phoenix, Cameron Diaz, Meg Ryan, Jim Carrey, Matthew McConaughey, Russell Crowe, Henry Cavill, Ben Kingsley, Natalie Portman, Heath Ledger, and Brad Pitt.
It occurs to me after reading this list and thinking about velomont’s post that there is likely a difference between (a) training to become a working actor and (b) becoming a movie star.
I listen to the podcast “Office Ladies” which is hosted by Jenna Fisher and Angela Kinsey (Pam and Angela from the US version of The Office). They get into a lot of technical details about acting, the process of doing a TV show, casting, balancing acting and a life outside of acting, stuff you have to do for the show outside of the show (like promotional events, awards shows)… I mean everything that is involved in becoming and being a paid (and successful) actor. It’s fascinating to anyone who has any interest in what it’s like to do a TV show, and it’s extremely interesting if you liked their show because you learn so many tiny details about the show and the cast and crew, and a lot about Jenna and Angela as people.
Anyway, they do a lot of interviews with people who were involved with the show, including guest stars. One guest star was a comedian named Andrew Santino, who showed up in a season 9 episode, “The Boat”, where he played an unnamed character who had bought a boat from Andy Bernard (Ed Helms’ character on the show). He didn’t have a ton of screen time (and again, his character didn’t even have a name) but his character was still pretty memorable for fans of the show.
It was one of Santino’s first acting jobs. His background was more in standup comedy, and he didn’t have much experience doing scripted TV. And he related how he kept lifting the wrong hand in one scene and blocking the camera, and ruining the shot over and over again. Just one of those things you never think about if you’ve never done that work, but just one little goof and you have to start all over again.
He has since gone on to be in many TV shows and movies, and has been a series regular in multiple TV shows, had his own TV specials, and so on. But he still never forgot how nervous he was to do that bit character on The Office, and how he screwed things up just by not being “camera aware”, and how even using the wrong hand in a scene can ruin it.
There’s actually an excellent example of this in cinemas right now.
Wicked is directed by a guy named Jon Chu. He’s built a pretty specialized filmography; half of his movies are musicals, starting with the second and third Step Up movies, and also including the Lin-Manual Miranda adaptation In the Heights. Besides those, Chu also directed a couple other formula sequels (in the G.I. Joe and Now You See Me franchises), plus the massive smash hit Crazy Rich Asians.
Chu is not a great director. His work is very inconsistent, because he tends to latch onto a simple concept as a trick for grounding his direction, and then he beats it to death. Sometimes that idea serves the movie — Crazy Rich Asians is probably his best movie, because it very consciously constructs itself as a recapitulation of old-fashioned upper-class comedy tropes in a transplanted setting, so the rigidly familiar format means it works despite its wild tonal inconsistencies.
If you look at Wicked, it’s screamingly obvious that Chu was concerned that audiences wouldn’t be able to identify with anything about the silly fantasy world, that they’d feel distanced from the fairy-tale characters and the magical setting they inhabit and therefore unable to immerse themselves in the story. Therefore, he seems to have instructed his team to design and shoot the film more realistically than a traditional musical. The color palette is muted, more like the barely-graded digital washout of an indie film. And there’s pseudo-natural backlighting everywhere, instead of the bright front-splash lighting typical in classic song-and-dance movies, which seems intended to make us “believe” in the reality of the physical spaces but which unfortunately wipes out the actors’ faces.
You can feel this impulse toward realism in the direction of the actors, also. There’s lots of little grace notes and pauses in the delivery of the dialog, where it’s obvious the movie (under Chu’s direction) wants us to feel and believe in the psychological depth of the characters. The camera’s right up in their face, so we should see them think and feel like a normal movie character. And after a couple of the musical numbers, there’s an entirely pointless moment where a character finishes singing, and then takes a moment to compose themselves and return to whatever they were doing before. (Example: At the end of “The Wizard and I,” Elphaba delivers the song’s soaring climax standing at the edge of a cliff, and then the music fades and we watch her walk back toward the school for a few seconds, for no reason at all except the movie seems concerned that we wouldn’t be able to figure out how she got back, which is nuts.)
The thing is, musicals simply don’t work like this. They’re already not realistic. We in the audience lean into the artifice and are carried along. When Chicago magically teleports us into an imaginary stage world for its musical numbers, we don’t care where this is or how the actors got there. We go with it. So Chu’s apparent impulse to treat the land of Oz as realistic and grounded is quite perplexing indeed. Let Elphaba finish the song, take her pose on the cliff, and then cut away! Boom! Big finish! We’ll get it! Argh.
The movie only really comes alive when it’s locked into a musical number (which, thankfully, is a lot of the time). Here, the artificiality takes over, and the necessary timing of the songs means the turgid, clumsy impulse toward realism has to be set aside just to keep the music moving. Chu is not a good director of actors, but he’s a reasonably good director of dance sequences, so the musical numbers work pretty well.
And that brings me back around to the original point: the central cast of Wicked knows what movie they’re in, even if Chu apparently doesn’t, and they embrace the heightened theatricality of their characters despite the wrongheaded moviemaking around them. Cynthia Erivo struggles a bit in the straight dialog scenes, again because Chu seems to be telling her to perform the material incorrectly, but as soon as the music spins up she grabs her songs with both hands and locks into the right approach. Ariana Grande is even better, seeming to disregard the poor direction entirely and leaning hard into the exact theater-kid silliness that the material needs to work. (And because she’s a Major Pop Star, nobody has the juice to “correct” her.)
Michelle Yeoh, by contrast, flounders completely. She’s never done anything like this, and she seems lost, trying to give Chu what he’s asking for but unaware of what the material actually requires. She’s a brilliant talent — she absolutely anchors Crazy Rich Asians, for example — but here, not only is she miscast, but the director is helpless to guide her and lift her performance.
Does this example help illustrate and answer your question?
This reminds me - from time to time in “Law and Order” there’s a minor character in an early scene, and I get the sensation “this actor is acting the heck out of this minor scene because it’s their big shot!” - but maybe it is just an actor who is passionate about every role, and it’s coming through in a scene that would otherwise be blah
Slight hijack — but maybe not? — I’m reminded of Pacino’s role in THE RECRUIT: when you see him delivering a lecture to the latest cadets, the character sounds exactly like a guy who gave the same speech to last year’s crop; he’ll also underline an ‘instructor’ point he just made by pausing and repeating a line for emphasis, which of course makes it sound doubly rote.
And, since we’re following the story of one recruit in particular, we first see Pacino’s character introduce himself and make a sales pitch: Colin Farrell, being pitched, gets to react like he’s making stuff up as he goes along — as if he doesn’t know who this guy is, and wasn’t expecting to hear a sales pitch today, and is trying to think up good responses on the fly — but Pacino delivers his lines like they’re rehearsed: exactly as if he does know who the other guy is, and was expecting to have this very conversation, and already has canned responses like unto a stage magician doing patter during a trick.
And this keeps up for pretty much the whole movie! Pacino’s role in one scene involves getting asked to tell a story that he’s told before; in another, delivering exposition that he knew yesterday but that the recipient hasn’t yet heard; the closest thing he has to a character quirk is making pop-culture references — less by saying that X reminds him of Y, and more by just flatly relaying shopworn quote Z — and, at one point, he expressly practices remarks that he plans to deliver later, as he isn’t in front of the intended audience yet. And so on.
That’s a pretty thankless role; how could you hit it out of the park, if the character is written as a going-through-the-motions guy who says things as if he’s said them before? Given that, it’s actually kind of impressive that Pacino manages to make it work at all, let alone that he actually does some fun stuff with it.
As others have pointed out there’s lots to learn about making choices, but bear in mind actors do need to learn a lot of technical skills.
There does need to be… some natural skill, though. I am personally familiar with people who have taken all kinds of training and acted professionally at a low level who after years of practice and effort are still mediocre.
Law & Order (at least the original series) benefitted from shooting on location in New York City and therefore getting ready access to a large pool of stage acting talent, and to a certain extent even fostering a more frequent transition between stage and television work. Patti LuPone, the renowned Broadway actor, had a recurring role as a defense attorney, Tovah Feldshuh did a series of guest parts as a defense attorney, and of course Paul Sorvino (“Pauly” in Goodfellas) was a main castmember for the second season. They also sometime got big name actors in bit parts just because they lived in the city and wanted to be on the show; James Earl Jones had a notable one-episode role as a defense attorney taking on the case of an avowed racist to raise his legal profile. And it has been the ‘first role’ for a not insignificant number of actors such as Claire Danes and Maura Tierney who you could kind of tell were destined for bigger things.
Of course, the Law & Order is also the source of the tropes of “Guy Who Is Too Busy Unloading Crates Of Liquor To Stop And Talk To Detectives”, “Suspicious Parent Who Is Just Covering For Their Child Who Is The Real Killer”, and I would argue is the real genesis of the ‘Walk & Talk’ trope that Aaron Sorkin gets all the credit for because he tries to put one in every episode of every show he’s ever written.
Stranger
And even the occasional non-actor - like Fran Lebowitz as Judge Janis Goldberg.