It’s a lot of drivel if you ask me- the notion that an actor can, with due preparation, get into the skin of the character he is supposed to portray. I mean, come on, I woke up this morning nursing a hangover that I managed to pick up at some party I attended last night. An orange juice (with extra pulp) and an omelette later, I’m driving my sparkling blue Porsche to the sets and before I know it I have been transformed into soldier behind enemy lines in a war ravaged terrain staring a gun barrel in the face.
Fine. Maybe this is the kind of thing that actually does happen to real people embroiled in unfortunate circumstances. I also realize that as an actor, who takes his job extremely seriously, I’m supposed to try and relate to these circumstances of mortal danger, place myself in the shoes of the character I’m playing, reach into the chasms of my soul and pull out an expression that is in coherence with reality. They call that being a spontaneous/ natural actor. All this, knowing full well that far from dying an anonymous , unceremonious death in a foreign land what awaits me in the next couple of hours is a few autograph pads thrust in my face and , traffic permitting, a chance to catch my favourite show before I snuggle into bed. Can I be expected to do that? Really?
I concede, nevertheless, that “acting” is different from “reacting”. The best that an actor can do is be convincing enough to keep the audience engaged to the tale. What then is a ‘sincere’ performance? Acting is, intrinsically, an exercise in subversion. And I use the word ‘subversion’ after having, hopefully, cleansed it of all pejorative connotations. Indeed, any actor who believes he can truly transmit to the audience, without dilution, exaggeration or pre-treatment of any sort, the emotions felt or the expressions conveyed by any person in an analogous situation in the real world is deluding himself. The arrogance which is implicit in any such belief is also worthy of considerable mention.
It is a world of rampant consumerism that we find ourselves in. Every product which is sold is packaged. And everything that is packaged has its own little bundle of lies hidden away in plain sight. Things are no different when it comes to the product that is performance. Ever wondered why so many of the lead actors (the successful ones, at any rate) on both television and big screen are both attractive and charismatic? Because they are easy on the eyes- whether they are happy, morose, ecstatic, scared, shocked or anxious. Harsh as it may sound, the human mind is more tuned to the emotions of others if the expressions conveying those emotions are, well, not ungainly. Does that make actors uncompassionate beings, feeding to the audience in a ready-to-eat avatar, situations which may potentially scar or mould a person’s life forever?
Having said that, is there any such thing as good acting? Of course there is. But then good, bad and ugly are merely words which exhibit considerable flexibility and range in meaning , connotation and undertone .It is this delicious ambiguity that serves as the cornerstone of all art and the opinion of it. There is, however, a school of thought that contends that there are no absolutes in the business of judging art. “There are no facts, only interpretations”, they say, an obvious attempt to win over Friedrich Nietzche to their side. So have the philosophers of the world decreed that equal respect be granted to all opinions of art? So do we maintain a stoic silence every time we find a work intellectually hollow and repugnant on the off chance that someone somewhere finds his jaws dropping when subjected to the same? Equally, are people allowed to cling on to their opinions knowing full well that they form an overwhelming minority? And more importantly, are people justified in proactively trying to develop a “better” taste even if it does not come naturally to them? After all, we all crave acceptance from highly regarded connoisseurs of society with “refined” tastes. Or should we rather hang on to and take pride in our visceral reaction to art?
There lies great merit in the theory that maybe these questions are best left unanswered. After all, great art is often born out of mental conflict and not the resolution of it. It is almost poetically just for valuable “opinion of art” to also have its roots in such conflict. Art does not pose questions about itself. It provides us with a brutally graphic reflection of self. Whether we should embrace the monster behind the mirror or try and tame it into becoming a more politic, socially acceptable entity is the question which confronts us. It is a question which will reveal a rare glimpse of that which we truly are and at the same time offer us the choice of becoming who we want to be.
In the question of art, no choice is right or wrong. Our choices are precisely and only just that---ours. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Fine. Maybe this is the kind of thing that actually does happen to real people embroiled in unfortunate circumstances. I also realize that as an actor, who takes his job extremely seriously, I’m supposed to try and relate to these circumstances of mortal danger, place myself in the shoes of the character I’m playing, reach into the chasms of my soul and pull out an expression that is in coherence with reality. They call that being a spontaneous/ natural actor. All this, knowing full well that far from dying an anonymous , unceremonious death in a foreign land what awaits me in the next couple of hours is a few autograph pads thrust in my face and , traffic permitting, a chance to catch my favourite show before I snuggle into bed. Can I be expected to do that? Really?
I concede, nevertheless, that “acting” is different from “reacting”. The best that an actor can do is be convincing enough to keep the audience engaged to the tale. What then is a ‘sincere’ performance? Acting is, intrinsically, an exercise in subversion. And I use the word ‘subversion’ after having, hopefully, cleansed it of all pejorative connotations. Indeed, any actor who believes he can truly transmit to the audience, without dilution, exaggeration or pre-treatment of any sort, the emotions felt or the expressions conveyed by any person in an analogous situation in the real world is deluding himself. The arrogance which is implicit in any such belief is also worthy of considerable mention.
It is a world of rampant consumerism that we find ourselves in. Every product which is sold is packaged. And everything that is packaged has its own little bundle of lies hidden away in plain sight. Things are no different when it comes to the product that is performance. Ever wondered why so many of the lead actors (the successful ones, at any rate) on both television and big screen are both attractive and charismatic? Because they are easy on the eyes- whether they are happy, morose, ecstatic, scared, shocked or anxious. Harsh as it may sound, the human mind is more tuned to the emotions of others if the expressions conveying those emotions are, well, not ungainly. Does that make actors uncompassionate beings, feeding to the audience in a ready-to-eat avatar, situations which may potentially scar or mould a person’s life forever?
Having said that, is there any such thing as good acting? Of course there is. But then good, bad and ugly are merely words which exhibit considerable flexibility and range in meaning , connotation and undertone .It is this delicious ambiguity that serves as the cornerstone of all art and the opinion of it. There is, however, a school of thought that contends that there are no absolutes in the business of judging art. “There are no facts, only interpretations”, they say, an obvious attempt to win over Friedrich Nietzche to their side. So have the philosophers of the world decreed that equal respect be granted to all opinions of art? So do we maintain a stoic silence every time we find a work intellectually hollow and repugnant on the off chance that someone somewhere finds his jaws dropping when subjected to the same? Equally, are people allowed to cling on to their opinions knowing full well that they form an overwhelming minority? And more importantly, are people justified in proactively trying to develop a “better” taste even if it does not come naturally to them? After all, we all crave acceptance from highly regarded connoisseurs of society with “refined” tastes. Or should we rather hang on to and take pride in our visceral reaction to art?
There lies great merit in the theory that maybe these questions are best left unanswered. After all, great art is often born out of mental conflict and not the resolution of it. It is almost poetically just for valuable “opinion of art” to also have its roots in such conflict. Art does not pose questions about itself. It provides us with a brutally graphic reflection of self. Whether we should embrace the monster behind the mirror or try and tame it into becoming a more politic, socially acceptable entity is the question which confronts us. It is a question which will reveal a rare glimpse of that which we truly are and at the same time offer us the choice of becoming who we want to be.
In the question of art, no choice is right or wrong. Our choices are precisely and only just that---ours. Nothing more. Nothing less.
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