So, yesterday I met the cast of Rumors for the first time at a private home at Smith Mountain Lake. It was not for the first read-through of the play, as you might expect; but rather for a crash-course in "Improv." Yes, it was an acting class/improv workshop, taught by a gentleman by the name of Matt Karris (generally, I will not supply last names, to protect people's privacy, however, Mr. Karris is a teacher and actor and more or less a public figure, so I will give you his name, and his pic). Here he is:
Now, this is the man I met. He was wearing a ball cap; but I'm 99 and 44/100ths percent sure this is Mr. Karris. However, when I looked him up on line, I found pictures of him without a beard and he looks like a different person. I mean, like another person. Somebody else.
Now, would you think these two men were even related, let alone the same person?
It really is sort of amazing how much facial hair and hairstyles can completely change how you look. Also, he's an actor, so I think he just naturally has that "chameleon" thing that so many actors do. In any event, this was the fellow who was teaching the class.
Now, generally, when I hear the word "improv" I start grinding my teeth and looking for the nearest exit. Improv, it always seemed to me, attracted the most attention seeking "LOOK AT ME!!!" kind of thespians. Those that are the most in need of being in the spotlight. The show-offs, right? Like that show Whose Line Is It Anyways? I would rather swallow a handful of thumbtacks than watch that show. When I lived in Los Angeles people were always enthusing over The Groundlings. "Oh, The Groundlings, this" and "The Groundlings that" and "Oh, have you auditioned for The Groundlings?" "They don't let just anyone in you know!" The Groundlings could go eat my--shorts, as far as I was concerned.
It really is sort of amazing how much facial hair and hairstyles can completely change how you look. Also, he's an actor, so I think he just naturally has that "chameleon" thing that so many actors do. In any event, this was the fellow who was teaching the class.
Now, generally, when I hear the word "improv" I start grinding my teeth and looking for the nearest exit. Improv, it always seemed to me, attracted the most attention seeking "LOOK AT ME!!!" kind of thespians. Those that are the most in need of being in the spotlight. The show-offs, right? Like that show Whose Line Is It Anyways? I would rather swallow a handful of thumbtacks than watch that show. When I lived in Los Angeles people were always enthusing over The Groundlings. "Oh, The Groundlings, this" and "The Groundlings that" and "Oh, have you auditioned for The Groundlings?" "They don't let just anyone in you know!" The Groundlings could go eat my--shorts, as far as I was concerned.
My thought was, "why the F do I need a school to tell me I have a sense of humor and then pay them for it?"
Needless to say, I was never in an improv class. Until yesterday that is. And I didn't want to do it. Really. I really didn't. But I'm glad I did.
And I'll tell you why...
So, I have a bit of a reputation for being late. I know it's not cool. I know other actors frown upon it. "You're being late to rehearsal is a sign of disrespect for everyone else! You're sending the message that your time is more important..." And so on and so on. I'm never really more than fifteen minutes late. And it's not always. But once I'm there I will rehearse my ass off for you. I will give you my all. I will know my lines (by opening night, anyways) and I will work with other actors. Even actors who think they're better; the ones who may even be openly antagonistic or passive/aggressive. Those types fascinate me. They also make me a better actor. Sometimes you have to act around those people: it's a challenge. Those people, ironically, bring out my milk of human kindness (ewww).
So, when I first met the director, Nancy, at her house at the lake, I literally ended up at the lakeside. The road I was on finally ran out.
Needless to say, I was never in an improv class. Until yesterday that is. And I didn't want to do it. Really. I really didn't. But I'm glad I did.
And I'll tell you why...
So, I have a bit of a reputation for being late. I know it's not cool. I know other actors frown upon it. "You're being late to rehearsal is a sign of disrespect for everyone else! You're sending the message that your time is more important..." And so on and so on. I'm never really more than fifteen minutes late. And it's not always. But once I'm there I will rehearse my ass off for you. I will give you my all. I will know my lines (by opening night, anyways) and I will work with other actors. Even actors who think they're better; the ones who may even be openly antagonistic or passive/aggressive. Those types fascinate me. They also make me a better actor. Sometimes you have to act around those people: it's a challenge. Those people, ironically, bring out my milk of human kindness (ewww).
So, when I first met the director, Nancy, at her house at the lake, I literally ended up at the lakeside. The road I was on finally ran out.
So, I called her and she redirected me and I was about ten minutes late. Yesterday, I was looking for a neighborhood off of this same road and I ended up at the same dead end. My phone rang. It was Nancy. She asked me why I wasn't at the improv. I explained that I'd ended up in the same place. I had driven right by the turn. I was ten minutes late again. I was starting to think that Nancy might think I was a blithering idiot. And who could blame her? Ever hear of GPS Chris? But, I like to do things the old fashioned way. Or the hard way, if you will.
So, when I finally arrived, I was escorted down to the basement of the house. It was quite a large space and I believe it's going to be where most of the rehearsal are taking place. Matt was seated on a sofa facing the cast who were seated in a semi-circle. It was a, shall we say, mature cast, as I had expected it would be. But then, I'm no Spring chicken. I'm 56 and most of the rest of the players skewed about ten years older than me. One person is probably half my age. Wendy, who is playing my wife in the play is about the same age as me, as is (I'm guessing) Matt.
As I entered and sat down the class was in progress and Matt was going over some of the basic tenets of improv and acting in general. With a focus on Meisner techniques: e.g. repetition and improvisation.
So, when I finally arrived, I was escorted down to the basement of the house. It was quite a large space and I believe it's going to be where most of the rehearsal are taking place. Matt was seated on a sofa facing the cast who were seated in a semi-circle. It was a, shall we say, mature cast, as I had expected it would be. But then, I'm no Spring chicken. I'm 56 and most of the rest of the players skewed about ten years older than me. One person is probably half my age. Wendy, who is playing my wife in the play is about the same age as me, as is (I'm guessing) Matt.
As I entered and sat down the class was in progress and Matt was going over some of the basic tenets of improv and acting in general. With a focus on Meisner techniques: e.g. repetition and improvisation.
One of the exercises was an interaction between two actors. One asks a question of the other and the other responds with another question and so on. I was partnered with a lady, I'll call her Monica. So I went first. The first thing that popped into my head. So I asked: "Did you see the news today?" And then she said something like, "What was on the news today?" and then I said, "Do you watch Fox News?" and then she said something else and then I said "Do you watch Fox News?" with a little more emphasis, which I hadn't intended, perhaps accusatory? And then I thought, Oh shit, this lady is gonna think I think she's like a MAGA person and I'm being confrontational. I mean, a lot of people around here are total Trumpers, especially rich white people at the lake. I realized that this improv stuff was kind of on the raw side. Like a little dangerous. Matt explained "The Cinderella Complex." That is when people are too polite during these exercises and it keeps them from getting to the nitty-gritty. He mentioned some of the things people had said to him during "The Blue Shoes" exercise. The Blue Shoes exercise is when you sit facing someone and then you use a two-word phrase based on some aspect of their person, like, "nice shirt." Then the other person repeats "nice shirt" as accurately as they heard it. And back and forth. But you're supposed to inform the two-word phrase with an opinion or implication or subtext. When I did it, my partner was an older gentleman with gorgeous brown eyes. So I said, "brown eyes" and it became clear in the repetition that I liked his brown eyes and he liked them too and liked that I noticed them. It started to get really intimate, really fast. This man could've been my Dad. Matt had received some rather personal and insulting two-word phrases. I suppose when The Cinderella Complex wears off, some actors would be willing to say anything to "get to the truth." But that's where I draw a line. Insulting people in the name of art, I think, could never be a good thing. Unless they work at Fox News. I'd love to play Blue Shoes with Laura Ingraham. My two word phrase for her would be: "Dead Eyes."
But, let's not dwell on the negative.
So, we finally moved on to actual, classic improv scenes, where Matt provided the suggestion and then pairs of actors took it from there. It was fascinating to watch. Really interesting to see who excelled at it and who sort of had The Cinderella Complex. One of the suggestions was: "You're the CEO of a TV news station and you're firing your anchor because she slept with your son...and go..." So, the gentleman playing the CEO was a natural. He immediately started spinning this elaborate scenario of what happened between his son and the anchorwoman. It was also hilarious. During the initial exercises, however, he had been having the most problems and seemed the most closed off. Which kind of made me think about the idea of teaching acting. Is it really something that can be taught? Or do you just either have the talent or you don't? And things like Meisner and The Method and Improvisation are really just pointers?
So, we finally moved on to actual, classic improv scenes, where Matt provided the suggestion and then pairs of actors took it from there. It was fascinating to watch. Really interesting to see who excelled at it and who sort of had The Cinderella Complex. One of the suggestions was: "You're the CEO of a TV news station and you're firing your anchor because she slept with your son...and go..." So, the gentleman playing the CEO was a natural. He immediately started spinning this elaborate scenario of what happened between his son and the anchorwoman. It was also hilarious. During the initial exercises, however, he had been having the most problems and seemed the most closed off. Which kind of made me think about the idea of teaching acting. Is it really something that can be taught? Or do you just either have the talent or you don't? And things like Meisner and The Method and Improvisation are really just pointers?
I'm not sure. Some actors, like Jodie Foster, say they don't believe in acting classes because they don't want to mess with the gift they know they already have. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right? Michelle Pfeiffer was being interviewed by James Lipton and he brought up improv. She scowled and admitted she hated it. She prefers to just be given a script, memorize the lines and then go and play the part. I'm kind of on the fence. I've been to acting classes and watched people do scenes and then the instructor gives notes and invariably there is improvement. I think acting classes and improv exercise do help actors to break the ice with one another. It helps the cast bond. At the very least, it helps a group of strangers be more comfortable with one another and thus be able to get to more "truth" on the stage. Whatever that is. I mean, how much "truth" could there be in a glib Neil Simon comedy? And I say "glib" because he is. Neil Simon wants to get laughs and not a lot more. But is there not a lot of "truth" in what makes us laugh?
So, I was paired with a woman (not "Monica" this time!) and Matt took me aside and whispered the prompt. "You can't contain you guilt any longer and confess to her that you were the one that stabbed her cat..."
So, I walked over and told her that I'd killed her cat and then she demanded to know why I did it. And it spiraled out from there. I hated cats, you see, I was compelled to stab the cat and leave it on the driveway. She was going to call the police and I told her that she couldn't. She wanted to know why. "Because I'm your son!" I cried. And then I started wondering to myself, being a cat lover, why I would ever stab a cat. Because they haunt my dreams, you see, like some demon cat from a Poe story. One that keeps meowing and meowing! That devil cat that must be silenced!!!
So, I was paired with a woman (not "Monica" this time!) and Matt took me aside and whispered the prompt. "You can't contain you guilt any longer and confess to her that you were the one that stabbed her cat..."
So, I walked over and told her that I'd killed her cat and then she demanded to know why I did it. And it spiraled out from there. I hated cats, you see, I was compelled to stab the cat and leave it on the driveway. She was going to call the police and I told her that she couldn't. She wanted to know why. "Because I'm your son!" I cried. And then I started wondering to myself, being a cat lover, why I would ever stab a cat. Because they haunt my dreams, you see, like some demon cat from a Poe story. One that keeps meowing and meowing! That devil cat that must be silenced!!!
So, I really wasn't all that surprised that I took to improv like a cat takes to catnip.
So, I'm playing "Ken Gorman." He's a lawyer. He and his wife "Chris" are the first on stage. They arrive at the home of their friends Charley and Myra for a tenth anniversary dinner. Myra and the servants are missing and Charley is in the bedroom with a gunshot wound to his earlobe. Ken orchestrates a cover-up, not wanting news of this attempted suicide(?) to get out. Of course, when the other guests start arriving, it becomes increasingly difficult to sustain the ruse. Hilarity (hopefully) will ensue. The role of Chris Gorman won Christine Baranski a Tony. My role was originally played by Mark Nelson.
I would say that myself and Mr. Nelson are quite similar types. Of course, my ears are smaller and my nose is more subtle; but same general ball park. Online info about him is sparse, but there's no mention of a wife...hmmmm. He's a Libra. I get along really well with Libras.
Anyways, I play much of the show not being able to hear anything, so there's a lot of misunderstanding what people are saying bits. There is also a two-page speech towards the end of the show, which, thankfully, I do not have to deliver.
So, tonight we're blocking the first scene. I hate blocking right out of the gate. I have a terrible short term memory. Oh well.
I'll keep you posted with further developments.
Ciao for now.
CFR 5/25/22
Anyways, I play much of the show not being able to hear anything, so there's a lot of misunderstanding what people are saying bits. There is also a two-page speech towards the end of the show, which, thankfully, I do not have to deliver.
So, tonight we're blocking the first scene. I hate blocking right out of the gate. I have a terrible short term memory. Oh well.
I'll keep you posted with further developments.
Ciao for now.
CFR 5/25/22
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