Laurence Olivier was known for his insistence upon theatrical makeup. These days, the big prosthetic nose he favored for his Shylock wouldn't be acceptable. Nevertheless, the way he fit his makeup to his character-and vice versa-is an important part of the actor's craft. As Uta Hagen wrote in Respect for Acting, "An eyelash, a mustache, a wig must become an integral part of you. They ought to free the new "you' wholly."
But if your makeup is so heavy that it takes hours to apply and utterly transforms you, who is calling the shots, you or the makeup? Three Los Angeles professionals who have worked under such extreme conditions agreed that it's a little bit of both.
Armin Shimerman (who played Quark in the cast of the TV Star Trek series Deep Space Nine during the entire seven years of its run) and Andrew Robinson (who appeared in the recurring role of Garak in the same series) are classically trained actors who say that performing under heavy makeup is similar to mask work. The paradox is that as restrictive as masks (or gobs of makeup) can be, they also have the capacity to free you emotionally.
"The classical reference I would use is commedia dell'art ," said Robinson, whose granddaughter wouldn't look at him in his Deep Space face. "Like a mask, the heavy makeup "sets' your face." As the fearsome humanoid Garak, he wore seven prosthetic pieces plus heavy cosmetics, which initially took three-and-a-half to four hours to apply (but eventually narrowed down to two hours).
Tall and imposing-looking on the small screen, Robinson as Garak had weird ridges on his face that looked like motionless serpents under the skin, and a scaly reptilian neck. He told me he initially felt claustrophobia, as though his face were being squeezed and he couldn't breathe, but, "Once I got over that, there was a real freedom. I could support bigger gestures, greater vocal power, my eyes could function in a more stylistic way. Obviously I was restricted by the seven pieces glued on me so that I, Andy, was submerged. But out of that, this character came together."
He did Indian kathakali eye exercises for strengthening purposes, because with restricted facial movement, all his expression had to register in his eyes, voice, and body. "Without the "mask,' that kind of eye work would be overacting [on TV]," he pointed out. "My voice became deeper, more deliberate. I tried to extract the value of each word, each phrase. A lot of the choices I made were external choices."
I asked him what were the pitfalls of working with heavy makeup. "What happens with a lot of actors is the "mask' gets thrown on them, and they become intimidated by it," he said. "If you're doing Greek tragedy in a traditional way, you learn how to work with these elements, which were designed to elevate the performance above naturalism. You can't slouch and mumble like on Melrose Place."
Too Much Can Be a Bad Thing
Armin Shimerman-Robinson's friend, Deep Space Nine colleague, and associate at the Matrix Theatre-disagreed with Robinson's commedia comparison: "Commedia is a very large performance, very demonstrative," he said. "My feeling about the "mask' is it still must be very real, yet theatrical. It's like performing on a large stage and having to convey emotions through the eyes and experiences, but not necessarily overact." He added, "You wouldn't say Olivier was an overactor-just a large actor."
Shimerman's Quark, a crafty little bugger of the Ferengi species, was less human-looking than Robinson's intimidating Garak. His entire head was surrounded by a rubber football-helmet affair with a mask attached to it; only his chin and part of his throat remained uncovered. The result was an oversized, bulbous, bifurcated bald noggin that resembled a lumpy butt. (Why are aliens always so darned ugly?) Although the makeup felt at first as distracting as a fly buzzing around his head, said Shimerman, such is the Star Trek series artistry that it was actually quite malleable.
How did his complicated Ferengi-head affect Shimerman's approach to the role? Describing himself as normally a "circumspect" actor, he said, "It was a bit claustrophobic the first time. I thought it would be repressive, would cut off my actor impulses because I couldn't hear as well. On the other hand, it was freeing, like wearing a paper bag over your face at a party. It's not you. Most actors worry about what they look like on camera, but to me it made no difference, I could do whatever I wanted to do."
He noted that the casting department on that series tended to use classical actors who are used to being larger than life. "The makeup does tone down your reactions and you have to bump things up, like on the stage. Once I realized I couldn't overact, it was very freeing. It inspired me." His sly Quark was in fact both comic and subtle.
Shimerman believes the major danger for actors is in overcompensating. "Actors see the makeup and they think they have to make faces," he said. "But you're in makeup, the audience sees it, you don't have to over-enhance it. If you're a one-legged man, you don't have to play a one-legged man-you are what you are. Many actors tend to come up with buffoonish performances."
He added, "Andy feels you have to fill the makeup, but I think he'd agree with me: not too much. I'd say you don't have to fill the makeup, but you have to do something. But not doing anything seems to me the lesser fault."
Shimerman became a more daring and fantastical actor because of that makeup. "I learned to play the fool," he said. "I'm not sure whether it was the makeup or the character himself, but in my mind those two are intertwined. I learned to be much more open."
Making Zombie Eyes
Onstage, of course, overly made up or not, you're expected to be bigger than on camera. In Ugly's First World by Jeff Dorchen, a January, 1999 production at Los Angeles' Actors' Gang, Christopher Gerson and two others played zombies. Christopher's makeup was made of layers of latex and tissue paper; he pulled at it after it was applied to break it open slightly so that it looked even more repulsive. He also had a slit in his neck, one ear taped to his head and latexed over, and blacked-out teeth, and he shaved his head and stained it with charcoal.
"I discovered that character through the makeup," said Gerson. And not a minute too soon: He got his makeup for the first time two days before tech week. "It was as if [prior to that] I had created a character who was just a base coat, and then I suddenly painted the thing," he explained.
When he first looked in the mirror, he thought, "My goodness, he's in bad shape! No wonder he's not a positive person! It's a bit simplistic, but it does make you understand the depth of your character." He saw that his eyes remained clear within the gory makeup, and he realized that even though his character was a walking horror, he was still intelligent. Because the whites of his eyes popped out so noticeably from his black and blood-red face, he and the director decided he'd keep his head low most of the time and save those startling whites for special moments.
In masks or makeup, the eyes definitely have it: Shimerman's and Robinson's intensely animated, light-colored eyes were riveting in the three episodes I watched.
"It's a huge mistake not to let the makeup bring something out in you," Gerson said. "It can take you to the wrong place, but it's the director's job to take you to the right area. It has to transform you in some way."
All three actors benefited hugely from the daily grueling makeup sessions. "For most actors it's frustrating to sit in a chair for hours having someone apply cold glue to the face," said Shimerman, "but the upside is it gives you time to get ready for work." He ran lines with others, got into character, worked on the language. Taking the makeup off, of course, is less rewarding after a long day or exhausting performance, and it has to be removed slowly to avoid damaging the skin. Gerson often drove home without bothering to remove his zombie face, occasionally eliciting a scream from passing motorists.
Clearly, outlandish makeup calls for a certain amount of working from the outside in to create your character. And why not? Our own personalities are at least partly formed by our physical appearance. But where our natural faces may limit us in real life, in acting our artificial faces can free us. BSW