Once I was in a play in which the director told me to gaze tearfully off into the distance as the lights came down. I felt terribly phony doing this and resisted, but she insisted. I never felt good about it. Preparing to write this column, I thought about that incident and wondered if I should have been more adamant, refusing to do something that felt so artificial.
After talking to a few professional actors whose work I admire, however, I see it differently. They say to try whatever the director suggests, to make the moment your own. If that fails—well, we'll get to that.
Kathryn Howell was directed in an intense two-character play by someone she'd never worked with before. He wanted her to make a particular action so big that to Howell it seemed like telegraphing. "I thought, Hey, give the audience some credit," says Howell. But it turned out the director's choice was right—it was an excellent production. "I think from that I learned to always give the director's choice a try and make it work," she says.
Another time Howell was in a play that the director had already directed. Using his old script, he gave Howell the same direction he'd given the actor who'd played the role before, right down to a specific arm gesture. For Howell, who works organically, this interfered with her process. "The way I act is not by deciding what kind of arm gesture to make—it's about finding out what my arm does," she explains. Still, she eventually had to find a way to justify the action.
Remi Sandri explains that actors must willingly, even eagerly, try every piece of direction in good faith. Sometimes, he says, if actors disagree with a choice, they'll sabotage it to show it doesn't work. That's a bad idea that can backfire: What if the director says, "Yes, that's it"? Bring in plenty of choices of your own, Sandri suggests. Young actors sometimes wait for the director to tell them what to do.
Occasionally—and especially with Shakespeare, Sandri points out—you'll have a director with a particular vision, and the choices you make, or are directed to make, have to line up with that vision. "It can be hellish for the actor if you're not on the same page with the director, because the choices can be so weird," he says. So Sandri arms himself, so to speak, with careful text analysis. There have been times when he's pointed out to a director that a piece of direction goes against the text, and the director has said, "Oh, I didn't notice that." Says Sandri, "Sometimes directors are not as prepared as they'd like to be, and sometimes actors know more about the text."
Daniel Talbott says that fear is what has kept him at times from being willing to go with seemingly difficult direction. He's been fighting that fear and with good results. For example, he loves working with director Daniel Fish (Talbott is currently in a Fish-directed revival of Tartuffe at Yale Rep), who pushes him to go to dark, scary places. "What's great about working with someone I trust is that even if I don't get [the direction], I say yes," Talbott says. "Plays are about how each of us sees the world, so trusting the director is immensely important."
Along with a willingness to sincerely try any piece of direction, you have to have trust in your director. "Remember, they're sitting out there, and you're doing it, and sometimes you can't see everything," says Emily Ackerman of New York's the Civilians. "I've worked on shows when the director's vision didn't become clear until later, so you have to put in a certain amount of trust." Not that any actor wants to let directors off the hook. "It's the director's job to get the actors on board with their vision," Ackerman cautions. "And if they can't, then you [probably] have a bad director [or a] bad play."
Along with trying and trust, there's a third piece of the puzzle: communication. Sandri took a risk when he was in a play with a director who was so hands-on that in rehearsal actors couldn't get more than a few lines in without him interrupting. "It makes you schizy after a while," he says. A week into rehearsal, when Sandri hadn't yet had a chance to discuss his role, he said to the director before making his first entrance, "Here's what I'm thinking...." And the director said, "So, you're saying you don't want me to direct you?" "I thought, You asshole," says Sandri. But what Sandri said was, "No. But this is going to be a collaboration, isn't it?" The cast froze, there was a tension-filled pause, and the director finally said, "Yeah." Afterward, during a break, everyone in the cast thanked Sandri for his straightforwardness and audacity.
"Twice I've strongly disagreed with character stuff," Talbott adds. "After rehearsal I've gone up and said, 'Hey, I'm having a tough time with this.' Both directors were really perceptive and helped me understand it. It's about communication and respect." He advises trying the seemingly wrongheaded direction for a month and if it's still not working, talk to the director.
Sometimes actors can mistake arguing for honest communication. We've all been in plays where there's one actor who's constantly, to use Ackerman's word, filibustering. "You can get caught in a loop of arguing, and sometimes it can be helpful, but usually not," she says. "I've worked with actors who make it their job to resist. It makes the process unpleasant for everybody." But, she says, "If we're all respecting each other's artistic ability and creative process and input, then we do have a responsibility to try to communicate." That goes for directors and actors.
However, directors can get defensive and prickly if they feel they're being challenged by actors, especially in front of the rest of the cast. "Directors have egos like anyone else," comments Sandri. "Don't let it become personal, as in, 'Why the hell would you want me to do that?' Talk about it in terms of working out what is the best choice." He advises picking your questions carefully, because if you're constantly peppering directors with queries, they may feel you don't trust them. You especially don't want to bug them with questions you should be answering for yourself at home, such as "Why am I crossing here?" or "Why am I talking to this character?"
Larry Moss writes in The Intent to Live: Achieving Your True Potential as an Actor, "If you find you're always fighting authority or that you are interpreting direction as criticism...or constantly disagree with it, go to a good therapist...."
In her book The Film Director's Intuition: Script Analysis and Rehearsal Techniques, Judith Weston writes that when actors disagree with the director, an open discussion can work only if "there are no other agendas and both the director and actor are genuinely listening to each other." She adds that such discussions can be quite beneficial because sometimes a third idea can emerge and turn out to be the best one.
It's like relationships in general, says Sandri: "Have talks if you can." But he and the other actors agree that the fear is always that you'll be seen as a difficult actor, that maybe you'll never be hired again.
Bottom line: What do you do if you truly disagree with a piece of direction or character interpretation and just can't make it work? Basically, you suck it up and do it anyway. When Sandri really disagrees with a director, he thinks of a stronger choice for himself and writes it down—then he lets it go.
Talbott concludes, "The best directors ask you to do bold, insane things. If you can be open to all different ways of working, it makes you a better actor...and a better person."