The following is an excerpt from the new book Acting Class: Take a Seat by renowned acting teacher Milton Katselas, who passed away Oct. 24 at 75. Katselas directed more than 60 plays and eight feature films during his five-decade career. The founder of the Beverly Hills Playhouse in Beverly Hills and Los Feliz, Calif., Katselas worked with actors such as Al Pacino, Gene Hackman, Goldie Hawn, Christopher Walken, Kate Hudson, Alec Baldwin, George Clooney, Burt Reynolds, George C. Scott, Michelle Pfeiffer, James Cromwell, Giovanni Ribisi, Richard Burton, and Elizabeth Taylor.
Invalidate: To weaken, discredit, degrade, undermine another's actions or beliefs.
A wonderful actor was a smash on Broadway a number of years ago. His name was in all the papers. Everyone was talking about this hot young actor. They said he was emotional, great with the language, fiery temperament, on and on. So people would jam the hallways after the performance, going up to his dressing room to see him, even more than went to see the big star of the show. But he did not feel the way audiences did about his work, and that's putting it mildly. Do you know what he did at the end of each performance? He left the theatre as quickly as possible by the fire escape, avoiding everyone. I directed this actor years later. In our production, he was great in rehearsals: violent, emotional, powerful. Then his wife came to town, and he weakened measurably. Obviously, they had an unresolved problem. Then I thought about his Broadway story. And I felt the doubt, concern, and lack of confidence that was still holding him back from being all that he could be. He was a good actor, but not fulfilled. Not because of lack of craft or talent, but because he had not dealt with the problem with his wife and therefore the problem with his attitude.
Check it out. When you get a putdown, kicked in the butt by someone or yourself, check it out for these symptoms: you feel lost, dispersed, you don't want to rehearse, you get sick, you have no get-up-and-go, you have a fender-bender or you cut your finger while cooking, you hate class, your self-esteem is shot. The bottom has fallen out for you. Definitely check it out — this is the malaise of invalidation.
Self-invalidation is the worst. It's you doing yourself in. It's you creating something and then, like Pac-man, chewing it all up. It's the worst. Time and time again as a director, I have talked with actors in rehearsal, after a take in a film or in class — and they become Pac-man, chewing up their work and spitting it out. Be aware of self-invalidation as a real destroyer of what you want to achieve. The fact is that almost always, this self-invalidation was originated by somebody else, and you've taken it on as your own thought. For example, some past teacher, a real strong and authoritative type, might have said you were the least talented student ever, and now years later you are "invalidating yourself" by thinking how untalented you are. So take a look at what's going on and deal with the likelihood that someone is fucking with you, or did so in the past in a way that is still hanging over your head.
Step out and handle any opposition immediately. By opposition I mean a chronic situation. As I've mentioned before — I don't want to train fragile little creatures who scream "invalidation!" at every raised eyebrow or tiny bump from a casting person. You've got to have a tough skin to be in this business. But on the other hand, I've met many students who walk out of class each week into a cesspool of chronic negativity from roommates, romantic partners, family, employers. So you need to learn to recognize this situation and figure out how to resolve it. I like to say "I look for trouble, so that trouble doesn't find me." Resolving the matter can be as simple as a "Hey, knock it off — that doesn't help," or a more in-depth conversation (neutral ground is good — take them to lunch or coffee), and in the end, once you've really tried, you have the right to stop communicating with anyone who doesn't respond to what you need. Sometimes you discover the person, who gave you this wonderful invalidation you got in the past, and they're no longer around. They're dead. You know what I say? Go ahead and write a letter telling them what you needed. Don't send it. But writing it can often bring relief.
You don't have to live with chronic invalidation. One reason you have lived with it is that it's like a fur coat against failure. You wrap yourself in it and say, "They did it. They thwarted me." Or, like some TV preachers say, "God did it." Now, I've got nothing against religion, but I don't believe God did it. He is a very busy man indeed. I believe God says, "You do it. Take responsibility and do it." And then, if anything, God might add, "Put another rock in his way. If he climbs over that one, put a bigger one in his way. Okay, good, he made it; give him a carrot — maybe a guest star spot on some new television series."
To have a career, or even to finish any movie or play, you need a Herculean effort. You need to be a pro and finish. This can't be done if you're surrounded by voices chanting can't be done, already been done, shouldn't be done, they need a star name, you need an agent, they're not signing any new people, you're too young, you're too old, Uncle John was always the artist in the family — not you‌ Ad infinitum. Put-downs, doubts, unsupportive comments — like weeds, they grow as long as you let them. And they don't just go away by your wishing them away. They have to be pulled up by the roots. But please, use some charm and humor. One way or the other, you must put a stop to any invalidation around you. Like St. George, slay the dragon before it opens its mouth with a fiery burp and gobbles you up.
The Beverly Hills Playhouse will host two memorial services to honor the life and achievements of Milton Katselas. The New York event will take place at 11 a.m. Nov. 17 at the Actors' Playhouse, 100 Seventh Ave. S., New York. The Los Angeles event is at 11 a.m. Dec. 2 at the Directors Guild of America, 7920 Sunset Blvd., L.A. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to Katselas' nonprofit theatre company, Camelot Artists, 254 S. Robertson Blvd. Beverly Hills, CA 90211. For more information, call (310) 855-1556.
The book Acting Class: Take a Seat is available at www.actingclassbook.com.