I saw Annie Baker's The Flick over the weekend and haven't been able to stop thinking about it. At the risk of sounding hyperbolic, I've never seen anything like it. It was a true masterclass.
As I am wont to do, I read a number of reviews and articles about The Flick. I'm not surprised by how kind of polarizing the play was in New York over two runs. Despite it being an American play, it feels like a natural aesthetic for the National Theatre. But I also wanted to know more about the cast-- specifically the two Americans (of only four actors in the play) who originated the roles of Sam and Rose (kind of coincidental that I'm studying Variations on a Theme this term!). Matthew Maher played Sam and was just... well again, I've just never seen anything like his performance. It was clear he had a repaired cleft palate and in the play spoke with a speech impediment indicative of that procedure. But Drew and I were both unsure was to whether his impediment was at all exaggerated for the role because he spoke all at once with such clarity-- yet the whistles and lisps were predictably unpredictable the way a cleft palate impediment would be, so I just couldn't tell. Come to find out, in his actor training he has apparently worked with speech therapists and consciously decided not to improve his impediment too much. He says his scar and his speech are the reason he precisely the reason why he is having the career he has. I would also argue that he's an objectively fine actor as well, who is so in tune with his voice and his body that he uses every aspect of his voice absolutely to his advantage. I could not believe the creative emphasis he would place on seemingly simple and innocuous lines, placing the emphasis or pitch or effort to physically say a word just so. It's the kind of thing I have a hard time describing but will certainly remember the experience of hearing.
But the play wasn't just an acting masterclass-- it was a true study on living in the moment and not "playing" a pause.
There were so many pauses. "Pause" isn't even the right word for it. So much air for the play to breathe-- but not too much. It was 3 hours 15 minutes with interval and actually relatively little dialogue, and the audience spent a majority of the play watching the characters sweep popcorn and clean a movie theater. But the pauses were never forced-- never "played". They were so truthful and lived by the actors. I was never anxious for the (minimal) action to continue. And entire scene took place with an empty stage as we waited for the characters to reach the projector room on the set, where we watched their torsos (and only occasionally their faces) in silence behind sound-proof glass as they loaded the movie projector and started a film playing. It was stunning. The character Avery had a simply beautiful monologue in the form of a phone conversation and the time he took to let his therapist "reply" on the other end was so engaging and lovely. It truly felt like he was listening to something and I didn't even need to hear the other side of the conversation. His cut-off replies as he hesitated to speak or didn't want to interrupt, as one does when they're actually on a phone call, were so accurate. It didn't seem like acting at all.
I'm just so inspired going back to rehearsals for The Veil having experienced The Flick because I feel like I'm much better able to judge the same kind of living silence that Simon has been sometimes directing us to do. I hesitate to suggest my entire cohort need to see it to understand what we need to work toward. I frankly don't know that we'd all be able to live (not play) such pauses in our play without indulgence or too much action. The whole point is to avoid "playing" a silence. I'm not sure I can do it either! But I do feel so much more equipped to be sensitive to and unfearful of a silence as an actor having experienced The Flick, and prepared to make bigger risks in rehearsal.
And meanwhile marvel how lucky I am to have been able to see that play at all!
http://www.londontheatre.co.uk/londontheatre/news/ltg16/matthewmahertheflick16.htm
No comments:
Post a Comment