ON THE OPINION OF A WRITER

So, the viewing marathon is over and my ballot has been cast.

I'm looking forward to seeing which performances my peers will select as the best of the year in the 18th Annual Screen Actors Guild Awards. I've been eligible to vote all 18 years. That's a lot of years of keeping my dues current even when I've not been acting, but I keep it up because I never officially quit acting -- I've just been on a very prolonged maternity leave.

For those who don't know my story, like so many other starry-eyed young girls, I came to Hollywood intending to act. My road to stardom, however, quickly became very bumpy. Literally. Bumpy. Within weeks of arriving, I contracted my first of five consecutive major bumps.

Concealing an ever-growing "Baby Bump" while running to call-backs for roles like one recurring character who was supposed to be a skinny model was one thing, but after the colicky child arrived making it to any audition, rehearsal, or performance became next to impossible. It had all happened too quickly. Without extended family or resources to pay for babysitters, I could not go on auditions, and without going on auditions one can not get cast, and thus, can not act. I'm not complaining. That derailment ended up bringing me back to an earlier love -- writing. That was something I could do at home and I didn't need to hire babysitters nearly as often.

Over the past 18 years, I've come to look at movies from a much more writerly perspective. While I love a great performance, it is usually the story that that I find myself analyzing and celebrating most when it is well done. (And I would argue that actors rarely win "Best Actor" awards alone, but rather in partnership with well-written scripts.) Because of this, I have to really slow myself down when faced with the question of which film to choose for the "Outstanding Performance by a Cast" award. I have to remind myself that this award is not about the story, it's about the acting. This is such a collaborative art that the dissection is not always as easy as it might seem.

Watching all of these great performances does give me the itch to get back into that form of creative expression again, but I may have to wait a bit longer to do that. I'm still overseeing the education of three of my kids, and dedicating a lot of time to writing. I want to be Superwoman and juggle it all at once, but the truth is, I'm not. For now, I'm a writer and mom (or perhaps I should say "mom and writer" -- priorities always affect perspective.) Acting and painting (and traveling the world, not to mention keeping a clean house) will have to remain on hold.

All that said, I view my SAG screeners as an actor, and I view them as a writer. And I celebrate when both sides are pleased. Although, I would say this was far from the best year I have seen for performances paired with stories that blow me away, there were several celebration-worthy nominees. The Help easily won my vote for "Outstanding Performance by a Cast" and is (not surprisingly) also a "Best Picture" Academy Award nominee.

Personally, I found The Artist delightful, and yet I heard one Hollywood outsider say, "Oh brother! Not another film about making films! How self-indulgent can these filmmakers be?" It's a worthy (and fiscally necessary) challenge to strive for objectivity and to try to see films as those who are not in the industry might see them.

Then there are all those films about characters who happen to be writers -- sometimes they work and sometimes they do seem self-indulgent. Is the writer only being lazy and writing about what he or she does in order to avoid research? I do find myself wondering what non-writers think of these movies.

Whether a person is in a "creative profession" or not, however, we all do create -- we create the lives we live and the environments we inhabit; some create fantasy worlds so elaborately detailed that they even deceive themselves; we create relationships and networks of relationships (and sometimes we destroy them); we create harmony and disharmony.... Because creativity is at the core of what all people do in the living of life, I think stories about writers and artists, if done well, can embody that creativity (which is rather abstract) in a metaphor that resonates well beyond the surface of the storyline of a certain character and his profession.

Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris was one of this year's films that did that well. The competition did not allow for me to cast my vote for it to get a SAG award, but I am glad to see that it received some Oscar nominations. It is a good story that I wouldn't mind watching again... and the writer in me absolutely loved this little exchange:

GIL: Would you read it?

ERNEST HEMINGWAY: Your novel?

GIL: Yeah, it's like 400 pages long and I'm just looking 

just for, you know, just an opinion. 

ERNEST HEMINGWAY: My opinion is I hate it. 

GIL: I mean, you haven't even read it. 

ERNEST HEMINGWAY: If it's bad I'll hate it because I hate 

bad writing. If it’s good, I'll be envious and hate it 

all the more. You don't want the opinion of another 

writer. 

(from Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris, 2011)

"Acting Out" in Desperation

I got into a conversation today about actors. My daughter and I are producing a short film together. This is Grace's first time as a producer. At eighteen years of age, she still looks young. Most girls her age trying to get in movies are pursuing the dream of being ON camera, not behind the camera--especially when they are as good looking as she is (and I'm not being biased, it's a fact.) Anyway, as she manned the door of our call back room: checking in actors, handing out sides, getting them to fill out paperwork, and dealing with those who grew impatient waiting, she was occasionally mistaken for an actress cutting in line. A few waiting actors, in their weariness from waiting, were rude to Grace. She's good-natured and didn't let it get to her, but what she really noticed was the sudden shift in how she was treated when some of these actors learned her title, "producer." This lesson is not unique. I learned it a few years ago when I first took on the "powerful" role, and I've heard countless other producers share their memories of the first time they noticed actors "kissing up to" them in hopes of getting cast.

Well, when I shared this tidbit with an actress friend who I know strives to be real and kind and respectful of everyone, she expressed embarrassment over the behavior I described, saying: "A sad testimony to our 'race' -actors!!" I love her humble attitude, and I've seen that same beautiful humility in many other actors. In fact, during the previous days' auditions, I had interviewed almost every actor who came in, asking questions about WHY they wanted to act and what it was that kept them in it. Not one person said a word about fame or getting attention. Instead they would come alive talking about how wonderful it is to get to understand what it would be like to be someone else. What they spoke of, even if they didn't have the word for it, was empathy. I know that from my acting days, and it's something that keeps us writers going too. Empathy is that something that fosters connections that are deeper than surface, and I believe its something that many creative-types thirst for more than the average person--a driving force.

That's why I went on to tell my friend that I think actors are wonderful people... They may be annoying at times, but *anyone* in a state of desperation can fall prey to self-defense mechanisms that are blind to the needs of others. We all have to guard against that. Most actors have a hunger for that "getting inside the skin of another person" which can lead to a very positive sense of empathy. Ah, but that desperation is always lurking... It's complicated, like everything else. I think actors amplify life, both on screen/stage and off. They amplify the good and they amplify the not-so-good. They amplify that which is noble in human beings and that which is base and even downright destructive. It's important for an actor to be able to get into all sorts of characters, and in the process of fighting for those roles that can be so few and far between, they sometimes forget about feeding the "character" that represents them as real-life persons. That is one of my passions when it comes to working with actors--to help them discover the connection between creating characters through tapping into empathy and creating *character* that is truly empathetic--to help them discover how their career can be a ministry to the hearts of their audience and to the people they deal with day-to-day as they learn to be truth-seers, truth-tellers, and truth-be-ers.

Yes, I've been annoyed by the pandering of some actors. But, yes, I can empathize with actors--I've been there and I know what that desperation is like. Those outside of the profession who look at actors as vain and shallow would do well to consider what it would be like to be in a career that requires a person to re-apply for the job over and over and over again, being rejected the majority of the time, sometimes for reasons as silly as wearing the wrong shoe size. It's quite a sacrifice to go through the rollercoaster of emotional highs and lows, of rejection and adoration followed by more rejection, and for what? Is it a selfish endeavor? No, most storytellers, whether it be the writer or the actor or the director or any of the many team-members it takes to make a film, most of these people do what they do because they really want to make a difference in the lives of others. This is the way that they can most effectively communicate, and their desire to communicate is a compulsion that often even overrides their own well-being. For that reason, I would encourage anyone who is judgmental of actors to try on a little empathy. It's something we all could use a bit more of.