Ouch, that Hurts so Good: The Tortured and the Torturing Artist

Ouch.

Just got one of those healthy, humbling kicks in the pants that reminds me of why some artists say they don't read reviews, and it's got me thinking about rejection in general. Artists of any sort get a lot of that ouchy stuff and the hurt is probably deeper the more of yourself you put into what ever it is that is getting shredded--be it a painting, a poem, a performance...

I can't remember any especially bad reviews as an actor, so most of the rejection I associate with acting would be audition-rejection--not getting the part--which is a daily staple for most actors. There are so many factors that go into casting, so that kind of rejection is really no statement about the talent or value of the actor as an artist... it's more of a matter of fitting in. I can deal with that.

Rejection of a script can be similar, but since it takes longer to create a script than it does to secure and drive to an audition, I think the blow to a writer is a little bit more personal. Writers, too, have to remember that often the rejection of a script is a matter of not fitting into the line-up or tastes of a particular production company at a particular time (that's not to say that a writer shouldn't also consider the fact that the script may still need work, or may actually belong in the trash).

The jolt I got today was neither of those types. It was a full frontal assault on the most personal piece of work I've ever done. It wasn't a simple "I didn't like it" or "It wasn't my kind of thing..." but rather: "This was the biggest disaster of the festival... if people are telling you nice things..they are being kind…not truthful."

I wrote, directed, and produced a piece that I knew wasn't for everyone. I knew I was taking a risk and that there was a chance that I would be the only one who "got it," but on the off chance that there were others out there, like me, who longed for this type of film, I made it. When I read that review, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. It was the bluntness of it that caught me off guard, though. I was raised on the Bambi philosophy of "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

Don't get me wrong--I'm as opinionated as the next person (okay, maybe even more so), but I do always try to balance the blow with some kindness, some benefit of the doubt, some personalization of the "maybe it's just me" type. And this reviewer seemed to truly HATE our film--enough to put the energy in to rattling off his/her longest review of any in the festival. I think the review was actually longer than my script!  [BTW, I found it interesting that he/she could dub something the "biggest disaster of the festival" so early in the line-up--there is a lot more to the festival than just the shorts. Who knows? there could be a 5 hour documentary on which direction one should hang a toilet paper roll! I do hope that Mr./Ms. Brave Anonymous Reviewer will expend the energy to come back and update the review if some later film manages to beat us out for the honor of the "biggest disaster"; however, since most reviews are basically hit-and-run, I don't expect and would be seriously shocked by such a courteous post script. But I can dream, can't I? I'll imagine the addendum of: "sorry, I spoke too soon; your film was actually the second worst disaster of the festival. It didn't suck as bad as _____." Ah, what relief!]

Before this review, I was already struggling with how to word my own comments on other films in the festival. I want to be constructive. I want to see filmmaking as a whole grow in artistic quality, but I also realize that much of appreciation is in the eye of the beholder. I want my words to encourage that which is universally good, beautiful, challenging, moving, entertaining and all that, but I also don't want to be a snob that derides things that I personally don't like just because it doesn't suit my particular taste. It's a scary thing to put your art out in front of others to be critiqued, but it's also daunting to be in the role of the one offering feedback. Sometimes I'm tempted to do neither and just crawl back into my cave and write. Sometimes I think I should become one of those artists who refuse to read the reviews and just create what they want to create... but I have a feeling I'll always be tempted to peek, and I'll always go through these emotional roller-coasters after doing so. To me it's part of being an artist. People don't walk down the street looking for artists to torture... it's something we do to ourselves. It may be painful for those who have to live with us to watch, but I think it does have some value in that it humbles us and it pushes us on to fight back--to reach even further next time.

"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.