Directing Screen Performances

Robert Klenner

• Publisher: Bloomsbury Academic
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781474249614
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Mezzi di comunicazione e arti performative
• Subtopic: Regia e produzione cinematografica

The core goal of Directing Screen Performances is to teach aspiring directors how to prepare and work with actors. Through a practical exploration of the major approaches to contemporary screen acting, you will learn how to formulate your own effective modes of communication to craft compelling performances. Directing performances for the screen starts well before the actor is cast and finishes well after the last slate is shot. In this book you will learn how to analyze a script, brief the casting director, rehearse the actors, decide on the visual treatment that enriches their performances, direct effectively on set and finesse the character in the edit. The director's process is clearly defined and augmented with illustrations, photographs and graphics, and each chapter concludes with practical exercises to consolidate the new knowledge.

1 The Director

The film director is first and foremost a storyteller. As such, he or she has to grip the viewers’ attention and guide them to create an experience in their own minds that entertains, inspires, and educates. You might say the same applies to a novelist or a short story writer. This is true, except the writer usually creates her book alone, sitting in front of a computer screen or writing longhand. The film director on the other hand has to deal with lots and lots of people to tell her story. Iron Man 3 reportedly had over 3,000 crew members, and Avatar had more than 200 people working in the art department alone! Even the most modest student film production involves the creative and technical contribution of several people, not counting the cast.

There is no science to directing actors—and non-actors for that matter. There are no rules or recipes that successful directors follow. Directors come from different social backgrounds: Buster Keaton was a vaudevillian; Krzysztof Kieślowski son of an engineer in provincial Poland; and Mike Leigh was born into anglicized Jewish intelligentsia. Directors follow different educational paths: Quentin Tarantino attended acting classes, Kathryn Bigelow studied fine arts, and Roman Polański completed the Łódz´ Film School. They each present a different approach to directing actors: Robert Bresson worked exclusively with amateurs; John Cassavetes believed that camera should be the slave to the actor; and Jane Campion creates an environment where it’s okay to fail.

It takes a special person to navigate all the creative egos in the process of constructing a cinematic story that is stylistically coherent, engages the viewers intellectually and viscerally, and, most importantly, makes them believe in and care for the film’s characters. Such a person is an effective leader, efficient communicator, has a unique creative voice, and is an expert storyteller. This chapter will investigate all these qualities. It will guide the reader to develop the set of skills necessary to effectively lead the production crew in order to be able to concentrate on the very core of film directing—working with actors.

Director as genius

In her 2009 TED (Technology, Entertainment and Design) talk, the author Elizabeth Gilbert, talked about the concept of genius. After her 2006 memoir Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman’s Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia became an international bestseller, she found that people were empathizing with her that she’d never be able to write another book matching the success of Eat, Pray. She recalled that when she announced, as a teenager, that she wanted to be a writer, people asked very similar questions—wasn’t she afraid she’d never have any success and the rejection would kill her? Yes, she was afraid as a teenager, and even more so as a star writer.

In order to stay alive and keep working, Gilbert decided she had to create some kind of protective psychological construct: a way of distancing herself as a writer from the anxiety she naturally had about the readers’ reaction to her new work. Searching across cultures and history for ways creative people managed the inherent emotional risks, she found out that in ancient Greece and ancient Rome people did not believe that creativity came from human beings. Creativity was a divine spirit that came to human beings from some unknown distant sphere. The Greeks called this spirit daemon and Romans genius. Genius would occasionally descend to an artist’s studio and assist in shaping the outcome of the artist’s work. That was Gilbert’s Eureka moment, the fruit of her quest—a legitimate psychological paradigm to protect the artist from the results of his or her work. Now Elizabeth Gilbert can’t be blamed if her consecutive books are not at the level of Eat, Pray nor can she take all the credit for the success of that book. It’s her collaborator genius that should share the glory but also take some of the blame. As simple as that (Gilbert, 2009).

Australian director Peter Weir shares similar sentiments. In his 2010 David Lean Lecture, Weir recalled his encounter with a Japanese master potter, Shigeo Shiga. Shiga contemplated the differences between the Japanese and Western artistic traditions. In Renaissance Europe, the role of religion as the focus of all cultural activities was somewhat diminished and the artist, rather than that artifact, became the hub of attention—a painter or a sculptor was elevated to the role of the demiurge. In Japan, it’s the opposite; first, it is pottery that takes center stage. “Secondly,” Shiga said, “you spend your lifetime as an apprentice. And you make utilitarian objects: bowls and cups and plates. And you make them with all the skills and craft you’ve acquired in the course of your learning. In the old days, you didn’t sign it. And as you make them, every now and again the gods will touch your hands. That will be a work of art” (Weir, 2010).

It might be worthwhile to define what we mean by creativity and talent, and what the connection between the two is. Do you have to be talented to be creative? Talent is understood as an intrinsic ability to do something really well, to excel in something. Mozart was a talented composer, Michelangelo was a talented sculptor, and Michael Fassbender is a talented actor. Creativity, on the other hand, is about using imagination and original ideas to create something that transcends existing rules or patterns. Creativity occurs when something new is brought into existence—be it technology, invention, or artistic treatment, things like the invention of the light bulb, Pablo Picasso’s contribution to the fine arts, or D. W. Griffith’s expansion of the language of film.

Talent and creativity are related but not interdependent; you can be very talented and not creative (think of the amount of talent that goes into creation of many a Hollywood blockbuster), and you can be creative while not being especially talented (Leo Fender, the inventor of the world’s most popular electric guitar, could not play the instrument).

Pablo Picasso noted that “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to stay an artist when you grow up” (Picasso, n.d.). Everyone is born curious about the world and eager to experiment. Children are naturally motivated, imaginative, embrace challenge, and are open to new experiences. These are all qualities of a creative person. It is only when they enter formal education, with its emphasis on standardization, that some of these qualities fade. But the good news is that the creative muscles can be strengthened through practice.

How do you revive the creativity of your inner child?

Curiosity

Curiosity about the world around us is a good starting point. A preschooler asks about 100 questions a day. You should cultivate curiosity—question, and be surprised by things you see, hear, or read about. Open wide your eyes and ears—watch and see, and listen and hear. These abilities will be crucial in the rehearsal room and on set.

Quanti...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half-Title Page
• Title Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• 1 The Director
• 2 The Actor
• 3 Pre-production
• 4 Production
• 5 Post-production
• Conclusion
• Sources
• Plates
• Copyright