Theater: You're cast. You receive the script and pour over it and learn your lines. You have your first rehearsal where you meet the director, cast and oftentimes staff members who work at the theater. Designers make presentations on their work and you discover what you'll wear and what the set looks like. You do a read through and even though you're prepared it never goes that well. But you got it out of the way, that gunky, clunky first try. You spend three to four weeks, six days a week, four to eight hours a day to talk about the scene, block it and rehearse it. You have a designer run after a few weeks and any comfort you felt with the play dissolves in front of an audience. But you get through it and leave that hurdle behind. Certain scenes get more attention than others as you refine and iron out the work. Finally you take it to the theater, where again you have to get the gunk out and readapt to new surroundings. Tech is integrated and it's slow moving. With every run of the show a few more people are in the audience and you get more and more comfortable. Finally you have your first official audience, be it a preview or opening night. There's exhilaration and nerves, but you've prepared and dissected for months so you're ready for it. You continue to explore and refine your performance over the weeks of the run, culminating in your last chance to "get it right," closing night, and you end your run.
Film: You're cast. You either get your scenes or the entire script, which you pour over and learn your lines. You explore the different scenarios of the scene, making guesses as to where the furniture will be and what the scene will
feel like. Suddenly, it's your first day of shooting where you're called to the set, you get your hair and makeup done, and you head to your trailer. Perhaps they bring you some food or coffee, perhaps they don't. Perhaps you've met the person you'll be sharing the scene with, perhaps you haven't. Mainly, you wait. And wait. And wait some more. You try to relax and focus and go over your scene as many times as possible because you never know when they'll call you over. You're eventually summoned to the set for a rehearsal, which is not really about acting but about technical logistics such as where to place the camera and how to get the lighting just right. Your stand-ins take your spot so you can go change and prepare back in your trailer. You go over your scene as many times as you can, justifying the choices the director or cinematographer has made for you based upon the needs of the shot. Pick up this glass here, lean on your elbow here, making sure you do it at the same moment every time for continuity. You are summoned back to set where you take your positions and have last minute discussions. You shoot the scene in one or two takes, still trying to get a grasp on everything you're doing because they're moving
so fucking fast. Next thing you know it's over. You hear, "We got it" and they're moving on to the next scene. It all feels vaguely unsatisfying and confusing, like a post-coitus with one night stand. (I've never actually had a one night stand, but I can imagine what it feels like).

Such was the case yesterday during filming. This was my third day on set and I had already learned a lot and I was feeling more and more comfortable with the camera. But yesterday was my "big" scene, the most important scene of the entire movie...for me. It was a bedroom scene where I'm consoling my wife over the recent loss of her mother. I had my lines down and I was prepared. We did a few rehearsals, but rather than discussing things like
action and
what's happening, it was largely about blocking and whittling the scene down. Words were changed and sentences were altered so many times it was difficult to remember what to say from take to take.
The director worked with me a lot, shouting out commands and manipulating my every move, which I couldn't help but feel was a condemnation of my performance. He spent time working with Amanda too, but it felt more like a collaboration. Maybe it's because she's a more seasoned film actor or maybe because she''s a "name" and one of the reasons this film is even getting made. I felt like he was picking up on my inexperience and passive demeanor, so I wish I had brought a more confident approach to the set.
It will be interesting to see what it ends up looking like in the final cut. I'm satisfied enough with the scene and I don't know how I would've done it differently. But I always want to feel like I
nailed it and it didn't feel that way. But considering this was my first real film scene, a camera right in my face and tons of people hovering around, it could've gone much worse. I could've been been too self conscious and unable to focus. I could've let the pressure get to me and let that familiar laughter bubble up. But that didn't happen. I give props to Amanda for helping me stay in it. She was fully present and that really made a difference.
The moment was strong and it felt real and organic. Natural.
Now hopefully it makes the cut so I can see what it looks like and continue to learn from the experience.
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