I started acting in high school, doing theater. Back in the 80's while I was doing "Arsenic and Old Lace" and "The Importance of Being Earnest" in my early high school years, I was absolutely hooked. This is what I wanted to do. This is what I wanted to be for the rest of my life. When I went into college first as a film major, I still did theater. Community theater, yes, but it was still theater. My love of acting (and therefore, theater) overrode my desire to be the next Woody Allen or Stanley Kubrick, so I switched majors and went full-tilt into getting my acting degree. Well, to be honest, it was a Theater Degree with an Acting Concentration. I did some short films as well, but I didn't really have that much of a clue what really acting on camera meant. Sure, I had my ideas and opinions (and what self-important college student doesn't), but hey, I was doing theater! It was the lifeblood of culture! It's where acting started! It's storytelling! It's history!
After I graduated college, I did theater in Chicago; to be specific, non-Equity theater. For the uninitiated, that means it's non-Union... and usually means it pays very little to none. Usually none. Still, I paid my dues and acted, with eyes on getting an agent and then getting my own sitcom. I mean, look at me: I'm funny, non-threatening and approachable. Why wouldn't I? So, I started getting a few local commercials and some short films and then one bigger film. I was taking some Acting for the Camera classes and I kept getting the same note: you're funny, but you're too big. I'd see the footage of my reads in class, and there I was, playing to the back of the house when the camera is right there. This continued for a while when Tom and I moved out here to LA. Commercially speaking, I was doing okay, but TV/Film-wise? Not so much.
I was so theater-oriented that I couldn't help but be larger. So, I had to completely reorient myself to playing for the camera. I had to rein it in. The problem was at the time, I had a really hard time in gauging where to pull it back to. How far back was too far back? So, my first few years here in LA, I felt like Grover from Sesame Street. I was far:
The feedback I'd receive in my first couple years here was that I was "too green". Not used to being on camera, too theater. I would ask teacher after teacher how to adjust myself and they kept being vague. "Jon, just be connected to what you were doing, and you'll be fine." There's a phrase people use: "The camera never blinks." It means that you can't BS your way through something. If you aren't being real even for a second, the camera picks it up. So, I adjusted. I got smaller, and the camera got close. I was near.
Eventually, I got it. I felt when I was being too big and when I was being too small. I could tell (usually) when I was being too big. Sometimes, I'll get excited and caught up in the moment, and then my old habits kick in and I'm being too big. But then, I can reign it back in. Usually. The problem I had was I thought it knew it all. Oh, film? I got this. Oh TV? Please. The fact is I didn't. I was cocky, and didn't really apply myself. After a while, I did get it together. I'm a lot better than I was and I know I'll be even better as I get older.
My cockiness has been rearing its ugly head in my new voiceover class. I was thinking "Acting is acting, I got this. I just need to know how the mic works." You can see where this is going, right? We're starting out with simple radio commercials, spots where simplicity works best. And of course, I was attacking these like they were French farces. My teacher was like "Whoa, okay, let's do that again and make it believable" or "Jon, imagine you're just talking to just one person." My wounded sensitive ego got offended, but then my rational brain kicked in and dialed it down. I got near again, and then nailed the reads.
It's funny. Acting is acting is acting. Whether you are doing Shakespeare or Shaw, a dramatic film or a quirky comedy, a Jergens commercial or a radio VO spot, the structure is the same. You have intentions, wants, needs, moment befores. Those are all the same. How you facilitate each one is different. Your execution of Oedipus will be very different from a second lead on a sitcom, which would be very different from an Applebee's commercial. That's what always amazes me. In each case, I'm Grover, running back and forth between near and far, then coming to a comfortable spot... usually near.
After I graduated college, I did theater in Chicago; to be specific, non-Equity theater. For the uninitiated, that means it's non-Union... and usually means it pays very little to none. Usually none. Still, I paid my dues and acted, with eyes on getting an agent and then getting my own sitcom. I mean, look at me: I'm funny, non-threatening and approachable. Why wouldn't I? So, I started getting a few local commercials and some short films and then one bigger film. I was taking some Acting for the Camera classes and I kept getting the same note: you're funny, but you're too big. I'd see the footage of my reads in class, and there I was, playing to the back of the house when the camera is right there. This continued for a while when Tom and I moved out here to LA. Commercially speaking, I was doing okay, but TV/Film-wise? Not so much.
I was so theater-oriented that I couldn't help but be larger. So, I had to completely reorient myself to playing for the camera. I had to rein it in. The problem was at the time, I had a really hard time in gauging where to pull it back to. How far back was too far back? So, my first few years here in LA, I felt like Grover from Sesame Street. I was far:
The feedback I'd receive in my first couple years here was that I was "too green". Not used to being on camera, too theater. I would ask teacher after teacher how to adjust myself and they kept being vague. "Jon, just be connected to what you were doing, and you'll be fine." There's a phrase people use: "The camera never blinks." It means that you can't BS your way through something. If you aren't being real even for a second, the camera picks it up. So, I adjusted. I got smaller, and the camera got close. I was near.
Eventually, I got it. I felt when I was being too big and when I was being too small. I could tell (usually) when I was being too big. Sometimes, I'll get excited and caught up in the moment, and then my old habits kick in and I'm being too big. But then, I can reign it back in. Usually. The problem I had was I thought it knew it all. Oh, film? I got this. Oh TV? Please. The fact is I didn't. I was cocky, and didn't really apply myself. After a while, I did get it together. I'm a lot better than I was and I know I'll be even better as I get older.
My cockiness has been rearing its ugly head in my new voiceover class. I was thinking "Acting is acting, I got this. I just need to know how the mic works." You can see where this is going, right? We're starting out with simple radio commercials, spots where simplicity works best. And of course, I was attacking these like they were French farces. My teacher was like "Whoa, okay, let's do that again and make it believable" or "Jon, imagine you're just talking to just one person." My wounded sensitive ego got offended, but then my rational brain kicked in and dialed it down. I got near again, and then nailed the reads.
It's funny. Acting is acting is acting. Whether you are doing Shakespeare or Shaw, a dramatic film or a quirky comedy, a Jergens commercial or a radio VO spot, the structure is the same. You have intentions, wants, needs, moment befores. Those are all the same. How you facilitate each one is different. Your execution of Oedipus will be very different from a second lead on a sitcom, which would be very different from an Applebee's commercial. That's what always amazes me. In each case, I'm Grover, running back and forth between near and far, then coming to a comfortable spot... usually near.
Wow - Deepness with Sesame Street! Great post and interesting insight!
Posted by: Jen Pearlman | July 30, 2009 at 06:34 PM