The Vs. Studio Blog

A prior post was about sunk costs. They deal with the past.

We should also be aware of opportunity costs. They deal with the future.

In microeconomic theory, the opportunity cost is the loss of value or benefit that would be incurred (the cost) by engaging in an activity or choosing an option, versus/relative to engaging in the alternative activity or choosing the alternative option that would offer the highest return in value or benefit.

Put more simply, when you decide to do something, be aware of all the other things you won’t be able to do as a result of your choice. That’s opportunity cost.

We can apply this to making art.

If you decide to do a passion project and go all in, realize all the other things you’re giving up. Things you won’t be doing as a result of your decision. Don’t let that paralyze you. Just be aware. If after bringing awareness to this fact, you still feel that engaging in this project will bring you more value (I don’t mean monetarily, although that could be part of it. But really personal value, artistic value, psychological value, etc… ) than doing any of those other things, (or not doing anything at all) then it’s worth it. Go for it. Feel great about your choice.

One of the most brilliant pieces of acting advice I ever received was this:

“The frustration is the acting.”

All the stuff that happens in between your next line–often the opposite of what you want as the character, yet are feeling deeply–is riveting to watch and super fun to play.

No one exemplifies this more than Jackie Gleason in The Honeymooners. Watch this clip here. (Or really, every single episode.)

Yes it’s great to be the champion.

But you know what’s even greater?

To champion someone else. Or cause. Or organization. Or piece of art you really believe in.

Who or what can you champion today?

“I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.” -Joan Didion

Playwrights…

Leave your thesis statements behind. Don’t try to prove anything. Don’t know where you’re going.

Instead, know your characters inside and out. Put them in a room and get ’em talking. Trust them and the power of your subconscious to illuminate the way.

There’s a famous acting adage that goes: “The more interested you are, the more interested we are.” This is why we can endlessly watch babies at play. Or people fully engaged in their work (aka “flow”). Even the old man feeding the pigeons in the park can be captivating. (This is why authentic behavior on stage or screen is an absolute must. Another post for another time.)

The same holds true when it comes to the element of surprise. For your acting and your writing.

The more you can surprise yourself with what just happened, the feeling of “Where in the world did that come from?”, the more surprised we will be.

And guess what?…When we’re surprised, that means you’re unpredictable.

And when you’re unpredictable that means we’re riveted. Because we have no idea and can’t wait to see what happens next.

And when that happens, you’ve got us right where you want us. Open, alert and ready to receive whatever it is you have to offer.

Go make your surprising art.

There’s a lot of interest today on the topic of morning routines. It’s a frequent podcast question. There are several books devoted solely to it. Lots of social media around it.

And understandably so. It makes intuitive sense to get your day off to a good start. After all…You are the power plant.

What gets less attention but might actually be more important, is your evening routine. Especially because a good evening routine can both unlock the power of the subconscious and lead to a better night’s rest. Which is vital to your energy and your artistic creativity. Ryan Holiday, an author I’ve recommended prior, especially his books on Stoicism, just put out a great article on evening routines. You can read it here.

As with any routines, trial and error is key. One size does not fit all. Pick and choose what you think might work for you and your lifestyle, and give it a shot. Try it out for a month or so. If it works, great. Keep it. If not, try something else.

And if you have some good morning or evening routines/practices you wish to share, I am all ears!

A most generous act you can do for a friend and fellow actor is to think of a role(s) they’d be great in and tell them. Call them up and ask, “Hey, have you every thought of playing (insert role and play)? You’d be awesome in it! Here’s why….”

This is actually an assignment we do in our Vs. Producing Workshop. We often don’t see ourselves the way others see us. It’s powerful when someone else “casts” us in a part.

(You can also do this for your director friends. Recommend a play they should read and consider for directing.)

Bonus points if you buy the play and mail it to them.

And if you find yourself on the receiving end of this generosity, please, PLEASE, get the play, read it immediately and no matter what you thought of it, call that person up and thank them profusely for thinking of you.

“The fact is always obvious much too late, but the most singular difference between happiness and joy is that happiness is a solid and joy a liquid.” -J.D. Salinger, Nine Stories

“I’m going to need all of you. Put your embarrassment in a box and set that box on fire, when I clap you clap.” -John Kolvenbach, Stand Up If You’re Here Tonight

The epigraph to J.D. Salinger’s Nine Stories is the Venerable Master Hakuin’s famous Zen Koan:

“We know the sound of two hands clapping. But what is the sound of one hand clapping?

The answer?

Well, that’s entirely up to you.

Hint: Don’t worry about coming up with an answer. Just sit with it for a while. Like all koans, allow it to break through your logical thought and reasoning, both of which are responsible for attachment and subsequent suffering.

“Telemachos saw Athene and went straight to the forecourt, the heart within him scandalized that a guest should still be standing at the doors. He stood beside her and took her by the right hand, and relieved her of the bronze spear, and spoke to her and addressed her in winged words: ‘Welcome, stranger. You shall be entertained as a guest among us. Afterward, when you have tasted dinner, you shall tell us what your need is.’…And he led her and seated her in a chair, with a cloth to sit on, the chair splendid and elaborate.” -Homer, The Odyssey

“Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” -Fred Rogers

On the cusp of the 20th anniversary of 9/11, yes we will reflect on the horrible tragedy that occurred, but we should also remember the many remarkable acts of heroism and kindness that transpired. One such act has to do with the tiny town of Gander, Newfoundland. The population is roughly 10,000, but on that fateful day it nearly doubled. Why?

Gander airport marks the closest point between Europe and the U.S. and is a preferred emergency landing spot for medical and other emergencies. Tons of extra planes from nearly 100 countries, filled with anxiety-ridden passengers, landed there on 9/11. The town immediately rushed into action providing food, clothing, shelter, medicine, etc…and all kinds of comfort to the stranded passengers. You can read more about it here.

The story also became a Broadway musical, “Come From Away”, and the filmed version launches tomorrow on Apple TV. Charles McNulty of the Los Angeles Times wrote an insightful article about the musical which you can read here.

Give it a watch. Let me know what you think.

And on those dark days when you despair and feel there’s not much good in the world, remember Gander. Remember all the heroes of 9/11. Remember all the heroes throughout history as well as the ones working in the world today. Often behind the scenes with no fanfare or recognition. Just going about their business, being kind, being helpful, doing their job, with a quiet dignity and purpose.

Lastly, remember the advice of Marcus Aurelius…”Don’t waste time arguing what a good [person] should be. Be one.”

“So we struggle and we stagger
Down the snakes and up the ladder
To the tower where the blessed hours chime
And I swear it happened just like this:
A sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
The gates of love they budged an inch
I can’t say much has happened since
But closing time.” -Leonard Cohen, Closing Time

“Closing time, every new beginning
Comes from some other beginning’s end.” -Semisonic, Closing Time

When is it time to close the run of a show?

Assuming this is a passion project and that you’re acting and producing it, I’d say there are two things to think about: (And take it week by week if you can.)

(1) As the ACTOR…Have I fully mined everything from this character? Have I gone as deep as I can? Am I still willing to do the necessary hard work to stay sharp each week and fully invest myself in this character and play? Do I still feel joy?

(2) As the PRODUCER…Am I still willing to do the grinding work of getting people to see the show? Am I willing to continue putting myself out there? Keep risking my emotional energy that no one shows up? Also, how does everyone in the ensemble and crew feel? Are they still excited to show up each week?

If the answer to either of these categories and questions is no, it’s time to close. You’ll know. You’ll feel it.

And one last piece of advice, it’s always better to close a little early than a little late. Go out with a bang. Not a whimper.