Two things the world badly needs right now (and will always need)…
Leadership.
2. Solving interesting problems.
When you produce something you’re passionate about, you get to deliberately practice both things. And like any skill, the more you do, the better you get.
What are you waiting for? If not for yourself, how about for the world?
Actor Matthew McConaughey talked a little about his process on a recent Marc Maron podcast. He mentioned finding a “lock in line” somewhere in the script. This is a word or phrase that unearths the character for him. It’s his “way in.”
This is good acting advice which can also be applied to finding your “why” for producing a script. We often struggle, especially at first with coming up with our why. At least putting it into words. We just “feel” we have to do this thing. Nothing wrong with that. But as I’ve mentioned throughout this blog, having a strong why helps us in many ways. It gives us a solid base to return to in the inevitable moments of struggle and self doubt. To remind ourselves, “Oh yeah, this is why I’m doing this.” It helps us convey our enthusiasm to other artists we wish to enlist. And it helps us get the word out when our work is done and ready to be viewed.
To find our why, maybe look no further than the actual script. Maybe it’s a monologue or a scene or a sentence or even a single moment that just lights us up. Lock in to that.
“Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself less.” -C.S. Lewis
“All streams flow to the sea because it is lower than they are. Humility gives it its power.” –Tao Te Ching, Translation by Stephen Mitchell
I was in an Oceanside vintage store looking at gifts for a friend. Minutes before, I received a lovely note about that day’s blog post. I was feeling pretty good about myself. Then I turned a corner in the store and spotted the above sign. I laughed out loud and instantly knew I had to buy it.
The sign now resides next to my desk. It’s a wonderful reminder of humility and that everything sucks. Meaning that whatever art we’re trying to make…be it a blog post, a poem, a painting, working on a character, etc…it sucks.
At first.
But if we’re passionate about it and have a strong why, if we care enough to stick it out, keep grinding, to slog away and be our own toughest critic, eventually…
It won’t.
P.S. – And what if after all that, others still think our art sucks?…That’s okay. We did the best we possibly could. We can always live with that.
“There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.” -Shakespeare, Hamlet
Like any great script, there will be all kinds of unexpected twists and turns along your producing journey. Try not to label them as good or bad events. They just are what they are. And your job is to flow, to move through each one of them with grace. Until the final outcome.
A great story from the Huai Nan Tzu reinforces this concept…
A poor farmer’s horse ran off into the country of the barbarians. All his neighbors offered their condolences, but his father said, “How do you know that this isn’t good fortune?” After a few months the horse returned with a barbarian horse of excellent stock. All his neighbors offered their congratulations, but his father said, “How do you know this isn’t a disaster?”. The two horses bred, and the family became rich in fine horses. The farmer’s son spent much of his time riding them; one day he fell off and broke his hipbone. All his neighbors offered the farmer their condolences, but his father said, “How do you know that this isn’t good fortune?” Another year passed, and the barbarians invaded the frontier. All the able-bodied young men were conscripted, and nine-tenths of them died in the war. Thus good fortune can be disaster and vice versa. Who can tell how events will be transformed?
“What we’ve got here…is failure to communicate.” -Captain in the film Cool Hand Luke
“Communication breakdown, it’s always the same. Havin’ a nervous breakdown, a-drive me insane.” -Led Zeppelin from their song Communication Breakdown
A central theme in any drama or comedy is the characters inability to communicate with one another. That leads to conflict which makes for interesting viewing.
Just like in real life, there are many reasons for the characters communication breakdown. Ego, not knowing what they want, not being in touch with their emotions, being afraid to speak up, assuming your message was delivered, etc…
As a producer, you must be an excellent communicator. You must OVER COMMUNICATE. Early, often and throughout. Be super clear with what you want and your expectations of others. Set reasonable deadlines. Don’t assume your email did the job. Pick up the phone and also call the person. Meet with them when you can. Have empathy. Try to put yourself in the other artist’s shoes. How would you receive your message if you were them?
Like most things, communication is a skill that you can dramatically improve with desire and practice. And there’s no better way to practice than diving in and manifesting your passion project. You’ll grow tremendously as a communicator (you’ll be forced to) and be ready and sharper for your next one.
If culture is the story we all agree on, then it makes sense that in order to change the culture, we need to tell a different story.
That starts with ourselves. To “be the change we wish to see in the world” as Ghandi advised, let’s first make sure the narrative running in our head is an empowering one.
Think back on your life, the events that shaped you. Was there are a moment or key moments that made you who you are? Who you aspire to be?
Go tell that story.
P.S. – For a deeper dive on this topic, check out Seth Godin’s podcast episode Here. He tells a great origin story.
My favorite question to ask a fellow artist (and one someday for the Vs. Studio podcast): “What production, either one you were in or saw, made a significant impact on you? And why?”
Following up my most recent post about August Wilson’s Jitney, I’d be remiss if I didn’t discuss another giant personal takeaway from that show.
It was 2006. I was producing and acting in Brett Neveu’s Eric LaRue for Vs. at the Elephant Theatre (now Sacred Fools Theatre). In the same building, at the Lilian Theatre, was Jitney. Every night there was a big line of people to see it and the buzz afterward was electric. One of their producers, Alan Naggar, was always there to greet and thank the audience for coming. (Alan passed away a couple of years ago. He was a friend and a great actor and producer.) One night Alan and I struck up a conversation outside the Lilian, under the streetlights. He had heard good things about our show and planned to see it. He also invited me to see Jitney when our run ended.
I took him up on his offer and was…poleaxed. Everything about Jitney was first rate–the acting, the direction, the set, the costumes, the lighting, the sound design, I mean EVERYTHING–you could see and feel just how much love and care went into the show. When I got home I told my wife how phenomenal it was. And in the ensuing days I reached out to everyone in Vs. and other colleagues and told them they HAD to see it. I went back many times, bringing people with me each time. I found my lodestar. While I was very proud of the work we were doing, THIS was on another level. THIS was where I wanted Vs. to go.
One night Alan introduced me to the cast, including the actor who was also a producer. I peppered the actor with questions. Showered him with praise. He patiently and thoroughly answered everything and received my compliments with true grace and humility. When he left, Alan told me a secret…The actor didn’t have all the money to pay for this production. But because he was so passionate about the part and the play, the actor, who was also married with a new baby, had taken out a second mortgage on his home.
“Whoa.”
I vowed right then and there that Vs. wouldn’t produce another play unless it was something we absolutely loved. Something we HAD to do…Two years later, after numerous appeals to get the rights, we produced John Kolvenbach’s On An Average Day. It was a seminal work for us. We turned a corner with it and haven’t looked back since.
I will forever be grateful to that actor, to Alan, and the entire Jitney production for inspiring me on a deep and soulful level. For affirming just what can happen when you hold out for what you love, and you have a strong why, and you commit to excellence and generosity throughout.
P.S. – I’d love to hear any stories about shows that impacted you!
The gift of a great script is that if the actor simply commits to learning the lines exactly as written, they will then get the rhythm, and once they have the rhythm, they will then have the character.
One of the greatest productions I ever saw was of August Wilson’s Jitney. I saw it many times and got to know one of the actors through those repeat viewings. I asked him about the director’s rehearsal process. He said that for the most part, the director just closed his eyes and listened to the piece. If the rhythm was right, he let the actors keep going. If it was off, and it was almost always because of a blown pause or saying the wrong word, the director would stop and have them go back.
Once the cast could get through the whole script without stopping is when they knew they were on the right track.