“Attention is the most basic form of love.” -Tara Brach
“So attention must be paid…Attention, attention must finally be paid to such a person.” -Linda Loman in Arthur Miller’s Death Of A Salesman
“True humility Is not thinking less of yourself. It’s thinking of yourself less. -C.S. Lewis
In life’s conversations and when on stage, pay way more attention to the person right in front of you. Pay way less attention to the person inside you.
Listen. Listen. Listen.
There’s a reason it’s called “paying” attention. It costs you something. Your time and your focus. And unlike other transactions, expect nothing in return.
The writer/director Kenneth Lonergan (You Can Count On Me, Margaret, Manchester By The Sea) has said that when making a film, he’s thrilled if he gets 80-90% of what he originally envisioned in his head.
As a director (film and theatre included), you must do everything you can to create the conditions for an “A” project to emerge. Some of which include…
-Ensure the script is as tight as it can be.
-Cast a wide net for each role. Be open to all ideas and possibilities. Don’t settle.
-Only hire designers and crew who are as passionate and care as much about their job as you do yours.
-Communicate your vision clearly to all your artists and crew. (A well written concept statement goes a long way.) Then step back allow them to dazzle you.
-Be organized and efficient in rehearsals (especially if it’s theatre) and principal photography. Respect people’s time.
-Maintain a safe and fun environment where everyone can fully explore and do their best work. No egos allowed.
When you’ve worked as hard as you possibly can and done all you can do, realize that because it’s art and a collaborative medium, there are just some things beyond your control. And it’s okay if you end up with a B or B+. A B+ is still pretty damn good.
“A dream is just a goal without a deadline.” -Robert Herjavec
If you really want to achieve that goal, start thinking like a producer. Turn the goal into a project. Ask yourself questions like…How much will it cost? What’s the overall timeline? What are the key milestones? Who do I need to help me achieve this? What does a successful delivery to the client (in this case yourself) look like?
Then create a workplan and budget for it. And get started.
If you’re willing to do this kind of thinking and work at the outset, then that means it’s a priority. And if it’s a priority for you, you’ve got a great shot of achieving said goal. (Worst case scenario…you come up short, but you learned a lot.)
If you’re not willing to do this kind of thinking and work?…Well, then, keep dreaming.
P.S. – If you need some help to get started, read this excellent NYT article about micro progress. (Thanks Michael for introducing me to this NYT column.)
They don’t know how many camera tests you did before shooting. How many hundreds of drafts you wrote before you turned in the novel. How long you looked until you found the exact, right, period wallpaper. How hard you worked to get the costumes perfectly tea-stained and distressed. How you obsessed every night to get the correct proportion of taco sauce to dirty dishes on Danny’s extraordinary set. (That last one is an Inside joke for Stef, Ron and Danny.)
They don’t know. But you know. You know you did your best. You gave everything you had to the project.
And it’s because of your passion and your love and your care about every detail that while they don’t know it, they feel it. In their bones. That’s all that matters anyway, right? To get them to feel something. To open up their hearts and minds. To give them an amazing artistic experience that they’ll never forget.
Maybe you weren’t the first choice for the project. Or the second. Or the third.
None of that matters. That’s just ego. Get over it.
Assuming you love the project and the people behind it, all that matters is you’re a part of it now. You get to do meaningful work. Be grateful for the opportunity. Give everything you got. Put your whole heart and soul into it. Be generous and kind towards everyone you encounter.
Don’t you ever wonder Maybe if things had been slightly different You could be somebody else? Don’t you wonder maybe If you took a left turn Instead of taking a right You could be somebody different?
Don’t you ever wonder Could I have been Don’t you ever wonder? Anyone, anyone Don’t you ever wonder? Don’t you ever wonder? Anyone, anyone, anyone
Could I have been a parking lot attendant? Could I have been a millionaire in Bel Air? Could I have been lost somewhere at Red Rocks? Could I have been your little sister?
Could I have been anyone other than me? Could I have been anyone other than me? Could I have been anyone other than me? Could I have been anyone? -Dave Matthews Band, song “Dancing Nancies”
“I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let’s face it. It was you, Charley.” -Marlon Brando as Terry Malloy in On The Waterfront
Do you ever wonder if you could be somebody else? Live their life? See what they see? Feel what they feel?
That’s one of the great things about being an actor. Especially if you fully commit and inhabit the character. You get to be somebody else. For a little while anyway. And in the process, you and the audience gain greater insight and empathy for the human condition. That’s a pretty noble calling.