Generican Disease
I’ve had a fixation for the last week and a half: What is unique about you?
This isn’t a touchy-feelie thing - it’s marketing, damn it! And it’s an ongoing issue for actors. I think it’s the downside of training, sometimes. Congratulations, you’ve learned a lot of technique, so now you do what you do better, but you have also learned how to turn off your humanity and be neutral enough that I recognize you’re doing a good job, but you’re boring.
I feel that I have the right to call your acting boring, by the way, because my acting is boring, too. I’m the boring expert. I don’t just act; I teach this shit, so I must know it well!
This is a huge issue when I’m working with actors on speaking in General American. (What is GA? Approximately 147 more blog posts, so let it go for the moment. You know what I’m saying. Don’t be an argumentative voice teacher.) GA is not just an accent; it’s also a style, and it’s not just speech; it’s also voice. It requires efficiency of movement and it requires a vibrantly resonant voice and it requires appropriate articulation (as opposed to wacked-out over-articulation or mumbling.)
But what it does, usually, is wash people out. It’s a personality leech.
“That’s accurate, but I don’t care.” It kills theatre. It’s why Shakespeare productions almost always suck - it’s one of the reasons, anyway.
So the challenge is Can you speak in Generican without losing You?
You’re the one cast as Hermione, not one of the other 11 women they read for the role. What do you bring to Hermione that no one else can? (There is no Hermione, by the way - there’s only You as Hermione or Jennifer as Hermione. Bob could play Hermione, too, but that’s a whole other concept. Kind of hard to explain the pregnancy thing that way, too…)
It’s Generican season. Get innoculated.