Listening Part 2 – An Actor’s Workout
By Kimberly Jentzen

Kimberly Jentzen guides Roman Banfield and Brianne La Flair in an Actor’s Workout using the play Danny and the Deep Blue Sea by John Patrick Shanley. The focus of this session is on Listening.

The exercise I present today is a way of exploring the text through the power tool, Listening. On set you may not always have the time or the opportunity to do exercises. However, to stay on top of your game as well as in your development as an actor, it is crucial for you to keep your instrument tuned to the subtext and organically connecting with your scene partner. The benefit of rehearsal is that it reminds you of the joy of the work and the discoveries that can be made.

Your work must always remain alive in the moment. And there are many kinds of exercises I will be presenting in the Listening series that can help you build this skill. In Listening Part 2, I explore the importance of not only opening your eyes to observe, but equally important, is opening your ears to listen. One of the striking truths in acting is that you will continuously be searching under the surface for the subtext. Listening involves this kind of inquiry.

You can’t underestimate the subtext

The most important conversations you will have are the questions you ask regarding the subtext of the material. And as you ask them, don’t answer the questions too fast. It’s important to ponder and sit with the questions for a while. It’s important to explore many answers and to delve into the depth of the material.

We’ve heard the saying, “don’t read into this,” often because the words may imply a subtext that could insult or negate another. But in acting you are responsible for script analysis. You don’t want to make superficial choices… because superficiality leads to a shallow assessment of your character. And those assessments often lead to uninteresting choices and stereotypes. The exception is working a comedy. Often the stereotype is funny. This is one of the distinctions between drama and comedy, (which I will be exploring in another video series). You want to make choices inspired by the truth that lives within the writer’s intention of the material.

Everything begins with the objective

The objective is what the character wants. It’s important to understand what your character hopes to achieve in the scene as that determines an important part of the subtext. How your character will go after their objective also determines who they are. These considerations are the basis for the choices you will make, in acting the scene. A complete and thorough examination of these tools: listening and the objective, can be found in my book, Acting with Impact: Power Tools to Ignite the Actor’s Performance.

The most important time in acting is during your preparation

If you’ve done a thorough preparation the acting will come naturally and easily. If you are self-conscious while you are performing you have missed something that lives within you—that organically relates to the character. Or you have distanced yourself from embodying the role. What liberates you from self-consciousness is knowing where your focus is in the scene, and making sure it is not on yourself and your acting.

The strongest focus in acting is concentrating on what you want from your scene partner. In order to achieve focus in the work, you must be committed to the homework prior to performance. Scene study is about practice in applying all of your tools so that when you are working professionally, the homework becomes easy and quickly applicable. This is why most actors continue to stay in a scene study class, because practice improves their booking average as well as their competence on the set and on the job.

Rehearsal is love in action

Listening Part 2 delivers insight into an actor’s workout and inspires value for the acting process. It invites the actor to explore a range of tools including Listening, objective, subtext and connecting with your scene partner. You’re welcome to comment in the comment section below. I look forward to hearing from you and I’d be glad to answer any questions or comments you may have.

Kimberly Jentzen presents a new and dynamic series: The Power and Magic of Listening, Part One. The following is an excerpt from her newly released book, Acting with Impact: Power Tools to Ignite the Actor’s Performance.

Listening is opening up and hearing with not only your ears, but with each of your senses. To really hear the rain or take that moment to really taste the ice cream, or allow your eyes to take in the light through the trees in the early morning; these are all forms of listening.

Listening is being aware in the moment, like when a lover listens to your body and follows its message, or when a friend picks up on your indirect cues to leave the party and together you go. Listening is not only about hearing words, but being engaged with the whole communication of another and hearing with sensory intuition.

A skilled actor understands how to listen for more than just the words, sounds and tonality, but also with an emptiness inside that needs to be filled by the other character. When you listen to others, what do you really listen for? And what is your character listening for?

Listening is the first real obligation required to carry out a believable truthfulness in the moment. It creates an honest connection between scene partners. The actor has to surrender the planned response to allow a true response that can only come when really listening. Nothing can replace it.

Early in my acting career, I struggled with listening. I was playing the lead role in a play and I couldn’t find my character. My friend told me to try to get a reaction from the other actor, some physical response, be it a smile, a laugh or even a raised eyebrow—just play the reality of attempting to get an organic, real moment from my partner on stage. This concept completely improved my work. I began to listen for a response instead of just my cues. I realized that predetermining how to say my lines gave a performance that pre-judged the experience of the moment. My lines now had a goal: to generate a response from my fellow partner. This was a major breakthrough, and I also had more fun in the process.

To listen is to put your attention on the other actor and what is being said both verbally and non-verbally. You watch, you hear, you wait; you are captivated in an active process. You can even listen to the silence of someone. Listening is taking in emotional reactions, body language, facial expressions and energy.

You can’t “act” listening

Never pretend to listen. Sometimes actors will move their head up and down, nodding or shaking their head, acting as if they are listening. How can you know whether you can agree or disagree until the other actor has finished their thought? You have to wait and really hear the actual thing that will generate your response.

When you really listen, your line deliveries gain nuances and become organic. Once this occurs, everything about the work can fall into place. When you really listen, you concern yourself with receiving the other actor—responding not in the way you previously planned, but with what naturally comes forth. It is genuinely accepting and connecting to what is being given.

The connection is above the communication

Have you ever engaged in a conversation in such a way that you forget what you were going to say next? The organic response that comes from that conversation is a true connection. What you were going to say isn’t as important as the experience with the person with whom you are conversing.

Sometimes actors make the written words more important than listening to what lives beneath them. The truth of life is that the communication never rises above the connection.

Another life truth is how we listen. We respond differently in every relationship. Wouldn’t you prefer to hear bad news from one person rather than from another? We have special bonds with a select few. All of that is taken into consideration as part of the real communication.

Let’s say you are playing a small role as a messenger. The film takes place during 1944 and you must tell a Midwestern woman her husband was killed by the Germans in France. Your appearance in the film might be minimal, but the connection to the information will have a lasting effect on the life of this woman. And how you take her in, how you study her eyes as you tell her the news is crucial to the delivery of the lines.

**Acting with Impact is available at Samuel French Bookstore, Hollywood and kimberlyjentzen.com

When I was an actor, at different stages in my career and artistic growth I often wondered what skill level I was at in my evolution as an actor. Though teachers, directors, and my audience would often deliver positive feedback, which gave me a nice boost of confidence, I also knew that I struggled with technique and really wanted to own my craft. I came upon a study of the craftsman’s development and found it identical to the development of the artist. The following lesson is the journey from Novice to Master.

Acting is both a craft and an art. The difference between them is that a craftsman can multiply a product, while an artist produces one-of-a-kind originals. A fine tailor is a craftsman because the garments can be multiplied over and over again, without a visible change in appearance. This is true of a brick layer, or one that lays tiles, a glass blower, etc. all are also crafts. When we look at these skills, where physical labor is involved, there is an art that lives inside them as well.

The difference is that the artist can’t duplicate their product to an exact, because art lends itself to personal interpretation. It adds another human element—the identity of the creator and therefore, can’t be “Xeroxed” or duplicated precisely. If it could, it wouldn’t be organic, as it would be robotic. Even if an actor reads a line in a similar way, because it’s a living expression, it must be fresh and organic. Being an artist is creating something that will never be expressed or created again, ever.

This is the very distinction that separates art from craft, however, the training cycles for both artists and craftsmen are identical, moving through four stages: novice, apprentice, journeyman and master.

A novice is a beginner who has a passionate desire to become an artist or learn a skill. This desire can be sparked at any age in life. Like a child who is fascinated with a piece of glass-blown art or a woman who longs to play the piano or a man who wants to build designer fireplaces, once the novice chooses their forum, they must find a mentor.

The next stage, the apprentice, must surrender prior concepts and ideas (commercial and hearsay influences) to gain true insight into their chosen discipline.

In the olden times families would have their son apprentice to become a blacksmith, metal or wood worker, tailor, or other craft professional. A master would be paid tuition for their child or teenager to study for a number of years until they were ready to work for pay in the shop or move back to their homeland to serve as the master craftsman in their community.

Fine actors are known to have apprenticed for several years. Some attend universities and more commonly, many find a master teacher. And because the actor’s instrument is the body, one that is-ever changing due to age and life experience, to keep their instrument tuned, many actors throughout their career continue to study in ongoing classes.

When the actor has gained enough skill to begin making a contribution professionally, the transition is made to journeyman. The journeyman takes the challenges encountered on set or on stage back into the classroom and works out issues to enhance their performance skill. The journeyman will incorporate lessons learned from their training and technique in the field. The journeyman’s goal is to be a major contributor as an artist and to become a master at their craft.

A journeyman becomes a master when fellow colleagues recognize the work as exceptional. When those whom you admire seek out opportunities to work with you because you exhibit an elevated skill, the realm of master craftsman and artist is achieved. Like the craftsman, a layman may not recognize the difference in a finely tailored suit. But a master tailor will look at the seams and know instantly. The same is true in the art and craft of acting. The public at large may not know the difference, but fellow actors know, they recognize and applaud a master.

As an actor, you are like a fine bottle of wine. You must marinate, cultivate and develop your flavor. When you are ready for market, some may want a different brand and some will chose your brand. However, you cannot change the essence of who you are… you can only learn ways to enhance your range and flexibility by aiming to become a master at your craft. There are many great actors that have developed themselves into masters…. Meryl Streep, Ryan Gosling, Viola Davis, Gary Oldman, Julianne Moore, Jack Nicholson, etc.

I always tell my actors, whatever arc type you fall into, strive to be the best in your category. Major arc types include: the leading woman, ingénue (innocent young woman), character actress, leading man, young leading man, and character actor. Casting Directors will get even more specific when breaking down scripts for roles… like the bad girl, girl next door, best buddy to the male lead, brooding male lead, etc. Casting categories can lend the actor to having a range that can fall into several casting types.

Technique and craft development in acting is about learning how to play those types believably and build flexibility and range. It’s also about mastering different genres: comedy, sit-com, drama, period drama, episodic, etc. It’s also necessary to develop the skill required to book in different mediums: film, television, stage and new media.

Acting requires the ability to adapt and listen to the verbal and silent instructions being given. Only an actor with confidence is capable of handling the pressure required for a solid audition, and the exhausting demands of a long shooting schedule. Developing your craft creates a calm confidence—knowing that you are on your way to mastery and that you are committed to developing your skill brings a feeling of comfort and self-trust. And it is training that can inspire you, for as you build expertise in your skill, you also build an inner sense of self-belief.

Michael Nankin is a regular guest director and teacher here at The Jentzen Technique’s Living the Art Institute. I’m thrilled to share with you an interview and lesson with writer/director/producer Michael Nankin, which is part one of a two-part series. His words of wisdom ring true for actors, directors and industry professionals alike. Having directed more than 30 titles, Michael Nankin’s credits include Battlestar Galactica, FlashForward, Heroes, CSI, Picket Fences, Monk and Life Goes On, to name a few.

In the following video, he illuminates a refreshingly honest take on how to survive the film and television business, stressing important aspects of the work. Michael believes that the act of creation in the moment is the most exhilarating part, which is the collaboration between director and actor.

Here are some of Michael’s thoughts, the three things he always tells actors, in regard to acting…

“Not Yet”

The first one is ‘not yet.’ “In any well-written scene, the emotional event is at the end because once you achieve the emotional event, there’s no reason to hang around. As soon as the emotional event happens, we are done and that’s at the end of the scene. And there it is—there’s the treasure, the gold ring, that sparkly thing, that emotional event at the end of the scene… and actors just want to get to the emotional event. I’m attracted to it myself. But we all must practice restraint. Because any of that emotion that we experience too soon robs it of it’s moment. The characters don’t know it’s there, only the actors and director know it’s there, but it’s very hard and something we always have to remind ourselves of… it’s the horse racing for the barn. So, ‘not yet.’”

“Stay in your own sandbox”

The second thing Michael tells actors is ‘stay in your own sandbox.’ “In the same way that the emotional event is attractive in a three-person scene, the one who has the biggest emotion is attracted to the other two. Ideally, you want emotional contrast between the characters in a scene, you don’t want them all to be doing the same thing. So if you have one guy whose job it is to yell and scream, if you’re not careful, pretty soon everyone’s yelling and screaming. It’s just hard to resist. So my job is to go ‘no, that’s his job, your job is to sit over here in the corner and be the peacemaker, and your job over here is to be annoying and his job is to scream and yell.’ So it’s always, ‘stay in your own sandbox.’”

“Simpler”

And the third is, ‘simpler.’ “It’s hard to describe… simpler is a big word. A friend of mine once said to me when a director says to you ‘less’ … he never means less honesty. Even if the director doesn’t know what he is saying. Less is never less honesty.”

Michael went on to talk about authentic emotion… “As human beings, we are highly emotional people. We’re emotional about everything. And in order to get along with each other we’ve become experts at suppressing our emotions. We feel 100 percent, but we show 10 percent. This is what we are used to seeing. And because of this, we’ve all become geniuses at figuring out what’s really going on. And so, for a performance in film to seem real, it has to try to approximate that, because the audiences are all geniuses at figuring out what’s really going on. And if you give them something that approximates reality, which is an actor who is feeling everything and pushing it down and hiding it, that gets the audience involved because now they are working with you, now you no longer are dishing it out… now it’s a tennis game. So simpler is code for that.’”

Michael believes your best work is when you are really aren’t conscious of what you did. When you say, “What happened, what did I do, was it okay?”

He shared an experience when recently working with actor, Robert Patrick… “After every scene, after take one Robert would say, ‘That was it, wasn’t it? That’s a keeper, it doesn’t get any better than that!’ Which I guess works on some people. But it was funny because he would do that… he’d say ‘that’s the one.’ And I’d say… ‘well…’ and then he’d say, ‘no, no, no, it sucked, what do you need.”

After an evening with Michael and my class, I was reminded that actors who trust the director, always benefit greatly in the execution of the material.

Kimberly Jentzen

Confidence… we all need it to be successful. No matter what we do in life, we depend on our ability to communicate effectively with great belief in what we have to give.

But one can’t gain confidence by demanding others to praise or approve of them. This same rule applies to anyone who is attempting to be a successful working actor. You gain confidence by demonstrating to yourself that you are worthy of it.

Confidence is something you can’t “get,” but it is something you can build.

False confidence is copping an attitude that you are superior to others. This attitude is not pro-survival for the actor because you really need to be moldable to do your job. In acting, strength is realized by being flexible and open to any criticism and notes. Great acting requires welcoming feedback and trusting the collaborative process between you and the director. If you feel you must protect yourself, your focus will be in your ego, and you will be gauging how safe you are, instead of freely trusting the process. You may even discover you are in your head, “watching yourself” as you act, and not living into the give-and-take between you and your fellow actors to deliver that great performance you so desire.

You see, often the things actors do to protect themselves are the very things that get in the way of greatness. Sometimes actors may fall apart, needing others to reassure them. Or the actor may even get angry and be difficult to work with because they are afraid of being bad. Even when their choice may be weak and there is a better choice suggested, actors can be so afraid to step outside their comfort zone that they may sabotage something good for something “safe.”

When we are focused on our own inadequacies, we aren’t being present to the opportunities being offered. There is always potential within us to discover an unrealized new strength. In every production, in every opportunity, something unknown, something extraordinary, lives within us that yearns to be ignited, if we would just step out of our own way.

Acting is a constant exercise in uncovering what lives within you, the good and the bad, and to fearlessly expose what most people would rather hide.

To be a great actor, you must be willing to step into the unknown, with honesty.

Trust is the most important quality an artist can possess. When you trust, you naturally relax and enjoy the process. When you focus on the love of the work, you open up your heart and find your creativity in it, you are an active participant rather than an observer. You begin to brave any criticism. When you invest your heart and thought into craft; when you have devoted yourself to study and have applied many, many critiques; when you know you are doing the work that all great actors do… you strengthen a believe in yourself that no one can take away.

The amazing thing is, it isn’t confidence that get’s in your way, it’s actually fear. You can work through the fear and transform it into positive energy. Your confidence comes from the execution of doing the work, over and over again. That’s how people build their confidence in class, through completing scenes and learning how to get better at script and character analysis.

Confidence is effectively interpreting a script and from that assessment executing strong choices. If you know your craft, no one can deny your skill and that exhibits great self-belief that you have something grand to contribute, simply because you really, really actually do.

When you have proven to yourself you have skill, there is a calm inside.

Confidence is being competent. It is knowing that when your time comes, you will be able to deliver because you practiced when it didn’t count. You can only gain confidence from working on yourself and showing up to the work. There is nothing without it. Though it’s nice to have others treat you with respect, there is nothing like earning it because you did a good job. That’s the real deal… and that’s confidence.

Working your Internal Life with “Intentional Energy”

By Kimberly Jentzen

Acting is the ability to believe in an event as if it’s happening now. In film and television, it’s particularly crucial that the acting feels like it’s occurring for the first time. This is true, no matter how many takes are needed to complete the job; acting requires “intentional energy.”

Intentional energy gives the actor a focus by playing the consequences of the scene. Intentional energy puts the actor’s attention on the character’s need, and all listening is filtered through that need. A great example is in the film Moneyball, when Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill sit across from each other, juggling phone calls as they trade baseball players for their team. The intentional energy between them keeps the stakes alive.

Too much energy can be distracting. It can trip the actor up by circumventing listening skills, making random movements or being all over the room. Energy that is too low can produce similar results and cause you to deliver a dull and unexciting performance. Both energy issues disable the actor and demonstrate problems with mental focus, physical stillness and believability in the performance.

We’ve all heard casting directors, directors and industry professionals speak about how important energy is and that all great actors have a lot of it. So what gets in the way? Here are some thoughts I’ve come to that I hope will aid you in harnessing intentional energy.

Self-awareness can steal energy. If you are watching whether or not you are doing a good job, your energy will be disconnected from your intention. Your intention must stay with what the character wants, not the performance you want. Often what happens when you watch yourself is that you edit your ideas and the instincts that you think are bad, may actually be good. You can’t know this without trusting your instincts as you attempt to live into the character’s intention.

Another energy issue that happens is when you attempt to play a character that requires you to go beyond your own comfort zone of emotional expression.

If you have been conditioned to censor your own thoughts and emotions—to hide yourself from feeling what is real within you, there will be energy issues.

Often in life, there are times when we can kind of “check out.” Sometimes, just to survive our youth or current situations, we may bury our emotions thinking, that it’s the only way to survive. And our cultural upbringing has great influence on us as well. We might suppress our feelings so deeply that our own passion gets hidden. And when passion is buried, energy is buried.

Eye contact radiates energy and connects you to your scene partner. It gives you your eye line. It also helps the editor give you your close-up because if you look at the wall as you listen, while your scene partner is delivering their lines to you, it is difficult for the audience to perceive the relative space. You’re close-up might be lost to a two-shot so the audience understands the juxtaposition.

However, you never want to “stare” at your partner. You want to really listen and react. You want to be engaged in the life of the scene.

Let’s explore this. Right now as you read this, stop for a second and stare and then observe what happens…. When you stare, basically there is nothing going on. Staring is “checking out,” it is the opposite of listening. Connecting with your partner requires energy to listen and react. You do this naturally when you live into the character’s intention.

In a scene, there are three places our eyes can go: 1. With our scene partner. 2. Away from the scene partner and into our own thoughts, and 3. The environment—where you take it in and then use it to stimulate the energy to fulfill the moment. Each requires the actor to live into the character’s intention with focused thoughts so that living into the reality of the circumstance allows you to be fully engaged and in the moment.

Intentional energy is harnessed through Stanislavsky’s beloved principle called the “magic if.” Living into the circumstance as if it is really happening to you. In every scene and exercise you do, attempt to live into the “magic if.”

Along with this approach you will find it necessary to discover your character’s objective. If you do that successfully, you will have the opportunity to build on a focused energy. What and how you listen will determine whether or not you are winning your objective. These simple tools can be the source of a focused energy that allows risk taking and the building of an intentional energy.

For years I’ve been coaching talented theatre actors as they make the transition from stage to film and television acting. It seems the distinction between stage and film acting has become an obsession for actors who want to make the leap!

The ability to adapt between the two has undeniably become an extremely important skill for any actor who wants to be a working professional. I have worked with students who have thrived in theatre, be it starring roles on Broadway or repertory companies; but found themselves a bit befuddled when it came to translating their acting ability to film.

The following is the beginning of a series of videos and articles that will continue to shed insight into this important skill and the differentiation between stage and screen acting.

The first difference is important to grasp, as the medium will determine how the story will be told. In theatre the actors relay the story as it happens via monologues and dialogue. But in film there is much less dialogue and the camera tells the story visually. So, in film, the actor will be communicating via looks, action, behavior and emotion and will sometimes simply utter only a few lines of dialogue. That same scene in a play might be executed in a five-minute monologue presented to a live audience. Also, on stage that actor can never really “utter.” In theatre the actor must be heard all the way to the back of the balcony and will project their voice accordingly.

The challenge of truthfulness

Everyone has good and bad days and in theatre an actor could very well pretend some of their emotions. As some theatre actors may not like to admit it, the rigors of performing night after night can lend an actor to skillfully execute their emotion outwardly. A stage actor understands that as long as there is a theatrical energy emanating, the audience will hopefully continue to be engaged.

In film, the emotions are intimate and raw, as the lens is recording the actor up close. It isn’t easy to pretend or even try to get away with faking an experience. In film, the actor must commit to the truthfulness of the life they are playing; the actor must be what I call,  “intimately believable.”

Rehearsal

The rehearsal process is vastly different from one medium to the next. The beauty of theatre is that it affords the actor the opportunity to develop a character over a four-week period (give or take a week or two). What a luxury to nurture character development while memorizing your lines! In film, you are lucky to get a few days of rehearsal, dependent on the budget and the director… and in television, you more often won’t get any rehearsal at all! In television, your rehearsal is the run through prior to the director and DP setting up the camera for the shot. Sometimes a series regular might really enjoy the rehearsal process and you luck out and get a session prior to the 2^nd AD calling for you to be on set.

Performance is key

If you love acting you quickly realize that it doesn’t really matter what medium you are currently working in as long as you are effective in each one of them. Often working in one medium can lead to getting you a gig in another. So it’s important to keep working the skills required for each medium.

A great theatre role could lead to a television role. Years ago I witnessed an amazing performance in a play called Topdog/Underdog at the Mark Taper Forum. I was blown away by Harold Perrineau, who gave a powerful performance in his portrayal of the older brother, Lincoln. He had been in a television series but wasn’t working in TV at the time, so he took the role and went on tour. A couple of years later he booked a series regular role on J.J. Abrams, Lost. I remember hearing April Webster, the casting director of Lost, mention that she had seen him in Topdog/Underdog and remembered him.

Act with impact!

Kimberly Jentzen