Chapter 4
Overcoming Barriers: Obstacles and Intentions
Drama requires both wants (objectives) and obstacles preventing those wants. In every play or film, someone or something stands in the way of what you desire. Having obstacles is fundamental to dramatic structure and to life itself. Intentions are active doings aimed at overcoming obstacles to achieve objectives-they're how you go about getting what you want.
Intentions aren't just words but specific ways of doing things that reveal character. The way you deliver even a simple line like "Good morning" depends on your character's circumstances and objectives-it could be delivered to guilt-trip someone who didn't call, express warmth after sexual fulfillment, or dismiss someone who disappointed you.
Some acting teachers fear that focusing on intentions makes acting too mental rather than emotional, but this is a misconception. Intentions are simply active doings toward other characters that help remove obstacles and achieve objectives-something we all do daily in real life. When committing to a character's circumstances, objectives and intentions, your emotions naturally stir, making the character live authentically.
Intentions must be emotionally justified and appropriate to your character's personality-some characters are emotionally explosive while others hold emotions in. Directors may speak in "result" terms like "give me more anger," but your job is to translate this into actable intentions. The best directors give direction in terms of intentions rather than emotions: "pick a fight with them" rather than "be angry."
Acting isn't just about conveying emotions but sending ideas to other characters. As Stella Adler taught, ideas are alive, and good writers fill their characters with ideas to transmit to the audience. How you send these ideas constitutes your active intention-you might seduce with an idea, intimidate with it, or humiliate someone else's idea with your own.
To discover unique active intentions, Helen Hunt and I developed a technique using a thesaurus. When preparing for Isabella in "Measure for Measure," we identified basic verbs like "to demand" and "to beg," then explored their many synonyms-to claim, order, extort, seek, insist, supplicate, entreat, etc. Each word creates different emotional and physical impulses, providing a rich palette of tonal colors for performance.
Chapter 5
The Dramatic Engine: What's at Stake?
Stakes define how important it is for your character to achieve their objective and what will happen if they fail. The higher the stakes, the more compelling the performance. Whether in drama or comedy, understanding what your character will sacrifice-their pride, morality, or even their life-drives authentic emotional intensity.
True "life or death" stakes require deep understanding. When Stella Adler taught "Hamlet" at Yale, students questioned his hesitation to kill Claudius. She brought in half a cow carcass and had them stab it, demonstrating the visceral difficulty of violence. For Hamlet, the stakes are existential-he cannot continue living unless he solves and avenges his father's murder.
In "Tootsie," Michael's career stakes are existential-his career defines his very right to exist. When his agent says "Nobody wants to hire you," his validity feels canceled. The stakes are so high he'll disguise himself as Dorothy to get work. As Dorothy becomes a soap star, Michael satisfies his need for self-worth, but faces new obstacles: falling for Julie while pretending to be her girlfriend, and Julie's father developing a crush on Dorothy.
Michael's dual superobjectives-to be acknowledged as the greatest actor and to have a committed love relationship-create conflict that heightens both comedy and emotion. The film's theme emerges: how a man becomes better by becoming a woman. Through Dorothy, Michael develops awareness of others, seeing how women are treated and viewing Julie as a person rather than object-a stark contrast to his earlier misogyny toward Sandy.
Chapter 6
Creating Inner Life: The Power of Imagery
After mastering script analysis techniques, the next step is creating an internal life for your character through inner imagery-the thoughts, feelings, memories and inner decisions that may never be spoken. When audiences see fully realized performances, they're witnessing actors thinking, experiencing nonverbal expression as real as dialogue. This internal life makes characters believable and engaging.
Inner imagery creates what I call "cellular resonance"-when actors have vivid internal pictures, it triggers the audience's unconscious to form their own images, making performances feel lived rather than acted. Whether these images come from personal memories or imagination doesn't matter; what matters is having them.
Inner imagery demands creating specific sensory-rich mental pictures that emotionally affect you. The power of imagination can be just as potent as memory-whether you've actually experienced something or vividly imagined it, your body responds as if it were real when you fully commit to believing it.
Many actors limit themselves by thinking imagery must come from personal experience, but this robs them of emotional possibilities beyond their own lives. In everyday conversation, our words come alive because of the subliminal images attached to our experiences. In acting, these images-whether lived or imagined-create the same authentic energy that captivates an audience.
When working with text like Mio's speech from "Winterset," where he describes visiting his father in prison before execution, the actor must create detailed sensory pictures: What did the iron gate feel like? What was your mother's attitude? How did your father's face look in the cell? Without these inner pictures, even beautiful poetic language will feel hollow.
While using "as if" techniques, actors must commit fully to imagining painful scenarios. When I need to react emotionally to something not physically present-like filming against a blue screen-I might imagine finding my beloved cat Noir cut in half. Though some actors avoid such painful imagery fearing "bad vibes," this isn't negativity but a celebration of love. Using people or things you love helps express the depths of loss and love for the audience.
The actor's job requires making everything real through specific inner imagery. You must either believe the writer's imagery, find personalization that fits the script, or create an "as if" scenario-likely using all three approaches. Everything must be specific, never general. Your unique inner imagery becomes part of your interpretation, like Lena Horne said: "The one thing they could never copy was what I thought inside."
Chapter 7
Beyond the Method Wars: Finding Your Path
In the 1930s, Lee Strasberg and Stella Adler's disagreement about acting techniques created a rift that influenced generations of actors. Both were members of the influential Group Theatre in New York, but developed opposing perspectives on using life experience versus imagination in acting.
Strasberg taught "affective memory," a fundamental exercise of Method acting derived from Stanislavsky. This technique involves recalling intense personal experiences through sensory details-the feeling of clothing against skin, smells, tastes, sounds-until these triggers release genuine emotion. The goal is accessing these emotions reliably for repeated performances.
Adler objected that overemphasis on sense memory took actors out of the play's world, making their emotional lives more important than the play itself. After studying with Stanislavsky in Paris, she returned claiming Strasberg misrepresented Stanislavsky's ideas. She emphasized physical action, imagination, and the ideas contained in scripts rather than personal experience.
Both teachers made contributions and mistakes. Strasberg's actors sometimes became too self-involved, while Adler's sometimes pushed emotions they didn't genuinely feel. I revere both but disagree with their dogmatic views. Near the end of their lives, they likely agreed more than they admitted, with Adler telling Strasberg's widow, "We should have talked," and writing "In history there are battles that now end in love."
The actor and script are what matter most. Use whatever techniques help you become most specific and alive in a part. Some actors work exclusively from personal memory, others purely from imagination-both approaches can work. Be independent, avoid taking sides in these senseless wars, and find your own way using all available tools.
David Mamet recently revived this battle by dismissing sense memory, inner imagery, and character development as "nonsense" and "hogwash." He claims actors should simply stand, have an objective, and deliver lines. Yet eliminating these tools would destroy the fabric of plays by Shakespeare, Ibsen, Williams, Miller-and Mamet himself. Alan Arkin noted that he succeeded in Mamet's "Glengarry Glen Ross" by finding Aaronow's inner life, ignoring Mamet's own advice.
Acting requires using intellect to reach emotions, not to be clever. You must earn your right to be an actor through dedicated work, moving beyond the Stella/Strasberg debate to use all available tools. Great acting is a spiritual quest that creates an electrical quality-when Vanessa Redgrave performed in "Ghosts," she seemed to glow. This illumination happens when actors are completely concentrated and emotionally plugged in.
Chapter 8
Creating Your Unique Interpretation
When creating your interpretation of a character, you must reveal layers like peeling an onion. As Peter Hall told Judi Dench when she questioned playing Cleopatra due to being a "menopausal dwarf": "In the first scene, you'll show us a little bit of Cleopatra. And in the second scene you'll show us a little bit more. And maybe by the end of the play, we'll see all of Cleopatra." Hall valued Dench's interpretive skills over physical appearance, emphasizing the psychological and emotional development an actor can reveal.
We see great plays repeatedly to experience gifted interpreters bringing fresh perspectives to iconic roles. Critics praise performances as "revelations" when actors bring something unique to familiar texts. Interpretation tools include: choosing carbonating words for your superobjective, creating active intentions, developing inner imagery, choosing a private secret for your character, making behavioral choices based on socioeconomic background, incorporating blood memory and accent work, physical choices, finding humor in drama and dramatic underpinnings in comedy, making choices in rhythm and delivery, and determining performance size.
Helen Hunt brilliantly interpreted her character Carol in "As Good as It Gets" by deciding she had a secret attraction to Melvin (Jack Nicholson) from their first encounter-an attraction she herself didn't understand. This choice created a foundation for their eventual romance and made her later fury at him more powerful. This wasn't in the script's given circumstances; it was Helen's interpretation that shaped her performance.
Understanding your character's class, education, and financial circumstances is vital for interpretation. Maggie in "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" describes being "disgustingly poor," which should inform how the actress handles material possessions-like carefully tending to a lace dress ruined by a child. Contrast this with Janet McTeer's Nora in "A Doll's House," who flung clothes carelessly around the room, showing her pampered, spoiled nature.
A character's nationality and ethnic roots-their blood memory-profoundly affect interpretation. Meryl Streep insisted on using an Italian accent for Francesca in "The Bridges of Madison County" despite director Clint Eastwood's doubts. Her accent embodied Francesca's isolation in the Midwest and created fascinating tension with Eastwood's raw American energy. An accent isn't just technical; it's a way of life affecting physical and emotional expression.
Physical choices are crucial to interpretation, as seen in different portrayals of Shakespeare's Richard III. Anthony Sher made Richard's deformity the character's dominant trait and justification for vengeance, studying spinal injuries for a year and conceptualizing Richard as a spider with crutches. His interpretation contrasts sharply with the milder physical disabilities portrayed by Laurence Olivier and Ian McKellen in their film versions.
Great actors find humor in high drama and darkness in comedy. Diana Rigg discovered comedic moments while playing the murderous Medea, while John Malkovich mined humor from Lee's rigid character in "True West." Brando found so much humor in Stanley Kowalski that it initially unbalanced "Streetcar," requiring Kazan to adjust the film version.
Being sensitive to the writer's rhythms is fundamental to interpretation-O'Neill differs from Williams, Shakespeare from Shaw. You might occasionally choose to go against rhythm with strategic pauses, but must be careful not to lose momentum. Ralph Fiennes revolutionized Hamlet's "To be or not to be" by delivering it at breakneck speed, making the audience hear familiar words anew by transforming them into thoughts rather than spoken words.
Chapter 9
Embodying Character: Physical and Sensory Techniques
One of the most transformative techniques for creating distinctive characters comes from studying animal behavior. Martin Wuttke's performance as Arturo Ui demonstrated this brilliantly-he began the play as a drooling, vicious dog on all fours, his body painted white, tongue blood-red. As he transformed into the Hitleresque character, he maintained the dog's bark in his speech and its hyperalert breathing patterns, creating an insightful interpretation of Hitler as a mad dog.
To use this technique, select a specific animal and learn everything about its behavior-visit zoos, watch documentaries, observe its breathing patterns, musculature, eating habits, and survival instincts. Study where its power centers are, how it moves when hunting or fleeing, and its sensory perceptions. After thoroughly researching, spend time physically embodying the animal, then select specific characteristics to incorporate into your human character.
This exercise freed me to create my most successful theater role as Little Harp in "The Robber Bridegroom." By choosing a rattlesnake-born blind and abandoned by its mother after three days-I developed a slithery walk with deeply bent knees that gave my predatory character a sensuality I'd never accessed before. I further enriched the characterization by imagining myself as a weeping willow tree (revealing Little Harp's hidden hurt), giving him fleas, and creating his delusional self-importance despite his minimal intelligence.
For roles requiring sustained physical sensations (like in the play K-2 where actors must appear freezing for two hours), sensory work is essential. With regular practice, actors develop the ability to instantly access physical sensations-like imagining a burning pot handle or a pin in the eye-through sensory recall or "as if" substitutions.
For creating drunkenness without personal experience, actors can use painkillers as reference points, recalling the specific sensations: first the pain that necessitated medication, then the drug's effects-heaviness in eyelids, thick tongue, muscle relaxation. Alternatively, "as if" techniques work well, like imagining head weight or Tennessee Williams' beautiful imagery for Alma in "Summer and Smoke": "I'm beginning to feel almost like a water lily...on a Chinese lagoon."
Weather conditions-heat, cold-require specific sensory work. In "Laundry and Bourbon," the Texas desert heat becomes metaphorical for the characters' unfulfilled desires, requiring actors to physically manifest discomfort through specific sensations like perspiration collecting at the hairline or clothes sticking to skin.
Chapter 10
The Moment Before and Moment to Moment: Living Truthfully
Creating specific behavior based on what happens right before you walk into any scene builds belief that your character has a full life offstage. The moment before gives your character immediate life and depth from their very first appearance. For instance, in Lanford Wilson's "Burn This," Pale enters after screaming obscenities outside, with a bandaged hand and cocaine-fueled energy. Your choices about the moment before must feed his entrance rage.
Being "moment to moment" means never missing a truthful impulse, staying completely present in the scene rather than becoming self-conscious or mechanical. It's about investigating and exploring choices freshly each performance, being alive to yourself and your scene partners in the now. This approach complements thorough homework on text and character-your preparation creates the foundation for spontaneous, appropriate impulses during performance.
Great moment-to-moment acting happens in the "now of now," creating the sense that anything could happen. Like tennis players responding intuitively to each shot, actors must truly listen as if their lives depended on it, allowing each line to affect them as if hearing it for the first time. Even when playing characters who don't listen well, the actor must know why and where their attention goes instead.
The Meisner Repeat exercise builds organic, truthful acting through moment-to-moment awareness. When taught correctly with focused concentration on truthful observation, this seemingly simple exercise creates a foundation for honest acting. Meisner described moment-to-moment acting as the "pinch-ouch" dynamic-action and reaction in continuous flow.
The biggest obstacle to this work is being concerned with how you appear to the audience rather than staying present. Actors who refuse to look imperfect or embrace vulnerability often fail despite natural talent, while those who remain open transform "mistakes" into authentic behavior. Even in high-speed comedy or stylized work requiring specific timing, the emotional truth must still be discovered anew each performance.
Chapter 11
The Actor's Power of Yes
The most important word in acting is yes. This simple affirmation serves as the antidote to self-criticism and fear. Without embracing yes, actors cannot fully explore their choices or push beyond their limitations. Negativity prevents the follow-through necessary for artistic growth and performance excellence.
Being positive requires more courage than being negative because it risks disappointment. I discovered this through my own struggle with my "negative introject"-the critical inner voice that I had to consciously combat by creating a positive counterforce. Through daily affirmations and therapy, I gradually learned to love myself.
Actors must say yes to all their impulses, sensations and emotions-even uncomfortable ones-as long as they've done proper character homework. When Kevin Spacey spontaneously blew a kiss to his mother in "Lost in Yonkers," he trusted his impulse and created a moment so powerful it was later incorporated into the published script. The power of yes enables actors to overcome their internal obstacles and fully commit to their creative process.
When actors refuse to embrace certain aspects of humanity because they fear reinforcing stereotypes, they severely limit their artistic expression. I worked with Nina, an elegant African-American actress who avoided expressing anger or sensuality because she identified these qualities as "lower-class black stereotypes." After deliberately provoking her by shouting, "You are not a black woman, you are a repressed white woman!" she finally accessed her authentic rage and delivered a powerhouse performance.
Any part of yourself-race, nationality, sexuality, socioeconomic background-that you disown cripples your artistic freedom. Great actors like Zero Mostel transcend stereotypes through specificity, making characters like Tevye in "Fiddler on the Roof" universally relatable through their humanity.
True confidence comes from self-knowledge-understanding both strengths and weaknesses, standing behind your artistic choices, and fighting creatively for what illuminates the work. Like Picasso who, when told his portrait didn't look like Gertrude Stein, calmly replied, "It will."
Elia Kazan wrote "Effort is all"-meaning diligent commitment to both technique and self-knowledge. Real artists remain open to growth, like Oscar-winner Juliette Binoche who, despite success, continued studying to improve. Self-knowledge allows you to recognize and change weaknesses. The actors fulfilling their creative goals are those who've worked hardest to overcome their limitations.
