Oh, I’m In the Moment Now, Jerk!

When I lived in Boston, one of my actor friends starred in a production of King Lear at a highly respected regional theater. When he told me the company was importing a name actor to play the title role – we’ll call him Bob – I was thrilled. I’d enjoyed Bob in various film and television roles and knew he’d acted and directed shows on Broadway, so I couldn’t wait to see his work on stage.

My friend explained further that Bob wouldn’t be rehearsing with them due to his busy schedule, and would only join them for the final weeks before opening. That’s okay, I thought. Bob is a pro – he’ll still be fantastic.

When Bob arrived in Boston and started rehearsing with the cast, my friend reported the experience was not what he expected. Apparently Bob was a fierce narcissist who didn’t know any of his lines, even after they opened, yet felt free to tell everyone what they were doing wrong.

Worst of all, he had a penchant for randomly slapping his fellow actors, grabbing their crotches, and kissing the female actors inappropriately during performances – none of which was previously discussed or rehearsed – all because he was “in the moment.”

During one particular performance, the actress playing Goneril exited the stage disgusted and said to my friend, “He just kissed me with tongue.” Right before running to wash the taste of jerkwad out of her mouth. Not cool, dude.

Immediately and permanently, I lost all respect for Bob. Because even though he’d been nominated for a Tony Award and starred in one of the most beloved films of all time, he should have known better than to trespass on his fellow actors in such an untrustworthy way.

Acting requires safety – safety in oneself, safety within the space, and safety among peers to go deep, explore, and take risks.

Think about Colin Firth’s crying scene in The King’s Speech – to create a performance in which his character is completely vulnerable and broken down with fear, Colin needed the support and respect of his co-star Helena Bonham Carter, director Tom Hooper, and the entire crew to maintain a serious tone and allow him time and space on set to mentally prepare. Helena and Tom probably prepared in their own ways as well.

Can you imagine if Helena unexpectedly slapped Colin in the middle of the scene because she was “in the moment?” No, because that would be an unthinkable act of selfishness. It has nothing to do with the scene and it would have trespassed on the work at hand.

I’ve worked with actors who trespass on my trust. Who cross my physical boundaries on stage because they’re “in the moment,” don’t exit on their cue when they’re supposed to because they’re “in the moment,” and who touch me in inappropriate places because they’re “in the moment.” All without telling me beforehand, thinking they’re helping my performance when really they’re taking me out of it and destroying any trust that might have been there between us. I hate these people because they think they’re being actors when really they’re just being selfish bastards.

To be clear, Leonardo surprising me with a kiss before our scene at the DGA event last Saturday was NOT a selfish act, because it was a move meant to help both of us get in character. We were also in a safe space for playing and exploring, so I was able to take it in and use it.

But if Leo had kissed me while we were doing a scene from King Lear, in which he’s playing my frickin’ father, just because he felt like doing it “in the moment,” I probably would have slapped HIM.

Anyone else been trespassed upon by thoughtless actors? Post your stories below!

And if you’re reading this blog post realizing YOU’RE one of those thoughtless actors, CUT IT OUT!

My Day Among the Stars

On Saturday, I had the privilege of participating in a workshop-panel event at the Director’s Guild of America (DGA) called The Director – Actor Relationship. Sandy Tung, Co Chair Emeritus of the DGA’s Asian American Committee, and Michelle Krusiec of Saving Face fame organized the event to explore the critical relationship between Directors and Actors. I was one of six actors paired off and matched with a director to perform a scene in front of the group.

The day was surreal. First of all, check out the Asian-American star power on the panel with me:

Keiko Agena - Lynn Chen - Michelle Krusiec - Leonardo Nam - Aaron Yoo

If you don’t know who these actors are, you should. They’re the Asian-American A-List. What was my D-List ass doing with them?

I was paired with Leo to perform a scene from Hannah and Her Sisters. I played Lee, the sister in the middle:


I’ve never seen the movie (I know, I know) but I was able to find the script at Drew’s Script-O-Rama and read it before Saturday. Unfortunately it was a transcript, not a writer’s script, so it was rife with hyper-specific stage directions and clunky language, but I got the idea. I specifically did NOT watch the movie because I didn’t want it to influence my performance. I attempted to memorize the scene the night before and figured I’d go on stage with pages in hand just in case.

When it was our turn, our director Henry Chan kept us in our seats for a cold readthrough first. Whew! We were reading the scene on the street after Elliot kisses Lee in her loft and runs out. As soon as Henry started directing, I felt an enormous sense of relief and excitement because he was speaking the actor’s language, asking us what our characters wanted and guiding us through the ups and downs of the scene.

After a few more readthroughs, we got on our feet. By then, the words were mostly in my head, but I held on to my pages just in case. Henry gave us more direction, then came over and whispered a few notes just for my benefit. With the audience craning their necks to hear, he did the same with Leo. Time to start the scene. I shifted my weight, thinking about Henry’s notes and getting into character, when Leo suddenly crossed the space between us...and kissed me.

The audience howled with laughter. I must have looked pretty stunned. But inside, I was grateful for the surprise – one kiss and my “moment before” was solidified – total shock!

(I do have to mention that this only worked because I respected and trusted Leo and Henry. I also felt I was in a safe space. Actors pulling surprises like that on their colleagues doesn’t work when there’s no trust between them. More on that in another blog post to come…)

The first runthrough was great – the room chuckled. Henry stepped in with another layer of direction and more private notes for both of us. When I tried to start the scene again, Leo stopped with me another kiss! The audience really laughed this time. It was a pretty good kiss.

The second runthrough was a blur. People told me afterward it was great and that my look of shock was priceless. Alas, I’ll never know what it looked like.

During the debrief portion of our time on stage, Leo and I both expressed appreciation that Henry understood the actor’s process and how to rehearse the scene in way that helped us find truth. So many directors get it wrong – simply telling us “be angry” doesn’t inspire us to give an authentic performance. That’s results-focused directing. Helping us understand what a character wants, what’s in their way, what they’re afraid of, etc. – that kind of direction allows us to create a performance that will sweat anger or any number of emotions along the way.

Such a fun day! I was so grateful to be included and so excited to see so many familiar faces in the audience. Definitely a day of feeling like part of a community.

If you have thoughts to share on the actor-director relationship or stories about the bad directors you’ve worked with, please share them below!

Fiction Friday: One Sunday at Angels Knoll Park, Part 1

She didn’t hate him, but she didn’t love him either. When she looked over at his sharp features – the strong nose, the prickly stubble, the wrinkled shirt – she felt instead that she was looking at a piece of art. Taking in his appearance for evaluation, preparing to write a dissertation on the futile beauty of unemployed twenty-somethings who called themselves artists.

What she didn’t feel was any tug on her heart, any longing to reach over and touch him, be close to him, be with him. She felt instead that she was perfectly comfortable on her side of the bench and hoped to God that he wouldn’t slide over.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he breathed, gazing at the Los Angeles cityscape as if it were the ocean off the Amalfi Coast. “You never see it this way.”

“Looks the same to me,” she said flatly.

“How can you say that?” He gestured fervently with his arms. “It’s incredible. Where’s your sense of romance?”

Exactly what she was wondering. He’d brought her to this place for a reason. His reason. He wanted to show her something that was important to his very being.

All she could think about was the half-eaten can of sardines in her fridge that she couldn’t wait to go home and finish. The loaf of pumpernickel bread she’d bought with the sardines was still plump and fresh, but it wouldn’t stay that way for much longer. She had to devour it before it was too late.

In the growing darkness of the evening, she saw bright flashes of light from behind her. She turned to see a small group of Japanese tourists taking their picture. A few had set up their tripods. She pulled her hoodie over her head immediately.

“What the hell are they doing?”

He looked behind him nonchalantly, as if it were perfectly normal to be the subject of this tourist paparazzi. He chuckled. “They must have seen the movie. They know it’s a landmark.”

“Japanese tourists have seen 500 Days of Summer?”

He turned toward the city again, straightening his shirt to back pose for the cameras. “That’s so cool. And we’re sitting here just like they were.”

But there was nothing cool about it. She hopped off the wooden bench and hustled away, slinging her bag over her shoulder. The cameras snapped like crazy. She hid behind a tree until the last tripod had been collapsed and stowed.

Click here to read One Sunday at Angels Knoll Park, Part 2

Fiction Friday: Romantic Comedy

Six more sentences formed into a tidbit of fiction...

The bitch knew exactly where to punch him in his emotional gut to make it hurt. Battered and inwardly bruised, he swore off women entirely, resigning himself to a safe, easy life of singlehood. When he went to the animal shelter to rescue a replacement companion, the sweet-faced girl who opened the cages lingered as he signed out, mentioning the location of the dog park where she jogged. He looked at his canine passenger on the way home and asked, “This one will be different, right?” And even though the jack russell terrier looked doubtful, she turned out to be a different girl with a different outlook on different interests indeed. He panicked at all the differences, but finally realized he’d rather be there for her to punch than out of the game entirely.

Life Made As Strange As Fiction

At a recent writer's seminar with Jen Grisanti, we were invited to write a log line for our life. An exercise to help us understand our own story. The components – a dilemma, action, goal, and ironic twist. Here’s mine:

When a typical Asian-American overachiever who was raised to be a doctor realizes she was born to be an artist, she embarks on the road less traveled to find love, happiness, and her own true voice – a journey that proves as long and hard as medical school.

What do you think?

Try it yourself – it’s a fascinating exercise. The theory is that writing log lines for your life is a way to discover and translate your truth into story ideas. Just add fiction and you have a new character!

Post yours below, if you dare.

Fiction Friday: Uptown

Six sentence fiction strikes again!

“I honestly don’t understand why the Nederlanders sold this place,” Priscilla mused over her imported coffee. It’s perfectly delightful, overlooks Central Park, and comes with a doorman who’s to die for.”

“For God’s sake, it’s haunted!” Janelle spat, clutching her Birkin bag to her chest in defense against the demons swirling around her, taunting her and her clueless friend with their gnashing teeth and blood-soaked eyes. “I know you wanted to move uptown, but you’re crazy if you stay another minute,” she cried and ran out the door, cowering under the onslaught.

“But they’re simply adjusting to change,” Priscilla called defiantly over her Prada clad shoulder, eyeing the otherworldly beings. “Eventually they’ll realize – I’m not going anywhere in this lifetime.”

Here Comes the Pitch!

You want to know what it takes to sell a television show? It takes BRASS BALLS to sell a television show, my friends. And it all starts with the pitch.

“But I’m a writer, not a salesman!” you wail. No, you need to be both. Whether you’re trying to get staffed on a show or impress a production company, you will be in many situations where you need to pitch your script. And the success of that pitch is directly related to your overall success.

Hold on, all you painfully shy writers out there who are freaking out. Pitching is a skill – all it takes is practice, practice, and more practice.

I practiced myself last night at the CAPE TV Pitch Lab, sponsored by CBS. I began by submitting a one-sentence logline and no more than 100 words describing my pilot. My description ended up being 97 words. Safe!

Last week, my name was announced as one of ten winners that would be pitching our shows to actual network executives, including Christina Davis, Senior Vice President of Drama Series Development at CBS. Do you love The Good Wife? Thank her.

A few of the chosen writers gathered to practice over the weekend. My pitch was too long, not to mention wordy and crappy. After working on it on my next few lunch breaks at work, I was ready.

I won’t comment on how my pitch went, other than to say this – it came, it saw, it kicked their ass! Yes, I left feeling a bit like Dr. Peter Venkman, smirk and all.

So I experienced firsthand the success of a solid pitch. Now it’s your turn – here are a few gems of advice that were offered by the execs last night for everyone pitching a television pilot:

• Be sure to outline the mechanics of what your show will look like from week to week. What will the characters be doing in each episode? How will each case or adventure unfold? Give examples that have a beginning, middle, and end.
  
  
• Visual aids should accent your pitch, not detract from it. Only use them if they’re easy to visually digest and reference during your pitch. And present any leave behinds at the end of your meeting.
  
  
• Beware of pilotitis! Otherwise known as a pilot that is filled with setup and back story, but doesn’t give a solid idea of what the series will look like after the pilot ends. Present your back story succinctly, then lead them to where your characters will be playing throughout the season.
  
  
• Introduce your characters and their emotional hooks before going too deep into story elements. They need to know who the audience should care about before diving into the plot.
  
  
• Even if you have an ensemble cast, there’s always a first among equals. Make it clear who that person is in your show.
  
  
• Know who you’re pitching to and format the style and content of your pitch to their brand. The same script should be pitched differently to different networks.

Coffee is for closers, people. Start practicing those pitches – you never know when you’ll need them.