Tuesday, August 21, 2007

The Whole World is Hollywood, and Everyone Loves Drama!!!

"So, what script are you pitching?" No reply. "What script are you acting from?," you ask me. "I guess you're intensely involved in your character right now, and you've probably forgotten your on stage only pretending to be who you say you are. Why not follow me off-stage and tell me privately," you whisper to me in my ear.

Confused I walk off stage with you and stand behind the side curtain. "You do know you're acting, right? I mean we're all acting from our own particular scripts, with our own particular cues and hand-written notes in the margins, but you are aware that you're acting, right?," you ask me once again.
The thing is, I'm not aware it's just an act, I believe it's real. "What is she talking about, I muse to myself? Is she crazy?" "Of course I know it's just an act," I exclaim rather loudly. "So, what's your character all about?," you ask again.
I don't have anything to say, I'm terrified. I've invested so much time and energy into being myself, protecting myself, defending myself, improving myself, she couldn't possibly mean I'm an act? You notice my hesitation and turn me towards the stage.

"John there is playing the part of a devout Christian from the 'Archetypal Religious Script, Volume 547,' a favorite of several million I might add, and Janet, over there, is playing the promiscuous teenage girl from the '21st Century American Script, Edition 4, Volume 2.'" You go on and on pointing out the roles, the characters, the scenery they play within, the scripts they are studying, memorizing, torturing themselves to perfect. You point out the really good actors, the ones others are happy to watch perform, as well as those struggling, the ones rebelling against their roles, their given scripts. You point out all those trading in their worn out script for a nice new edition and the ones who are questioning their characters motivation and ability to perform.
"I guess I had never really looked around from back here," I whispered to you. "The perspective is quite different," I add. After a few moments of absorbing the scene I ask, "Where's the director?" You smile, so sweetly, "You don't remember? There's no director on stage, that role has been absorbed by each actor long ago. We're all directed from the inside now, but if you want to meet some excellent directors we can walk over to the toddler's wing when we have our next official break." You point towards the back of the theatre where one can just make out the tiny actors being repeatedly directed into their characters.

"So, what role are you playing, I haven't seen you around before?," you curiously ask again. "Do you mean who am I?," I ask begrudgingly, still some what confused. You laugh and laugh and hold me in a tight embrace. You ever so softly remind me..."We don't have to act right now, we're off stage, remember?" I sit for a moment in silence and then hug you back as warm tears fall down my cheek and onto your shoulder. "You're right, we don't have to act anymore, we're no longer on stage!!!!!!"