Poll Do you prefer "method" acting or more "straight" acting (16 votes)
So I'm going to front load this with a couple of explanations and equivocations:
- I know it looks like I've loaded the poll to prefer one option, but that's only because I feel like there are myriad reasons you might choose no, but only really one obvious reason you would choose yes. Don't take it as evidence that my mind is solidly made up about the issue!
- I think it might be useful if people who post just write a little bit about what they understand the term "method acting" to mean, just because it's a bit, because it's a quite nebulous term.
So over the past few years when I watch movies, I've been trying more and more to think about the acting in them and whether it's good or bad, and why I think that, and to what extent I think that is the fault of the actor (surprisingly not that often), the director (a lot more often), the script (most often) or whatever else. This is largely because I never used to be particularly alive to the performances of actors, either in terms of judging them or interpreting them, and I've been making an effort to include this into my repetoire as a viewer, so to speak.
And the main thing I've taken from it as a whole is that I think a lot of the time the "method" is restrictive to the film, that it leads to films that I like less, essentially, when compared to other types of performance. For the purposes of this post I'll just quickly say that I understand method acting as the attempt to genuinely feel the emotions your portraying;So the simplest example might be a method actor needing to portray sadness remembering something that made them sad, I suppose. For me method acting seems like an attempt to "get inside" the character, either on a moment to moment basis (that old cliché: "what's my characters motivation here?") or in the extreme, by trying to become the character. Other actors might find that it is enough to know that the script says the character is sad; perhaps they have some movement, set of actions, facial expression and/or body language, learned by rote or internalised through practice that gives them the outward appearance of sadness. To an extent, my definition here of method is defined in opposition to this practice. It is probably best described by that old story about Laurence Olivier's reply to Dustin Hoffman asking for advice on how best to get into character for a scene: "Try acting, my boy."
So I guess the first thing is what's the difference, right? The outward manifestation of emotion and motivation is all we ever get anyway (not accounting for devices like voiceover, a convenient journal or even the boost that the language of cinematic staging and editing gives us), so ultimately it should have a very minor effect on the film, right? Well that's what I find interesting. When I look at performances by some of the most famous method actors, and compare them to performances by some famous actors from other "schools" the thing that strikes me is how intense those performances often are. The example that most immediately springs to mind is Al Pacino, an actor I greatly admire.
OK, that might not be the best example: supposedly it came about after several underwhelming attempts led him to do something a little out of the ordinary. But it's not the only moment like this; Pacino's character is very tightly wound and frequently explodes, and if you'll forgive me speculating, perhaps Pacino's closeness to a character he was playing as filled with barely suppressed rage contributed to that particular solution. Now I'm not denying that it works in this movie, and the fact that it all pivots on a long, quietly contemplative cafe conversation only makes outbursts like this more effective. But for me, that intensity doesn't work as well in, say, Scarface or the third Godfather movie. This kind of stuff is often said to be a product of his post Scent of a Woman work, but I think even as early as say, Serpico, Pacino was letting his characters' emotions occasionally get the better of him.
In the other corner, my go to example is probably Ralph Fiennes, who is probably best known for his more out-there, scenery chewing roles in Harry Potter or In Bruges, but who I admire most for films like The Constant Gardener and The End of the Affair. This is a scene from the former film I always found quite moving:
Perhaps people will disagree with me, and I know it is hard to glean a huge amount from a scene placed out of contect, but to me, there are a lot of subtle moments that I appreciate about his performance here. In the moment where he and Rachel Weisz's character walk up the garden path to the house, his body language really effectively conveys his awkwardness, for example. So what is the difference? Why am I lenient to the intensity of Fiennes weeping at the end of that clip, but less so towards the intense shouting of Pacino?
And I guess my answer is that everything about Fiennes' performance seems to be working in concert with the film. The subtlety of his body language as they walk up the garden path is great because quite apart from any naturalism of it, it conveys something in his character in the split second that the film allows for what is essentially an establishing shot. Likewise, the intensity of his weeping is as much due to the editing (sustained shot), the script and the music and so on, and he is as intense as all those other things need him to be (incidentally, I always like the touch where as he is most vocal, he seems to reign himself in, which seems very true to life). By contrast, in that scene, and many others like it, Pacino grinds the film to a screeching halt. It works for that movie, but it certainly forces the hand of the director, I feel; how many scenes in films have you scene in which a massive outburst like that prompts a sustained shot of the actor's face? The lens can't help but be enthralled by the power in a performance like that.
And nor, it seems, can we. Phrases like "powerhouse performance" are thrown around a lot in critical reviews, and never pejoratively. We are endlessly fascinated by stories of the lengths actors go to to prepare for film roles, and to some extent, I wonder whether that ultimately, both in what we bring to the viewing of those films, and what is immanent in them, that is in service of the story or not. It is no accident, incidentally, that I chose and american actor and a british actor: Most UK actors you will have heard of will have begun on the stage, training at Rada or somewhere similar, because that's just a bigger part of acting here (I feel). This probably contributes to the differences in the way acting is taught, because when you are being taught to act for the stage, body language, vocal inflection and so on become more important to your craft, and actors take that into their films. In Hollywood, the cinematic tradition has grown up apart from the stage, with a language of facial close-ups where the emotion in your eyes becomes a focal point. It's no surprise that trying to display emotions from within becomes more important.
Obviously there is a lot more wiggle room than I'm accounting for in this post, and there is also the point that if an actor gives a better performance one way than another, it doesn't matter much which side they fall on. However, what I do feel is that often that intensity that is a hallmark of method acting becomes in itself a signifier for "good" acting. But for me, I feel like often this harms the naturalism of the film, partly because in concert with the facial close-up, individual moments of emotion become so prominent within a film that it's as naturalistic as old silent films, where every facial expression had to be exaggerated for the audience. By contrast, I feel that actors who focus less on the individual emotions of their character, and more on the interactions within the scene, build up a gentler, more natural picture of who their character is.
So yeah, sorry for such a long post, but I felt I wanted to explain my thoughts as much as possible here, and I'll probably eluciadate and modify some statements as the thread progresses. I'd just be really interested to hear what people think, both about this question and about acting and what makes good acting in general.
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