racheltalalay:

Warnings: Long-Winded Post. Probably some kind of spoilers.

Does not include coded messages.

Opinions, not facts.  

It’s been a while since I’ve written a production post. Since the script to The Six Thatchers has not been published on-line, I cannot do a scene breakdown, like I did on Heaven Sent. Instead, I have decided to respond to the posts that  question my statement that I had not read The Final Problem when I directed The Six Thatchers. These thoughts turned into a rumination on approaches to directing actors and scenes.

[Note: This post relates to television directing — which is almost always on a very tight schedule. It is not relevant to theater or situations where the director is provided with significant prep time.]

Let me start by correcting the fans who stated that I was not allowed to read TFP. This is untrue. I chose not to read it when it became available to me.

Instead I chose to employ what I have termed “Audience-Oriented Direction”.

For those who are knowledgable about the teaching of acting and directing, one ‘rule’ of directing is never to use something termed “Result-Oriented Direction”. This is considered  a classical noobe mistake with regard  to  ‘how to direct actors’.  Simply stated, the director should not direct an actor with a “result”, but  should use action verbs and give objectives and/or scenarios.

This concept can be difficult to understand and explain, so I’ve found someone proper to do it for you:

http://www.ernestgoodmanstudio.com/20-examples-of-result-directing/

This ‘rule’ is taught to both directors and actors. Frequently new directors read Judith Weston’s  “Directing The Actor”, which promotes this idea and includes a list of these action verbs.

However, because I am ornery and rebellious, I want to burn this book. This is simply one approach, not a fact, and it’s an approach that seems to worry many young directors who do not come from acting. For the director who loves the technical and the creative, but is not experienced with actors, this (and blocking) are often their biggest worries. So they turn to books for instruction and come up with this ‘rule’. Then, on set, it leaves them tongue-tied when they could be lucid, and makes them even more scared of speaking to actors.  

And I frequently hear actors complain that the director didn’t direct. (The director had a few other concerns — this is not theatre with months of rehearsals  – so the director was likely directing everything visual, just not the actors.)

I can’t see the horror in result-oriented directing. Sometimes, ‘it’s feeling a bit slow now that we’ve repeated it a few times’ is a useful direction. You can say ‘do it as if you are being chased by a banshee’, but just reminding an actor to be fresh, remember to listen, don’t get lost in the camera positions, the props, and the repetition, can be helpful.]

So, what do I believe then?

My own approach is that every actor is different and it is my job to place them in a space where they can do their best work.This means different styles of direction for each individual. This means that sometimes result-oriented direction might be the best choice — it can lead by its simplicity. Some actors crave that. Sometimes no direction is appropriate, an actor does not want to be bothered with a lot of clutter [‘don’t get in my head’] and can be relied upon to continue to work a scene and improve it. Some actors want/need to talk about the whole character or discuss back story. Others are just sweating to remember their lines and deal with the action or props   — and have already embodied the history — so too much discussion is a disaster for them.

The rule that one must use ‘action verbs’ is one that can be hard for new directors, because it’s hard enough to articulate what will assist an actor without second-guessing one’s own vocabulary. So I prefer the approach that involves trying to figure out the actor first, not placing everyone into a box.

When I talk to actors about this whole process, mostly I learn that they want the director to be

clear and open to dialogue. The worst directions are ones that confuse the actors and muddy their performances. I can usually see in their eyes whether I’ve articulated something with which they can work. It’s a dynamic process — it changes per scene and per individual and group.

Within that approach, I have come up with a term:  “audience-oriented” directing. For each scene I ask “What do I want the audience to understand/feel/see” and then I set about creating a series of shots, blocking, locations, design, acting, etc, that attempts to evoke those responses.

Sometimes I will take this audience-oriented direction to the actors. I will say “The way I read this scene… What the audience is supposed to get out of the scene is…:” and state what I’m aiming for. Note two things. By starting with “the way I read this scene”, I show that I am open to the idea that they may have a different interpretation.  When I suggest the entire result of the scene, the actor is then given the challenge to create a performance that represents that.

So the direction is open enough for the actor to feel it is theirs to create and own, but closed enough because the bigger objectives are there. Within that overview, I will give more specific directions as necessary. One thing I generally like about this approach is that the actor is part of the

process and free to talk about their approach to the whole scene. A prepared actor will have gone through a version of the same process, determining how they fit into the scenario. So we will immediately know if we are in sync. If so, we can discuss how to get to where we are going. If not, we

know the playing field and the material is there to debate.

Simply put, I would change the words “Directing” and “Acting”. Directing sounds dictatorial and non-collaborative. Acting sounds like faking it.

I see myself as a collaborative CAO (chief artistic officer). I am guiding a team to a single goal.

And I don’t want to see ‘acting’,  I want the audience to believe the character.

So really, audience-oriented direction is the ultimate result-oriented direction, but not in the traditional sense of ‘be louder or faster’. The result is the audience takeaway, not the line-reading.

How this relates to Sherlock

My first reading of any script is in many ways the most important, because it’s the only time I’m feeling what a virgin audience feels — if I’m misdirected, I react to those surprise emotions. If I think something is funny or emotional, I hang onto those feelings.

The next few times I read it, I’m getting under the skin of a scenes and start figuring out how to represent them. But that first read is where I am the audience.

So , why didn’t I read The Final Problem? Because I did not want those results to influence the episode. I wanted to concentrate on the story as the audience would discover it.

For instance, did I even need to know who Euros really is?

No, because for T6T, E is Watson’s bus-text/sext? flirtation. It actually reads like a superfluous subplot. And it elicited some angry reactions. Why is John ‘cheating’? If the episode hinted at E’s real identity in any way, it would fail on its simple assignment of introducing this complex character. The super-analyzers would know that the creators do very little randomly and would think harder about her character but most viewers would analyze at face value — what’s going on with John that he’s flirting? Any more and I’m a spoiler.

If I had read all the episodes in advance, I would have made the same decisions, just been more conscious not to give things away.

Did I need to know that this episode was leading to Sherlock’s mental disintegration? (which I did know). Not really — one does not know the future and cannot predict inciting incidents for mental breakdown. Life is varied and unpredictable and crazy and beautiful and painful and one thing does not necessarily lead to another in an ordered way.

Directing the episode for itself seemed like the right decision at the time.

I welcome your comments.