That Inner Critic
Actors are a strange and unusual bunch. Actors, for the most part, like to present themselves “ego-first”. That is to say, an actor walks into a room, and they want everyone there to think that they are the most self-confident person in the room (if not the universe). This of course, is a lie. Its a very well constructed lie (and for many a very convincing one), but its a lie all the same. Actors are insecure. That’s not a generalization. I’ve never met an actor that wasn’t. Actor’s by their nature, require validation of some kind.
Without the validation, the inner critic will voice its opinion and destroy the actor’s self-worth and self-confidence with just a few severe criticsims. Nothing is as destructive as the inner critic. And since the inner critic sits inside the actor’s own head, it knows exactly the things to say that will beat down the actor and destroy their confidence.
That’s one of the reasons why a director is so necessary for an actor. Its a director’s job to validate the actor (let them know when they are doing well), to reign in their excesses (because let’s face it, no one can be as excessive as an actor), and to encourage them to stop playing safe and take risks. The best directors are able to almost effortlessly do all three. Each actor involved in the scene needs to feel like they are getting attention. I’ve known actors (and I’ve been one of these at times), who would rather get feedback that they are doing something “wrong”, rather than get no feedback at all. At least you’d be getting some feedback. Some attention. Actor’s eat it up.
What brought this to mind today? Why, writing of course. Because when writing, there’s no director to validate you. Its just you. When an actor seeks validation from the Director, it helps to silence their Inner Critic, because - hey! If someone outside themselves thinks they are doing well, or is worth the time to correct completely horrid.
Well, with all the writing I’ve been doing today, the inner critic has been working over time. I’ve been feeling very accomplished and happy with the sheer amount I have managed to get done. But the inner critic will raise its ugly head and tell me exactly what it thinks of the work I’ve been doing. I believe the word “vomit” comes up frequently. The inner critic likes to tell me things that I already know, and he has such a way with words:
“Its shit,” says the Inner Critic, as I sit happily typing away.
“Its just a rough draft,” I tell the IC, “it doesn’t have to be perfect, after all that’s what ‘rough draft’ means.”
“Its still shit,” says IC, “and its overly talky.”
“I know that,” I say as patiently as possible, “like I said, its a rough draft. I can go back later on, and clean it up.”
“I don’t see why you would bother,” says IC. “You don’t really have any talent in writing. Look at this. You’re doing a lot of talking about things, but are the characters really listening to each other? Are they conversing? You really don’t have any talent for dialogue.”
I ignore the Inner Critic. And so, he sits quietly for a little while. Then, just when I think I’m safe…
“You know that Now Magazine will rip you to shreds for this, right?”
I’m losing patience. “Why is that?” I ask.
“All these religious ideas. They hate that stuff. If you’re not going off on the church and talking about priests and boys and scandals, they don’t want to hear it. They will rip this play apart.”
I’m ready for that one. “They liked the Last Days of Judas Iscariot.”
“You want to compare yourself to that?” Says IC. “You’ve got some nerve. This is nowhere near as good as that.”
“Maybe not yet. But who knows? It might be one day. Its only a rough draft.”
And on it goes. I’m learning to shut out the voice - or at least ignore it for a while. I’d like it if it would just shut up. I really want to get this finished. I can worry when its done about whether its bad or not and whether its finished or not.
Sometimes I think that being an actor and having a director to validate me would be far easier than putting myself through this. But then…to be able to do that…I have to stop having ideas.
