Methinks I'm hosting second half of Theatresports today.
That'd be fun.
The first half will feature the winners of the Nosebowl, Mac, and they will be sizziling. I expect myself, Chad (my Hardy Boy brother), Amy and Mat will be in for a hot match. We're their opponents. I predict a tie, 8 to 8, and we'll have to break it with "Da Doo Ron Ron" (you know, that snappy little tune by The Crystals, or *sigh* Shaun Cassidy). But who cares about score, right?
On a wee bit of a sidetrack, some of you know that I've appeared a couple of times on Help!TV recently. Once with my fellow RFTers, once on my own. And I learned a valuable lesson: You can't always do what you want. I've been spoiled by improv. When I was given a specific activity to do by the director (he wanted me to pretend that I was "passing gas"), I really didn't think it was cool. Then I realized, "Dude, this is what acting used to be all about. Somebody gives you some lines or bit of business, then you do it."
Whoa.
It has been a while since someone has told me what to do on stage (or in this case, on screen... uh, television, I don't really know the proper terminology) . It was a nice dose of reality. It helped me to understand why the dude with the fake russian accent says "Now that's what I call a car alarm" on that Smirnoff commercial. Somebody told him to do it. He's not inherently uncool, the writer of that line is.
It's not to say you have no input as an actor. You don't tell the director that their idea sucks, you show them (by doing that bit as best as you can, and if it looks stupid, a good director will change it). I still love improv, and I still love that rush it gives me that no other theatre can. I just think being told what to do was... in retrospect... refreshing.
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