American Beatuy Belly Flop/ I Love when newbies get it.

This past class was very disappointing to me. I really wanted to knock our American Beauty scene out of the park, and I felt that Andrew and I had the potential to really create something special on screen. I don't think we were terrible, but we were no where as good as we could have been, or even as good as where we were when we first read it down and did the shared history exercise. I just felt stuck in the same objectives and that they weren't taking me anywhere. I have been under pressure before, in fact I have been put under way worse pressure, but I just felt limited. Maybe I wasn't really listening to him--- because the work felt honest ---but it just felt as though it was sort of stuck in a glue mouse trap. I also think it helped that we were stuck together, so at least we were on the same page when it came to our issues. I know this is a wall that can pop up from time to time, and I also suppose it is up to the actor himself to figure out their own way around it. Had this happened to me, say a year, or even just a few months ago, I would have been extremely depressed and probably would have needed a week to get over feeling incompetent and ridiculous. However, as I have grown in experience and maturity level I think I am beginning to really learn from my mistakes and failures as opposed to just feeling hurt. This thick skin is, needless to say, vital.



BUT: I do concede that many of the issues we were having weren't our fault, and we had a lot to fight against that wouldn't normally be as big of an issue as it proved to be in the classroom setting. First the sub zero room temperature (what the hell was that about) Seriously, we walked into our normal sound stage and it was, no joke, probably like 45 degrees. So we had to move to the motion capture room which was not ideal for the different shots our scene called for. blah blah --I'm not trying to make excuses, but they are important to acknowledge I think in trying to unpack how things could have been better for us.





While I sat down feeling less than stellar, I have to say, I was very impressed with a one of the other scene and one particular performance. Watching the Wall Street scene it was absolutely stunning to see how far Sam, a production student as come. Something simply clicked with him during the shoot. I could not get the smile off my face as beat to beat he kept growing and doing interesting things. It was just so exciting to watch. All of sudden my lack of energy and enthusiasm for the moment returned and I desperately wanted to jump up and do our scene again. He was so present, so honest, it was electric. Probably even more so because he sort of had a personal acting break through. I feel like I rarely get to see these moments anymore since I have so many friends who are, at least in our little minds, veterans. While they are impressive and have their own great moments, nothing beats these very first moments of it truly clicking for new actors. I feel like I will be forever chasing that honesty that it so green and beautiful from new comers. Let's hope Thelma and Louise goes better for me yes? I have a strong feeling I will be doing the scene with an actor using Italian on me...

"There's a Method to my Madness!"

Shirley Jo got pissed tonight, and it was wonderful. I actually saw fear in eyes of colleagues when she threatened a final on all our heads. There are so many lazy actors out there who frankly need to leave the business and find something else to do with there time. They have absolutely no 'vision' nothing specific to how or when they see themselves. half is simple laziness and I may have other issues, but this has never been one of them. My vision for myself has always been extremely clear and tangible. I think I've been lucky. So many people have no idea what they want out of life. I've known since I was five. I thought everyone was just born knowing. I have subsequently found out that this is not true. Even when I was little I had passion and a lust for life, and as I have gotten older I just seem to overflowing over with it. Sometimes to the point where I'm not sure if I will ever be able to satisfy myself. I want to know everything. yes, I know this is ridiculous but I think it explains my college experience. I left a BFA program because I simply needed more than what it had to offer. To be the absolute best actor I can be I need to well versed in many disciplines.



I want to be a smart, diligent, actor who is in harmony with a director and communion with an audience. I also want to be an actor who can do anything. Like Kate Winslet, who is known to be fantastic and thus allowed to do whatever she fancies.



It is our job to channel the emotions that normal people can't deal with. And if you're actor who doesn't care enough about that, then I agree Shirley, they need to get the hell out.



Even though I didn't work tonight I found tonight's class to be very inspiring. The closing speech about when the actor has found how to channel the energy, gave me chills. Yes, I have felt this power before and it is other worldly and worth chasing. The best example I can think of is when Shakespeare text suddenly clicks within you. In London when I was working on Lady M, this happened for me. I have never felt so powerful. I could literally feel the energy and sexuality surging through my veins. Shakespeare seriously has all this majestic power that offers itself to actors who know how to get at it. I think That's probably why I am so interested in Shakespeare. It is certainly is the meatiest, healthiest text an actor can eat.

Let's Start at the very Begining--- It's a very good place to start.

The work is never, ever done. I feel like I have picked up a lot of useful one-liners that encapsulate the work, and yet, I easily forget about this knowledge the minute a get a second to put it in practice. I can tell myself this again and again, but it just flies out the window a lot of the time and I easily get wrapped up in trivial things: like be impressive and attractive on the big pretty shiny screen.



I'll admit it: I was feeling pretty cocky after last week's class. That doesn't mean I didn't rehearsal the piece or wake it up again for this class. However, I think I was very obviously way too worried about the audience. FORGET THE AUDIENCE. -- in film of course. This is a class setting and I simply was too worried if I was reaching them enough or not. I was not focused on my objective, the setting, or the relationships. I was thinking about effecting the rest of the class. This is not what film is about. I need to transcend the lens, so to speak. Though I was very clearly on autopilot I was still proud of the work that I did. I think I have grown a lot as an actor and I think my new found confidence was evident on the screen. What I find interesting is that my inherent self hatred that used to make this particular piece very powerful, without me having to work toward the emotion is gone. I feel like I used to really know what these words meant. To be so lost and wanting to just die, I was able to internalize this piece with a fairly sophisticated level of substitution. I still have insecurities but my deep loathing is no longer weighing me down anymore. I think I may have to find these again inside myself to bring this piece back form the dead.



Which brings me to my favorite jewel of the night. When you understand the moments (the relationships, the setting, all the Uta goodness) you don't need to plan or direct yourself in any way. If you do your home work it will simply happen organically. Writing it down it seems so obvious. ALLISON HOW MANY ACTING CLASSES HAVE YOU TAKEN?! WAKE UP. HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BEEN TOLD THIS? Still though, phrased that way, I' not sure anyone has ever put it that way. It just clicked with me tonight.





For next week I am going to do a complete and through character study and see what that releases with my new maturity. Just like I used to do in high school, over indulgent and obsessive, I think sometimes actors can get jaded and forget the beauty of the process. Even the stumbling and struggling bits lend themselves to gorgeous moments of honesty.


Libby- The Maiden's Prayer- Nicky Silver



-My present state of being is winding crushing, spinning desperation



-I perceive myself as a black desolate hole and impossible and immune to being loved by anyone.



- I am wearing the sexiest black dress I own.

-It is very late (2:30am) in the winter.



-I am in Paul (my best friend's) apartment in NYC on the fourth floor in room 416. Very Sketchy neighborhood.



-What has just happened is that I went to a bar hoping to dull my pain for Taylor and get more booze ( the love of my life who is marrying my sister and wants nothing to do with me anymore) where I was picked up by a fat older, but reasonably kind man, we had sex and then he paid me because he thought I was a common whore.


-My relationhships are best broken down sperately:


-Paul: my best friend who I met at my sister and Taylor's wedding. He means everything to me. He is the one person I feel I belong too and he belongs to me.


-Taylor: life and a promise of happiness.

I know this piece inside and out. Let's see what happens after this little refresher.

An Intense Sense of Play and Fierce Visuality: Or, I'm back.

I have no idea why I decided to start this up again. I didn't even like it that much when I had to do it for 340. It all seems so intensely self indulgent. But then I remembered that I am pursing the most indulgent of arts, so screw it. I mean-- I've had serious upper division classes that required me to write about my feelings and draw my aura with crayons. Who am I kidding? I'm obsessed with me. Might as well compartmentalise my self love and categorize it properly to stand the test of time.

Besides, I was lying. I actually loved doing this for 340. I even got an A on my (insert snooty cough here) academic blog attempt.



For my acting for film and TV class through the Cinema school (not Hacker) I am required to keep a journal (once again about my feelings, GOD I love my job), so I also figured this might be the easier way to do it. My acting journal will be organized, shiny and indestructible. Not to mention green. I am so getting close to the level of hip Hollywood elitist.


Probably because I have found myself in a strange, alien new phase of my life. Running out into the echo chamber of cyber -space seemed strangely inviting, and I have heard time and time again how important it is for actors to keep journals. By using blogger I can add videos and pictures at will and immortalize my 20 something self. I'm choosing to believe that this is a good thing.


I feel in Alien land because for the first time in a long time I am really questioning myself. My life is in the arts, but I have recently realized that I have the ability to be happy. What a novel concept, truly. I can and deserve to be happy and it is up to me to figure out where the artistic community exists that will best serve me. For a long time I accepted depression and just tried to function underneath it. London changed a lot for me. This summer changed a lot for me. Before all of this I was 100 % positive that Film and la la land where for me. Now, sitting in my apt (which is really the kindness of my friend's couch) I'm not sure. BUT, this is all far to exciting for the first return post.


This time last year I was on a plane to London. I honestly thought I would never come back. I felt as though that experience would be my new existence. One thing I have learned is that no matter how hard you try to hold onto life the way it is, you will still lose it every time. Nothing is permanent. Happiness and bliss are fleeting. They take you by surprise and leave you just as quickly wondering if you simply dreamed it all up. Probably why I love acting so much.


That sounded very bleak--- but make no mistake, I am currently happy. My life is still exciting. Just strange. I am certainly navigating new waters with lots of new characters and the future's so bright I got to wear shades. Hip Target shades.

Artist Statement.

The actor is the prism through which society can re-imagine itself. The role of representation and storytelling is a very heavy responsibility. The actor must be aware and actively interested in the story and depiction and be willing to tell everyone’s story.




It is impossible for me to separate my politics from my acting. I simply will never do it and I find morally reprehensible that anyone ever would. I don’t care how ‘annoying’ that makes me, I don’t care that Fox News will call me a left wing lunatic, and that I potentially will be alienating part of my audience. Frankly, I don’t care because if they feel alienated by the stories I plan to tell, then they deserve it. Actors have an equal right to voice their opinions as every other tax paying citizen in the country. As an actor, I do not view my craft as a form of escapism. I spit on the notion that my only contribution to our society is to ‘entertain’ or be just an object for the male gaze. Certainly, I want people to enjoy my work but I refuse to buy in to stories or images I believe to be wretched or inaccurate depictions. I want my audience to be steamrolled with stories they need to hear and characters they need to meet.

By politics I'm inferring I’m very aware of the characters I am portraying, what they mean to a audience, and that my first goal is social change. If actors are not striving to open up public conversation in topics through story that may make some uncomfortable…Then what is the point of being an actor? Without social progressive and giving voices to people that have none, and being a vessel for storytelling, then actors are diminished to little aesthetic play things for everyone else in the theatre/film community. I am no one’s play thing.

Writers, directors, visual artists, all have the power and I would stress the LUXURY to be able to forget about all issues and just focus on THEIR story. Not actors. We represent the people and it is our duty to pose difficult questions. A writer may create a question but it is the ACTOR that brings it to life and makes the audience want to listen to the words in the first place. When an audience sits in a theatre, cinema or stage, they only stay because they find the acting compelling. Everyone is drawn to the simple communication and active conflict between actors. They don’t stay in their seat thinking about the magic of lighting, sound, or the writing.

Actors are by far the biggest drawn to a film. With that power an actor must make responsible choices.

I’m not interested in empty blockbusters with even emptier eyed female accessories. For too long the constrictive patriarchal nature of our society has been seeping into cinema and furthering the negative and entirely one viewed perception of what it means to be female. The female actor is currently the most under appreciated and socially constructed element in entertainment.

I am interested in the messy areas of human life. I am drawn to female characters that are complex, strong, but ultimately human and entirely woman.

The Art of Serious Playtime

See that girl in the black tutu hanging from the bar? That would be me.

I won a baby beauty pageant. Clearly, I am elated about my win and can’t wait to use my platform for human rights. Take that Miss California!

***

My father snores as loud as a dragon. It’s like the white flag of surrender on the home front. It means my father is sleeping deeply and that my mother, the light sleeper and bad cop, is sleeping even deeper and not going to wake for anything. It means that now I can run amuck.


People always tried to give me Barbie dolls. My mother would always have to secretly return them. I found it a bit of a scam that all Barbie dolls had the same no- life facial expression. I knew it was all a big trick when for a Christmas or Easter, or some other excessively commercialized holiday, I was given a Skipper doll who is supposed to be Barbie’s sister or friend or some other supporting character in the world of Barbie. I held the little, inhumanly thin doll and inspected her. She did have long and pretty dark hair--the kind of hair that Barbie certainly would be caught dead in. When I pushed Skipper’s hair out of her face, I threw her across the room in complete terror. It was Barbie’s glazed, blue-shadowed gaze looking back at me! It was like a Barbie Frankenstein. Some monster had put Barbie’s head on Skipper’s body. That’s when I went and locked all of them in the big pink Barbie trunk under my bed. I swear, at night I could hear them whining and scratching with their long perfect pink talons against the cold plastic of the sugar-pink Barbie trunk and pleading in high distorted soprano to be let out.

No matter where you go in our modest house you can’t escape the roar of my father’s dreams. I hear him as I creek open my door, spilling my star night light all over the hall. My house is not my house at night. It is deathly quiet with strange shadow creatures slithering all over the powder blue walls. The house sighs and creeks with history. I know this is an impossible and dangerous task, but I will have to endure it. I gather my strength and clutch Allosaurus tightly to my heart, and we venture into the great beyond.

I had begun to believe that I was relatively defective in relating to other kids about pretend time. All the other little girls loved Barbie. However, my imagination seemed way too realistic in relation to toys or dolls. It certainly didn’t help that I believed that Barbie was a blonde demon I had captured in a trunk under my bed. It was terrible trying to pretend with other little kids. They were way out of their league. I took imagination time very seriously, and you did not mess around with Allison’s pretend time. It was like I was born on fire. I came into this world with passion seeping out my pores with an intensive thirst for life. I had so very much to do, there were so many places to visit and characters to be and meet. My adamant belief in the pretend world and immersion within my own world made me an outsider nearly right away.

I don’t remember who gave them to me because I was blinded by my immediate love for them. It was a thirty-piece, and scientifically accurate, dinosaur set. This was not just any kid’s play set, mind you, but real life miniature replicas with the scientific names printed on their bellies, little beady eyes that locked with yours and each one a totally different character. They all felt so incredibly alive in my hands. I could feel their little hearts thumping in my palm just aching to go into my world--not like the corpse of the cold Barbie.

Each dinosaur was a very specific person with a very specific voice and personality. It wasn’t long before their true natures began to emerge. The Raptor with his blackish green gothic-type skin was a huge chain smoker with a manic-depressive personality who wore only faded-out black. Tyrannosaurus was a big girly girl who, to her dismay, would continually bite her tongue as a nervous tick. Triceratops, who was the villian, spoke with a wet lisp and was always running around trying to stir up some trouble. Of course, there was the horrible but fantastic womanizer: the Duck-billed Dinosaur with his slick swap-blue skin. It was like a daily dinsosaur soap opera-- love, betrayel, fighting passion, and all under the looming threat of being obliterated by a giant comet or massive volcanic eruption. This all depended on my mood of course.
There was also the heroine of dinosaur land. She had intense ridged-red skin with round, little bright eyes. It was the Allosaurus. Of course, it was probably the play on my name that helped encourage that relationship. I don’t think it had to be dinosaurs. My interest in them wasn’t scientific. Although, of course, I did have a fairly regular role as the walk-on paleontologist in case my dinosaur series needed some scenes in the present-- when all the dinosaurs were just bones in the dirt.

I walk quickly keeping my heels from patting the floor. I looked in her eyes and she assures me that we would absolutely be fine. “Don’t worry, everyone’s asleep. They won’t hear you. How long have we been thinking about this? ” Allosaurus and I hold our breath, and we quietly sneak toward the bookcase with my heart in my throat as my eyes dart wildly around the room. With a shaking hand I open the bookcase to reveal a dusty book on one of the forgotten shelves. It’s my grandmother’s bookcase, and I am “so not” allowed to touch it. I pick up this old book I have been eyeing for months, and I can barely contain myself from crying out in excitement. This is the book that holds all the secrets of my inherited performance past.

I was promptly enrolled in children’s theatre and acting classes as a hope of getting some of my impossible creative energy out. I couldn’t believe that my fantasy world was a career option; even from such a young age it just felt right. Even before my dinosaurs I had an overactive imagination and was obsessed with my overgrown backyard. I would spend hours and hours outside imagining I was someone else. The story was nearly always the same. I was always some sort of warrior princess who was a master fighter exploring mystical lands. It all seemed so real. The details of my castle seemed more real and tangible then my own little house.
It was so obvious that I would go into theatre. My parents didn’t even attempt to interest me in other things. They both already knew it was a lost cause. There was no moment for me--no single moment-- where the light bulb flicked on and I thought, “Oh, so I’m an actor, that’s great. I guess I’ll go to Juilliard, win an Oscar and that’s that.” I am still suspicious of anyone who claims to have a very specific moment when the acting bug bit them. I’m convinced that there has to be an actor gene. How else could I have possibly known? How could my parents, a piano teacher and a businessman, have known?

“Don’t worry, everyone’s completely asleep. They won’t hear you.” Allosaurus and I held our breath as we opened the book, and I turned on my Disney Princess flashlight. There it was and as plain as day. The book was in Russian, but I knew what it said. This is why they have been hiding me out here in the suburbs. I’m part of the long lost Romanov family! No wonder everyone thinks I’m so crazy! In a fever I drop Allosaurus and everything comes falling down. I hear the snoring stop, and I hear my mother in a panic coming toward me. “ Oh, It’s all over now so you might as well pack your bags-- they are going to send you back to Russia to peal potatoes!”, a disgruntled Allosaurus moans from the floor. “Allison Marie! What are you doing in there?! It’s 2 am! You are never going to get up for school tomorrow...” Just like that, my mother pulls me back into the real world.

Just as my eyes are hazel and my skin is pale, my heart and soul are that of a performer. My family is of the sensible stock, and I am a first-generation actor. When I was little, I firmly believed that my father’s Eastern European heritage could be traced back to some sort of mystical Russian gypsy troupe that probably entertained the Romanovs and even that I potentially was the lost Anastasia herself. Actually, I still sort of believe that--the gypsy part anyway.

I can’t even recall a time I didn’t want to be an actor. I could never understand how other kids and later young adults didn’t know what to pursue. I took my first formal class when I was about eight. I had my first lead role by the time I was ten in Jane Eyre, and my life has continued to be fantasy based. By becoming a vessel for storytelling, theatre and acting helped me harass all my creative ability. I wasn’t just an over active child anymore. I was a well employed child actor.

I have always found our world somewhat unsatisfying. My pretend backyard kingdoms were more beautiful, my dinosaur friends were funnier, and I, myself, had a far more glamorous nature in a pretend world. I have always been looking for something better even if it doesn’t exist. By utilizing the power of imagination as an actor, I am able to hook in to the underlying truth that exists in fantasy and reality.
Acting in its rawest state is playing. It is saying yes to whatever circumstances of the world have been designed for you regardless of the role you play in the real world. I don’t think that I ever grew out of pretend. I just matured and made it the professional part of my life. I just put the dinosaurs away and went to theatre college.
I pursue acting everyday completely seriously--just as I took speaking to my dinosaurs and as I believed that my Barbie and Skipper dolls were trying to claw their way out of a trunk. I have grown up with my life centered completely on make believe. I think all of us theatre and film artists have Peter Pan complexes. We all just want to tell stories and certainly do not want to grow up in the traditional sense of the mundane.
Our world is not all friendly dinosaurs. Luckily for me, my interest in characters and my obsession with fantasies are enough to keep my actor’s head above water. Nothing has really changed. I still want to tell stories, my stories, your story, stories that need to be heard. I want to walk in other people’s shoes, and I want to bring light to lives so often forgotten. The only difference is now--I want to bring the audience along with me.

Adolescence Kills: The Real Villian of Battle Royale

“Life is a game. So fight for survival and see if you’re worth it”, proclaims Kitano to his class of seventh graders in his explanation of why they have been brought to an island to kill each other in the name Millennium Education Reform Act. The film Battle Royale directed by Kinji Fukasaku became a scandal for its brutal portrayal of violence against and by children and became a huge cult success for its direct social commentary on the social structures of Japan. Battle Royale, with its Lord of Flies’ deconstruction of human behavior, showcases for the audience the extreme measures the Government is willing to go to in order to maintain control of the failing social structures and unruly children in the name of control; however, the Government ends up breeding the violence they want to destroy. In the end, Battle Royale isn’t just a game--it’s the Japanese way of life.


The film attempts to identify the reasons for the dangerous, disenchanted youth by examining the root of the problem: The parents who believed they would have life- long employment and found they were eventually ‘restructured’ or, in layman terms, laid off. As the director states in an interview with the website Midnight Eye, “…since the burst of the bubble economy, these adults, many of them salarymen and working class people, they were put in a very difficult position with the recession or economic downturn and all of a sudden most of them started to lose confidence in themselves” (Fukasaku). The character Shuya Nanahara is a young student whose mother abandons him and whose father commits suicide within the first five minutes of the film as he is unable to find work within the floundering economy. Shuya becomes disillusioned and loses all respect for authority in the wake of his father’s suicide and becomes one of the delinquents that the government of Japan is so frightened of. As Battle Royale centers on violence perpetrated by children, the characters act as different symbols for what Japanese society is afraid of. A child in the normal state acts as a symbol for the health and new beginnings of the state and its people. However, in Battle Royale the children are feared because of their lack of respect for authority, and the adult world would rather murder them off than have the possibility of an unruly generation devoid of any structure.

Interestingly, the murderous children that the adults are afraid of are virtually non existent. The majority of the Class B kills out of complete fear of being killed and several times express the desire to go home. Yet, there are exceptions. There is Kiriyama, the mute and frightening so-called transfer student, who ‘volunteered for the fun’ kills off quite a few of the younger characters in an overly aggressive and blood thirsty manner. However, he is the only child character that kills without reason. The only character that even comes close is Mitsuko who kills in the same aggressive manner but it comes from a place of survival and wanting to win the game. It also brought to light that the reason she enjoys killing her classmates is because she “just didn’t want to be a loser anymore.” Mitsuko, ignored by her peers as a loser in their school days, desperately wants to be a winner in a society that seemingly rewards success. If that means she must indiscriminately kill classmates who hated her anyway, so be it. At least she’ll be a winner somehow. There are several characters that are obviously pacifists and refuse to fight and instead kill themselves. The three main characters Shuya, Noriko, and Kawada do not want to kill; but they do what they must in order to survive.

The film continually points back to the State as the villain of Battle Royale. It is the State that leads the economy downhill that in turn leads to job loss, and it is the State that instills the culture of extreme pressure and bullying. Ultimately, without the villainous State there would be no such thing as Battle Royale in the first place. The Government’s solution for the dangerous youth turns out to be much worse than the problem. The game itself stands for the divisive nature of Japanese society itself. Just the idea that the Government would think of putting a group of children through a murderous rampage to solve the discipline problem, illustrates that the Government itself inflects more damage in the span of three days to children than youth delinquents ever could do to a society in a lifetime. The children, even the few predator types, are nothing in comparison to Japanese society that made them this way and continually fostering their cut-throat nature in the Battle Royale.

Battle Royale is a major allegory for life in Japanese society. As several characters put it: “Nobody’s going to rescue you, that’s just life”, and “There’s a way out of this game. Kill yourself. If you can’t do that, then don’t trust anyone, just run.” The film’s allegiance ultimately lies with the children who have been thrust in a blood thirsty rat race by a society that has forgotten them. As Shuya says, “My mom and dad ran off and died because they felt like. But I’ll keep fighting even if I don’t know how, until I become a real adult.” The children of the film have a power of the adults: their will to survive and continue on. In the end, Shuya and Noriko are the only two characters left standing, but the State has taken away any chance that they may ever have a normal life. They must continually run and fight for survival even though they have made it off of the Island. This proves that Battle Royale is not just a game; it’s the constructed social norm of Japan. As the film ends, Noriko and Shuya run and instruct the audience to do the same: “No matter how far run for all your worth. Run.”


Works Cited
Jennings, Byrant. Media effects advances in theory and research. New York: Routledge/Taylor and Francis, 2008.
Mes, Tom, and Jasper Sharp. "Kinji Fukasaku Interview." 04 Sept. 2001. 01 Apr. 2009.