Filmcraft: ACTING LESSON WITH NICOLE KIDMAN

As a director it is my responsibility to give my actors the best tools and information I can for them to make informed choices about their characters. There are several components to this- back story, spine, allegory, and relativity among others. A skilled actor has the intellectual and observational capacity to draw on their life experiences or the experiences of others to extract the truth of the moment from said information. It is a skill that requires courage and panache- the actor is baring her emotions and inner demons to the public, which is terrifying, and she must also deliver the truth in a way that is compelling. It's too easy to act through histrionics and hand gesticulation- the best actors make choices that are subtle, choices that don't involve dialogue, screaming or tears. They use the only instrument they have- their bodies- and they use it masterfully.

Now I've seen many great performances by many great actors who employ this art, but over and over again I return to this particular performance by Nicole Kidman in the film BIRTH as the paramount example of the actor's craft.

BIRTH, directed by Jonathan Glazer, was an uneven film and based on a wobbly script, but it is worth a watch for Kidman's performance. Hers is an exercise in subtlety, of demonstrating the small physical choices that an actor must make to tell a story in the most compelling and affecting way possible. It is an amazing performance, and worthy of our time and study.

Before you view this clip of the film, here's a little back story. Kidman plays Anna, a New York socialite who has been struck with a tremendous tragedy- her young husband, Sean, has died. Time passes, and Anna attempts to move on in a new life and love, when suddenly a mysterious young boy shows up and wishes to speak to Anna. He tells her that he is Sean. Naturally, Anna dismisses the boy, but the boy begins to reveal truths of her relationship with Sean that only she and her deceased husband would know. She still refuses to believe the boy, as she cannot accept whatever supernatural logic that may be at play.

In this scene Anna goes to the opera with her lover. She is still contemplating the boy, as to whether or not he is really her dead husband. Watch:



Quite an unusual shot, no?

If you have come this far, try watching the clip again, this time placing yourself within the mindset of the character. Look at the small, subtle choices that Kidman makes, and be aware that we are privy to the transition of her thoughts.

We begin with Anna's complete distraught and disbelief that her husband may very well be alive in the body of a child. She is confused, maligned, torn between reality and possibility.

We then see her move to reasoning, forcing logic to conform to what she wants most- for her beloved husband to be alive again. She is in the process of convincing herself, of rewriting science and philosophy.

Finally, we see acceptance- she is willing to believe her new logic. There is relief and anticipation- she wants to see Sean again. She looks off to the side, no longer interested in the opera or the company of her lover. She has found love again, and she wants to be there.

Imagine the complexity of piecing this performance together, of what Kidman had to draw upon to expose herself to such raw emotion with a camera right in her face, recording every tic and gesture. If you don't think this is difficult, stand in front of a mirror and try acting out the progression I've just described, without saying a word. It's frustrating as hell to pull it off successfully.

Kidman puts equity in small nuances because she understands the format. She is in extreme close-up with a wide lens, so she knows that even the smallest movement will translate huge on the screen. She shows remarkable restraint, limiting her movement to her mouth and eyes, conveying confusion and discovery with instinctual reactions.

And that's the key word here- reaction. Kidman is not acting out the process of information, she's reacting to it, just as you or I would were we to be in such a predicament in real life. She allows herself to be emotionally available to the information presented to her by the director and the script- she's not judging the information, rather she's allowing it to attack her. This requires tremendous vulnerability and trust, and is indicative of the bond between actor and director, and the actor and the material.

The lesson imparted here for both actors and directors is the faith in instincts, or the ability to react to information truthfully and honestly. One cannot argue with the truth, and when it is parlayed so convincingly and so naked, it speaks to all of us in a universal fashion. We cannot help but be moved by it. Once mastered and understood, it is an art whose power is rivaled by few.

Nicole Kidman won Oscar praise for her myriad other performances, but it is this performance that shows her skill. As a director I am humbled to see acting like this, and it gives me something to strive for. To me, there is no greater joy than seeing actors execute at the height of their powers. It is a rush unlike any other, both for the performer and we the audience. We need more of it.

LOST BUILDINGS

LOST BUILDINGS
Written by Ira Glass and animated by Chris Ware

I'm going to say something that will make me sound like a hipster even though I'm about as far away from even being associated with the term "hip." I love NPR's THIS AMERICAN LIFE, and I've loved it since it ever came on the air here in Chicago. Nyah. Tblpptpt. Hipsters who revel in its quirky stories will claim the same, that they knew about it before anyone else, but dammit I was there a long time ago. My claim is for real- I've been an avid NPR listener since freshman year of high school (I'm 31- you do the math). Just had to get that off my chest.

Every year I call in and pledge support for my public radio and television stations, and every year they send me some cool little gift in return. Last year I got a set of tumblers, and this year I was supposed to get tickets to the Ravinia festival. Unfortunately they had run out of tickets, so they sent me a book instead. Good things happen for a reason, and what I received was one of the most startling and beautiful books / films I'd ever seen.

It was a lovely little book called LOST BUILDINGS, and it was accompanied with a DVD that featured a 22-minute story written by Ira Glass, writer and host of THIS AMERICAN LIFE, and features animation by Chicago's resident reluctant genius Chris Ware, he of JIMMY CORRIGAN fame. The story was of the real-life exploits of Tim Samuelson, who as a young boy became obsessed with the buildings of Louis Sullivan, one of Chicago's premiere architects and creator of some of the most stunning structures the world had ever seen. As Tim grows up he becomes exposed to the realities of urban development, and spirals into horror and despair as he sees developers tear down Sullivan buildings and replace them with behemoth steel skyscrapers. Tim joins an impassioned group of people who dedicate their lives to saving Chicago's buildings, and finds camaraderie with one gentleman in particular. Their enthusiasm and shared joy of Sullivan buildings comes literally crashing down on them, and the story is punctuated with a tragic sense of what we hold dear as a society, and our ideological divide in our valuation of art.

Ira Glass' intelligent writing and narration brings an immediacy and humanity to the subject, deferring to Samuelson in the correct balance between interview and story. The audio is accentuated by the soundtrack, featuring a guitar rendition of Philip Glass' amazing masterpiece 'Mishima.'

But the real star here is Ware's artwork. Every frame of the 300 illustrations on this DVD are meticulously drawn, and the architecture of Louis Sullivan is lovingly reproduced through the eyes of Samuelson, as both a boy and adult. Ware has given mythic significance to these buildings, while also providing a human context to the brick, mortar, plaster and steel. The intimacy, elaborate framing, and pacing of the three elements- narration, music, and image- is simply immaculate. This is hands down one of the best and most unusual documentaries you're likely to ever see.

The book that accompanies the DVD is an achingly sad document of the fate of the Sullivan buildings in Chicago. If it weren't for the insightful text, we would think we were looking at photos of Armageddon, of the barren landscapes of World War II. And the results are equally tragic. It may seem ridiculous to place so much emotional equity within a building, but I felt I understood why Samuelson was so fervent about the preservation of Chicago's old, historic buildings.

See, I live within my home, and almost all of my daily functions happen here. My memories are encased and formed here. My home enables me to do this within comfort, within a safe place. My view of my home is shared in my view of the Earth- as a living thing, a complex network of systems designed to sustain life, to inspire, to nurture. The building I live in was built in 1901, and it is as solid today as when it was built. Old buildings were built with humanity in mind, with the concept of sustaining generations, of providing shelter and inspiration for centuries. Today's new construction is built with a different agenda- profit. Poor construction, sub par prefabricated materials, and putting just enough effort to pass a legal standard of living space is the hallmark of today's buildings. They are built to fall apart in ten years, in order to spur the population to either keep reinvesting in their homes, or to pick up and move to an entirely new building. These cookie-cutter buildings show little in terms of design- they invoke zero creativity, no human spirit, no warmth or desire to be different.

I happen live down the street from one of the few remaining Sullivan buildings in Chicago. Located in Lincoln Square, the building is a small wonder of art- no detail was spared, no aesthetic denied. It is a revelation to look at, to run one's hands over its solid facade and explore the intricate designs. They don't build dwellings like this anymore. It's a dying art, sacrificed at the altars of profitability and greed. The artisans who specialize in this kind of masonry are a dying species, and are deemed far too expensive to be practical. To build a Sullivan building today requires time, patience, and funds, of which today's society has plenty of, but is unwilling to yield.

We must preserve the architecture of the past, because unlike today, it was made with people in mind. I see the expansive suburbs of Chicago and see uniformity, lack of individuality, and an uninspired submission to be mediocre. Apparently we are ok being just another number. We sell our souls for temporary comfort, and in turn destroy the foundations of our inspiration and life.

I think I can say that for things even beyond architecture. Sad.


LOST BUILDINGS can be purchased at the NPR shop at NPR.org, or at the THIS AMERICAN LIFE website. It's a bit on the pricey side, but consider it your donation to good television and radio.

Below is not a trailer for LOST BUILDINGS, but another wonderful collaboration between Ira Glass and Chris Ware. Enjoy!