Martin Ruben
An Actor’s Perspective
My brother, an avid theatergoer, one-time actor and a man of
letters, was telling me about a production of Richard III with Kevin Spacey, where the actor shouted his way
through the entire production. He then went on to say that the rest of the cast
followed suit, and that eventually the bombast was overwhelming. There is no
doubt as to Spacey’s ability as an actor, so it struck me as odd that such a
choice was made and allowed to progress. One wonders if the scope of Spacey’s
celebrity made anything the director might have to say moot, or if, in the
recesses of the actor’s mind, the hunchback, for whatever reason, would
substitute volume for passion. It reminded me of a production many years ago at
the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis, where Byron Jennings portrayed the same
role, but with a very different approach. His Richard was well tempered, with
great cunning, complexity, and a volume that allowed for subtlety and depth.
The VERY LOUD Kevin Spacey as Richard III
There are those critics who might argue that royalty must
make its presence known. Certainly, if one shouts, one’s presence will be
known, but will it be heard? A king need not shout to let his subjects know he
is the king. He is the king, period. What might cause the rise in volume is
when the king, or prince, or anyone in a position of power, is threatened. To
overuse a declamatory style is to minimize the effect of the language, putting
it on an even plane. During the rehearsal process, we often hear the notion of
needing somewhere to go, to bring a speech to a conclusion and, if so required,
to let the passion of the argument manifest physically, vocally, or both. But
if one starts at such a fever pitch, where does the actor go?
Actors shout Shakespeare because it feels good, in a
peculiar way. By raising one’s voice, it is thought, one raises the elegance
and passion of the language, particularly in an emotion-laden scene. Not so, at
least not in every context. If anything, it tends to obfuscate the inherent
romance of the language. Of course there are numerous situations when things
attain a fevered pitch, but it is necessary that the audience be taken there,
and not slammed against a wall of sound. Unfortunately, we live in an age now
where our senses are constantly being bombarded and assaulted. Asking an
audience to pay attention is asking them to trust you, and that trust must be
handled respectfully, and not shouted out like a military DI.
It really comes down to one thing and one thing only: tell
the story. This one thing, however, contains many, many facets that must be
attended to, like so many lords and ladies of the court. Each character has
his/her own demands, his/her own ego, and his/her own argument. It becomes the
actor’s task to discern between all these demands, the requirements of his own
character, and a full understanding of the relationships between the characters.
When we shout, unless this shouting is borne out of the sequence of events, we
may get someone’s attention. If that is all we do, particularly with the
complexities one finds in Shakespeare, we lose the audience immediately. It is
essential to remember that within the context of the play, regardless of the
possible historical references, Shakespeare has given us real people, many of
whom happen to be royalty, but real nonetheless. If we compare ourselves to
these characters, we will find many similarities, although we can hope that our
actions will not get us beheaded. But we go through the same processes, the
same sturm und drang, the same decision
making processes. If, as actors, we examine our daily lives, how often do we
find that shouting is an effective tool? Rarely, especially where children are
involved. So as we continue to examine how to “speak the speech,” it becomes
necessary to examine the self and ask: WWWD? What would we do?
So, do over-articulating, over-thinking, and excessive
volume work in Shakespeare? No, because it doesn’t work in real life, and for
the duration of the play, it is, in its own way, real life. Never is the notion
of holding a mirror up to nature more necessary than in the telling of a great
tale. If we believe it, the audience believes it, as long as they are not bullied
and bludgeoned into believing it.
Bad Shakespeare gives the use of volume over nuance in performance 2/10 laurels.
Bad Shakespeare gives the use of volume over nuance in performance 2/10 laurels.
