Actors often ask how they can get better at memorizing. The
short answer is, “Learn the right way to rehearse.” But, of course, there is a
longer answer:
Memory and
Association
Our brains are constantly creating understanding through
association. If someone tells you, “John fell off the wagon,” your brain is
able to create different meanings for that depending on whether you are at a
bar or at a playground. This habit of association is especially true with
memory. You can’t remember the hallway of
your elementary school without also remembering how you felt when walked those
halls as a kid.
So your approach to memorization should be about avoiding
destructive associations and building good ones.
The negative
associations:
Some actors can memorize by rote before beginning any
rehearsals. And if you are very good at this, it can work. But when you
memorize by looking at and then looking up from a piece of paper, you associate
reading a page with saying those lines. How many times have you seen an actor
go up on her lines and watched her eyes shift slightly down and to the left?
She’s looking at the page in her head. How many times have you not known your
line, but could say exactly where on the page you would find it? Rote
memorization creates the danger of you going back to the page when you forget a
line. And that is poison, because the page is not a part of the scene. Rote
memorization only works if you are so good at it that you can quickly break
those associations when rehearsals begin.
I prefer not to separate the memorization from the rest of
the preparations, but rather to integrate it into the work by making the right
associations:
1st
Association: Taking a risk, out loud.
The very first time
you read the lines, say them out loud. With your scene partner(s) if possible,
or at least with a friend or helpful spouse. But even if you are reading alone,
read out loud. As an actor, you will
never be asked to silently read the lines to yourself, so why create that
association? By reading out loud, you are building the right associations:
- You’re immediately looking at the scene not from the outside, but from the character’s perspective.
- You’re performing an action (talking out loud), not passively reading.
- You can feel the risk. You don’t know where the scene is going, and you are almost certain to make mistakes. Isn’t that great? You are at risk, and you know you can fail. All great actors are constantly finding ways of removing safety nets, so why miss this first opportunity? Read it out loud and see what the hell happens, and revel in the heady rush of brilliant discoveries and utter failures
.
Next assocaitions: Focusing
on the other and changing tactics.
The worry many actors have is that memorizing while
rehearsing will tend to lock in line readings and not leave them open to the
moment. And this is an absolutely legitimate concern; do not associate specific
interpretations with the memorization of the lines. If the scene takes an
unexpected turn, you will have to go back to your original interpretation before
being able to adjust. And you should never have to leave the scene, the moment.
But what I’ve advocated so far doesn’t lock in an interpretation.
Your first read out loud will be filled with unclear and misguided choices,
so your second reading will need to make adjustments. Your third, fourth, and
subsequent readings should be equally experimental.
And from the start, associate saying the lines with interaction with an “other.”
If you have a partner to work with, focus your energy on her or him. Reference
the page only to get the words into your head, then look in her eyes as you speak and listen as
she says her lines.
After you’ve read the scene a few times, put down the page
and give it a try. You may only get two lines in before you go off script, but
stay on task and finish the scene.
Make some decision about what the character is fighting for, and fight for it.
You will be improvising, but with the script in mind. And when you pick up the
pages again, you’ll be in the mode of fighting to get what you want. And that’s
a key association.
As you work, put down the pages every few reads and give it
another go. Each time you will have more of the script and less improvisation,
but it will be entering you head as a tool to get you what you want, not as an
obligation on a page that most be honored. Lines are tools for you to perform your driving action; puzzle them
out as such. If you always work with a sense of purpose, you won’t run the risk
of getting locked into a line reading.Try the lines while trying to accomplish
completely different objectives, ones that may not fit the scene at all. The
idea is not to associate the words with specific tactics, but to associate them
with the drive to get what you want.
Once you are mostly off book, you can run lines out loud,
totally away from the scene. Say them as you make some eggs or sort through
junk mail. Again, it’s about association, this time with the interaction with
an “other.” Saying the words while accomplishing a task that's separate from the scene will ensure that you haven't locked them into a specific interpretation.
Never say the lines
when you are not either a.) fighting for what you want or b.) interacting with
some other. If, in the course of the scene, your line escapes you, you won’t go
back to the page in your mind. You’ll stay in the moment of engagement and
struggle, and it will come back to you from there, without you ever needing to
leave the scene.
Interaction when
working alone
There are times when you can’t begin your work with a
partner. Your agent sent you the script and the audition is tomorrow. This is
very tough to do without building negative association, so you must be
disciplined.
Begin as you always should, reading out loud from the start
(even the goofy commercial scripts that are less than Shakespearian in writing
quality). As you re-read and begin to make choices, work with an other: anything
you can look out to get you gaze and energy outward and focused away from
yourself. In the absence of another human being, I’ve often borrowed my kids’
stuffed animals so I can at least make eye contact.
The key is to always imagine the rest of the scene fully and
not get pulled back to the page simply because it’s real and the rest is
imagined. I often use a voice recorder to playback the other lines, read flatly
with plenty of silence for me to say my lines. But this is only for timing, to
make sure I am taking the time to listen. I have to imagine the different ways
the other lines may come at me. Just as I don’t want to associate with a single
line reading for myself, I don’t want to associate with just one interpretation
that I’m responding to. Again, working alone is far less than ideal, and it
takes your disciplined use of your imagination to be sure you’re associating
interaction with an other.
What if I’m told to
improvise?
In the film world, there will be plenty of auditions where
you need to be able to play around and go off the script. But memorizing the
lines in the way I’ve described above doesn’t preclude your ability to improv;
it improves it. Whether saying the prescribed words or not, you are engaging
the other while fighting for what you want. If you’ve worked on the myriad ways
that you can do that, the lines are not a crutch that you are leaning on, but
one of many tools you have at the ready to accomplish your goal. Using to words
of the writer will offer important clues to what you want and how you work to
get it, as well as the overall style of the piece. You can and should practice
improvising the scene, just don’t do it in lieu of knowing the words as
written. Either way, the moment is the same: you fight for what you want with
the tools available.
What was the short answer again?
From the moment you pick up the script, make the right associations, and you will hardly notice that you are memorizing.
Don’t know your lines. Know your purpose, and know well the
tools you have to achieve that purpose. Then take risks and fight.
Stay honest, stay on task, and keep acting.
