Acting Class, Part 2. The Drama.

The second day I arrived without tears, and class was a lot less stressful too. We were assigned audition scenes and a partner and we had ten minutes to prepare. They were nice to me...my scene was short and I only had a few lines...

So one by one, we stood in front of the camera and spoke to our partner who was off-screen. I felt nothing special about my scene but I was just happy to have pronounced everything correctly!! However, it just so happened that another girl had the same scene as I did. She was one of the last to go. Erica. I guess she was one of the tech people, but you would've never known because she KILLED the audition. Like real tears, perfectly delivered---she even got applause when she was finished. I felt humiliated, but I told myself I was allowed to be worse because it was my first scene in French...and I was here to learn...

At least that's what I wrestled with in my head for the rest of the morning. And again the rest of the afternoon when we watched all the auditions on the screen and everyone cheered for Erica again.

That evening I was lost in St. Denis, looking for the apartment of a girl I had just met a week earlier...a college student who dreams of going to the US and loves speaking English. After our lunch together she invited me to stay with her during the class so I wouldn't have to drive and she could speak some English. When I finally got there, I told her I reaalllyyy needed a beer (or two) so we set off to the nearest pizza place for dinner. Three beers later, she was helping me memorize my lines and we were laughing our asses off about absolutely nothing. That's when the selfies started.

I showed up the next day with my lines perfectly memorized and in high spirits. I volunteered to read the off-screen part for the male actors studying the scene, instead of letting myself feel inadequate and giving the job to Erica every time. I was doing great, opening up, even crying on cue...my time in front of the camera was a little stiff but I knew I'd get used to it. I knew I was progressing and growing and I felt great.

By Saturday we had our official partners and had spent some improv time together to develop the relationship between us. I gave my best performance that day---real tears, natural actions...I was high on life; back to how I used to feel as a kid on stage.

Sunday was to be the first day off, and then we'd start filming the scenes for real the entire next week. I was scheduled to go on Monday afternoon and I showed up eager to learn about filming. It turns out it's pretty complicated...

It's kind of a delicate thing. You spend a loooot of time setting the scene up--the lighting, the camera angles, the props...and then you run through it a few times to get the details right; where someone stands, should the windows in the car be up or down, should the beer be dropped at this word or that one...I was mostly trying to get out of the way of all the intelligent, skilled tech people, but I was also trying to slither between and learn a job or two---the clapper, the light covers, the bloody make-up...

Around noon my partner texted to say he couldn't make it in today, so I was stress-free for the rest of the afternoon. Then the rain started, which worried me because I had to drive back to St. Gilles...I told everyone I was going to leave early when someone mentioned the directors wanted to shoot my scene with a new partner next if there was enough time...

David confirmed that I would be shooting in 20 minutes, so I sped changed my clothes, make up, and went to find that place in my head that makes me cry. I found it...but I could only touch it lightly. I felt it going away. We would be filming outside and the wind from the rain was cold. My partner was different, we had barely talked before. The setting was wet with rain and we stood there for about 15 minutes while they angled three blinking cameras at us. My tears were coming and going. I went from feeling to going completely numb. And when Gael shouted "Action!" It was the numbness that stayed.

We did the first take. They were happy, hopeful. "That was a great first take...but we're just warming up!" I knew then that I had lost something and that it wasn't going to come back.

Take 2. I looked at David helplessly, desperately pleading for him to do something. To give me some magical words that would help. He didn't notice, because lately I've been good to go on one take. His only note to me was: "you know what you did."

Take 3. He notices. He asks me what's up. I tell him I'm disconnected. He asks me how that makes me feel. I shrug because honestly it makes me feel nothing. I feel nothing. I want to feel something, I want to feel angry or sad but instead I just feel nothing.

Take 4. He's getting pissed. He yells, "ok guys we have ten minutes for you to get involved in your scene...we're all waiting on you..." He stands in front of me and I look in his eyes. I know what he's going to do and I am half waiting, half closed-off. "How does it make you feel that you can't connect to your scene?" He asks again. I look around at my classmates, all staring at me. The cameras are blinking. "Well now it's starting to embarrass me." I say. "Why?" "Because I know everyone is waiting for me..." "And how does it make you feel to know everyone is waiting on you?" Then the real tears start to form but my default cry-deflector kicks in; I laugh. "You think it's funny?!" David yells. "No..." I smile again in order to avoid crying. I don't know why I do this. "Yet you're still laughing!" He's getting pissed. "No I'm laughing because I want to cry..." "Stop the laughing and tell me why you want to cry." I am really embarrassed. I shut down. I can't speak. It's this weird thing I learned from an old relationship that had a lot of fighting. I just completely shut down. I feel numb, I can't speak even if I want to. I am completely paralyzed. I stare at the ground and I feel his gaze burning through me but I can't look up. I wish I would've looked up. I wish I would've opened up, and spoke in English, MY language, where the words can touch my heart. I wish I would've told him that I was scared that I can't do this, that I don't deserve to be here, that I've been fighting with myself this whole week to try, to be brave, to go for what I've always wanted, that I've been intimidated and afraid and that I've lost all of my self-confidence...I wish I would've said everything on my mind in that moment, because that would have worked and that's what he wanted. "Speak!" He demanded.  But instead, I stood there, frozen, looking at the ground until finally, after a long time, he muttered, "ok let's do it one more time."

I don't remember how that last take went, but as soon as we were finished I ran as fast as I could to my car, feeling utterly heartbroken. Yet still...I couldn't shed one tear.

I came home in defeat and told Richard what had happened. We drank a lot of wine and I went to sleep still in costume. I woke up and I didn't go back to class. People were in and out depending on their film schedule so I figured they wouldn't even notice I was gone. For them it's just another day at work, and what happened yesterday was a silly game, already forgotten.

After lunch, I got a call from David. He said the scene was fine...great...but they wanted to try to squeeze me in for a re-shoot---something totally abnormal. He sounded slightly annoyed that I wasn't there today and asked if I was coming back for the last two days of the class. My heart was thumping in my throat but I promised that I would be there.

I have no idea if I'll ever be capable to do what is needed of me in this scene. I'm terrified to go back. But if I'm ever going to learn how to re-open that part of me that's been closed for so long...I'm going to have to try again. Maybe that's what this whole thing is really about, anyway. I've learned to block my emotions because being emotional is embarrassing in real life. Maybe it's time to tear the walls back down.

Acting Class. Part 1

It's been months and months of the same thing. Wake up, take the dog for a walk. Clean the house. Prepare some English classes. Make lunch. Eat. Give a couple lessons. Take the dog for a walk. Spend too much time talking to people on facebook chat. Richard gets home. We eat dinner. Take showers. Bed.

In the background, acting class was looming. I signed up for it a long time ago, not really expecting to go. It was so far away---in the mountains of St. Denis---about 1.5 hours by car---and it was too scary. Acting class is always scary because you're putting yourself out there, you're taking risks in front of a group of people. But then you add the foreign language factor, and the fact that everyone else already knows each other...and it means I get to be the weird foreign new girl. Let me tell you, it's a fun role to play.

I thought of a zillion reasons why I shouldn't go to acting class. It's too far. I'll get lost. I don't know anyone. What about the dog? And what about my English clients? What if I don't understand anything?But somehow, the path seemed to clear. Everyone was starting school that week so my clients had dwindled down to about 2. A friend randomly offered to babysit the dog. And others invited me to stay with them in St. Denis so I wouldn't have to do a 3 hour commute everyday.

Fine everyone, I'll go to acting class, jeez!
If nothing else, I wanted to just stop doing the same thing every day...

So. Day 1. I packed up my little car with a sack of luggage, enough hard-boiled eggs and vegetables in a cooler to eat for 4 days, and fired up the GPS. And I drove. I drove, and drove and drove, dodging giant trucks that take up both lanes, falling rocks that were disturbed by yesterday's rain, closed roads, hidden traffic lights, and pretty much any other ridiculous obstacle you can possibly think of. I was drenched in sweat, gripping the wheel so hard my fingers were throbbing, stressed to the point of shaking...but I was so close--almost there! I'd be exactly on time.

I had been going up the mountain of St. Denis for about 30 minutes when I realized...I went up the wrong side of the mountain. I was off by ONE STREET. And there was nothing to do about it except go down and start over. That's when I lost it. I pulled over to the closest driveway and completely lost it. Like the ugliest, most hysterical crying I've ever done in my life. I. Could. Not. Go. On. I was just going to stay here in this driveway until I die, or until the people that live here call the cops and take me back down the mountain in handcuffs because I was DONE.

After about ten minutes, I realized I didn't want to go to jail, maybe instead I'd just go down the mountain, hop over to the airport, and get on the next plane back to the US where acting classes are in English and you don't have to drive through YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE to get to them. So I rode the car back down the mountain, still in hysterical water-works mode, (probably scaring the passing cars on the way up) and then, suddenly, a wave of calm came over me and somehow I glided up the other side of the mountain and ended up in the parking lot of my acting class. I was 15 minutes late, and true to French tradition, so were they. Everyone was waiting outside while the directors were setting up.

The class was being taught by some Parisians, David Atrakchi and Gael Cabouat. I'm glad I didn't google them until much later because it turns out they are kind of a big deal and that would've just added a lot more intimidation for the first day, which is something I definitely didn't need because it turned out that EVERY PERSON in that class was a freaking theatrical genius!!! Like how is it possible that this tiny island with an almost non-existent acting program has such a myriad of incredibly talented people that should all be seriously famous?!? How?!?! Even the tech crew people who were there just to observe ended up joining in and blowing me away.

David

Gael

So for the first day, we chose a emotional situation out of a hat and then had to improv with a partner. Neither of us knew the emotional state of the other person, we just had to enter the room and then go for it. After a few of the tech guys asked if they could do their scene in Creole, I thought what the heck and asked if there was anyone who wanted to do mine with me in English. Luckily, a girl volunteered and off we went...

My emotional state was "disgusted with self". Given that I was still quite fragile from the commute this morning, I used the opportunity to burst into tears in my scene...which threw my partner for a loop because her emotional state was "seductive." It all made for a dramatically awkward scene and at the end, I felt much better.

It was a small victory, however, on a day that just plain sucked. I got lost again driving to my French family's house in St. Denis (on the other OTHER side of the same mountain) my phone was almost dead, and Richard was stuck in a HUGE traffic jam and couldn't rescue me. I arrived at their house in time for some incredibly painful cramps and when they greeted me at the door, I was holding back tears again. Thankfully they are my beloved French family and they nursed me back to health with medicine, strong rum, and the most delicious (and stinky!) cheese tarts. I fell asleep vowing that I would not be going back to acting class...it was too difficult and I had given it my best try.

But the next morning, they were already gone and it was just me and Buddha in the backyard. It would be so easy to just not go back---they probably wouldn't even notice I was gone--I could go back home to my comfortable and familiar routine and in a week I could laugh about that time I tried acting school in Reunion.

Then in perfect timing, both Marianne and Grecia (back in Texas) sent me messages about trying just one more day. If it was still really so bad...Then I could quit. But just one more day...

I was already in St. Denis...just one more day?...Ok, I guess I could do that...