Line learning and character construction

Line learning is a drag, one of those things that you’ll do anything to put off. You’ll clear up, you’ll wash up and you’ll make deals with yourself to find time for it tomorrow. The irony is once you sit down and start the process, crowbar-ing all those words into your head actually brings the play to life. More to the point, it being the self-centred, egocentric, world of acting, it brings your character to life.
Today has been productive; I’ve learnt about fourteen pages of script and in the process my director’s notes are beginning to make sense. The last rehearsal was a bit of an ego-boost although I was receiving criticism at the time. I wasn’t getting the character because I wasn’t overcoming my innate Alpha male-ness; this was exacerbated by my naturally seductive voice. I’ve never felt so flattered while being told I was shit.
My status as an Alpha was mentioned during the last production; if I’m not careful I’m going to start believing it. All ego-massaging aside this is a personality trait I’m going to have to overcome and suppress in playing Stuart. Stuart is the antithesis of Alpha-ness.
The boy is a moron, a word that has faded from everyday use but in its literal meaning describes many people eloquently. It’s simply the Greek word mo-ron (accent on the ‘ron’), it means child and Stuart is most definitely a child.
He is a stock comedy character, the idiot whose workings are played out on his face. He’s immediate and in the moment; he does think but only after the words have left his mouth and he’s forced to back peddle his way out of trouble. He’s comic, and my task as an actor is to capture his endearing innocence than some how steer it through the darkness of Act Two.
It’s possible to play him for laughs all the way through but I’m starting to grasp one of the themes of the play; he’s a likeable character, a clown and my job is to get the audience onside in Act One before he starts to do highly questionable things in Act Two. You have to like him at the beginning because as the play progresses you are asked to take sides and question your allegiances. Is it possible for nice people to do bad things and even if those things are bad do they deserve their fate? Who is innocent and who is guilty and who is just plain fucked up?
I think I’m bringing down his status quite well now. I need to formulate some physical characteristics, I feel he’s a mover, a twitcher and like I said before his subtext is there for everyone to see; like in all good comedy characters. So slowly, slowly I’m going to try and get all of Act One down by Monday night. I won’t be word perfect but I’ll have the freedom to explore the physicality and look my fellow actors in the eyes.
No play starts to work before you can do this. It might sound ok but it certainly doesn’t ‘live’. And you aren’t likely to discover anything new in the text while reading it out-loud no matter how counterintuitive that statement sounds.