While
observing Forrest Whitaker and Oprah Winfrey in the film, Lee Daniels’ The Butler, it occurred to me that each performance
offers the audiobook narrator lessons that are applicable to storytelling. One
performance is indicative of what works,
the other a work in progress.
It is
fair to argue that for as many people as have viewed this film there may be as
many valid opinions about the quality of its co-stars’ performances. In
proffering my clearly opinionated notions about these performances, my larger hope
is that audiobook narrators will regard the notions (as opposed to my opinions)
as viable lessons that can assist them in their effort to become more
compelling storytellers.
For
me, Forrest Whitaker’s performance worked; Oprah Winfrey’s worked sometimes,
and sometimes it didn’t.
Actors
and their show biz brethren are particularly prone to critique performance on the
basis of what worked or didn’t, especially while conversing with their peers,
as if only creative types really get what worked
means. How do I define worked? My baseline
definition—one that applies to audiobook narrators as well as all performers,
whether its film, theatre, TV, dance, music, etc.—is: organically connected emotion. I’m certain this definition is no
surprise to anyone who’s read this blog. Simply stated, when the actor (or
storyteller) organically connects the subtext’s emotionality to the viewer or
listener, the performance works. Conversely, when the actor fails to
organically connect the subtext’s emotionality, the performance doesn’t work.
In Lee Daniels’ The Butler, Forrest
Whitaker organically connected the subtext to the viewer and Oprah Winfrey was
far more challenged, and ultimately, not consistently successful in her effort.
In focusing on why this was so, I again want to insist that whether one
specifically agrees or disagrees with this assessment of performance, the
larger lessons remain important for any narrator who regards him or herself as
an actor and storyteller.
The three
performance issues I’ll interrogate are: the stakes; less-less-less;
indicating. Appreciating their impact on performance is central to appreciating
why one of the film’s stars connected and the other misfired. Additionally, I’m
hoping that as narrators consider these issues, they’ll appreciate why one
audiobook performance is compelling and another is uninspired, boring.
I was
engaged by (connected to) Forest Whitaker’s performance throughout the film. In
terms of the three issues I’m raising, that’s because: his emotional response was
always commensurate with the stakes; he vocally and physically matched the subtext’s
demand (he never helped or pushed the words; never inappropriately physicalized a feeling); his response to the
script’s words and the other characters appeared reflexive, suggesting that it emerged
from his visceral connection to the subtext and therefore was organic, and
real. He was, so to speak, plugged in.
Ms.
Winfrey’s response to the stakes didn’t always satisfy their intensity; she
seemed not quite as mad, not quite as sad, not quite as happy, not quite as
frustrated: as if the stakes weren’t quite as high as I imagined the subtext
was telling her they were. At times she seemed to vocally and physically overwhelm
the words, as if we (the audience) might not get what she was feeling so she
had to vocally jump-start or kick the words. And she had to over physicalize
the feelings the language suggested as well. Finally, she sometimes appeared
emotionally uncoupled from the words’ feelings (albeit impossible to know for
sure) and that left her no choice but to, in effect, imitate or indicate an
emotion because she simply wasn’t grasping it.
I am
hesitant to offer too many examples of instances where what’s mentioned above
occurred because that’s liable to create an argument that, in turn, forces the
conversation towards who is right and who is wrong. How can Paul say this? He
doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Or, I agree with Paul. He’s absolutely
right. That said, it seems disingenuous to offer no examples, so here’s a
couple:
Towards
the end of the film, Cecil (Forest Whitaker) confronts his estranged son at an
outdoor protest. It is, arguably, one of the most powerful, emotionally
consequential scenes in the film. Having banished his son from his life, Cecil
realizes he’s made a catastrophic error, and comes to make amends, to apologize,
to re-connect to him. The stakes are through the roof! In that heightened
moment when the two meet, the son asks, what are you doing here? Cecil speaks
not much above a flat whisper; he is more subdued than overtly charged; his
body and physical persona quiet, oddly weak. In this still moment, Mr. Whitaker
had pulled me inside him (or perhaps the other way around) and it was as if I
was that father, paralyzed by grief, yearning to be forgiven by my son. I was
connected. The performance worked.
The
scene between Howard (Terence Howard) and Gloria (Oprah Winfrey) in which she
wards off her neighbor’s provocative sexual advances found Ms. Winfrey somewhat
uncomfortable and unfocused, as if she was aware of herself trying to find the
proper reaction to Mr. Howard, who, by the way, appeared laser-focused and
confident. Specifically, when Howard physicalized his advances and made plain
with his language that he wasn’t surrendering his sexual pursuit of Gloria, I
asked myself while watching, what are the stakes on a scale of 1 – 10? While
Mr. Howard pursued at a ten, Ms. Winfrey—whatever she may have been
feeling—seemed to be waffling, unable to committedly attach herself to that
feeling. And what exactly was that feeling? Was she insulted, aghast, tempted,
angry, seduced, all or none of these? It just wasn’t clear moment to moment, at
least to me. But what did emerge was a less than one hundred per cent, focused
grasp of whatever state she was trying to evince. Ms. Winfrey seemed to be
flailing about a bit, like an overwrought puppy digging for a bone, trying to
unearth the subtext oscillating beneath the words, but just not discovering it.
Unable to organically connect, she was left no choice but to manufacture the
feelings, vocally and visually.
As I
viewed this high stakes scene between Howard and Gloria, what appeared to be
working fully for Mr. Howard wasn’t working for Ms. Winfrey.
It’s
important to reiterate that my interpretation of these performances—informed or
uninformed—is subjective and based on my perceptions, not immutable fact. But I
hope that the larger performance issues that have been raised—the stakes,
less-less-less, indicating—are not only applicable to audiobook narrators, but can
act as takeaways the narrator can consider when thinking about what constitutes
compelling storytelling.
--
Looking
forward to recording tomorrow with Nicola Barber, whose performances work!
Nice, Paul. As a performer, matching the emotional response to the stakes is critical. Or, as actor Lisa Renee Pitts says, "The "ouch" must match the "pinch." Acting is simple and unfolds as complex. But then again, so is brushing one's teeth.
ReplyDeleteJust tweeted your post. Applicable to ALL voiceover work in my opinion. And I'm still learning how to make it work. Thanks as always,
ReplyDeletePerry