All of real life is a stage
Published Feb. 15, 2008
I saw a play in a bar recently. It was a lesser-known Tennessee Williams’ play called “Confessional,” and it had only been produced about two times before. It tackled some dark existential stuff happening in a fictional bar called Monk’s. My friend acted in the production, and I was also writing a freelance piece on the acting company behind it. As I sat down in the dimly lit Eastside Tavern, whiskey on the rocks securely in hand, I suspected there wasn’t any better venue for this particular play.
As I watched the actors play out their characters’ drunken escapades, I sipped my drink and thought more about the nature of acting itself. I’ve been thinking about it more and more, partly because of the freelance article and partly because of election season. What interests me isn’t the particulars of theater. While I fully appreciate what goes into each character, acting techniques applied elsewhere intrigue me more.
It’s the art of acting that creates perception, character and drama in real life as much as anything happening on some stage. Actors know how to project what they want in a personality, and that goes a staggeringly long way toward achieving success in other senses. Personality is an act of will for some people. The best example that comes to mind offhand is Ronald Reagan’s folksy charm.
Not to sound sociopathic, but acting surrounds us every second. People play roles. What’s critical is how subtly conscious they are of the differences and how much intention builds behavior. As long as good intentions underscore these roles, I see no problems, since everyone does it quite naturally. You play the good kid when chatting with your parents on the phone. You try to drag out your best qualities at a job interview. With friends, nothing’s more natural than embracing your sense of humor and what you like for kicks, whether it be The Velvet Underground or a night at the piano bar.
People who’ve achieved fame and especially public success grow even more self-aware and conscious of all this. They have to in order to deal with all the attention. I’m a huge fan of Barack Obama, yet I know he’s always acting and projecting that powerful, inspiring persona. Mike Huckabee’s got the same charm with folks: that safe and funny front in which people respond. In the end, they’re performing, and it’s not necessarily any more false than you telling your mom about how much you studied this weekend. They’re just better at it, and it’s passé to think that’s not the case.
There’s a passage from a Philip Roth novel I read over break that sparked these thoughts. “I am theater and nothing more than theater,” Roth’s alter ego declares near the end of “The Counterlife.” He says he lacks any sort of self, employing instead “a variety of impersonations that I can do ... a troupe of players that I have internalized.” There’s more, and ideally I’d include the whole thing, but quoting novels to other people makes me feel gross. This was just too relevant.
There are also a million ways that actively focusing on this can go wrong, not to mention turn people into utter douche bags and creeps. I’ve been talking flash, but people want and need genuine compassion, reason and substance. You can exude all the Bill Clinton-esque charisma in the world, but if you don’t believe in evolution, you can leave. This is dime store psychology, but worth a thought or two.
