Fidgeting. Knuckle-cracking. Hair-twisting. Tooth-sucking. Finger-drumming. That stuff drives me crazy. I’m naturally still. Perhaps too still… I have had people check me for a pulse on occasion, so I am not in need of teacher Doug Hutchison’s class, but — as an entertainment reporter who is very interested in the craft of acting from an academic standpoint — it was my pleasure and privilege to audit Hutchison’s introduction to The Art of Stillness.
The veteran actor, whose work has been enjoyed onstage (Equus), film (The Green Mile), and television (Lost), began the introduction to his omnivorous method at The Annex Underground Theater in Hollywood, CA. Textured notes of meditative music and the scent of soothing incense filled the air as potential students filled the bleachers.
True to his implied promise, Hutchison sat still before the roomful, paging serenely through his leather-bound book of notes until the last person filed in and took his seat.To begin, Hutchison introduced himself briefly, and modestly outlined his credits, then began to weave a compelling outline of his philosophy on Stillness.
He talked about the twinkling, gentle stars we see every night, never really cognizant of the chaos that created them. He spoke of the relaxing lap of the ocean’s waves and their unseen, dangerous undertow currents. He talked about the cricket’s sweet song, which is produced only by the furious rubbing together of the insect’s legs. And so on — in Still acting, one is far from passive. In fact, it’s the most subtle yet strong way in which to command a scene.
To illustrate his points, Hutchison showed select film scenes of “masters of stillness,” including Sir Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs, Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler, and Patricia Clarkson in The Green Mile.
He talked about using one’s eyes to convey extreme emotion while the body remains still. “The eyes are the window to the soul,” he said, demonstrating that the cliché is rooted in truth.
This made me think of actor Gary Oldman in Bram Stoker’s Dracula, when the vampire was seducing Mina in the flicker theater — remember, he was wearing mirrored sunglasses…but he let them dip, for just a moment, showing his fevered gaze. That clip wasn’t shown, but in watching Patricia Clarkson’s with new eyes as explained by Hutchison — it’s the moment in which Melinda Moores bestows a religious medallion upon John Coffey — it was interesting to think how too much movement would have altered the performance. In the cut, Clarkson is persistent but calm as she holds the necklace out. But what if she’d been twisting the chain as she spoke? What if she’d chosen to thrust the gift upon Coffey? Even for non-actors, Hutchison’s presentation is quite revelatory.
As he spoke about his own experience with Stillness and how it relates to all of us, it made me think of another form of entertainer: the street performer. Ever notice how much more awe the “human statue” commands from the gathered observers than the dancers and the acrobats do? That is because movement is not yet happening — there is the expectation of waiting for something to happen, and that’s much more powerful. I’m convinced that, as classes continue, Hutchison’s observations, experience and wisdom will teach actors how to change affected to affecting. How to transform active to proactive, and how to go from stilted to Still.
As the course continues, Hutchison said, he will exemplify Stillness with suggestion, Stillness with a photograph, Stillness with song, and more. For the introductory night, he gave us several examples of Stillness with suggestion.
In this exercise, volunteers were made to sit in front of the audience in a simple standalone chair. The student was asked to sit as still as possible for a moment, await a whisper from Hutchison, then put that secret suggestion to thought and (in)action without ever leaving the chair. Afterward, the group was encouraged to talk about the transformations witnessed and what they might mean. One volunteer laughed, another cried tears and sobbed, yet another merely smirked, and the last stared back into the audience (or perhaps the abyss?) with unsettling intensity. We never were told what Hutchison’s suggestions to the students were, but the change in their demeanor was quite apparent in every case.
In closing, Hutchison explained that his weekly class creates a safe haven. There is no judgment. No harsh criticisms. No sarcasm. It’s like an ensemble cast but also a family wherein members can learn and grow and prepare for the harsher outside world of the business of acting. In the weeks to come, there will be scene work, monologues, mock auditions, career strategies and much more. For the last half hour or so, Hutchison took questions and shared his often hilariously funny — yet always significant — stories of the 23-year journey of his immersive life as an actor, writer, and producer.
Scheduling is still fluid as of now (Hutchison is a working actor, after all), so some classes may be programmed, but for now he is planning on conducting a Stillness Intensive/Workshop Weekend August 2010.
For more information on Hutchison and The Art of Stillness: www.darkwaterinc.com and www.doughutchison.com