Rule #1 of dramatic literature is that nothing on the stage is worth watching if it is not driven by conflict. Although conflict is the source of grief in our life, conflict is the bread and butter of the theatre. It is interesting in coaching scenes – – where well intentioned actors are trying to figure out why in the world things are not working – – they so quickly reach to an exotic varierty of soluitions. They consider pulling out a thesareus and grabbing some “fancier verbs” (although I really never viewed acting as a game of synonymous . . .) They might want to pull up chldherd traumas, knash their teeth, and toss a few rehearsal chairs around the room – – even though they are doing some Neil Simon and not Lear. They throw a list of what they think they know of Uta Hagan, Stanislavsky, Strasberg and Spolin at the moment. The simpleness of just playing the conflict seems way to simple. They are good students, but they don’t yet appreciate the value of working LESS. My classroom motto is “identify the conflict – then work less, but allow more.” Of course, these are the very same students that, should they ever hear hoofs in the distance, the first thing that will pop in their minds will be “zebra” and not “horse”. You know those artsy kids . . .
The part of this conflict lecture that gets the most eyes rolling however, is my belief that we all go to the theatre to watch others suffer. The more the suffering the greater the art. You may say, “what about all of the silly comedies in the world – – where is the suffering there?” I counter back by pointing out that even if your struggle is to win the attention of the girl next door who happens to be attracted solely to circus clowns – – you will suffer – – and the more you suffer pursuing the circus clown-loving girl the more we will laugh. Hamlet or Star Spangled Girl it doesn’t matter. We love to watch suffering. We are an audience of devils.