Wildy conceited with no self esteem

This is advanced warning that the next few weeks on this here blog are going to be hijacked more or less by the fact that I am in this show. As I’ve mentioned previously, involvement in this sort of production slowly becomes all-consuming until there is nothing else, it fills the horizon like a tidal wave threatening to sweep everything else away.

If you’ve never been involved in theatre, or performance in general (or even if you have), you might find this incredibly self-indulgent and boring as bat-shit an interesting series of posts.

There’s a line from Stephen Sondheim’s Company that describes one of the characters as “wildly conceited with no self-esteem”. Anyone who spends any time around actors knows that this comment sums them up beautifully and I place myself firmly among them.

Performance ego is forever balanced on a knife’s edge. A single compliment and the world is your oyster – the greatest actor the world has ever seen; a hint of disapproval and everything falls apart – who are you to be demanding money from people to see your pathetic performance? It really can be that dramatic (and yes, the pun is more than deliberate).

Of course it’s not always that full-on, but ask anyone who ever gets on stage and they’ll happily admit that a carefully placed word by the right (or wrong) person can significantly affect the way they feel.

But it’s more complicated than that. If it was simply a matter of feeding off compliments, every actor would be bouncing off the clouds. Rarely will anyone criticise you to your face. It’s obligatory to say how much you enjoyed the show and how good a performance was to any actor involved. It’s polite, it’s not being an arsehole. You know they’ve slaved their guts out over the thing, so you’re not going to turn around and tell them what you really feel – that they sucked sweaty goat’s balls and that you would rather stab yourself in the eye with John Howard’s eyebrows than have to sit through that tripe again.

So here’s the rub: an actor lives off compliments, but doesn’t believe a word of them, because they too know how it works.

But again, a complicating factor: while actors don’t want to be patronised and told that it was great when it really wasn’t, they also don’t want to be told it was crap because it will shatter their fragile little hearts.

And so, to borrow a line from City of Angels, you get to trust your instincts after a while. Because you can't believe a word anyone ever says to you, you develop your own barometer.

Predictably, I’m currently in a low ego ebb.

I know that I am a good actor and I have a significant body of empirical evidence to back that up (see the conceit!?) and yet the role I’m rehearsing at the moment is going nowhere (and then the lack of self-esteem). Self-doubt is creeping in. I feel like I haven’t played a decent role in five frickin years! I’ve forgotten how to do it. I feel wooden and awkward.

To make matters worse, the cast for this show is brilliant, every one of them, and I feel like I’m letting the team down.

And so is the lot of the actor.

I have no doubt there are others in this cast thinking exactly the same thing about themselves. And I know there will be people who will howl with protest at my self-flagellation, but there’s nothing anyone can do about it – it’s just the way it works. Always has, always will.

I know I’ll bounce back – all it takes is one good rehearsal and I’ll be back in the game, but it’s not so fun when you’re on the wrong side of that knife’s egde.



UPDATE: Best. Response. Ever.

"Oh, listen to Tom banging on again like a tool, why don't you just fuck off to the VCA and roll around on the floor pretending to be a fish for 3 years."


UPDATED UPDATE: It seems there has been some confusion about the unattributed response posted above. I can assure you that I deliberately posted it out of context 'cos I found it high-larious and that the unattributed (and now mortified) party meant it entirely in jest - fo shizzle.