Acting Theory

So, this was an unplanned blog. But I as I began to be more and more bombarded with this weekend's obsession with Batman, The Dark Knight, and Heath Ledger's performance of the joker.

I have some things to say about Batman, and how they'll get excited about ANYTHING Batman, whether its dark, light, bad-ass, good-ass, or whatever...but I don't wanna get into that.

I wanna get into the praise being heaped on Heath Ledger's performance. Granted: I HAVEN'T SEEN IT. I want to make that clear.

Even folks very close to me have dedicated a lot of time talking about how special Ledger's performance is. I'm sure it is quite entertaining and quite effective. But, I wonder...what's the price of art?

It is apparent that Ledger's approach to his work had a large hand in the activities that eventually killed him: drug abuse. He was said to have developed a reclusive lifestyle during the filming of The Dark Knight as a way of getting closer to his character. He died, alone, naked, on a mattress on the floor. One of his most recently acclaimed roles is the starring role of Candy, a film about a heroin addict (Ledger) in love.

Emotional memory is one of the fundamentals of modern acting theory, but I've always been uneasy about it. I think you'd have to be pretty skilled and careful to tap into memories that have a powerful affect on YOU, and then be able to bastardize them, literally: cut them off from your own personal connection, then transform them into a tool to entertain, enlighten, or what have you. It seems you'll either tap into something you really shouldn't get into, for your own good. Or, the audience will have front row seats for a psychiatrist session between the actor/patient and the good Dr. Stage (or camera.)

For me, acting is about exploring the text, the actions of a written character, and then filling those with life. If you do that, the character will blossom.

The alternative is, an approach like Ledger's, a head-strong attempt to become one's character. In this case, a reclusive, demented, killer. His praises are flowing from every direction. He isn't hear to enjoy them.

So, should we be talking about what a good job he did? Maybe we, as audience, should be thankful that a man would be willing to go so far to entertain us. Maybe, we should re-examine the whole thing, and see a man so dedicated to a harmful approach to his work, that it killed him.

I have a hard time reading comments complimenting him on "becoming" his character. What he gave up to "become" the joker, ultimately affected his life in such a way that he died before he was 30.