Robert Dolan is an actor and producer. He is co-founder of Rat Bastard Productions. His first film, Down for Life, starring Danny Glover, Snoop Dogg, Elizabeth Pena, and Kate Del Castillo, will premier at The 2009 Toronto Film Festival. He has five other films in development and continues to work as an actor. He’s had recurring roles on NYPD Blue, Judging Amy, and Close to Home and has appeared on 24, Numbers, Law and Order, Without a Trace, Scrubs, and Alias, among others.
It has been a long road since I first gave this craft a shot, and the one thing that has seen me through, the one thing that guaranteed that I would have some measure of success, has been perseverance.
Perseverance, as defined by Webster’s Dictionary, is “steady persistence in a course of action, a purpose, a state, especially in spite of difficulties, obstacles or discouragement.” It is also “continuance in a state of grace to the end, leading to eternal salvation” – certainly something to strive for.
When beginning actors and/or producers ask me what I think is needed to succeed in this business – and always remember, it is a business – the only thing that comes to mind that all actors, or anyone wanting a career in theater, film and/or TV must have, is perseverance. That is what keeps you in the game. That is what helps you succeed when others cannot take it anymore. To have this level of perseverance means you must love your craft; it must be something that you just cannot do without, something that you are not willing to let go. There is no other reason to enter into this crazy world, where the chances of success are like winning the lottery. You must love your craft, and more importantly, you must love the medium of film, stage and television. This is the arena, the medium, in which you have chosen to work – embrace it.
When I was in NYC, just starting out as an actor, one of the many jobs I held to make ends meet was as box office manager for the great Circle Repertory Company. It was a great job, actually, for a beginning actor. I was able to meet, and even befriend, some of the great theater actors of our time and, even better, see them work. Nothing teaches you how to act more effectively than watching great actors at work. One of those great actors that I met and became friends with was the amazing Judith Ivey. Judith is not only one of our great theater actors, she is also one of the kindest and most giving people I have ever met in this business – or anywhere, for that matter. For those of you who are not familiar with her work, Judith is a two time Tony Award-winning actress for the plays Steaming and Hurlyburly and was nominated for the play Park Your Car in Harvard Yard. She has been nominated three times for an Emmy, having appeared in such shows as Designing Women and Will and Grace.
Judith was rehearsing Landford Wilson’s one woman show The Moonshot Tape for Circle Rep. The play is about a well-known writer who has come home to visit her mother, who has been placed in a nursing home. The writer is being interviewed for the local newspaper; only the writer speaks. The interview begins with such questions as where she gets the ideas for her stories; whether her youth in the town where the story takes place influenced her work; and why she decided to leave home. At first the writer is witty and gregarious, but gradually she begins to reveal more–a childhood marred by the loss of her father and her mother’s coldness; the promiscuity which she was driven to in search of the love and concern which were denied her at home and the molestation by her stepfather which led to the awful event which she describes at the end of the play. You can ever really leave the place from which you came.
We got to be friends, as she would always stop and talk to me when she came into the box office to give me her ticket requests. After several weeks of this, one day she came into the box office and told me that her family was heading back to L.A. (they were living in California at the time) and that was going to leave her with a lot of free time on her hands, until their return for the opening of the show. She said she had heard that I was a fine actor and wanted to know if I would like to get together a few times a week and work. Work on scenes. Work on acting. With Judith Ivey. Needless to say, I told her I was very available for that.
For three weeks, twice a week, on the stage of Circle Repertory in Greenwich Village, a good friend of mine and I would get together with Judith for at least three to four hours and just work on acting, on scene work. To this day, it remains the best acting training I have ever had. It was a truly amazing experience, and one I will never forget. We would work on scenes, primarily, when my friend could make it. When he couldn’t, I would bring in monologues. She would have us pick a scene and we would work on it for three to four hours a shot. Her instruction was more than just scene work; she tossed out exercises one after the other, and she had a way about her that made you never question the path you were taking; you just wanted to do it. Never once did the words, “I wouldn’t do that, “ or “that makes no sense,” or “no, I don’t like that,” or any other excuses that actors use to not act, ever escape our mouths. Eventually, the gist of Judith’s exercises came clear: by the end of each session, my friend and I were completely out of our heads. The focus was completely and totally on the other person, even to the point where we could begin to mimic each other’s mannerisms and vocal patterns. Our egos were out of the picture. It wasn’t even about “concentration.” It was about being in a place where you could completely listen to the other actor with you, and be open to anything. Judith was the consummate teacher.
The Moonshot Tape was a huge success, to say the least, with the theater packed every night, to watch an hour and a half of just pure Judith. At the end of the opening night performance, when the lights came down, the entire theater was stunned into silence, for what seemed at least 10 minutes. I’m sure Judith was backstage wondering if we just hated everything she did. After this long silence, the entire theater, as one, got on their feet and gave her a thunderous applause, applause that went on and on. It was a visceral theater experience, and everyone in the Circle Rep theater that night knew they had just seen something amazing. To use words like “real,” and “natural,” and “truthful,” doesn’t really do her performance justice, although the performance was all that. You were just drawn into this woman’s world and her hold on you was total. It is something that great acting can do.
Her performance that night is one of the moments I draw upon when I want to remind myself of why I got into this business in the first place, of just how powerful and cathartic this craft can be. If I can have even a moment or two of the quality of work Judith did night after night, eight shows a week, I know I have accomplished something of greatness. This kind of acting is rare, as it should be – certainly something to strive for.
At the opening night party, I asked Judith the question: what does it take for an actor to truly “make it?” What does it take to have the kind of career you dream of? Without hesitation, she said “Perseverance.” The ability to never quit, no matter what the drawbacks, no matter how little you have in your bank account, no matter how many times you are rejected, no matter how long you go without work or even auditions; the kind of perseverance that can only come with a complete love and respect of your craft and the discipline of theater, film, and television. The ability to stay in the game, when everyone else falls by the wayside. You cannot control whether or not people think you have “talent.” You cannot control how many times you get auditions or book the job. But you can control your own level of perseverance.
I then asked her why she did this for me, why she devoted her time and effort to an actor she really had only just met. She told me that she could tell from our conversation that I had a true love of the craft and especially the art of film, stage and television; she could see I was hungry to learn all I could. She also said that when she was a struggling actor, trying to get her foot in the door, an actress by the name of Rosemary Harris took her aside and did for Judith what Judith did for me. Rosemary Harris won the Tony Award for the role of Eleanor of Acquitane in The Lion in Winter and has worked with the likes of Laurence Olivier and Peter O’Toole. Judith asked Ms. Harris how she could ever repay her and Ms. Harris said by passing it along, helping when you can. Judith was helping her fears and doubts as she was embarking on a new role, a new play, by helping me become the best actor I can be. It was her way of persevering, following a course of action, a purpose, to continue on. And she certainly continued in a state of grace, by selflessly giving of her time and efforts to help a fledgling young actor persevere in his craft.
So, there it is. What is the one thing you need to succeed in this business? Perseverance. What will determine the type of actor and human being you will be when you “succeed?” Helping others. Help your fellow actor when they need help, giving of your time, knowledge and expertise whenever you can. We are community, a family, if you will. Give of yourself.
Decide if you truly have the love of the craft of acting and the love of the art of film, stage, and television. If you do decide it is what you must do, do not let anything or anyone derail you. David Mamet said, “It is not childish to live with uncertainty, to devote oneself to a craft rather than a career, to an idea rather than an institution. It’s courageous and requires a courage of the order that the institutionally co-opted are ill-equipped to perceive.” In other words, persevere!
This is really lovely. It’s a great moment when, as an actor, it dawns on you that you are part of an oral tradition. (It would be so interesting to find out who Rosemary Harris’ mentors were and how far back you could trace this strand of Robert’s artistic lineage. Or you could call it a kindness lineage.)
Robert LuPone did a similar thing for a bunch of us young actors years ago at MCC Theater in New York whenever the stage was dark. He taught us the moment-to-moment work that he learned from Fred Kareman, who developed his take on the moment-to-moment work with those original Neighborhood Playhouse cats. (Bob now runs the theater program at the New School now, FYI.)
Inspiring stuff. Thanks Robert.