Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Supplemental Post 5 Presley

As I was scrolling through Facebook about a week ago, a picture of Elvis Presley then and now appeared on my newsfeed. Obviously intrigued, I clicked on the pictures description and here is what it read:

SAN DIEGO, California -

Earlier this month, an 80-year-old, homeless, white-bearded man was found deceased under an overpass in San Diego, California. Nobody knew the man’s name, but friends referred to him as Jessie, so investigators decided to try DNA testing with hopes that something would pop up in the nationwide DNA database. What popped up on the computer screen in the high-tech lab stunned everyone. The DNA results of ‘Jessie Doe’ were an exact match to the one and only, Elvis Aaron Presley.
Lab technician Robert Brensdale said he and his lab assistant, Madeline Hedgespeth, laughed when the name popped up. “We thought somebody, somewhere, somehow in the system pulled the greatest and most elaborate prank on us ever, we both laughed with hysteria for about an hour,” Bresndale told Jerry Hardin of the Hollywood Word, a new entertainment publication based out of Los Angeles.
Brensdale and Hedgespeth then went to their superior with laughter, as if he were the one behind this “prank”. They were told to simmer down and stay quiet, that this was no laughing matter. From there, the results went up the ladder to the FBI and CIA.
Now, weeks later, FBI spokesperson Philip Hunter has revealed that the deceased man’s body was actually the body of Elvis Presley, who had been in the witness protection program since 1977.
“Mr. Presley was placed in the program under a voluntary basis. He was not a witness to any crime or anything like that. Once he had met President Nixon, the two became great friends, and Mr. Presley wanted out of his life, he wanted to be an unknown, so President Nixon made this possible. Yes, it is official – Elvis Presley was really alive all that time, and only a handful of people knew it, most of which are no longer with us.

The picture was posted on a random persons profile, Davi Colon. He seems to have no ties to the CIA or FBI, has a pet tarantula and cornrows, wears a puka shell necklace, and lives in New Mexico. Despite the obvious sketchiness of this claim, my heart started to swell with belief. And others seemed to feel the same, as his post has over 1 million shares on Facebook. I started searching frantically on Google for further proof. And I realized how deep the conspiracies over Elvis's death go. He apparently was involved with the mafia and had to go into witness protection program. Sightings have been made everywhere- he was even an extra in Home Alone. On his 80th birthday he returned to Graceland to visit, and he was seen in the pool house right after his death. There's even an 'Elvis Presley is Alive' Facebook group filled with sightings. Theories on why this obsession with keeping Elvis alive persists also flood the internet, which psychologists attributing it to the masses not being able to accept the death of their God- which Elvis was. And maybe this is true because I  can't help but think this is just the government trying to cover his death! It's an insane thought to have. But there's so many odd things about his death. His middle name was spelled wrong on the tombstone- because of the families inability to fully bury him since he was not dead yet. In interviews, his wife accidentally let slip she talked to him yesterday. And his father made the medical records sealed for 50 years (until after the real Elvis would actually be dead). Maybe it's wishful thinking, but, although nothing else online confirms this Facebook story, I still cant help but to think it's true. 

Supplemental Post 3 - Tucker Rayl

If you play HQ, the trivia game show app, then you probably know and love Scott Rogowsky. He's the unabashed, pun-loving, constantly-chattering host of the show, who has gained a cult following because of the app.

What really intrigues me about Scott's fame is that it stems entirely from hosting work he does for HQ, which keeps an incredibly tight on his persona. Last November, Scott agreed to do an interview with The Daily Beast, but the creators of HQ, who also made Vine (RIP), got very upset, saying that journalists have to go through the proper channels (ie. them) to contact Scott. They can't contact Scott directly, which I found very odd considering they admitted that Scott works freelance. HQ thought that Scott would say something damaging about HQ, or that he would talk about products that the app didn't have sponsorship deals with.

HQ seems to be under the impression that Scott can't say he likes Taco Bell without that reflecting on the app, which to an extent is true, since he's the only recognizable (and enjoyable) thing about the game. However, I think the tight grip they have over their host is creepy and exploitative. Even the smallest forms of celebrity will be abused and manipulated for money in our culture.

Guess the star!

Suplement Post #3- Madeline Virga

While I was eating my breakfast over the weekended, I scrolled across an article about the ideal men's body of today. In the article from GQ, from what I assume, a seemingly average late 20s male has decided to research the switch in body image of Hollywood male stars. The topic of this article was promoted after the author, Clay, watched the new Baywatch movie and noticed Zac Efron's new ripped body. From his perspective Zac's body is different from the status quo; no longer repping huge arms such as the likes of his co-star The Rock.

Clay sought out a trainer and asked him questions about men's body of today, and if there is a shift to a more "Efron" type body. The trainer first tells him that most men coming to his gym don't want huge muscles anymore but rather a lean look that shows off the muscles they already have and lose body fat--no more getting swole. This statement seemed to give Clay hope that he to could look like the stars of Hollywood. But as the trainer continues, he squashes those dreams and bluntly tells him his goal of looking like a movie star would take copious amounts of money and all of your time. With his dreams squashed, Clay begins to track this transition among other Hollywood male actors such as Ryan Reynolds, Hugh Jackman, and Michael B. Jordon.

On the topic of body image and masculinity that we have been having in class, this article is significant signifier for the standards of men in and out of Hollywood. Often I don't think about how the "hunks" of Hollywood may affect how "common" men see themselves. Albeit not scholarly, it is a look into the changing standards that we have for men in Hollywood. Like the author states, in the past, the status quo was a more rugged build with huge arms like The Rock and Arnold Schwarzenegger, or the toned but semi-lanky Ryan Reynolds from Van Wilder, and a young Efron. But as they proposed today, we are leaning towards a more lean look.

My question for the class is, do you think the standards of Hollywood men have changed? Do you think there are more varieties (Dadbod, lean, bulky)? Do you think it will move to more body positivity like women are moving towards?

https://www.gq.com/story/no-country-for-swole-men


Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Supplemental Post 3 - Giuliana Petrocelli

Our viewing of A Streetcar Named Desire in class was the second time I had seen the movie. Each time I am captivated by the intense emotions in a film with such a limited cast and setting. This speaks highly to the acting in the film, and as many classmates have pointed out in their posts from this week, A Streetcar Named Desire is the prime example of method acting versus melodramatic acting. As a film student, it is extremely interesting to compare Marlon Brando's style with Vivien Leigh's acting because clear schools of acting are right on the screen. In the past, I have felt that this is distracting to the story in A Streetcar Named Desire, since I am so focused on Vivien Leigh's drama as contrasted with Brando's method acting. Yet this is a great way to begin to understand the differences between the two styles.

I learned even more about method acting in a Q&A with Jason Isaacs this week and thought I would share the insight with the class. It's not much, but since I am not an actor I have wondered why some actors choose method acting. We have heard the crazy stories of Daniel Day Lewis being Lincoln all day long, etc. and to many people it seems absurd looking at it from the outside. In this Q&A, Jason Isaacs explained that he tries to embody a character all day during the shoot because when the director yells "Action!" you don't want to have to "put on" and entire character. Imagine being yourself and then in three seconds changing your entire persona and accent. He says it is much more helpful to just carry the persona with you during the day (such as mannerisms and accent) so that he can pay attention to smaller details of each scene.

Core Post #2 - Erin Cooney

It was interesting to read about the argument made by King in Stardom: Industry of Desire around the difference between acting for the stage and for the screen. The other readings also touched on this question in different ways, but I was interested especially in the discussion of authorship that King raises. The argument presented in this reading is that actors are much less the author of their character or of the narrative their character appears in when they're acting in film as opposed to on the stage. The examples presented of how the director/editor controls the performance for the screen stuck out to me, suggesting that in some cases, what the actor is doing is largely irrelevant to what emotion or story is expressed on screen, with the example of the shot from Queen Christina or the example of people being unable to distinguish between the two different scenes from the prison when the actor's performance was recut, even when the actor was doing something completely distinct in their performance in each scene.

The discussion of control--over a performance, over a character, over a narrative, etc.--is really interesting, especially as the article continues and thinks about casting. What an actor brings in automatically to their role, based on what they signify cultural just in their appearance/"natural" personality or style was discussed, in type casting and in how the article suggests so much of casting has started from the physical and from the persona of the star, outside of their general acting ability. This is certainly interesting to consider in a context of increased public scrutiny around casting decisions, when we're thinking about things like whitewashing in film--both in adaptations from other mediums or in assuming whiteness as a default--and in issues like casting able-bodied actors to play disabled characters or cisgender actors to play trans characters. There is a lot happening here around what actors signify and bring in based on who they are and what they represent culturally and so on that is pretty complicated. This is true in what they signify physically, certainly, but also meaningfully in what they bring into their performance in terms of their own experience and how we consider people playing roles outside of their experience--a cis person playing a trans character, for example, ends up drawing on stereotypes and assumptions of that role from a really basic level and the same is true or potentially true of abled actors playing disabled characters, of white actors playing characters who are or should have been characters of color, straight people playing queer people, whatever. There's a lot happening around what actors put into their roles based on who they are and what does to the character and the performance generally.

Core Response #3 - Josh Nallathambi


The performances of the two leads in A Streetcar Named Desire indicate the juxtaposition in eras, acting styles, and star personas.

Vivien Leigh as Blanche DuBois represents what Gledhill and Dyer would classify as a melodramatic way of acting. She brings a larger than life presence to make her character pop off the screen. Her choices fall into the definition of excess of expression involved with melodramatic identities: “hyperbolic emotions, extravagant gesture, high-flown sentiments, declamatory speech, spectacular settings and so on.” Leigh makes the viewer fully aware that it’s her as Blanche. Though her character is suffering a mental breakdown and unstable, Leigh still takes every moment as an “acting moment.” Her delivery and body movement is constantly the most dynamic it can be. She carries herself like she is the main star of the film, which at its release, probably was. She was the one of the main four actors who was already an icon, already playing one legendary character 12 years ago with Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With the Wind. The main draw for audiences going into this movie wouldn’t have been the allure of Tennessee Williams’ play, but Vivien Leigh playing a juicy role. Leigh certainly knew that and milked it every second she appears on screen.

In contrast, Marlon Brando’s performance as Stanley Kowalski embodies the method portrayal of acting. Brando, nowhere near the star he was yet to become when Streetcar first premiered, sought to disappear his persona within the brute physicality of Kowalski’s character. As Gledhill says, the Method allowed Brando to impose his body and delivery in a way that diffused his persona into Stanley without it taking away from the truth of the character. He doesn’t want the viewer to think of it as a Marlon Brando performance. He wants it to be them watching Stanley Kowalski, a brash dock worker in New Orleans. Though it set the stage for the rough masculine persona that Brando would perfect time and time again throughout the rest of his career, his relative low profile at the time allowed for the viewer to attach onto the persona of Stanley Kowalski rather than Marlon Brando.

Core Post 2 - Lauren Sullivan

Dryer’s language discussing Brando’s acting in A Streetcar Named Desire is interesting. He mentions the commonly held perception that the Method is more authentic than other acting styles, but he seems critical of it and never argues himself that this approach is more authentic. Instead, he emphasizes the redundancy that the Method creates or lends itself to. He claims this redundancy is created through prioritizing character over plot, which Dryer notes in Brando reducing his performance to basic psychology, redundant performance signs, and raw and violent emotion. Even more so, he argues that the Method is adaptable to performers “who are essentially the same in every film” (142). Dryer finds Brando guilty of this: “despite ‘fabricating an astonishing array of ethnic accents’ he is always ‘the surly proletarian who suspects every smell of middle-class decorum’” (142). This seems like a contradiction. How can an actor truly become the character he is playing and have all the characters he plays be largely the same? It seems to negate the authenticity of the Method, but perhaps there is more at play.

This brings in King’s arguments regarding authorship in “Articulating Stardom.” When compared to the stage, King argues that film greatly diminishes an actor’s authorship. When on stage, an actor has the maximum amount direct control over the character and his performance. In film, this control is shifted away from the actor and into other hands, like that of the director or editor. Streetcar is based on a play and the film’s approach reflects this; the narrative is not changed much from the play and its editing is largely minimized. This gives more authorship to the actors than other films might, but it is still diminished when compared to theater. Actors are further limited by their physicality and other extra-filmic factors (reputations, personas, circulated biographical information, other roles, etc.), and this means that actors may only be cast in specific roles. This may offer a different explanation as to why Brando’s performances are so similar across his career. Perhaps he does truly “get inside” each character he plays, but he is only cast in very similar roles because of how his physical attributes are culturally coded and how he is publicly perceived as a star.

Core Post 3 Presley

          Having trained as a theatrical and cinematic actress, I agree and disagree with Barry Kings main points in ‘Articulating Stardom’. I agree on the point that acting for film doesn’t require ‘good’ acting because, truly, editing can do so much. Lev Kuleshov, a German filmmaker, articulates this fact by his studies in the ‘Kuleshov effect’. Kuleshov used montage to track people’s reactions and learned that an actor’s acting (expression, in this case) had little to do with the viewer’s response. He presented viewers with a shot of an expressionless actor then a shot of (1) a girl in a coffin, (2) a bowl of soup, or (3) a pretty woman. The viewer’s reaction to the shots depended completely on the latter shot. And in most cases, the viewers praised the actor’s ability to express (1) sadness, (2) hunger, or (3) lust. The actor did nothing but we as viewers think they did something because of what surrounds them. We don’t realize they’re actual skill, like we would in a theater, because seamless editing plays such an important psychological role which is incredibly hard to consciously track (despite Dyer’s attempts on 144-146).
            However I disagree that theater acting is intrinsically better than cinema acting as the reading suggests, because they are vastly different. A theater actor would have just as much trouble transitioning to film as a film actor would transitioning to theater without proper training. First, film acting requires much more of the face and less of the body- you need to learn to look natural on screen, which is far different from being natural yet requires subtler motions and deliberate facial expression. Dyer explains how we hold the face as supremely expressive in film (134). This arises largely from the emphasis on the close-up as a filmic technique. To look natural on stage requires grander motions and articulation, since audience members are at such a distance- which also means there’s less focus on facial authenticity. Fonda realized this shift when he moved to film acting, which he described as, “you do it just like in reality” (Dyer, 141). Second, film actors must automatically fall into and out of character and formulate more of the story on their own. Many films film the end first- the example King offers is acting, “the aftermaths of an affair that has yet to be enacted”. Or they may film something not in the script that the director has come up with on the spot. This requires emotional distance and adaptability. Theater actors are encouraged to really get into the story and let the build up affect them- which the film actor can not afford since it’s so start and stop (My opinions on this contradict Dyer on p.141).  Third, film actors generally are encouraged to use more improv while filming (depending on the director) because there are multiple takes to ‘get it right’. This would never be allowed in a theatrical performance, again an example of how, in certain ways at least, film acting requires more imagination and on-the-spot action. And finally, films usually film day-of after changing or developing the script on set. It’s common that actors may have never rehearsed the scene before or may come in with just a general storyline. Theater actors have much more time with the material (they rehearse for months).
            To boil it down, film actors don’t need to be good in order to succeed, whereas theater actors must be good in order to succeed. King articulates, “for actors of limited or average ability, investing their energies in the cultivation of a persona represents something within their control and a means of competing with actors who have ability in impersonation,” (181). I agree film acting is much more about your persona than your ability. The two fields require vastly different skill sets because, in the end, they are two separate fields. 


Supplemental Post 3 - Ali Appelbaum

       Dyer's chapter in Stars and Gledhill's chapter in SID both mentioned the process of method acting, a process that I find to be incredibly bizarre. It made me think about James Franco, who is known for being a method actor. Spring Breakers, the 2012 Harmony Korine film, was filmed in my beach town of St. Petersburg, Florida. St Pete is NOT a film hub, so this experience was extra special. People scoured the city for celebrities, hoping to get a picture with Selena Gomez, Vanessa Hudgens, James Franco, or Ashley Benson. I am ashamed to say, that I was definitely a part of this. In fact, I got kicked out of the hotel Ashley, Selena, and Vanessa were staying in for lingering around the lobby waiting for them, even though I was a member of the hotel gym.
       James, on the other hand, stayed at a different hotel across town near my house in order to be removed so he could focus in on his character. Not only is James known for method acting, but he is known for preying on younger girls. Word on the street was that James was method acting for this particular film. If you've seen the film, you know that this basically meant that his method was going to be to act like a sleeze throughout the duration of time they spent filming. Soon enough, I heard that a girl from my high school was dating James Franco. They spent every day together, she became his personal chauffeur, and I can only imagine whatever else they did. This girl essentially lost all of her friends because she spent all of her time with him. She was barely eighteen (thank goodness, she was eighteen), and he was thirty-four. It was odd. And, it made me think, at what point is it method acting and at what point is it just an excuse to be creepy and do things that aren't really socially acceptable? Where do you draw the line? If you are playing the role of a criminal, is it appropriate to turn into a criminal? I don't think so. I think there are other ways to connect to a character rather than completely losing yourself in the character. I've tried it and it quite simply doesn't work. You cannot become what you are not. You can place yourself in situations that will teach you more about the lifestyle of your character, but it is really very difficult to just become someone else, especially when you're doing five shows a week or jumping in and out of takes. You can try to "feel it," but most of the time, what you want to feel will not come and you can't let that drag you down in a performance.
       Honestly, the details of James' relationship with the girl I knew were kept pretty quiet, so we don't really know if their time together was motivated by his character work, but it is a strong possibility. But, I do know that she eventually broke up with him because she wanted to take someone else to prom. :)

Core Post 4 - Ali Appelbaum

            An issue that consistently arises in the School of Dramatic Arts within USC is a lack of uniform style or culture. Our professors are very split between methods and styles. Honestly, I have never been able to put a name to the styles they taught, so Dyer’s chapter on stars and Gledhill’s chapter in SID were very educational. I’ve always heard names such as Stanislavsky and Strasberg thrown around, but I never knew what their styles entailed. While it is in one sense awesome to learn an array of styles from different teachers here at USC, hearing different philosophies in every class I take can be confusing. It puts the teachers up against each other as they conflict and go against what each other say. Some classes model a Stanislavsky method in which I am told to talk about my feelings for an hour, connect a past experience to the text, and somehow choke out a tear. Others model a Diderot and Coquelin method in which I am told to mimic the exact way crying looks and sounds: glottal attacks in the throat, light hiccups, and cracks in the voice.
            I think both methods are valid, it really does come down to personal preference, however, I also think it depends on the show. There are going to be some roles in an actor’s career that they quite simply cannot relate their own experiences to. For example, I did a play last year in which I played a racist white woman who underwent a treatment that turned her into a black man who got shot by a cop. I have never been a black man. It was incredibly hard for me to relate to. But, through research, you can find ways to connect to roles without having a direct personal experience. As an actor, it is your job to tackle roles and characters that are unfamiliar or out of your comfort soon. That is why acting is exciting. Playing yourself is not challenging, I don’t know any actors who enjoy getting stuck in roles that don’t push them.
            I enjoyed Dyer’s comparison of novels to films. He explained that in novels we are simply told what characters feels. In depth descriptions describe facial expressions and internal emotions, but on the stage or on screen, actors have to show all of that without added explanation. Often times, the text goes against what the actors say and everything must be conveyed with subtext. He then goes on to discuss how culture helps dictate our interpretation of performance. There are regional and cultural differences in symbols, intonations, and gestures. For instance, I am working on the show Cabaret right now and most of the characters are from Germany. Therefore, we are researching mannerisms that are familiar to Germans, but we are still taking into consideration that our audiences will be heavily American, therefore, we need to find a balance between authenticity and being relatable. The context of where a gesture or facial expression falls within the text is also crucial to consider. A smile can mean a million different things. It can be a genuine sign of affection, but it can also dictate a false kindness. The two smiles may look very similar but the context before and after within the text will help the audience interpret what the smile means.
            King’s chapter discussed how “the stage is the actor’s medium.” This is true. The best screen actors are often first trained in theatre. . In every acting class I have taken, I was always told you learn stage acting first because it is easier to bring an actor down, then bring an actor up. But, I don’t agree that actors have a “preference for the stage.” I have many actor friends, but it is rare that I have an actor friend who wants to pursue a career in theatre. Now, I’m not sure if it’s purely because all of the money is in film, but most actors I know without a doubt prefer film. The two come with very different lifestyles and that very well may have a lot to do with it, but I also think people prefer it because it is more in tune with reality, and often times more challenging and difficult. In Dyer’s discussion of stage and screen acting, he uses a quote from Fonda explaining that screen acting is just like reality. I think it is much more difficult to tackle this form of acting because you cannot hide from the camera. You must be incredibly precise. The camera catches every little twitch.            The King chapter nailed the basis of actor training on the head. We focus on “verbal, gestural, and postural behaviour.” Additionally, we ensure that the “actor must be able to be true to any conceivable character, making all actions believable and spontaneous.” Spontaneity is probably the most important thing we learn and practice: every time we do a scene, it should be like we are doing it for the first time. But, then King said that your personality should completely disappear and leave only the character, which I don’t think is true. I don’t think the Stanislavsky and Diderot methods have to be so far removed from each other. I think there should be a happy medium. Even if you cannot personally relate to the story, actors always bring a bit of themselves into a character or role; it is inescapable.

            King also talked about how one of the faults in creating a character for film is that the process isn’t “linear.” I see what King means in that filming is choppy with lots of cuts and filming often happens in no particular order, but I don’t think that’s an issue. I think the actor creates the character as a whole, not by the order in which they present the scenes. The character work happens away from the camera. It is developed in research and in preparation time before it is actually time to shoot. Similarly, in plays we often hop from random scene to random scene without rehearsing in chronological order. Lastly, I found it interesting that King said that cinema takes “control away” from the actor, giving power to others such as the director and editor. This is true, but I think the same of theatre. In theatre, depending on your director, you give up your autonomy to do what the director wants. If you don’t, you could get fired, and actors are much more disposable in the theatre than in film. I think the additions of the director, cinematographer, and editor are very helpful. An actor can only do so much, but a specific camera angle can make all the difference and elevate an actor’s performance from good to outstanding.

Core Post #3- Madeline Virga

For this week's core post I want to focus on the Dyer reading on the stars performance, and its relation to Marlon Brando. Dyer begins his arguments by setting up acting as a "study of character," then proceeding to describe the various art forms and the acting techniques that coincide. The parts I will be focusing on is film and method acting.

Dyer describes this technique as, "the performer feeling his/her way into a role from the inside, temporarily identifying with the character, or ... actually becoming the character while playing him/her" (141).  Many actors have used and still use this style. Today the most well-known method actors are Daniel Day-Lewis and Christian Bale, but perhaps the most well-known method actor was Marlon Brando.  From the beginning Brando was lauded as being able to portray his character fully, this can be seen in his films such as A Street Car Named Desire, On the Waterfront, and The Godfather. In this article, Dyer focuses on Brando's performance in A Street Car Named Desire. Dyer's analysis states that Brando did not do much to get fully into character, but rather strip it down to "basic psychology," "redundant performance signs," and the emphasis on raw and violent emotions. Continuing, he states that for this role Brando mostly channels an animal aggressiveness which is most evident when he is  "pawing" through Blanche's trunk. Ending his thoughts, Dyer states that method acting is adaptable for actors who are "essentially the same in every film."

Though I have not seen every Brando film, there is one thing that is evident he can embody each character, and make them their own. What may make it seem as though Brando is playing the same person is the similarities between the characters he plays, but fundamentally they are different. Take Stanley Kowalski in Street Car Named Desire and compare him to Vito Corleone in The Godfather, these two men share a violent personality but other than that they are complete opposites. Vito is methodical about everything he does from taking a sip of water to which place he walks into. In Brando's performance of Vito, the thought he puts into everything is visible through the long pauses in speech or the pacing nature of his walk.  As for Stanley, he is more brash and impulsive, not contemplating how his actions affect those around him. Although Brando could show versatility his type of role didn't vary much throughout his career, as he mostly played an alpha male who was more than likely in a position of power. This could be attributed to Brando's masculine persona, and look.

Supplemental Post #2 - Cailin O'Brien


Coming from Darien, Connecticut I wouldn’t say that our town was flourishing with stars to flaunt at the forefront of Uncle’s Deli or Jake’s Place. Having lived for a moment in New Orleans and now living in Los Angeles I have had more exposure to stars over the course of four years than I did over my first 19 years of life. Having said this, it still took me four years of living here to notice local restaurateurs’ use of serving stars to boost their own revenue. About two weeks ago I was at a small vegan restaurant on Abbot Kinney called Plant Food and Wine. Upon entering the neatly decorated front dining room I couldn’t help but notice Hermoine sitting & dining right there in front of me. Now, I can’t say I wasn’t a little excited to see Emma Watson upon surprise, but I was more surprised when my friends and I were brought back to a very large & very open back patio space. Why was Emma Watson, whom I presume would rather be in a quiet corner, seated so directly and obviously in front of the front door? This past week I went out to Bottega Louie for a dinner celebration. Upon entering, who was in front of me but Jerry O’Connell from Kangaroo Jack. My friend must have read my mind because she then explained how restaurants use stars similar to pawns in a game; placing them as an alluring display for potential customers to “stumble upon” as they decide where to dine. Even whilst out to dinner with a date on a Tuesday night stars must feel the strain of the tensions created between their real lives & the roles they play. I used to look down upon SoHo House for having its’ no camera, no pictures rule in place. Looking at it now I almost want to respect it. Stars should be able to go out without being snapped by every camera lens that walks into the room. Using them as restaurant décor seems to me to be dehumanizing.

Core Post - Sabrina Sonner


When Dyer quoted Lawrence Shaffer in illustrating the sort of “outside in” acting common on stage, it reminded me of the different strengths I perceive in the media of theatre and cinema. Dyer quotes Shaffer writing, “In the finest character acting… the audience is still vaguely aware that strings are being pulled, that the actor has concocted special traits for his role” (Dyer 141). This awareness that actors are onstage acting (rather than viewing them entirely as their character) related to that which I perceive to be the ultimate goals of an ideal theatrical experience. The most moving experiences I have seeing theatre are those in which I am ultimately still aware on some level that I am in a theater with other people. With cinema, on the other hand, some of the best films I’ve seen are the ones that suck me completely into their worlds. Seeing Fun Home first on Broadway and then at the Ahmanson Theater would not have had the same resonance with me had I not been aware that other people were sitting in a theater with me enjoying and relating to the incredibly queer story. Watching Black Panther last weekend would not have been nearly as powerful if I were not on some level drawn into the world of Wakanda. It’s not to say that the two are mutually exclusive; I was drawn in by the performances in Fun Home and the reactions of the audience opening weekend to seeing Black Panther at the Cinemark in Baldwin Hills definitely enhanced my experience. But the communal experiences I have in theatre and the immersion into the story that I have in cinema seem to me necessary qualities in to their respective media, while enjoyable but ultimately ancillary qualities in the other.