Hello, lovely fellow theater lovers! Before beginning this entry I feel compelled to make the following disclosure: I have never seen this play done, I have never been an actor in this play, nor had I ever read it before this week. I’m rather glad of that, as I entered this process with no deeply-planted, preconceived notions about it. I have now read the play, read all the blog entries to date, and also a few online analyses for good measure. As is usually the case, the online analyses I read offered only a handful of insightful tidbits, and missed the mark entirely on getting truly intimate about what’s really going on between these two people. The blog entries have been far more interesting to me. In an effort to “think less and play more,” I shall fight my overly-analytical side and jump right in with a few ideas about the play, reactions to blog entries, and how at least one American actor would probably approach it.
Approaching this in “meta level” fashion … interesting. While I agree with Axel’s mother that the “think less and play more” approach is good (I feel it typically results in more emotional “charge”) I would amend that approach by saying “think less and play more on stage.” For me, thinking (i.e. analyzing the events leading up to the starting moments of the play) is one of the rich parts of the rehearsal process that allows actors to “forget” that history on stage, and react most naturally in the moment (is that what is meant by “traditional American Naturalism?”) What would keep this piece from becoming merely a psychological chamber piece, in my opinion, is a deep-enough understanding of what these people have been through up until now, that the emotions have become sensory for the actors – and that this particular moment in which the play starts is significant, because something in the “same old routine” is different enough that Shepard feels compelled to call our attention to it exactly when and where he does. I also agree with Brian that having as much rehearsal time to explore as you have is certainly a luxury where we come from, but that there is also a danger of becoming overly analytical and losing connection with the illogical things that make characters like this tick.
So, what is it exactly that makes these characters tick? This is where the archetypes begin to bear relevance for me. First of all, let’s please not confuse cowboys with pioneers and Teddy Roosevelt… lest I spiral into a lengthy and off-target discussion about that right now, suffice it to say that “cowboys” aren’t in the business of taming vast lands nor at all concerned with manifest destiny. Cowboys herd cattle (and a few do still exist). They became legendary after the Civil War, when – under extremely hard conditions and with very little pay – they herded thousands upon thousands of heads of cattle past the Mississippi River into the Texas plains. The “legend” of the cowboy began then: stories of how they were so tough they could get through anything. This legend later grew into mythic proportions, but what sticks in my mind the most is the idea that they live by their own code. And whether you agree with that code or not doesn’t matter to a cowboy, as long as he knows he’s “walking his talk.” Americans are not so much in love with what a cowboy looks like or what he does, as with what he represents: the freedom to live an honest life, even if it involves bucking the conventions of the masses, and the strength to do it with ease. Eddie clearly sees himself as a cowboy, and wants desperately to be one… to be ok “on his own” … a tough guy… the “loner” that wanders the deserts, living by his own code. Yet he’ll never be free, because he can’t face nor accept his own reality. This “guy” is not a real cowboy – and, in my opinion, Shepard designed him the way he did on purpose.
A word about May: I don’t see May as an implicitly weak figure. On the contrary: if anyone in this play has the capacity to grow and have any shot whatsoever at changing their life, it’s May (thankfully, Martin isn’t dysfunctional – just a bit slow, in my opinion). I’m glad I read this play because it depicts without apology the inner workings of co-dependency (which is the foundation for the baffling condition that often called “battered wife syndrome” in the states). It is obvious that May doesn’t love Eddie – she even says so. It is equally as obvious that Eddie doesn’t love May – although he doesn’t say so, because he can’t, or perhaps won’t, realize his own truth. So why is it so hard for May to let go? Because the struggle it isn’t about love at all. In the end it isn’t even about power… or control… or getting even… such struggles psychologically speaking are “symptoms” of co-dependency, not the root of it. I’d be very interested to know what your explorations of those complex struggles were like in rehearsals – how did you explore them? And did those explorations lead you to any further insights into why the cycle continued between May and Eddie? And what it would take to break it?
Music – more on that in a later entry
Overall thoughts: I could write a Thesis about this play (and I’ve just about done it here!), so I’ll wrap up by sharing the broadest thoughts that are swimming through my head about it: the truth is black and white – it’s how we feel about the truth that creates shades of gray between us. And reality is what it is – we can choose to see it however we like, but every choice we make has consequences far beyond the “here and now.” A penny for your thoughts!
