The Actor Within: Intimate Conversations with Great Actors

William H. Macy

196 i William H. Macy William H. Macy rose to fame playing loser types: Little Bill in Boogie Nights, Jerry Lundegaard in Fargo, Bernie Lootz in The Cooler, just to name a few. But Macy is no sad sack. His mastery of the actor’s craft and his ability to touch us with sensitively performed roles, such as his Emmy Award–winning portrayal of Bill Porter in Door to Door and Charlie Gigot in The Wool Cap, is proof that he is among Hollywood’s primetime players. Macy took some time in between projects to visit me at my home and share with me how he came to acting and where he thinks he’s headed. ‘‘When did you know that acting was your calling?’’ ‘‘I knew after I met David Mamet. He was my acting teacher at Goddard College, which was the premier hippy school in the late 1960s and 1970s—no rules, no requirements. Mamet challenged all of us in his class to show up with our A game or not come back. He even made us come to class on time. Can you imagine that? Everyone said, ‘Who is this guy, and where does he get o√.’ We quickly learned that David Mamet had an exquisite acting technique. His mentoring changed me, and I dedicated myself to the business right then and there.’’ ‘‘Describe his technique.’’ ‘‘It’s based on action, not emotion. Emotions, he said, are beyond our control. He liked to say, ‘If we could control our emotions, there would be no need for psychiatry.’ Mamet also taught us that our greatest tool is our will and that we shouldn’t worry about talent because talent was a gift from God. You can’t get more, and it can never be taken away. What audiences are willing to pay to see is the actor’s striving to do something. It’s always compelling to see people striving. Mamet’s genius lay in distinguishing what the character is attempting to do from what the actor is attempting to do. He draws a distinction between what Hamlet wants and what the actor playing Hamlet wants. Then there is one more step: the actor has to ascertain and then internalize what the character wants. In other words, what you bring to the stage is your striving for something— not pretending to strive.’’ ‘‘Why did this appeal to you?’’ 198 The Actor Within ‘‘It was attainable, truthful, a goal I thought I could achieve. Mamet used to remind us of Stanislavski’s view that an actor’s task is to be truthful under imaginary circumstances. It’s a concept that really appealed to me—to look for truth and try to live my life truthfully was something I could hang my hat on.’’ ‘‘What can an actor do to ensure a good performance on the stage?’’ ‘‘The whole issue of being ‘good’ is a fool’s end. You can’t be good. It’s the kiss of death. You’re sure to screw up your performance if you go into a play thinking, My agent’s out there, so I’m going to be particularly good tonight, or tonight is opening night and the New York Times will be out there. I’m going to be especially good tonight. To be good is not attainable. What is attainable is to be truthful and just do your job.’’ ‘‘Is there such as thing as a typical actor?’’ ‘‘I have discovered that there are two kinds of actors. Some love every part of the business: the publicity and the adulation, rehearsals, the makeup trailer, the commissary, first read-throughs, the camaraderie with other actors. But when the curtain goes up and it gets quiet and it’s their turn to talk, they don’t love that. It frightens them, and so they rely on their talent and the tricks they’ve learned. And when they’ve completed playing that role, they’re much relieved. Then there’s the other kind of actor, the one who comes alive when it gets quiet and it’s his or her turn to talk. I fall into the second category. I really like it when everyone’s quiet and it’s my turn, when I have to lock eyes with another actor. The challenge brings me to life.’’ ‘‘What’s the toughest thing about being an actor?’’ ‘‘When you strip away the supposed...