Heaven. I feel fantastic when I walk to Columbia because of the architecture, because I get to work on a scene. This time, the director, an Italian woman, she was strong at communicating nuance and working builds and sections, and giving us room. Her neutral presence gave us the floor. I love this scene so much, playing Fletcher was practically divine intervention—play this. Play one these older men doing you a favor. Play one of the greats. I trembled a little, as I didn’t exactly realize that my relationship with the guru, who I call a guru, not like he was like this, but him playing psychologist… him wanting to teach me… was not okay. It freaked me out. “If there were a chalkboard here,” he walked across his living room, picturing J.K. Simmons in this role, though he would have to be emotional, like a nurturer, in his mind, so not the same color.
“I would write family,” just a suggestion, “and circle it.” That clearly did not resonate with me, I did not like that, but he thought it was “a strong theme,” expansive in his regard, “fundamental,” he enunciated.
I still get a little shaky. He scared me, actually. Like, why am I here? I do not know you. This is how we’re getting to know one another… But THAT, on my end, I had to learn “I do not know you,” as a stance. “This is someone you don’t know,” Jesus. But people could act like they knew, which confused me, I was stuck on a “I don’t know why this happening” line, unable to ACT, REACT — “what are you doing?”
And now, perhaps it will become my superpower — throwing this script down “start counting.” You piece of shit. I said, laughing, I hate artists for this reason, this sort of shit gets on my nerves. There was a professor in my theater school in college, who told some girl, truly speaking, and he would laugh, by the way, if I mentioned it, sort of prissy about it. “You’re like a cabinet…” sort of taken with how it just struck him as a thought, “an empty one, you open it and there’s nothing in there…” UGH.
A terrible thing to say to a person. But HE’S a teacher. When I said I was from LA, first day, he basically rejected me, an ENORMOUS city, I mean ENORMOUS. And it worked. I didn’t go, lousy piece of ignorant shit. His methods were superior. I have some people to draw from, it’s fun to play this — teacher, and this fucking LOST PUPPY is getting on my fucking nerves. “Were you rushing or were you dragging?” And she even said, “have fun with it,” meaning, you enjoy messing him. Power.
He’s trying to be GENEROUS. “Are you upset? You must be…” because he’s fucking with his band, unable to tell what the fuck he is doing, so fuck you. Rough. He wants to humiliate him in the end. It’s classic. But it’s probably ultimately for his own good, he will either become a musician with some basic skills, even, to follow a fucking tempo, thanks to him, you see, or become a bank teller, or something Neiman, something more suited for someone so sensitive. It’s probably in his best interest.
He’s a manipulator, but evidently, he’s got the best band in the school, Neima, so he knows his methods work. He’s trained many, Neiman. “Practice harder…” not a big deal, not in the end. I felt so victorious, because it’s a role I could play, I can do psychological genres. I can blow up, laugh it off, switch colors, easily, and the younger woman playing the drummer, Neiman, great name, she’s a very strong actress, so we're really listening, I am listening to her most definitely. So now we’re on break, I’m going to memorize my lines, and I’m going to let go… generally. Yay. Man, I just wish I skipped theater school, to be honest, and just worked this way. Really really fun.
The slytherin I met, he would play a role like this well, he pretended to like me, even love me, just like my mother, and then, in the end, he’s going to fart on the phone at me after I got out of a hospital. Amazing. An inspiration.