#omgtweetsniffleclaptext
You've at some point heard actors ponderously talk about how some actor or other is "generous and really listens." But what is all this about listening? What does listening matter if you know what your next line is anyway? Don't you just make sure the other actor is done talking, then fill in the void with your line? Or, if you're a real pro, you just slightly overlap the last word they say with your line? You know, "picking up the cues?"
Umm. No.
Listening versus Hearing - The Thrilla in Magilla, or something
Listening is not the same as hearing. Unless you've been declared totally hearing impaired, you can hear. And unlike seeing, tasting, touching, or to some extent, smelling, you can't pick and choose what you will hear. If the sound is made close enough to you, you heard it.
So it makes perfect sense that your brain decides hundreds of times a day to ignore what you hear. You'd lose your mind otherwise. Unfortunately, though, when it's time to listen, you may find that you're far better at deleting and ignoring what you hear than you are at really taking it in.
Then there's the problem of choosing what you will admit you heard. This is not unlike choosing what you will and will not see, which I discussed in an earlier, rambling post. If you don't want to lose a friend, you may not hear the sarcasm in her voice, for example, and be utterly amazed that people in your life ask you why you deal with that condescending piece of - BLEEP - .
Of all the five senses, the sense of hearing is probably the most fallible. This is why comedy writers love teasing us about it, writing endless jokes with patterns like this:
NAG
I want you to spend more time with my mother. She's good to us. Good to you.
NAGEE
Yes, dear.
NAG
Give her a birthday card. Invite her to have dinner with us.
NAGEE
Yes, dear.
NAG
I'll make it easy for you.
NAGEE
Yes, dear.
NAG
I've asked mother to move in with us.
NAGEE
Yes, dear. (PAUSE) WHAT?
The humor is based on what you might call "echo memory." Seems our ears and brain echo what we've heard for a few seconds after the sound stops. While the sound it is still clanging around in our heads, we can retrieve some of it - at least the last few words. In the comic setup above, it's the Nag's failure to add anything else after the final "Yes, dear," that creates a silence in which the Nagee hears the echo of what went before. By no means was he listening when she dropped the news that mom's going to be their new roommate. He heard the echo of the words a moment later, then reacted. This comic setup is older than the pyramids, but it will always get a laugh because people will always be caught hearing, but not listening worth a crap.
Then there's the tried-and-true "I refuse to listen to things I don't want to," comic bit. It goes something like this:
ARCHIE
Edith, get me a beer, huh? Make yourself useful.
EDITH
Oh, ARCHIE!!! I'd be happy to!!! (scampers happily to the kitchen)
Here, the words are heard and understood, but nothing of the tone is accepted by the listener.
This comic pattern will be funny till the day they stop making people. People's failure to listen fully is legendary and and nearly 100 percent reliable.
As an actor, though, if you don't actually listen during a performance, some day soon - tonight if you're in a show right now - you're going to do your canned, polished line reading and you're going to feel the audience stir ever so slightly. A cough. Maybe a cell phone screen comes on. It's that moment when the audience remembers that they're watching a mere play. You lost 'em. Because the way you delivered your line did not take into account and actually respond to what was said to you and how it was said. Best case, the audience laughs when the scene isn't funny. But you can survive that. Worst case is the audience thinks you're making a character choice, and they'll file it away with the expectation that all the loose ends will come together by the end of the play. If the playwright didn't account for your failure to listen, nothing will seem resolved or sensible to the audience by the end of the play or movie. Stay tuned for the bad reviews and the "Honey, don't you think it's time to get a real job?" coffee date with a loved one.
Why Can I Watch a 2 Hour Movie and Follow Every Word, but Hear Nothing Onstage?
or
Why It's Hard to Listen when You know You have to Respond
One big reason you can listen well to a movie or play is that you don't have to participate or talk back. You're not recalling a line and trying to figure out how best to say it to please the casting director sitting in the back row (within a single stride of the exit, usually.) The mind can remain off self. That's one thing.
On top of that, the action an audience member witnesses is far more limited than it is in the real life matrix where a typical morning moment might look like this: you're running late for work and scolding yourself in your head for it, while you're making small talk with a friend you bumped into at Starbucks while listening for your name at the pickup counter. The CD that's playing in the background is the one your sister wants for her birthday and you're wondering if you should just buy it now and get it out of the way or come back during lunch. Chances are you're hearing everything and listening to almost nothing. Serious sound editing going on. But a movie? Ninety percent of the time, you're listening to two people talking in close up. Period.
You have to train the listening muscle for it to work for the duration of a full scene, or one-person-show, or toothpaste commercial shoot. Listening does not come naturally - not in our culture, anyway. Then, once you've trained yourself to listen impeccably, you must allow yourself your real response to what you heard - AFTER you've heard it. Then you have to further train to respond using the line as your mode of expression. Then, while you're still feeling things, you gotta listen again, with no expectation that what you will hear next will be consistent with what just happened.
I'm going to get into all of this on this blog over time. But for now, if you're in an acting class or in the classroom of life, just strive to listen. That may sound corny, but do it.
I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm sorry, no - I'd like to listen to what you have to say!
Love and drama -
Jill
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