The Seven Year Rule Revisted

The Seven Year Rule is complicated.

As I've stated in my previous post, there is some definite method to the madness. By violating the rule an actor risks losing control of her choices becoming a slave to her own emotions and disregarding the given circumstances of the text. We've all seen it happen in black boxes across the country. I once saw a perplexing production of Country Girl in which an actor completely disappeared into himself while staring at his own outstretched hand and slowly sinking to the floor while the action continued around him. It was terribly distracting for me as an audience member because I just could not comprehend the relevance of his choice to the play. His "moment" was so all consuming for him that he created a black hole on the stage and I missed a good 10 minutes of the play because of it. His company members were obliged to bring him back from the brink so that he could say his next line. They did it with great difficulty.

I have no idea what that actor was "using" in that moment and I can only speculate that he was violating the Rule. However, the nature of his distraction was not unfamiliar to me. Self-indulgence and self-fascination are telltale signs of an actor using something "hot" as an emotional propellant. Although one can never quite tell if it is the violation of the Rule or just a selfish actor.

The Rule, however, does not preclude us from using immediate emotional stimulus. On the contrary. One should never suppress what is bubbling up from your daily interactions. For example, during a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream in which I was playing Helena, I found myself laboring under intense, self-inflicted pressure. I believed that the director thought I was a moron. My mother was coming out to see the production and she had not seen me perform in almost 10 years. I felt woefully inadequate and unlovable. I spent most of my time backstage crying my eyes out but once I hit the stage I did my best to cover up my shame and perceived sense of immediate rejection. My cast mates were always waiting in the wings with quizzical looks on their faces. Why aren't you just letting it go? You are so Helena right now. Get on that stage and use Shakespeare to express your self-pity! It wasn't until the dreaded performance in front of my mother was over that I let myself experience onstage what I was experiencing behind the scenes. My work took off and Helena and I were finally one. I did not spend the performance weeping- the tears I had shed were merely a manifestation of blocked energy from a denial of key circumstances in the text. When I let myself feel what I was experiencing in the moment and gave myself over to it I found Helena's humanity- and my own.

The Immediate must never be ignored but your system's ability to handle past traumas should always be respected. This profession can be emotionally treacherous and one must be careful not to prostitute themselves through their art. Some things are private and should remain so in order for the actor to do his work safely.