“To adlib or not to adlib; ah that is the question!”

“To adlib or not to adlib; ah that is the question!”

Whether it is nobler or not nobler in the minds of most men, is definitely not the question; it’s the challenge that counts!

(Besides… we’re talking about actors and actresses.)

The search for the answer to the actor's commercial voice over performance decision making process: How and when to adlib when we don’t have the benefit of a formal direction. In other words, as is often the case, during an audition, especially when you’re in your own home studio, and flying blind. A wrong choice could be the difference between not only winning or losing, but perhaps being remembered by the person on the receiving end of you’re work: The buyer.

So the script is in your hands, you read every word, including the directions for the role you’re auditioning for, as well as any other roles being described. It's antagonist / protagonist time. You must know who you’re talking to, why you’re talking to them, what your frame of mind is at the time of your speech, and where are you in proximity to the person or thing you’re talking to. In short, the code is an old and simple one to follow: who, what, why, when, where, and how.

You’ve studied the script and have decided that an adlib here or there would be just what the doctor ordered.

Okay then, I’ll go along with that, if you have recognized that, almost always, the commercial message is meant to be the star, not the actor performing the lines.

An adlib and a deletion are two different things. Try to avoid removing anything, which might be deemed to be a salient sales point. The sponsors usually originate important sales points.

Writers, and producers are almost always sensitive about changes, especially when they view their creative writing skills as biblical.

Always attempt to enhance the writer's message. An adlib of any type, regardless of its inherent nature, (meaning a word or sound effect, human or otherwise) must be used as a method of enhancing the writer’s intent.

I.e., if the writer has created a scenario, which he or she feels is a form of humor, then the humor attempt should not be altered. The adlib in all situations should be delivered as an enhancement.

Enhancement as opposed to deletion:

A cough or sputter in a dead space is an example of an enhancement.

Think about the wide variety of sounds we all make as commentary during our day-to-day trials and tribulations. These are enhancements (or could be) as opposed to deletions.

A radio scenario has two characters in a telephone conversation. We have a somewhat blowhard politician calling in and asking a somewhat meek individual for an impossible service to be performed: He’s attempting to return a sandwich he doesn’t care for, by way of his cell phone.

The script calls for the meek guy to turn the politician down, saying he can’t pass a sandwich through the phone line.

The politician says in a blustery fashion, “Well I just did.” That’s where the commercial ends with the politician asking, “Are you going to answer me?” Our actor, following the rule of enhancement, adds the button, “As soon as I can clean the tuna fish off of my phone, sir.”

The sponsor loved the tag we added, and ergo our actor got the job.

Note: On our second take during the audition we replaced the tuna with peanut butter, and had the meek guy trying to clean the mess from his glasses.

Our friend Stanislavski might have referred to it as slapstick.

And now for my favorite: da harv's cardinal rules for adlibs and improvisation:

* Never ever make the sponsor the bad guy. They’re the ones paying the bills. Rule of thumb: One doesn’t poke fun at the boss, does one!

* Unless it’s a written part of the script, never adlib with any form of profanity, regardless of how mild it might be.

* Dialects which are not requested by the advertising agency should not be used as an adlib.

* Adlibs with any form of religious and / or political overtone or connotation should not be used.

* If an underage actor (minor) is part of the presentation, using any form of suggestive double entendre will be considered not in good taste.

In general, what we do is attempt to enhance. Blatantly trying for the joke will usually fall flat.

Kaplan, Solovey, O’Shea, and of course the Pulchritudinous Mrs. Glassberg

Not a sports team; they influenced my life, although I can’t attest to whether or not they did so on purpose. They could be anybody, but today they belong to me. They were my teachers at Public School 233, from the second through the fifth grade. In retrospect, I don’t think they cared for me. (Actually, I’m positive they didn’t like me.)

I remember many more, but these are the ones I choose to share with you, because these are the teachers who, each in their own way, managed to carve their permanence into my life.

All of them are deceased, so I have no qualms about what I will or won’t say. All I guarantee is I won’t embellish on the truth. I don’t have to.

It was Brooklyn, New York, and the Second World War was ablaze. The only men around in those days were a little too young or old for the draft, and those who were classified as 4F (physically unfit).

At the time there was a very popular song, which lamented the fact, "They're Either Too Young or Too Old.” A gal who had no one to date usually sang it. It simply meant: Guys too young or too old for the army were left out of the military service.

Mrs. Kaplan’s pet class was called “Choral Reading.” She had a severe affection for herself. “Lady Kaplan," as I labeled her, stood all of four foot eleven inches tall, but never the less to us little kids she came across as an imposing figure of a woman. “Mirror, Mirror on the wall who’s the most beautiful teacher of them all,” was perfect for her. Mrs. Kaplan never passed a mirror she judged unsuitable to admire herself in. Mrs. Kaplan seemed to be in a constant pose. Her class consisted of having us (third grade) kids memorize the same poem. She, of course, picked the material. Our input wasn’t remotely an option. This didn’t go down well for little da harv. When I submitted an original piece for the class to read, I got a flat turn down without her even giving me the courtesy of reading it. We would then rehearse it as if we were a concert orchestra, and present a performance to the student body. Of course, Mrs. Kaplan was our conductor. After we were all assembled on stage, she would be introduced by the school principle, to a very organized student body response. She was indeed a Brooklyn diva. I do believe I still have a couple of her mannerisms as I direct today’s actors.

One day before class began, I decided to try out my skills on the class before Mrs. Kaplan made her entry. I didn’t realize she was there behind me. As I called the class to attention while emulating the Kaplan baton technique, it suddenly became deathly still. I turned to see Lady Kaplan standing there in a complete over-reactionary mode. She dabbed at a supposed tear as she informed me of how deeply hurt and embarrassed I made her feel. I relay this information about Mrs. Kaplan because it was my first exposure to a serious actress. She had me going. I knew this was going to be my final fling as a school humorist; instead it was a first-hand experience with a real honest-to-goodness actress. It was also my first exposure to a woman who couldn’t turn off. Mrs. Kaplan was always in a portrayal of someone or other. Lucky for me, our school principal had long since become aware of the Kaplan over-reaction-to-everything approach.

During the same year, I went from Kaplan, to O’Shea; from drama queen, to the schoolmistress of music.

O’Shea had her own sadistic little sense of humor. She got off on making the parents upset with her. It wasn’t the era of the broad-minded parent.

At first my mother and father were pleased to hear about how accomplished our school music teacher was and how we were all going to learn harmony.

I doubt seriously if Miss O’Shea cared for any of the parents. I think she resented having to deal with any of them, especially at the Parent Teachers Association meetings. What O’Shea did was pretend to listen to the parents and then do her own thing. Her favorite songs were hymns, of any kind, and "Negro Spirituals." The first time my dad questioned what we had learned that day, he immediately thought my answer was very funny. My mother, on the other hand, didn’t care for her little Harvey learning “Carry Me Back to Old Virginny," "Swing Low Sweet Chariot," "Abide With Me," and "Onward Christian Soldiers,” as our earliest musical assignments. To this day, I still remember most of the words. I have to hand it to O’Shea -- I mean, P.S. 233 was ninety percent Jewish kids. She must have been laughing her ass off every time an eastern European Jewish immigrant parent was subjected to "Onward Christian Soldiers." I still smile every time I think about it. As a matter of fact, I’m smiling right now as I recall those marvelous images from my past.

Not all of my recollections provide a tickle. Mr. Solovey was a returned war hero. He was a decorated veteran who had two ships sunk under him. He definitely displayed shakiness attributable to combat exposure.

We learned discipline from him, and how to conduct ourselves as professionals. Solovey was a basic mathematics teacher. When he gave a student a work assignment, he expected it to be done. We all learned right away, there would be no forgiveness. If a kid didn’t do what was asked of him, Solovey gave them a fail for the assignment. He’d say, “If any one of you doesn’t do their part, the whole team suffers. Ships are lost when a single sailor doesn’t do his required assignment.” I remembered he would get this gray look on his face whenever he spoke of a sailor not doing his duty correctly. Rumor had it he never could forget his loss of comrades.

It was during my third grade that I had as a teacher the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. When Mrs. Glassberg spoke, I listened. I was married to her every move. She didn’t look like my mother, or any other of my relatives. Mrs. Glassberg was a movie star. How she walked and talked made a lasting impression on every kid in the class. The girls would emulate how she walked and talked and the boys seemingly overnight developed unbelievably good manners.

Kaplan, Solovey, O’Shea, and Glassberg, without knowing it, cast a lasting influence on a third grader's future. Kaplans’ drama, O’Sheas whimsy, Soloveys’ professionalism, and Mrs.Glassberg putting on display what a woman should be. Some might say it was my first class in “Woman Appreciation.” Yes. Some might say that.

Pet Peeves

Many of the subjects I write about are generated from the literally thousands of questions I’ve had to deal with in our world of the commercial voice over.

While commercial voice over is definitely an acting craft, there is a certain amount of difference between how the actors relate during the commercial VO audition and the theatrical audition.

The nature of the business is such that the journeyman VO actor is involved with many more auditions than that of his counterparts in TV, film, or theater.

With volume (a great number of auditions) comes a serious condition: it’s called complacency. It kind of sounds like vacancy, doesn’t it? If you happen to be looking for an apartment to rent, look for a complacent actor. If you have the time to wait, you will be rewarded. The complacent actor (unless they're rich by way of inheritance) will soon find himself or herself (usually it’s a him) looking for a cheaper place to live.

And so here is my first peeve: The VO actor who says, “It's all a numbers game.” I see this guy or gal often. They take things for granted and make statements which exemplify failure. Yes… I did say I see this often, but not from the same actors. You see, complacency by anyone is a pet peeve of mine. An actor displaying this aggravating syndrome usually doesn’t make it back for another crack with da harv.

“The very best work I’ve ever done during my professional career, I did for free.”
HK

Another complacent VO actor quote: “Oh they’ll know what they want when they hear it.”

I don’t necessarily disagree with this premise. What peeves me is who is making the statement. During a given audition, before telling the actor I felt they were missing the mark with their indifference to following the directions we go to the trouble of providing, I try not to be complacent. I’ll redirect and give them a take two, or what I refer to as "another day in court." If it happens to be a young actor, or an individual new to our business, I take the liberty of providing that actor with an unsolicited lecture. Much of this particular lecture (yes, I do have many of them) is brought to you thanks to the efforts of John Houseman, and every athletic coach I’ve experienced while growing up.

Attributable to John Houseman is one of my favorite quotes: “Complacency should be used as your condition during the portrayal of the part you’re playing. Complacency should never be a display of who you are, or might be, as a human being!”

Without exception, the baseball coaches all have this credo: “You always go all out to win. You always run out every ground ball and pop fly. If you go through the motions, you’re gone.”

It's an interesting phenomena; the vast majority of show business people and successful athletes in every sport have in common the one thing they're not: Complacent.

I’ve experienced firsthand some of the biggest names in our profession display tireless enthusiasm over projects not worthy of their stage presence.

And athletes who show up long before their call time and leave later than anyone else on the team become the stars that manage to maintain their consistent glow.

Of the actors and athletes who early on were advised they didn’t have what it takes, but ignored the advice to quit while the quitting was good, they were the ones who remained and persevered. None were complacent.

Many think the term “The show must go on,” was originated by a producer who didn't have a worthwhile understudy ready to go on. Others claim it was the understudy who fed rancid food to the star and then pronounced they were ready to go on despite the depression they were feeling over the loss of the very same thespian they had poisoned. In any event, none showed complacency. I guess that’s the point.

Truth be told, enthusiasm and poisoning don’t go hand in hand.

Self-Direction - Part 2

Self-direct as opposed to self-destruct.

As always, the basic rules are so simple sounding. The problem for many actors is the lack of detail and observance of the basic rules.

1. Before studying your audition script, read and understand the directions. If the producer took the trouble to put their directions in writing, it behooves you as the talent to at least attempt to follow them.

2. Now read the script and understand its meaning. I’ve experienced situations first hand where an actor, after studying the script for a prolonged period of time, enters my recording booth and proceeds to tell me how they just can’t figure out what the writer means.

What immediately goes through this director’s mind are the questions of how and why were they even rehearsing something they didn’t understand?

3. Self-directing means telling yourself what to do. Imagine you have a list of directions which are right up your alley. I’m referring to directions, which are part of who you really happen to be as a human being. If your natural bent is city blue collar and the script calls for it, you have it made; supposedly. I say supposedly because you still require more input in order to properly deliver what the producer is asking for. You must ascertain the condition your character is in at the moment of truth; your truth.

I.e., if your blue-collar script allows that you have recently come into a great deal of money (like winning the lottery) and they ask you to portray a rather robust and gregarious person, you are armed with a reason for being in the condition they’re asking for in the given directions.

4. Proximity & Who Are You Talking To, And Why

Okay now Mr. Blue collar, robust, gregarious person; where are you in our scenario. This one is really important.

I.e., are you at a ballgame, and the crowd is pretty noisy?

What if you just put your son to bed, and all is serene? Or you're in your backyard exchanging thoughts with a neighbor?

What I’m reminding you of are the five W’s and an H.

“Who, What, Where, When, Why, and How.”

Almost every script will reveal your answers, in order for you to prepare properly for self-direction.

Whatever the road happens to be, dirt or a paved super highway, it could be your determining factor. Some roads are bumpy, others as smooth as silk. Each will provide direction if you choose to recognize it.

It was just before the audition. The actor stood there on the other side of the glass, facing me. I remember the actor apologetically telling me how he just couldn’t get a handle on what in the name of hell they wanted him to do. He went on to tell me how confused he was, and how he felt like a confused dolt. “You’ve got it now,” I replied without hesitation. His look was priceless. His mouth opened in disbelief as he desperately pointed out his problem with the decision making process. I immediately said to him, “Hold on to that look, and what you’re feeling at this very instant. Just slate your name and do it.” He went through the script and then said, “That was marvelous.” “That was Stanislavski,” I allowed.

The contentious script called for a man of his general age range to be standing in a market in front of an endless line of products, and doing stream of consciousness showing concern over his inability to understand what his wife wanted him to purchase. He nailed it by bringing truth to the present moment at hand. Some might even refer to it as acting. Perceiving and telling your truth to another or to yourself; that’s what Stanislavski labeled it, and that’s what we wholeheartedly teach.

Self Direction - Part 1

Home recording studios no longer represent the rich man's toy. Nor are they just products of the Los Angeles marketplace. The home recording studio has arrived, and continues to grow. Shrinking hardware and software prices have made the home studio economically within reach of the journeyman voice over talent.

Today, more and more voice over actors have home recording studios. For many, what used to be a small clothes closet has become their personal professional studio.

I call these actors “The Pajama Performers.” They don’t have to dress for work. They don’t worry about deodorant, if they need to put gas in the car, or how long it will take them to drive across town to an agent’s office for the audition. All they need concern themselves with is reading the script, analyzing its content and self directing.

The process has built-in pluses and minuses. The pluses are obvious. Saving gasoline dollars by itself is probably a good enough reason to build your own studio. And for those who relish staying at home and mysteriously putting on some extra pounds, that too may be the necessary grist for a self-confined existence.

The problem for many of us is the very distinct inability to self-direct. Some actors absolutely love the sound of their voice. For them, the audition can become an adventure in self-aggrandizement, brought on and stimulated by the sheer love of anything they do.

On the other hand, there are a very large group of people like me, who always feel they can do better. The thought of self-direction actually makes me uncomfortable, especially the prospect of listening back to my own voice and making an honest appraisal. Frankly, I hate doing it. Perhaps I’m overpowered by the genuine importance of each audition.

Without exception, professional journeyman actors who can honestly say they earn a living doing voice over will agree with the importance of being given the opportunity to audition for a job. Never ever use the word “just,” when describing the content of your audition. Only the inexperienced loser may refer to their pending audition as “just another audition.” The word “just” must never creep into your voice over vernacular if you have any intention of sustaining yourself within our trade.

The highest percentage of what you will be attempting in your home recording studio will be the audition.

In my not so humble opinion, beginners shouldn’t contemplate building a home studio unless they are being counseled by an experienced and trustworthy industry professional. Never shop the yellow pages when searching for what could be one of the most important adventures of your life. Word of mouth is the only acceptable input. Anyone can have his or her claims printed. Word of mouth substantiates an individual’s, or a company’s expertise, and reliability.

When it involves your future and your family’s welfare, be with those people who are recommended by the working professionals you might wish to emulate. Don’t hesitate to ask questions. Agents and journeymen actors are the very best source for recommendations.

But if you must self direct, here’s a tip from da harv:

To be continued next edition...