PETER ELIOT WEISS
In 1949, Toby Cole and Helen Krich Chinoy published Actors on Acting, a collection of writings by actors on the theories, techniques and practice of their craft. Now, almost fifty years later, Lynda Mason Green and Tedde Moore have compiled another collection of actors' words, Standing Naked in the Wings. This time, however, the focus is on neither theory nor craft, but rather on the experiences that go along with practice. The book has weaknesses and strengths, but ultimately proves both largely entertaining and useful.
The hundreds and hundreds of anecdotes within it are arranged in chapters focusing on particular concerns in an actor's life, from auditions, school and mentors to the lionized and those who lionize them. There are moving stories about the young, not only juvenile actors but also actors dealing with their own children. There are dozens of accounts of mishaps, occasionally hilarious, having to do with animal performers, sets, and costumes. There is a fair number of nostalgic recollections of early theatre companies, early tours, early radio and television as well as numerous reminiscences of film sets, both Canadian and other.
The major fault of this collection lies in its length. Its readability would have benefited by more critical editing. Even discounting the anecdotes that are little more than braggadocio vainly disguised as bonhomie, or those with no point other than shameless name dropping, and those with no apparent point at all, the book would probably still seem too long. It may have something to do with the nature of gathering together a large number of tiny tales or how, in the cold light of day, that which seemed amusing the night before so often appears trivial. In any case, the book never quite manages to get on the kind of roll that many, if not most, of its contributors have doubtless managed in the bar after a show.
On the other hand, its best anecdotes certainly are hilarious. Greg Kramer's description of vomiting juveniles in Oliver! will likely be repeated by anybody who reads it. There are many, many moving accounts. It is hard to hate a book which includes the self portrait of an actress weeping in a broom closet, having mistaken it as the exit door after a particularly disastrous audition. There are harrowing depictions of steel sets falling, actors flying off stages or onto their faces in the path of stage machinery approaching at high speed. On the other hand, there is no lack of really disgusting stories, especially where animals are concerned. In all of it, there is an earthiness, an honesty, a vulnerability.
It is difficult to remain cynical when reading Standing Naked in the Wings. Anyone who has ever been "bitten," even briefly, by "the acting bug," who has walked across a stage impersonating another human being or thrilled to the visceral gratification of applause; anyone who has experienced an acting class, good, bad or indifferent, an acting teacher inspiring or destructive; anyone who has auditioned for anything or performed publicly in any way will find something to which they can relate. Even those who have never gotten closer to a stage than front row centre will gain a new respect for actors, for the indignities, discomforts, and dangers they suffer with, on the whole, good nature. One cannot help but admire the spirit dedicated to ensuring that the show goes on no matter what obstacles or accidents get in its way.
Hamlet called actors "the brief and abstract chronicles of the time" and, certainly, Standing Naked in the Wings should not be overlooked as oral theatre history. Personalities, places and works come alive in a way that is entirely different than they would in interviews structured to reflect a researcher's specific focus. Out of the very randomness and occasional pointlessness of these miniature narratives can be culled the kind of details that flesh out the ideas of history, that show that a people's cultural heritage is created by people--individuals--flawed, bright, emotional or silly. Standing Naked in the Wings may not be the most major contribution ever made in the field of actors' writings, but it certainly has its own small, but very legitimate place.