Dancing with Donleavy
Michael talks about the joys of Irish whiskey and the dangers of method acting
âQuiet, please. Quiet on the set. Thank you.â The set represents the exterior of The Bleeding Horse. It is a pub. Or is it a grave? Or a horse? The text is not clear.
I should have been paying more attention, reading more carefully. When I read J.P. Donleavy, I feel that I have fallen drunkenly into a large rabbit-hole: not in pursuit of some silken-haired Alice, but fatally seduced by a copper-coiffed Colleen. Tumbling through a warren of bars and bedrooms, I lose connection with space and time.
When the director shouts, âAction!â I am silently to count three beats, then enter by the side door. I need to know what it is that I am entering.
Thereâs a lot of that stuff in Donleavy. He also talks of entering a barrel of Porter, when he is dead, and decomposing in it.âI wonder, will they recognise me?â he muses.
âCut! Three beats, not a bloody daydream,â The director doesnât understand I am a method actor. I need to know my motivation. He sighs.
âSomeone pour the Powerâs Gold Label.â Thereâs a lot of that in Donleavy, too My motivation glistens on the table. I am nearly distracted again. I have a line here: âMy bile is greenâ. My timing is okay, but I read it as âbibleâ. The director likes that. He wants to keep it. In an interview later, he will cite it as an example of an actorâs improvisation enhancing the script. âA subconscious allusion to priest-ridden Irelandâ.
âAction!â This time, I stick to the script, and my delivery .....
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By Michael Jackson
Section : Musings with Michael Jackson
Page number : 11
