acting

Critical analysis of performance

Acting! All the glamour of being someone else then writing a report about it a couple of days later. It was with a blaze of glory that I rose to the challenge of being Raymond Davies for a period of four minutes. I was to navigate through his mind, as revealed in his first novel X-ray, then tone my body to fit his soul as a glove, sock or other item of clothing such as another tight fitting garment anyway. All my acting life had been leading to this moment.

I had been born an actor. As a baby I pretended not to be hungry and often refused to cry. This meant I went days without food and I pretended not to be hungry but ultimately I was and couldn’t play the part that well. I cried and didn’t get the part.

Cut to 1999 and the terror of my acting debut in Barnsley college. After a couple of lessons where nothing happened we assembled in refectory and got asked a series of questions. Some were emotional and deep while others were about ducks and Basingstoke. After this ordeal I was emotional, tears swelling behind my cheeks and filtered through my eyes. I had just been stung by a bee.

I had played the part of myself convincingly, I do this all the time and even sleep as the same time as the subject, but how could I adapt this natural ability to play this character into other forms. My quest was confronted me and whistled through my mind, tormenting and harassing the thought process, to act was a goal .

There was a further steps along my twisted path to acting heaven. The key stage was to pretend to be a friend. I tried to be myself again as I am my best friend - we hang out with each other all the time - but this wasn’t feasible. I couldn’t think up a friend as I haven’t really got any, well any that don’t incorporate some kind of inflatable element and I didn’t want to pump myself up in this way. I decided to impersonate Kingsley Scott for the duration of the lesson, slipping in and out of character like a weak radio transition, flitting between two phases of reality.

Not being a close aquatence of this fellow there wasn’t that much to go on and I was to come to regret this choice of person. He’s just a face, I can’t see behind it. There was no chance of me getting to know this person, his inner truths, his darkest hour, the devils behind the vacant mask, so I decided to make it up. I did know his physical habit of patting his hair and clearing his throat, so this assisted me along the mission to pass my exterior off as his. This is all apart from his face - his body language, his tendencies, his opinions, his voice and his feelings were to transcend into my body. Fraser Campbell would become a host to the spirit of Kingsley Scott.

At first I felt uneasy with this temporal change. It was with a feeling of uncertainty that I was asked to perform this transition infront of a moderate Tuesday audience. I nervously tried to let of vibes of this foriegn character, block and supress the natural Fraser tendencies further inside. But despite this effort they surfaced way too often. My natural, subconsious actions surfacing through the weak filter that was my impersination, my acting, my life.

I was still in a position of learning. My inner desire and deturmination forced me onwards, to the glorious horizon and striving forwards in the name of progress. There was a long way to go before I could pretend to be someone else, Kingsley Scott.

My next attempt was recorded on tape. I felt it was a stepping stone along my valient journey and afterwards I felt proud. Someone who knows Kinsley may not have mistaken me for him but someone who doesn’t know me might take me for someone else. I had managed to supress the little tendencies, the Fraser Campbell had started to disapear and become more controlled. In my diologue I discussed Star Trek, using a database of technical terms such as Warp drives, iota setting, sliding doors and aliens that can talk English. My subject, the fake person who veiled the Fraser Campbell inside, was a fountain of technical knowledge who sat in the corner spraying away, very few people taking a drink. Or even looking at him, let alone tapping into his resevour of useless knowledge. I had been sucessful but greater tests were to confront me on my stoney journey to the magical palace of actordom.

Weeks later I had to try again, this was the prelude to what my acting life had been leading to, a monologue. I was to perform a brief piece to a camera (and camera operator). My preparations were completed as I started my monologue. I stroked my hair ‘I’ve got a sports car!’ I said. I was away. I covered such interesting topics as ‘my’ time working for Yorkshire TV , ‘my’ girlfriend , ‘my’ edit suite. It’s as if his life is mine and I feel like ending it. My performance over I resort to asking lovely Liz, the camera person I have recruited, how it went. She responded by talking.

Then the holy grail of acting, the climax of the first semester. Pressure, perfomance and mystery, I was about to embark on a three to five minute monologue. I had decided to become Raymond Douglas Davies, the man behind the Kinks. I scanned the book, X-ray for a monologue that was suitable. I decided to do the speech at the end of the first chapter. This was a painful decision that took many minutes. It took many minutes because it’s such a good piece. It was painful as I felt the shuddering of Rayomonds inner torment, that and my finger got stuck in the fridge.

Weeks were spent memorising this speech. I decided to learn the words first. I had learnt to read as a child - I knew that some day it would come in handy. I read, I learned, I took my hand out of the fridge. I was about to become an actor!

Christmas came and went - where it went no-one knows, but I’m sure it will return next year. I had a speech in my head, now I had to communicate it with the world! I had been talking since I was very little - how was I to know this skill would be helpful in my acting career? But I had faith in my ability to talk and to be seen, my body moving in harmony with the words to create an illusion, the illusion. I was no longer Fraser Campbell - I was Ray Davies. I celebrated this coming by trying to claim the royalties of every Kinks record made in the last 35 years, I was that confident in my ability to be this person. I smuggled myself into his house and tried to sleep with his wife. Then I found out I was only an actor, but I was doing my reserach. Tuesday the 1st February - my time had come.

In the first aid room, the MS4 staring directly at it. I looked into the lens and imagined it was a person. A set of eyes glaring at me. It was me and him in this stark room. The walls grim and almost looked like a cell. I should have come here when I had my hand in that fridge.

I was in charactor. All traces of the confused matter that is Fraser Campbell were overrun by these emotions. I recited my dialogue. I petered out at exactly the same times in all my recitles, so but my cutting edge media brain could cut through the clouded mass of emotion that was the burdon of a duel life. I had to reposition the camera and do some editing.

It took a little while, but any true art can be achieved in a limited period, as well as this. A close shot to end the drama, to add a variety of visuals and for the purposes of potential cutaways. I fluffed a couple of my lines but for four glorious minutes Fraser Campbell is a stranger and I am a king!

After my performance I divert to the edit suite to cut together the parts to form a whole. I add a title. ‘Fraser Campbell as Ray Davies’ bold, stark, the white letters contrasting the black background. I gaze at the colour, knowing it’s really black and white. There is three hours before my deadline so I get something to eat. Then I cut together my drama.

Although acting wasn’t the objective of my life I feel fulfilled. My life may still be limp and meaningless, but those four minutes of video tape will be taken with me to the grave (unless I tape over it).