Y’all! Movie time.

There’s a brilliant short film from Pixar called Inner Workings. For years, I started my class with everyone sitting down and watching it.

It’s about a man named Paul (that’s never said but I might know a little too much about this film) and pretty much the entire film takes place inside his body. We watch as his Brain and Heart constantly wrestle for control.

Brain’s job is simple: keep Paul alive. (That is, after all, the brain’s only job.) That means avoid danger, learn from mistakes, take the safest route, avoid trauma, avoid obstacle, repeat things that work, etc... Brain is the reason Paul gets out of bed, goes to work, does his job, and will live long enough to pass on his DNA.

(By the way, “trauma” for the brain is anything that is a surprise.)

But in the process, Brain micromanages every impulse Paul has. Heart sees a plate of pancakes and wants to run toward it. Brain stops him, reminding him of obesity and heart attacks. Heart wants to talk to the cute redheaded Brazilian woman at the sunglasses stand. Brain stops him “what if she rejects you?” Heart wants to run into the ocean and feel alive. Brain shuts it down by imagining Paul being eaten by a shark.

As a result, we watch as Paul is almost predestined to take the safest route. The route of least resistance. The route of survival.

He eventually gets burned out and has no joy in his life.

And this is exactly where many actors get stuck in their auditions/performances/careers/what have you.

Over the weekend, I worked with an actor who was in this very head space. She had found some stuff that worked for her before but now, with the audition looming, she was not able to shake the feeling that she was not prepared, she didn’t feel right, and she was sabotaging herself by not being able to let go of what felt good before.

But luckily, she told me this. So I was able to help.

We can’t fault the brain... This is the brain doing what it does best. But when it comes to acting, this evolutionary gift can strangle the very thing that makes you curious, spontaneous, and truthful.

Stanislavski, Chekhov, and Hagen (and many others) all point to the same truth: when the body is alive, the brain will follow. So our job as actors is often to bypass the brain... to stop trying to earn a gold star and just do the thing right now.

And my job, as the coach, was to help the actor get through this.

During our session, we threw everything back into the body. We did a mixture of abstract physical tools combined with some tools that were designed to give the brain a task during the scene so that it would let go of trying to recreate what it had found before.

When we walked away, we not only had a great self-tape but she was feeling much better about herself and able to feel proud of her work.

In Inner Workings, Paul doesn’t find his freedom until Brain realizes he’s on the edge of burnout. When joy and impulse are about to atrophy, Brain finally lets Heart have the wheel for a while. He buys the sunglasses, eats the pancakes, runs into the water... and we see his entire life literally fill with vibrant color, music, and joy.

As actors, we have to do the same. Our brains are doing their job when they help us recall all of the things we’re supposed to know.

But art lives in risk. In living in the unknown. The sooner we give ourselves permission to let the brain take a back seat and let the body lead, the sooner we will be gifted with new information.

So practice that. Let the brain study the structure, text, dialogue, cues, file naming, blah blah blah. But then make sure the brain hands the reins over to the body. That’s when you’ll be gifted with the good stuff.

-J