Everything Is Story

Hi There,

Stories have tremendous power. They can unite us, divide us, even heal us.

As actors, you spend your energy interpreting and bringing stories to life. These stories are on the page, but also in every interaction we have with those around us. Telling an effective story can be the difference in landing the role, or not. It can also be the difference in making connections that matter. So, it’s crucial for actors to understand how stories work — as a concept, as a structure, and as a communication medium.

Understanding the stories we tell ourselves, and how screenwriters or filmmakers try to tell us stories, is the focus of this issue. By digging into the mechanics of storytelling, we can better understand how what we do as actors can support and enhance what’s happening on the page, and inside the frame.

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Be well,

JC

Some of these stories shape us in ways that help us achieve what we’re after. And some are limiting stories that cause us to shrink away.

It took a long time for me to recognize that some of the truths I believed about myself, and the world around me, weren’t truth at all—they were just stories I told myself, based on faulty input. And they were getting in my way. These are the top three story narratives – of many – that I had to rewrite in order to improve my own life.

Story: A teacher determines if I’m good enough to be an actor.
Rewrite: Class is not the place to validate excellence—it’s the place to get better.

While acting in my teens and early twenties, I wanted an authority to tell me I was good enough. I wasn’t even discerning as to who it was. And once I had a teacher’s approval, classes became a tightrope walk of not losing that approval. I chose scenes that proved my excellence and sought applause, rather than material that challenged my improvement.

It wasn’t until I came back to acting at thirty, with achievements outside performance, that I understood real validation needed to come from within. This finally led to focusing on the actual work—the only thing that truly met my own internal approval.

“A teacher is one who makes himself progressively unnecessary.”
—Thomas Carruthers

In his book The Talent Code, Daniel Coyle explains that Talent forms through a road map—in its early development, Talent requires encouragement in order to progress. In fact, encouragement is the most important factor in ensuring a performer continues beyond early endeavors. But he also explains that when Talent remains motivated by encouragement only, it stagnates. Left with encouragement as a motivator, performers focus only on where they currently excel. Talent diminishes, and skills devolve. Performers get worse not better.

For this reason, as I advanced past “beginning actor” I started to lean away from well-meaning teachers using overly exuberant in-class motivation, focusing on and pointing out what I’d done well to my classmates, soliciting applause. Instead, I sought teachers who asked me questions, encouraged difficult practice, identified areas that needed improvement, and used class-time to work through problem areas that were absolutely not my strengths. Some of them even forbid reactions from other students entirely, putting all focus purely on the work. Coyle calls these Master Coaches—and they encourage practicing at the very edge of your current abilities, making mistakes and correcting them… building motivation through personal development, not their own approval. This is the path to true excellence.

Story: If I’m good, I will rise to success.
Rewrite: This career is a wave, not a ladder.

You will drive yourself crazy if you’re constantly comparing where you are in your career to others in your group. There is no one surefire way to carve out a life as an actor.

You will have bursts of great action: bookings, signings, and opportunities. And you will also have seasons where nothing seems to be happening. I’ve lived it, I’ve watched many others live it too. It’s the nature of this business.

At fifteen, when he booked the famous role of Doogie Howser, Neil Patrick Harris received some incredible advice from showrunner and creator Steven Bochco [link]:

“This industry is like surfing. You have to get on a surfboard, and paddle through, and wait for a long time hoping that you’ll catch a wave. And you’ll try and catch them and miss them, and someone else will catch them, and everyone will cheer. And eventually, you’ll catch a wave. And you’ll ride it, and it will be fantastic, and you’ll be really great, and you’ll get all the way to the end. And then the wave will inevitably crash. And you’ll have to turn around, and you’ll have to paddle back out. And you’ll have to get hit by waves as you get back out there. And then once you get out there, you’re going to have to sit around there for a long time waiting for another wave to come along. But the way that surfing works, is that there are always sets of waves that will always come through. And that the goal is to be patient enough to value that metaphor.”

Ride the highs, expect the lows, and let your work ethic be consistent in both abundant times and slow times. There is no “arriving.” Only travelling. You decide how you travel. If you’re fulfilled during the fallow seasons, you won’t fear them when they inevitably return.

Story: Only giant leaps yield results.
Rewrite: Small rituals, repeated daily, add up to big wins.

I remember starting so many plans to get better as an actor. They always had an achievement at the end, and they always seemed so perfectly formulated around bold moves. For a while, those plans were great. I could commit for a solid two weeks. But soon the rigorous schedule of expected achievements I set up for imaginary “better me” wore me down—I wasn’t making the progress I assumed I would make, and I seemed no closer to the expectations I set for myself.

Working in fits and starts served me poorly. So how could I work differently? Breaking down a script once every three months had no impact on my abilities. Breaking down twenty pages every week? Better. Breaking down one small scene every day? Now you’re talking.

Growth is painfully incremental, and it’s hard to see progress at first. I often gave up too early because I’d set out to do too much, with the wrong intentions. By establishing a daily practice focused on the skills I knew I needed, I built a life-long routine… not a temporary “trick” to get what I thought I wanted. Over time, the routine became the focus, not results. And eventually, that incremental action reaped rewards—auditions came in and, because I’d been doing the daily work, I felt prepared to tackle them. I could enjoy the act of creation, free from the stress of worrying I was unprepared.

If you build a routine aimed at artistic growth, and stick with it every day, good things will happen. Just not on a timeline you arbitrarily choose. But your abilities will grow, and the investment in yourself will eventually pay off. Build the ritual, repeat it daily, live the life you need to live in order to tackle the life you want.

As someone who spends hours daily breaking down scenes and scripts, I often turn to books on screenwriting to help me decode the author’s intentions. When Yorke says he’s going to take you into the story – he delivers.

Reading this book, I found myself highlighting so many things I literally can’t share them all. Here are some of my favorites that I believe can most help actors:

• Ego Defense Mechanisms: Faced with extreme stress some characters will laugh, others will cry, some will intellectualize, some may punish others. It’s a cornerstone of characterization, but it’s a centerpiece of psychological theory too.
• Dialogue plays an essential part in the creation of a character’s façade; unless their guard is down, people speak according to the way they would like to be seen.
• Good dialogue, then, is a manifestation of behavior, not an explanation of it. Great dialogue shows us who our characters are. Telling is showing – it reveals character.
• Dialogue is not narrative either; it’s not there to carry the story: dialogue is the characters’ responses to the narrative – their reactions to the obstacles that litter their path. Speaking, then, is another form of ‘doing’ – it’s a tool used by characters to negotiate their way around an obstacle.
• Dialogue isn’t just about what someone says; how they choose to say it is important too. Every utterance reveals something of the melting pot of desire, culture, background, worldview, status, social codes, gender, subconscious fears and upbringing – the crucible from whence they came.

Purchase on Amazon:
https://jamiecarroll.me/into-the-woods-amz

Purchase on Barnes & Noble:

https://jamiecarroll.me/into-the-woods-bn

Purchase from an Independent Bookseller:
https://jamiecarroll.me/into-the-woods-indy

Or, check the stacks of your local Public Library.

The essays here cover everything from film and television to politics and social sciences.

I already have far too many favorites, here are just a few:

Parasite’s Perfect Montage

Bong Joon Ho’s masterpiece is filled with symbols and details that take several viewings to appreciate. Here the focus is the stunning montage of sixty shots that ends Act One.

Succession: Say What You Mean

The Roy family from HBO’s Succession is a masterclass in the phrase “watch what they do, not what they say.” This eight-minute essay takes us through their chilling ease with insincerity and the depth of their subtext.

Allowing an outsider to observe an actor working in this vulnerable state makes building this trust impossible.

Audits are disruptive and benefit the teacher… not the actor in training. So, it’s not something I allow.

But I also believe you should be able to see the work we’re doing before you commit to signing up.

That’s why I am offering a free On Camera Lab test drive for actors that I haven’t worked with yet.