A Guide to Directing Actors and Losing Friends

How to ‘tune in’ actors and some concrete tips on directing them

During my time as a director, it has always puzzled me how fearful most of my fellow filmmakers are of actors.

Directors, often control freaks by nature, like to plan out most aspects of their work, but working with actors is a different story. For a start, unless you’re a big name director you always want to aim higher than yourself when you cast, to get the film some exposure. This means that you come to actors from a position of relative weakness. You must offer the film to the ‘big name’ on show reel only and wait for an answer, then go down your pick list until someone says yes. This process already installs a clear power dynamic. It’s also a gamble, as apart from the intel you get from your casting director, you really do not know what you’re signing up for in terms of personalities. Rehearsals are a luxury these days; usually, you’ll meet with actors on day one. This makes directors uneasy, and their anxiety is further compounded in directing workshops and books, where they are misguidedly told that actors are over sensitive beings that need constant positive reinforcements. As you might have gathered, I don’t believe in this soft approach.

I was a theatre actor for four years, and you learn a lot on the receiving end of directions. In fact, I believe that most directors would be better off doing some acting workshops, rather than learning all the theory and keep treating actors as otherworldly beings.

The fundamental reason I disagree with the ‘sugar-coating’ method, is because it misunderstands the profound motivation of actors. While they might have big egos and bombastic personas, actors have little objectivity over their work. They hide it well, but they are nervous, and their primary fear is to give a weak performance. That’s the number one obsession—not their ego. In this industry, your reputation hinges on your latest project, so actors need to excel.

For this reason, blind positive reinforcement is a bad idea. Actors aren’t foolish; if they sense dishonesty, they will switch to self-directing. They won’t do it consciously, but they will assume that you are not genuinely protecting their performance and will, at best, do it themselves, and, at worst, ask their co-actors—which is another bad idea because of egos.

So whatever the level of the actor, whatever their age, how imposing and tremendously more successful they are compared to you, you must grab your courage and tell them the truth from the get go. First impressions are key. This happened to me with a strong actress once, she was nervous and it was her first scene, on day one. I had to tell her in front of her co-star and the entire crew she had over-acted. It was a make or break moment. Her frustration was obvious, but in the end she did the scene better. You might not make friends doing this (or lose existing ones!), but eventually something will click. You will notice in the actors’ eyes that they are listening to you and have stopped self-directing. They can now confidently take more risks because they know you won’t sugar-coat them.

Of course this requires diplomacy, and sometimes an argument. Just be honest and constructive, and avoid power games.

Directing Tips

So, let’s assume you have now successfully clicked (and perhaps pissed off) your cast, what methods can you use to direct them?

Film professionals commonly follow methods like ‘Directing Actors,’ a Hollywood staple by Judith Weston. It offers practical techniques for evoking emotion through actors’ imagination, like the ‘as if’ method. Say you want an actor to play anxiety during a scene; instead of mentioning the emotion itself, you say, ‘Do it as if there is a bomb ticking next door’. The actor then focuses on that concrete situation, rather than the emotion itself, which prevents ‘demonstrating’ and create a truthful emotion. It’s a wonderful system, and I use it a lot. My only criticism is that it’s often presented as gospel and filled with a lot of ‘musts’ and ‘shoulds’. But I have seen actors become truly confused with ‘as ifs’ and similar tricks. I once worked with an up-and-coming actress, now a Hollywood star. She was unreadable, and it was early shoot, so I was probing. ‘As ifs’ didn’t seem to click, so I was trying a more ‘arty’ method, talking theatre, characters, letting my enthusiasm flow, talking way too much. I asked her if it confused her which she admitted, so I did what is considered the absolute sin against good directing (According to J. Weston); I told her: ‘More sadness. Faster.’ I saw great relief on her face, she nodded and gave a brilliant performance.

People are different. The director’s goal is to be a good psychologist and figure them out. You are like a musician tuning your instruments before playing them, and tuning a guitar requires a different tool than tuning a piano. Having therefore a kit, with radically different tools, is a healthy approach.

Here are a few more: I briefly mentioned above the ‘arty’ stuff method above. This works well with a minority of cerebral actors. They like highbrow references, to talk characters, myth, novels. It’s more about letting their enthusiasm fly off, rather than the discussion itself to be fair. They seek meaningful work, feeling part of a mission. I would advise to only attempt this you if you know what you’re talking about! Also get ready to suffer the building frustration of your producer as you pontificate about Brecht while getting behind schedule!

Another thing that works well with the non-nonsense actors, is the ‘rating system’. You can say ‘right now, you are 8/10 in terms of energy and emotion, but you can go 10/10’. Comforting for actors, this approach allows for concise direction like ‘This one is a 6,’ which they quickly understand.

A little trick I enjoy using for specific scenes, is to talk throughout the scene, almost like a hypnotist. It doesn’t work on dialogue scenes of course, but, for instance, scenes where someone is supposed to experience powerful changes of emotions and sound doesn’t matter. Not everyone likes this, but when it works, it can bring out fantastic results. Then it’s really like playing a musical instrument. The actor, tuned in, absorbs the words you feed them, reacting live, and somehow if things line up well, your tone, your storytelling, their imagination, you can bring out powerful moments. This method suits ‘as-if’ types better than ‘no-nonsense’ individuals.

Sometimes you find a scene is just stuck. No matter what you do, it simply isn’t working. In that case, it’s best to let actors ignore the script and improvise. There is often a sigh of relief and they start speaking the scene ‘normally’ again—even if it’s nonsense. Though it may require a reshoot, improvisation resets their minds to the present.

If you ever get into a situation where actors get the giggles, give them a 15 minutes break. There is truly no point carrying on, as it will spread to the crew.

I’m missing some minor tips, but remember, your role isn’t to socialize. As a director, you’re often isolated. You will run around, and everyone will treat you like a prince (for this short period lol). Needless to say, that everyone will also think you’re an idiot and that they should be directing instead. This comes with the territory. The three favourite topics of conversation on a shoot are 1/ the food sucks, 2/ production sucks, 3/ the director sucks. It’s not always like this thankfully, I’ve made films where I could taste the crew’s togetherness, but you have to confront people a lot, and accept losing friends. Directing can be lonely.

This by the way, makes the rapport with the actors rather singular. You’ll be too busy for small talk; makeup artists will know the cast far better, gossip included.

Despite not knowing the actors, however, you will share something much more intimate than the makeup artists. You will play them, like a musician plays an instrument. If they let you, that is. There is a paradox in directing: 99% of the time, you must be tough, confident, decisive (with the crew) and for the remaining 1% (with the cast) you become intimate, fragile—honest. This happens right before the takes when everyone is staring and that’s when using your own emotions and vulnerabilities is helpful. Remember: actors are nervous, no matter how long they’ve been around and how well they hide it. This reminds me of a saying attributed to Jean Rochefort, the celebrated French actor, who reportedly advised a young actress boasting about her lack of stage fright, ‘Don’t worry dear, it will come with talent.’

To help actors with nerves, you want to stand in the bubble of vulnerability with them. This creates this vertigo feeling where you must be able to switch from one second to the other from ‘crew mode’ to ‘actors mode’. It’s a bit of Jekyll and Hyde process, and it can sometimes lead camera guys to roll their eyes!

I can’t finish without at least mentioning, one last and sadly genuine risk: that you’d end up working with a saboteur-actor. Some people just like power games. It just happens. I’ve also seen actors who were boozing before coming on set, others falling out while having to do daily scenes together. I’ve seen decent level actors having not learned their lines at all. When disruption occurs, prioritize genuine actors over troublemakers. With them, you must be merciless. They are like bullies, they can smell blood. If you show your frustration, you’ll get pulled into the power games. You need to ignore the barbs, and squeeze them for all you can. Do as many takes as you need, make them swim in the cold water or roll on the floor if the script requires so. No quarters. This is important, first, because it’s your job, and second because the crew will lose respect for you if you don’t.

It was strange for me to write this essay somehow. I have the unpleasant feeling of stating the most obvious things! But maybe it’s because I’ve been around actors most of my life. I’m really wondering whether making this sort of guides would be an interesting read, so leave feedback in the comments. Also, if you have questions about specific situations or anecdotes, I’d love to discuss them.

I will soon write a series of essays about an excruciating experience of mine. A disastrous feature film that I co-directed and which turned out to be a complete car crash. It wasn’t so funny back then… In fact; I was mortified about it, but I think now with hindsight, it might make for an amusing and insightful read.