A Zak Barnett Studios long-time student and enthusiast of all things acting and self-discovery, Ava Marilyn seeks to capture the essence of the studio in her writing through her weekly personal experiences and epiphanies and her findings about the deeper self and others. Through these diary entry-type updates from someone actively studying and working through the industry, she hopes to provide an insider’s look into the studio itself, its practices, and its impact.
I don’t know if it’s just me.
I’d like to think not, but god, I can be so harsh on myself.
I’m self-reflective, maybe to a fault. It’s a quality about myself I adore and somehow also despise.
However, in all the reflection, this usually leads to deep self-analysis, which leads to self-criticism. Critiquing oneself can be a great thing, especially for an actor, but my default seems to derail rapidly and I go to what’s not working or what I don’t like rather than to celebrating what I love and what’s going well.
The Overachiever’s Dilemma
I’ve certainly made improvements over time. Growth is happening and it feels good, but I do need to check myself often. I suppose I am a chronic overachiever; I always have been. Maybe this harshness I spew in my direction is because of that. I am all about excellence. I’ve seen enough “excellent” and experienced some, so I suppose that’s why I expect so much of it for myself. I have a circle of people in my life who’ve arrived at places I want to be. I’m not really jealous, I just use these peoples’ journeys as a litmus test for my own. I’m working on simply letting their process inspire me, rather than remind me of where I’ve supposedly “failed.”
Perfectionism in Performance
Now, apply this to our lives as creatives/actors. It’s a noble endeavor to hold yourself to the standard of excellence. It’s wonderful to allow other artists to inspire you, to inform your creative process, to motivate you to action, but surely you can see how this perfection mentality could lead to enormous defeat and result in colossal damage.
Let’s say we’re looking at a scene from a technical standpoint…
We want to honor the character, and the text as the writer has carefully written it, but we don’t want to be so laser-focused on perfection that we are immobilized when performing, and then so deeply “in our heads” that we can’t freely function within the character. Our work then translates as stiff and unnatural.
If I am too “in my head” as a performer, the piece’s plot will not be as successfully transmitted to the audience. An actor living in self-consciousness and chronic self-judgment cannot develop an authentic, honest performance. If the actor is not fully immersed in the moment how could the audience be? Zak always mentions the famous Sean Penn quote that says something along the lines of the audience often cannot tell when you are lying but they always know when you are telling the truth. This concept plays out perfectly in this idea.
We must be so careful not to judge our own performance.
This will give way for the audience to do the same, which takes them out of the piece’s original intent. No critic in my life is as merciless as myself. I judge everything I do, especially creatively.
One thing to note… Just because I might not feel good about a particular piece of work, this is no indicator that something meaningful isn’t occurring in my performance.
Letting Go of Control
This is what I mean by “alive”… That’s the beauty of the art form, is that we as actors give our best to a performance, and no matter the outcome or how we see ourselves, another set of eyes attached to another soul or history gets to find something in it for themselves.
It would serve us to release control. This might be the most challenging rigor for us as creatives, to simply put our heart to the work, and then let the outcomes go. Even when we are overanalysing, the scene can still be alive and dynamic, useful and inspiring.
Finding Comfort in the Struggle
So, even if I find myself critiquing my work harshly, or I sense that my efforts aren’t landing with the audience, this does not mean the text isn’t being communicated, or that an audience can’t glean something meaningful from my performance or the script.
We speak harshly about ourselves naturally it seems. Even seasoned film stars talk of this struggle… saying they’ve never seen their own films. “I cringe just watching myself,” I’ve heard. And these words come from some of our favorite Oscar-winning actors.
I take comfort in this, as I learn that I’m not alone in the demand of perfection for myself.
So, the next time you catch yourself spiralling into self-doubt, remember:
Your art doesn’t have to be perfect to be powerful. Your truth—flaws and all—is enough.
