Call me a grumpy old luvvie, but actors mustn’t ignore our rich dramatic heritage

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/may/01/luvvie-actors-dramatic-heritage-judi-dench

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I remember the occasion as if it were yesterday. I’d been chatting to a top theatrical agent, a woman in her mid-30s who spends her evenings watching plays featuring both her own glittering client list and potential candidates.

During our conversation I mentioned a much-loved actor, once a household name and still regarded as one of the finest of his generation. “I’m so sorry,” she interrupted. “Who’s Michael Hordern?”

Who’s Michael Hordern? Once upon a time an admission such as that would have caused howls of derision in every green room in the country. But times have changed. No one under 30 seems to have heard of anyone over 30 any more.

Well, now Dame Judi Dench (heard of her?) has crystallised the anxiety felt by many of us old stagers by publicly lamenting the lack of knowledge about – or even interest in – our theatrical heritage among young actors. For many, it seems, acting was invented in 2004.

Dame Judi’s sentiments, expressed during a speech to celebrate the unveiling of a blue plaque outside the home of Sir John Gielgud (no, he didn’t play inside right for Arsenal) may seem like the foolish, fond lament of a seasoned pro yearning for the good old days, but they describe a cultural disjunction many older actors have felt for some years.

Time moves on, of course it does; but having a working knowledge of the titans on whose shoulders we stand should still matter. One top theatre director admitted to me recently that he finds it “difficult” to watch black-and-white movies. Fair enough, except you’re missing out on most of Alec Guinness, Robert Donat, Trevor Howard, Celia Johnson et al. Not all younger stars are culpable of course. When current stage star Tom Burke (recently seen in The Deep Blue Sea at the National Theatre) informed me he was celebrating his 30th birthday by staging a private screening of his favourite film and his favourite actor (The Green Man with the incomparable Alastair Sim), I nearly bought a round of drinks. But such enthusiasm for our rich dramatic heritage is an increasing rarity. Yet how can you become a better actor if you don’t study and learn from the greats?

Equally worrying for Dame Judi was the lack of clear enunciation and diction among many of those strutting their stuff. Naturalism is master of all it surveys just now, and with modern plays mirroring the language of our time, the fashion is for short, fractured sentences and jagged exchanges, often mumbled under your breath. Otherwise, it’s presumed, how can it be truthful? But there’s a thin line between realism and incomprehensibility.

I’m currently appearing in Alistair Beaton’s new comedy Fracked!, playing to packed houses on tour from Brighton to Bath. The two leads, James Bolam and Anne Reid (both of whom have been acting for seven decades), deliver their lines with economy, clarity and precision. No single element is sacrificed at the expense of another. Job done.

Of course many young actors possess great technique, range and much else besides; but even then they’re often defeated by theatre layouts. Modern auditoria, designed by folk who know a lot about integrated leisure complexes but far less about acoustics, are often high on chrome and steel but short on plaster and wood, traditional materials that act as a natural sounding board.

Add to that the current fashion for super-realism in TV and films (hands up how many of you turn up the sound or switch on the subtitles), and you see the tide against which we sometimes find ourselves swimming. In any case, good enunciation (“speaking clearly” in old money) still matters, whatever your occupation and whatever your natural dialect. At least, it should do.

Perhaps I’m just a grumpy old luvvie. Perhaps Dame Judi is too. But the art of stage acting is to convey truth and sentiment in that most contrived and artificial of environments, namely a venue in which (possibly) hundreds of people are attempting to read your innermost thoughts, some from as far as 50 metres away. As George Burns famously said: “Acting is all about honesty. If you can fake that, you’ve got it made.”

If you don’t believe him, just ask Michael Hordern.