(Yes, fellow geeks, I’m sure that’s wrong but it was thirty years ago but my copy of the 2nd edition rules has long since disintegrated)
And in the game, as you pore through the 1500+ pages of rules, you find that Charisma is the sad unloved statistic. Everything else helps you memorize spells, inflict damage, dodge arrrows… you know, survive. Charisma? Charisma helps you be charming, and only in a narrow set circumstances. The only character class who needed it was the Paladin, who is sort of a smug, uptight, beautiful holy warrior. (That character class was so insufferable that thousands of players around the country spontaneously created a new class, the “anti-Paladin” as a sort of fun-to-play antagonist: super evil, terribly ugly; a glass of bitters to the Paladin-shaped glass of chocolate milk.)
But on the stage? Here in the “real” world (of theater?)? Charisma is the heart of the performative experience. Here, it is the statistic.
And that’s the power of charisma. The ability to arrest our attention and to draw us in. It’s what we want from the stage: the performer to reach out across the darkness and immerse us in the experience. I really believe it’s the uniqueness of acting as an art form. It’s why I wanted the spaces at the Wit to highlight the immediacy of the room. In a 100 seat house, there is nowhere to hide. No artiface can be sold. Or, at least, no audience will buy it.
And we want to buy it. We want to spend time with Nora Dunn or Kate Black Spence or Linda Reiter or Lance Baker. In pretty much any context. We held our Solo Salon two weeks ago with Lance and Nora to discuss the challenges and rewards of solo performance and it was one of the funnest conversations I’ve ever had about the work. Many thanks to all of you who were able to attend.
But I love auditions. I also fear them, because they always make the play leap in unexpected directions for me. I’m always sure I know what the play will be and then, bang, actors come in and change my mind.
When an actor comes in with a specific, vivid take on the role, and marries that with her native stage charisma? It’s like catnip. It changes my read of the play, because I stop thinking “is this the actor for the role” and start thinking “what does the play mean with this person in it?” Those are the moments I love, when the play starts happening to my imagination.
Plus they’re full of surprises: this time, one of the actors requested to be read for a different part, with another actor opposite reading the role she’d been called in for. From a basic tactical standpoint, this is probably a bad idea. “Read me for someone you don’t see me as and consider this other actress for my role!” But she was right. They were great together. So I’ve added an extra contract for the show and offered them the roles (at the time I’m typing this, we’re waiting to hear if they accept).
Charimsa + chemistry is basically my theater crack. First one’s free!
Jeremy