A Love Letter to Actors

Actors have to be some of the luckiest people on the planet for the sole reason that they get to profit from curiosity and the element of play.

I had the privilege of time last week, and with that, I took it upon myself to see two new movies in theaters, and as I was walking out to my car both times, I was filled with a mysterious combination of appreciation and envy for the people I had just watched on screen and their counterparts. Putting plot aside, as each film came to a finish, I found myself gaping at how fucking lucky these people must be to get to do this and call it their career. I couldn’t have had two wildly different theatrical experiences, and yet one universal feeling lingered afterwards; that is what I love about cinema.

Last Tuesday, I finally went to see Yorgos Lanthimos’ latest, highly anticipated film, Bugonia. Two conspiracy-obsessed men kidnap the CEO of a major company when they become convinced that she’s an alien who wants to destroy Earth, starring Emma Stone, Jesse Plemons, and Aiden Delbis. The next day, I went back to the theater to see Jennifer Lawrence and Robert Pattinson in Lynne Ramsay’s Die My Love. A young mother and writer slowly descends into madness following the birth of her son, locked in a house in Montana, her change in behavior leaves her husband worried and helpless.

Each of these films was incredibly written, stylized, and evocative in its own right, but what stood out to me, aside from the performances and mise en scène, was the fact that people actually got to do this for work; play these characters, dress in these costumes, and live someone else’s life for a brief period of time. I have always been drawn to the lives of artists, especially actors, because of their unconventional lifestyles and privileges, but, for the most part, I am intrigued and envious of their ability to play and learn about themselves and the world through creative expression through the lens of others.

I watch movies to escape my own reality for an hour or three, depending on the film. I have always been drawn to others’ lives, experiences, stories, and perspectives. I have been lucky enough to work on a handful of sets and even have a line or two in a project, but nothing on earth excites me more than the thought of playing a leading or supporting role in a film and being someone else. Working on a film, giving blood, sweat, and tears, for the public to fall in love with or tear to shreds in the name of artistic expression. To transform completely into a character to support someone else’s vision or idea for a story. It takes a very specific type of empathy and compassion to step into someone else’s shoes and give them a life of their own, with your heart and soul, without allowing your experiences to influence you or alter the nature of that character.

Cinema is an art form that affords us the privilege of tasting life twice, bitter, sweet, or both. Regardless of what you watch, or why, no matter how different the plot is from your own life, we as viewers find something to hold onto that we relate to: a character, a setting, a scene, a line of dialogue. In Bugonia, I held onto the fear of the unknown, what exists beyond our own reality, and how that fear of an “other” hinders you from enjoying what surrounds you, along with placing power in that “other” to justify our lives. In Die My Love, I also held onto fear, a different kind of fear involving relationships and love; choosing a family of your own and the idea of choosing wrong, or if it’s even a choice at all.

I had an acting teacher who emphasized the importance of play and integrating that into our lives as adults. My envy and admiration for actors stem from that desire to play pretend and use that tool to help us understand ourselves a little better. Connecting and collaborating with a crew of artists for the purpose of producing something to share with the world, a film, a show, a body of work, a story. Movies are meant to make you feel. I think people forget that when they critique art for not being up to their own standards. All films are worth seeing, stories worth hearing; beyond that, it’s up to you to decide what moves you and in which ways.

Every time I leave a theater, a show, close my laptop, or turn off my TV, I am lucky to have tasted life twice, even if I didn’t enjoy the flavor I was still fed. If any actors happen to find themselves reading this, I hope you know just how fucking lucky you are to get to do this and call it your career. To taste life twice and serve that up to us, the people who watch and the people who dream of joining you there someday.

Cin Cin,

Paige B.