Chapter 510: Chapter 509: Observation (3)
“Initially, I had you look at archives, read books and watch movies. That’s one form of observation—immersing yourself directly into their lives and observing from a close distance is another. Of course, observation alone isn’t enough. There are things you need to do yourself, and you also have to learn to do them. For example, yesterday you went to fetch water and operate the stone mill. You felt the sensation of exerting force, right? That’s the experience you need. Once you’ve observed and participated, when the camera captures you, it’s not acting anymore; it’s muscle memory. Acting relies on intuition, but it also requires using your brain.”
“Do you know why your past performances always seemed a bit out of touch? You followed the script and didn’t act poorly. For instance, if the script describes you chatting with someone in the office, with just a brief scene overview. Some fools would just stand there, upright, then with a 360-degree rotation of the camera lens, you would simply talk to the other person. Doesn’t that feel fake? If you were sitting in a swivel chair, holding a mouse in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other while talking, wouldn’t that be stronger than foolishly standing and talking?”
They didn’t come here to play or relax; they came to experience life. Everything is according to the script. If it’s not in the script but they’ve seen it in the archives, they’ll do whatever a ‘sent-down youth’ in the countryside at that time would do.
Even if it’s not written in the script, even if it’s just for one shot, they also need to learn to do it.
“You say you’re a method actor; then, you have to become that person—not just in your mind, but your whole being, from clothing and accessories to behavior and movements. Everything must closely align with that person’s life. When audiences see you, they should feel that you are the living character from the movie, entirely natural, without any sense of disconnect.”
Xia Siyu felt like she’d had an epiphany.
The films she’d acted in before were all pure ‘girly’ films, the modern urban Cinderella Mary Sue types. In those films, as long as she appeared fresh and cute, capable of crying, laughing, and making a fuss, without being too artificial, she generally did well. The only one with some difficulty was in “Storm.” But even then, she played a bar owner who could dance, which was still related to her life, and with Wang Ju’s guidance, it was easy to immerse herself.
Acting-wise, she was decent enough, handling romance dramas without issue, but depth was a challenge. She had always felt as if she’d hit a ceiling, eager to work hard yet unsure of the direction. But Bo Yan, with his blend of theory and practice, had guided her to shatter that ceiling, and she felt as if she’d ascended to another level.
The difference between an ordinary actor and a leading actress lies in these details.
The college classes she had skipped were now being revisited with Bo Yan’s help. But she was different from the student who slept during lectures. If left to her own devices, it might have taken her three, five, or even more years to learn these things. However, Bo Yan’s assistance allowed her to instantly grasp some of the subjects she’d missed.
Indeed, some actors never attended college, yet they had high natural talent and self-motivation, quickly transitioning from box office poison to genius actors. But how many actors like that existed?
Most don’t have talent or the willingness to work hard, deluding themselves into thinking that they could get by on their looks alone.
Yet Xia Siyu still had her doubts, “Then why did you come here with me alone? You didn’t even bring Jingjing or Little Tang.”
Bo Yan smiled, “Because I wanted to spend time alone with you.”