Chapter 35: The Art of Effort
In a small rehearsal room at the Beijing People's Art Theatre, Teacher Feng was conducting the first lesson for his student, Fang Xinghe.
"Xiao Fang, you intend to pursue a career in film and television acting, right?"
Fang Xinghe nodded honestly. "Yes, Teacher Feng. I prefer film and television over stage drama."
"That’s normal. I also enjoy exploring film and television acting." Teacher Feng Yuanzheng was very open-minded, and he soon moved to the heart of the matter. "Then you must understand the fundamental differences between film acting and theatrical acting.
"Theatrical acting takes place on a confined stage, under the gaze of a live audience, where you complete a continuous, uninterrupted performance with fixed partners. There are no retakes, no do-overs; there is only a constant, high-tension focus, relatively more exaggerated body language, and lines that must be delivered with absolute clarity and fullness.
"Film acting, however, takes place in an open, chaotic space, where you provide the most potent fragment possible according to the director's needs. Therefore, film acting allows for shortcuts; if you shoot a scene 100 times and contribute one high-quality take, that’s fine—it’s enough. Why does Wong Kar-wai’s films produce so many best actors and actresses? Because they are ground out. Other directors might want to finish in one take to save film, but he truly aims for over 100 takes.
"Now, back to the point: for an actor, the overall difficulty of theatrical performance is clearly higher. However, at the same time, film acting has higher requirements for micro-expressions, such as the eyes, compared to theatre. The fundamental goals of the two differ, leading to these distinctions.
"And this is exactly why the Stanislavski system neglects the body—in film and television, subtle facial expressions come first. But this leads to a problem: if your training system is incomplete, how can there not be a price to pay? The Stanislavski method can, at most, provide a 90-point answer.
"The Grotowski method is different. We place the highest value on physicality because we believe that only by starting from the body can one unearth the most extreme emotions; pure Stanislavski-style experiential acting cannot achieve this. Why do we succeed where they fail? Come, let’s start warming up, and I will show you why with a practical example."
Fang Xinghe remained silent, silently following the warm-up. Teacher Feng touted the Grotowski method as the best in the world—a natural human tendency—but Fang Xinghe would not believe it blindly; he had his own judgment.
After a series of relaxation exercises to fully awaken his muscles and stretch his joints, Feng Yuanzheng led him through a set of physical movements called "Dolphin Training." The movement itself was not complex: arms extended, walking and circling rhythmically in the classroom. Rotate the shoulders and arms, stretch the elbows back as far as possible, rotate the hands in the opposite direction of the arms, and simultaneously shrug the shoulders upward while striving to elongate the neck. At this point, one must imagine being a dolphin, gradually increasing the rhythm to make the body "stretch" higher bit by bit.
It sounds nonsensical, doesn't it? But if you push the intensity to the limit, draw out the duration, and perform the movements with absolute precision, something miraculous happens. Fang Xinghe followed the instructions, imagining himself as a dolphin cleaving through waves, ready to leap out of the water.
As the intensity of the movement reached its peak, blood surged upward, energy rushed to his head, and it felt as if the rushing sound of seawater was surging in his ears with the movement of his arms. Fatigue, dizziness, trance—his body was overwhelmed. But at a certain moment, as he exerted himself to leap up, he suddenly felt an incomparable sense of freedom, joy, and unbridled release.
Extreme movement truly brought about extreme emotional experience. Body and soul have always been interconnected. Yes, the Dolphin Training wasn't meant to make an actor swim like a dolphin, but to activate the deep emotional experience of "freedom and exhilaration."
Feng Yuanzheng watched Fang Xinghe, who was slightly dazed but still persisting, and smiled with satisfaction. He began to guide the youth's thinking.
"Have you seen *The Shawshank Redemption*? Suppose I am the director, and I need the actor to perform the scene where he finally regains his freedom after long-term imprisonment. The requirement is to release the emotion accurately. If an experiential actor has had the experience of losing freedom—for example, being held and tortured by a pyramid scheme—then fine, they might give a 90-point performance right away. With some polishing, maybe 95.
"But if they have never had such an experience, that’s a problem. How do you act it? 'Director, hold on, let me find a prison and experience it for a few days.' But that experience is bound to be distorted because they haven't truly lost their freedom; they don't know what that feeling of regaining it is really like. The core of 'acting with truth, listening with truth, and feeling with truth' in the Stanislavski method—where does it go? It's gone, right?
"Now, if it were a representational actor, they would start building the character's image in their mind. Who is the character? Why were they imprisoned? What is their personality, their family background, their tone of speech? What should a person with those traits look like when facing this situation? After a lot of manipulation and design, they go up and perform, but it’s overly theatrical. A good representational actor might give an 80-point performance; an average one would struggle to hit 60. It’s formulaic, superficial, and lacks anything that can touch the heart. This is the limitation of pure imitation for representational actors.
"If it were a Method actor, they would definitely substitute a similar emotion. 'I haven't been to prison, but the moment I threw away my books after the college entrance exam, the emotion should be similar. Okay, I'll use that.' So the actor gives a performance of surprise at finally being liberated, carrying a longing for the future, released with great excitement. This isn't a bad way to act, but can the freedom of finishing school really compare to the freedom of being reborn? It’s impossible, right?
"The problem is, if you add any more emotion, it immediately looks exaggerated. If the precision isn't there, trying to make up for it with quantity simply doesn't work. So, you see, when faced with very specific performance requirements, most people cannot act well. But if you are called to the stage, and you persist every day in the highest intensity of Dolphin Training and Flight Training, you don't need to 'act'—just find that emotion from that moment, lift your head, look at the lens, and that is enough."
*Holy cow, that’s incredible!* Fang Xinghe understood, and because he understood, he was stunned. Both Grotowski and Stanislavski emphasized "starting from experience," but the Grotowski school was more extreme, using the principle of "body and emotion being connected" to excavate all kinds of emotions. Therefore, it was more real, more cruel, more devout, and more aggressive.
Fang Xinghe finally understood why Feng Yuanzheng could play An Jiahe so pathologically—the relevant training included specific parts for excavating "primitive bestiality." It wasn't a simple form of cruelty, but a more naked animalism—the most primal, the most profound, the most candid. Fang Xinghe was finally convinced that the Grotowski method was born for special emotions. You have to realize that not every performance system has concrete actor training methods; the Stanislavski system has them, the Method has them, but neither of them is as extreme as the Grotowski school.
Well, to put it simply: the Grotowski school is exceptionally good at playing psychos. Because Grotowski actors are also damn crazy when it comes to themselves...
That day, Fang Xinghe's training lasted for a full eight hours. Excluding meal and rest times, he spent almost the entire time performing various high-intensity movements. After Teacher Feng let him go home, he was so tired he didn't want to move a muscle.
Yet, past 9:00 PM, the youth still struggled to climb out of bed and write a reflection.
"The basic skills of an actor—voice, stage presence, body, and expression—are essentially all about liberating the body to achieve self-control. Control is the power that runs through an actor's entire life and is the foundation of all presentation. Performing in daily life is something without a threshold; however, true and vivid film and theatrical acting is an art that requires extreme talent and extreme persistence. Controlling tear ducts, controlling the eyes, controlling facial muscles—achieving all this is only the beginning; there are many more hurdles ahead.
"The good news is that the Grotowski method has a very high ceiling and can help overcome all obstacles. The bad news is that it is truly arduous; extreme grinding brings extreme exhaustion and pain. It was like this today, and it will be like this every day hereafter. What’s even harder is that no one can tell me how long I must persist before I see the light of day and truly climb that peak of art.
"But I do not fear. I will work hard and burn myself with everything I have."
Setting his pen down, Fang Xinghe immediately added 10 experience points to the [Grotowski Actor Training Method] on his interface. Closing his eyes, he felt a wealth of realization flood his mind.
Hmm, hard work also requires technique—I wonder if you guys understand that...