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Character Movement Work

Acting toolbox Character Movement Work

How big is your character’s personal bubble?

personal bubble

Before Covid, were you aware of your proximity to others at all times? 

I certainly wasn’t. Not at all times, at least. 

Though I’d like to believe I was pretty aware back then. But, even more so now. 

We’re basically three years into the pandemic, and social distancing has reminded me how vital space is as a quality of movement. 

Not only is space important in our daily lives, but that space is something all actors can utilize to great effect. 

What first comes to mind is it’s a fantastic way to display lots of character qualities without saying a word. 

For example, a bombastic character who’s the life of the party may invade others space more, vs. someone who struggles with social settings might maintain more space between them and others. 

There was a game we played in my acting conservatory: 

We’d pair up, and wander around the room, focused on keeping the same amount of distance between our partner and us. 

It’s more challenging than it sounds, especially when multiple pairs are operating in the same space. 

A way to up the challenge was to incorporate motivations. So, one of the pair’s motivations was to get close to the other. The other’s motivation was to stay away from the first. 

Probably goes without saying that chaos, running, tripping over each other, and much laughter always ensued. 

So, how can using space and an exercise like this be useful for actors?

Utilizing space to build personality

There are many ways you can utilize space to add layers to a character’s personality. 

“Have you ever been somewhere, and an object makes you back up and increases your distance from it? Think of a time when you were at a haunted house and saw something scary. You increase your personal space and move backwards rather quickly to avoid being too close to the scary object.” 

In some cases, using space could be a core movement signature quality to show a character’s growth. 

Perhaps their story is one of adventure and stepping out of their comfort zone. They start off more tentative in space and take up space that shifts as they become more comfortable.

On the other end of the spectrum, maybe their story is that of loss and abandonment. Where space could grow more and more claustrophobic.

Either way, wherever your character may fall on the spectrum of space, it can be a valuable tool to create consistency. 

But, crafting relationships is where space really comes into play. 

Using space to build relationships

“Spacial qualities are indications of our relationship to each other.” Barbara Sellers-Young Breathing, Movement, Exploration

Think of the people closest to you in your life and that you like having them around. 

Then, it could be said that you’re pretty comfortable having them in your personal space bubble. Hugs and such, ya know? 

Your personal space bubble will be different than for people you see (this is pre-Covid, mind you) at the grocery store.

Thinking about your character’s relationships with others from the framework of personal bubbles can help you show tension, or familiarity, and even the development of that relationship. 

What do you think about the two pictures below?

space and relationships
space and relationships

How does the space, or lack of space between the people, help tell their story, their relationship?

Invaders or allies of personal space bubbles?

So, let’s get a little more practical and ask some questions. 

Mainly, is your character an invader of personal space bubbles or respectful of bubble boundaries? 

Maybe they’re both, depending on the relationship/situation?

Here’s some more questions you can ask yourself when delving into character work. 

  • Do they invade the space of others intentionally? 
  • Do they lack spatial awareness?
  • Do they have a tiny personal space bubble?
  • Do they use space to avoid others?
  • Does their bubble change as their journey evolves?
  • Does this character’s culture influence their personal space bubble?
  • What is this character’s relationship to space? Do they like their environment cluttered or spacious?

What are some other questions about space that come to mind?

Let space help you

Working with space can open up a lot of new ways of discovering your character. 

It can become a vital part of character development by asking yourself some of the questions listed above and seeing what happens. 

It’s also work that can be done in rehearsals with fellow actors. Especially if you’re focusing on space between relationships. 

Your character is constantly navigating through space, as are we all. 

So, what is your character’s relationship to space?

Happy moving!

Acting toolbox Character Movement Work

Can lizards give you advice on character movement work?

lizard character movement

Animals aid character movement work

Have you ever observed someone and thought: 

“That person kinda bobs their head when they walk, kinda like a chicken.”

Or:

“That dog is always so focused on something…kinda reminds me of my friend Ryan.”

People-watching is often a pastime recommended for actors. It helps to flush out your character repertoire, and some of my favorite characters I’ve ever played were designed after people I saw at the mall.

Just as important as people watching, animal watching is an incredible outlet for actors.

So, what is animal work exactly?

“Largely pioneered by acting teacher Maria Ouspenskaya, this training technique involves studying and emulating the physicality and characteristics of wildlife, from the way they walk or remain still to their vocalizations.”

How do you use animal work to create unique character movement signatures?

Can lizards give you advice on character movement work?

Yes, yes, they can. 

The same process applies

It doesn’t matter where your inspiration comes from for character movement work and developing a unique movement signature.

We’re actors. We play in an open sandbox. 

Use your imagination.

You can apply questions such as, “Where does this character lead from?” to any animal.

Where does this snow leopard lead from?

character movement

How bout this blue jay?

And the shark?

What qualities differentiate the blue jay from the shark?

The blue jay moves its head quickly and sharply, whereas a shark’s head is a slow and steady movement. 

From a Labanotation perspective, I’d say the blue jay is more sudden while the shark is sustained. 

If you’re not familiar with Labanotation and how this dance notation system can be an incredible tool for actors to develop physically diverse characters, check out my intro post here

What I’ve learned from lizards

When developing a character, I often think about what a good animal counterpart might be.

Let’s talk lizards.

For the record, I just think lizards are cool. I’m in no way an expert. 

What are some key characteristics?

Firstly, lizards have tails. 

They eat bugs, have short necks, and can go from still to scurrying across rocks quicker than sometimes our eyes can catch. 

Lizards have always come across to me as being rather cunning and calculating. 

They’ve got these sharp, detail-oriented eyes and can laser focus on their prey before striking with incredible speed. 

Always plotting, not necessarily in an evil kind of way, just always thinking. 

If anything, the lizard comes up for me as a great teacher when developing a character who struggles with anxiety. They have a calm, cool exterior and can appear as those they’re frozen in space. Then suddenly dashing off for cover. To me, it’s a great mirror of a human going through the motions of the fight, flight, or freeze response. 

That being said, I, of course, think the cunning lizard could be modeled to a more antagonistic character.

This, of course, this kind of play, is all up to you, the actor. 

Go as extreme or subtle as you like. Perhaps you’re playing the actual animal itself. 

Oh, and here’s some other cool facts about lizards from Live Science.

Cos lizards are cool. 

Where to find other great animal examples 

There’s countless places to expand your animal observing repertoire. 

One place that, although controversial, can be a good resource is zoos. 

I personally only go to zoos or organizations that commit to protection, restoration, and rehabilitation. Or for animals that can not safely be released back into the wild. 

Places such as the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance or Monterey Bay Aquarium.

If you don’t have access to zoos or choose not to support them, the best resource is easily the internet. 

Youtube alone, you could spend thousands of hours watching animal videos. 

Seriously, I typed in red pandas into the search bar and got hundreds of results. Namely, this gem:

Documentaries such as Planet Earth are also excellent sources. 

My favorite way to observe animals is to visit local nature preserves and the birds outside my window. 

One other interesting thought…

Animals provide not only an endless source of entertainment but can be incredible allies in helping us as actors discover our characters.

I’ll share something else that I sometimes incorporate into character movement work.

Observing all aspects of nature. 

Such as how a river runs over rocks or leaves falling in the wind. 

Rocks are great in showing stillness. 

Happy moving!

Character Movement Work Labanotation

Character movement in Expressionism in all its raw beauty

Expressionism

While flipping through my movie collection the other day (I didn’t feel like being overwhelmed by the paralysis of choice that is streaming options these days), I stumbled across a film I’d forgotten I owned.

Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari (The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari).

Ah yes, the ultimate German Expressionism experience. 

It’s the story of an evil hypnotist who uses his skills to direct a sleepwalker (or somnambulist) named Cesare to commit murder.

Fun stuff.

Released in 1920, it’s a silent gothic horror film delight.

Now, Expressionism is easily one of my favorite movements in the history of theatre and film.

Especially for character movement work. 

The gothic, distorted, exaggerated movements the actors employ to release their emotions through the screen or beyond the stage have always struck a chord with me. 

Perhaps because a great deal of the time, we’re taught not to express our emotions in society. That it’s impolite. Don’t be a Drama Queen, right?

And art mirrors society.

So, the balance of portraying a character that works really hard to keep their emotional dams up until the levee breaks is more common these days.

Therefore, Expressionist performances can at first glance seem overly emotional. 

But, they simply embrace the extremes. The highs and lows of human emotion. 

And, hey, the dark eyeliner is always a plus.

So, what is Expressionism exactly?

Glad you asked. 

Expressionist art was a modernist movement originating in the early 20th century in Northern Europe.

The dictionary describes Expressionism as “a theory or practice in art of seeking to depict the subjective emotions and responses that objects and events arouse in the artist.” 

To put it simply, it’s art designed to express intense emotions and meanings behind them, rather than focusing on reality. 

Think Edvard Munch’s painting The Scream

This is probably my favorite definition of Expressionism relating to the film and theatre world: “It was not that different from Symbolism but with darker lighting, more screaming and way more emotion.” 

So, for film and theatre, elements such as scenery, costumes, and makeup were used to distort and exaggerate (often with odd angles and heavy shadows) to deliver these emotions and ideas.

Basically, if you’ve seen anything Tim Burton has ever produced, you’ve seen Expressionism. 

Other art forms, specifically in paintings, may include odd shapes and vibrant colors that wouldn’t usually appear. 

Such as Rehe Im Walde (Deer in the Woods) by Franz Marc in 1911.

But film and theatre are the focus for this post and what that means for character movement work.

So, let’s take a look at the film.

Now, for me, the best examples of Expressionism in film come from Germany.

German Expressionism in film

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror, and Metropolis are three pinnacle films released during the 1920s in Germany that immediately come to mind when I think of German Expressionism. 

Two horror and one sci-fi, these three films include countless incredible character movement performances.  

Seriously, I could probably write an entire book about it.

But, this is not a book.

We’re just here to get our feet wet.

To many, this performance style may come across as ridiculous, overly emotional, over the top, chewing the scenery…you get the idea. 

And that’s precisely why I think it’s so beautiful.

A quick note: I’ll be referring to some of these performances using Labanotation. 

Labanotation is a dance notation system created by Rudolf Laban that is often used by actors to create distinct movement signatures.

If you’re not familiar with the work of Rudolf Laban or Labanotation, check out my intro post to get acquainted with this excellent building-block method for creating physically diverse characters.

Dr. Caligari

As mentioned earlier, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is about a hypnotist who uses his skills to influence a sleepwalker to commit murder. 

The sleepwalker is a man named Cesare. 

The film is available to watch on youtube if you haven’t seen it.

Now, Dr. Caligari and Cesare each have incredibly distinctive ways of moving. 

But for me, what’s most impressive is their facial movement work.

The hunched, slow stepping, top hat, and cane bearing Dr. Caligari is always plotting, and you can see it in his eyes. The often slow, at times sudden shifts in his eyebrows, eyes, and lips tell a story.

You can almost hear the gears turning in his mind as he continues his calculating control. 

This is, of course, accentuated by his makeup.

Then there’s Cesare’s facial movement work. When he first wakes, it’s definitely ‘how wide you can get your eyes’ goals. Which leaves us with this iconic image. 

It’s also simply a beautiful moment of awakening into a new state of conciousness. 

Or when he stalks into Janes room, stepping lightly, leading with his toes, one foot in front of the other almost as though he’s walking a tightrope. A methodical hesitancy as he sleepwalks forward, knife drawn.

Lil Dagover’s performance as Jane is a fantastic example of the extremes of Expressionism. 

In receiving the news that a friend, Alan, has been murdered, her juxtaposed movements of sustained and sudden are jarring and add to the distorted elements of the film.

Nosferatu

Count Orlok or Nosferatu was based on Bram Stokers Dracula. Also known as “The Bird of Death,” he’s a vampire residing in Transylvania. 

Now, the film was never granted the rights to Dracula itself, and it was technically a film that was illegally made.

It’s also available to watch on youtube.

They changed Dracula, Harker, and Mina to Count Orlock, Hutter, and Ellen.

Now, Count Orlok, originally portrayed by Max Schreck, is simply perfect nightmare fuel. 

Seriously, his hand work alone is phenomenal. Those long, slow, and steadily closing in to grasp you fingers always send chills down my spine.

If I were to break down Count Orlok’s movement signature, I’d say he was bound, sustained, and direct. 

There’s a gravitas to him even though he’s light on his feet. Especially when he’s carrying his coffin around England in the middle of the night. Just casual like…

Though, I have to say one of my favorite movement moments in the entire film is when Hutter discovers Count Orlok’s vampiric secret and collapses in horror on the stairs. 

How he then slinks his way quickly up the stairs is a sight to behold. By use of fancy footwork and grasping hands, he manages to crawl up the stairs sideways with his back to the wall. 

It appears as though his limbs are the only things moving. 

Metropolis

The character movement work in Metropolis is German Expressionism on a grand scale. 

Metropolis is a sci-fi drama that premiered in 1927 and focuses on the efforts of Freder, the son of the wealthy master of the city, and Maria, a spokeswoman for the working class. 

The goal: to lessen the gap between classes. 

It’s a dystopian masterpiece and speaks volumes still today.

You can see it on youtube.

The depiction of humans as machines working within larger industrial machinery is a huge focal point of the film. It’s an image we get a glimpse of right at the beginning. 

It’s the shift change between workers at the factory. Their movements are subtle, drone-like, and exhausted. 

Even the workers who are just beginning their shift are tired, slowly and mechanically shifting one foot in front of the other in time with the group.

The mechanical, rigid coordination of the workers while they’re at their machines, is incredibly impressive as well. 

However, the performance that stands out the most for me is that of Brigitte Helm. She plays Maria, the woman who brings hope to the workers. 

Maria is kidnapped by a scientist working for the city master and transfers her image to a robot (also played by Brigitte) to cause chaos among the workers. 

The robot’s behavior is the opposite of Maria’s, and it’s a delight to see the transformation Brigitte undergoes to bring us both Marias. 

I delve a bit more into her performance here.

Experiencing emotion through story

Most of us, I’d argue, are taught from a young age to stifle our emotions in one way or another. To not take things too seriously. To not be ‘melodramatic.’ 

Expressionism, from a character movement perspective, is all about exaggerated emotions. But are they really THAT exaggerated?

The arts exist to help us express emotion.

To experience emotion through a story.

And Expressionism, German or otherwise, for me, is a style to not forget.

Now, this is simply scratching the surface of German expressionist film, and I’m in no way an expert in Expressionism. 

I didn’t even touch on Expressionism in theatre. That’ll be a post for another day.

Expressionist movement performances, in all of their over-the-top glory (to our societal standards, mind you), create a space for the expression of emotion through motion. 

It can be both uncomfortable and cathartic. 

Often at the same time.

Which is precisely the point.

I’ll leave you with a quote from the delightful YouTube channel: Cinefix regarding Expressionism: “The goal was to make the inner-outer, to render the invisible visible by throwing it on screen.”

Happy moving! 

Character Movement Work Character study Labanotation Stories

Moving like a Victorian ghost: The Woman in Black

woman in black ghost

I know that it’s officially November, and a good chunk of society is quickly sliding into the swing of Christmas. 

Not here.

Not on my watch.

(No offense intended if you’re reading this and love Christmas. You do you 🙂 )

 I’ve got one last spooky character for you. 

At least for now.

(Side note, if you’re interested in spooky character movement studies, check out some of my recent posts where I delve into films such as Hocus Pocus and Alien.)

See, around Halloween (and most of the winter, if I’m honest), I reflect on one of my most memorable opening nights. 

It was 2012, and I was a part of a group of delightful people in Davis, CA, called Common House productions. 

This was the year we put on a production of The Woman in Black

It’s a Victorian ghost story. 

Very gothic.

A haunted house on the moors, kind of ghost story.

Kinda like this…

woman in black

But more foggy and dark.

It’s the story of a young lawyer sent to a remote English village to settle the estate of a recently deceased elderly and reclusive client. 

In his travels, he encounters a ghost named by the villagers as The Woman in Black.

As the story unfolds, he discovers a terrifying mystery and a woman’s loss so great, it seeped deeply into the very bones of the community.

So, a ghost that is terrifying an entire village, that never speaks, and only exists as a haunting afterthought, roaming the space at a slow and steady, spooky pace?

Challenge accepted.

So, this is how I used character movement work to scare the s*it out of our audiences and added my name to the long list of performers to have played a spooky specter.

The Woman in Black

To delve a bit deeper, for the sake of context, The Woman in Black is originally a book by English author Susan Hill, published in 1983.

Soon after, it was adapted into a stage play by Stephen Mallatratt in 1987. To this day, it remains one of the longest shows running in the West End, in London. 

You may have seen it cross the screen in 2012, in the film adaptation starring Daniel Radcliff. 

Now, of course, each adaptation is a bit different from the other, but I enjoy all of them independently.

Not talking about the sequel film, though. Nope, that one I can’t get behind.

The play, which is a play within a play, centers around Arthur Kipps, the lawyer.

An older Kipps is reading his dramatized accounts of his time in the remote village in Crythin Gifford. This is when he was younger, and where he came across The Woman in Black.

He hires a young actor to help him act out this story.

And the rest, well, I won’t spoil anything. I should probably get a move on and share my character movement signature, right?

But, if you’d like to know more, check out the BBC’s Bitesize series that gives a detailed summary.

A ghosts movement signature

For this specters movement signature, I used the tools of Labanotation, which is the dance notation work created by the great Rudolf Laban.

Now, if you’re not familiar with the work of Rudolf Laban or Labanotation, check out my intro post. It’ll help you get acquainted with this excellent building-block method for creating physically diverse characters.

There were two essential parts in my movement signature: sustained and bound. 

This is a ghost who is, in many ways is a moving part of the scenery. With very few lines (and only from the perspective of a letter written years before), the majority of what I had to work with was presence. 

One of the key Laban building blocks I used for my movement signature is sustained.

Sustained, meaning movements that have a longer acceleration and, therefore and longer deceleration. 

Movements that were fluid and gliding were vital for this character. Often moving so slowly that the focus would be on the other characters on stage that I’d be in a different spot when an audience member turned to look at me. 

Next on the building block list is bound.

Now, to appear as I was always moving ever so slowly meant I had to utilize the strength of my legs.

I used bound to ground the lower half of my body. By engaging the muscles in my legs (since I was wearing a long dress with a lot of layers,) I could balance on one leg, keeping it bound, as I slowly moved the other to step forwards. 

Combining these two, I could then explore other building blocks and move directly or indirectly, lightly or heavier, whenever the scene and direction required. 

Though I will say, being hyperfocused on my movements, led to an exhausting performance. But well worth it.

woman in black
Me as The Woman in Black: Common House Productions 2012

Opening night

So, it’s probably obvious why I think of this show around Halloween, being a ghost story and all.

But, there’s more to this story.

See, we’d built a stage in one of our director’s backyards and opened on Halloween itself.

And the most brilliant thing about it? 

About thirty minutes before we started the show, it began to rain. 

The ground, having been covered in leaves earlier in the day because ya know…autumn…were now wet and therefore silent to walk upon. 

I can attest, while playing a ghost, nothing quite beats sneaking up on a gaggle of frat boys in the audience. Hearing them s*it themselves as I silently snaked up the aisle to the stage. 

Their screams still make me smile. 

Character Movement Work Character study Labanotation

The unparalleled movements of the Sanderson sisters

Sanderson sisters

This week I wanted to look at a spooky classic. 

Something goofy, full of vibrant colors and witches. 

Three witches, to be exact.

In anticipation of the sequel (even though it’s a year away minimum), I wanted to dive into the world of the Sanderson Sisters from 1993s Hocus Pocus.

Winnifred, Mary, and Sarah. 

Played by Bette Midler, Kathy Najimy, and Sarah Jessica Parker, respectively.

Nearly 30 years after its release, Hocus Pocus just keeps gaining traction and a following that simply won’t stop. 

Which is well deserved indeed. 

It’s easy to spot how much fun they had with these roles, and each sister displays a different movement signature which only adds to their unique characters. 

Real quick: for last week’s spooky character movement study, check out The Man Inside the Xenomorph.

If you want more character movement studies that are also rather spoopy, check these out: NBC Hannibals Red Dragon, Angelica Huston’s Morticia Addams, The Descendants Crawlers, Taika Waititi’s Viago, and Train to Busan’s zombies.

For many, I think it’s safe to say that Hocus Pocus is a staple film to watch every year. 

I mean, what more could you want? 

Three witchy sisters, searching for children to complete their potion for youth and the kids who thwart them at every turn?

Absolutely brilliant.

So, here’s my thoughts on how I would break down the movements of each of the Sanderson sisters. 

Cos I can’t choose just one.

That’d be rude.

Also, quick shout out to Doug Jones, who plays Billy Butcherson the zombie. His character movement performance is incredible.

Witchy movements

Now, as I’ve no way of knowing if these three ladies used Labanotation when developing the sisters or not, this character movement study is me exploring how I would break down each of their movements from my background. 

If you’re not familiar with the work of Rudolf Laban or Labanotation, check out my intro post to get acquainted with this excellent building-block method for creating physically diverse characters. 

It’s my go-to for creating character movement signatures and is a handy tool for quick shifts in movement for auditions

One thing that pertains to all three sisters that I found delightful was from a post from Insider:

“According to an archived press release, the film’s choreographer, Peggy Holmes, said each of the Sanderson sisters flew their brooms ‘in character.’

Holmes said, ‘Winifred is in charge and much more aggressive than the other two. She’s always leading the way and looking for children. Sarah loves to fly. She’s always lifting up with her mop and can’t wait to get up in the air, whereas Mary is more cautious. Like a good driver, she signals with her hand. Mary is the safe and steady flier,’ she added.”

Here’s the link to the press release article.

This alone really speaks to their characters. 

Winnifred is driven, Mary is cautious, and Sarah is carefree.

So, how else do they embody these characteristics physically?

There are two methods I want to look at for each performance. Firstly, where are they leading from? (What is the first part of their body to move), and secondly, their baseline movement signature. 

Winnifred Sanderson

Winnifred, or Winnie, is aggressive and takes her leadership very seriously. 

I would say that her leading point is her hands. 

It’s incredible, really, to see how much she uses them and how her gestures then trickle all the way down through the rest of her body.

Her movements are incredibly direct, sudden, and bound.

The focus she exudes is razor-sharp, and I often find myself watching her eyes to see when she blinks. 

What adds to her spooky attitude is how suddenly she moves. Her movements have acceleration to them, and they’re over quickly. 

Such as when she’s tossing Max around when they first meet with her powers. It’s almost a swish and flick thing, with more of an emphasis on the flick.

Mary Sanderson

Mary is cautious, takes her cues from Winnie, and loves sniffing out children.

Her lead point, I’d say, is her nose. As she’s always sniffing out for children. She tends to lean forwards as she walks with her nose guiding the rest of her body. 

Her movements are more sustained in nature vs. Winnie’s, and her center of gravity is lower. Therefore she operates more heavy and grounded vs. light and bouncy, like Sarah.

I would also add that her relationship with space is somewhere between direct and indirect.

She’s not as indirect as Sarah, and in no way is she as direct as Winnie. However, she has moments where she employed one then the other, and sniffing out children is an excellent example of this.

When using her nose to catch a child, she starts out indirectly, getting a general sense of the direction. However, once she’s picked up on the scent, her focus narrows and directly goes for the kill.

Sarah Sanderson

Sarah is bouncy, loves boys and flying. 

Her lead point is without question her chest, as it sticks out and arches her forward wherever she moves. 

Sarah is incredibly indirect and distractable. Her focus is often hazy, and unless otherwise directed, when she’s going somewhere, she moves in such a way where she’ll get there eventually.

At the beginning of the film, she doesn’t take the direct path to the wall of ingredients. Instead, she dances around the cauldron, weaving her way in and out of the space, twirling as she goes. 

Her movements are free-flowing and light, often appearing on her tiptoes. It also takes multiple tries to get her to stop moving. Whether it’s by Winnie’s glare or by physical force.

I suggest we form a calming circle.”

When they get together, the Sanderson sisters create a cornucopia of movement that is a delight to watch.

They each have their own distinct movement signatures but come together to unite seamlessly. 

The hunched stride they use to move about the streets during trick or treating is a great moment where their styles merge together as they work together. 

So, have you watched Hocus Pocus yet this year?

Is it a staple for you, or is it new to your spooky repertoire?

Either way, go forth and run amok!

Amok, amok, amok! 

Character Movement Work Character study Labanotation

The man inside the Xenomorph

Xenomorph

Continuing the spooky season this week, I wanted to look at one of my favorite performances, the original alien or Xenomorph from Ridley Scott’s 1979 classic, Alien.

After landing in theaters only two years after Star Wars: A New Hope, the Alien franchise continues to grow, diving deeper into the mythology, and expanding the universe and fandom. 

But for me, nothing beats the original creature that burst from Kane’s (John Hurt’s) chest, giving birth to a new type of sci-fi horror. 

Real quick: for last week’s spooky character movement study, check out How Bone-Breaking Gave Us a New Zombie.

If you want more character movement studies that are also rather spoopy, check these out: NBC Hannibals Red Dragon, Angelica Huston’s Morticia, The Descendants Crawlers, and Taika Waititi’s Viago.

Now, onto the man inside the Xenomorph.

Alien 

For Ridley Scott, director of Alien, he wanted something particular for his alien. Something that the world had never seen before. 

He got his wish. 

But it wasn’t easy.

The alien itself may only appear in the film for a fraction of the run time, but the threat of it possibly being right around the next corner or on the other side of the duct door is simply the best nightmare fuel.

Scott brought Swiss artist H.R. Giger to create the beautifully grotesque Xenomorph. Giger also had a hand in every other aspect of production design. 

If you’re not familiar with Giger’s work and you love the look of Alien, check him out.

Giger’s macabre, surreal style brings a biologically industrial look to the Xenomorph. 

“I always wanted my alien to be a very beautiful thing, something aesthetic. A monster isn’t just something disgusting; it can have a kind of beauty.”

So, Ridley Scott had the look down. Now they just needed an actor to slip into the complex and awkward latex suit that had been constructed. 

Which turned out to be a rather complex casting process.

They needed someone of imposing appearance, tall, slender, and could move in an in-human-ish way. 

They auditioned mimes, contortionists, basketball players, and even Star Wars’ Chewbacca, the late great Peter Mayhew, but no one quite brought what they were searching for. 

Enter Bolaji Badejo.

Bolaji Badejo story

Bolaji Badejo, born in Nigeria, was only 26yrs old when he donned the Xenomorph suit. 

He was living in London at the time and going to school for graphic design when he walked into a pub at the right time.

Agent Peter Archer, who was working on the Alien project, spotted him immediately. 

After all, being 6′ 10″ and incredibly lean, Badejo was relatively easy to spot.

Archer convinced Badejo to come in and audition for the role, and he quickly became Scott’s choice to bring the creature to life. 

The suit itself

Giger, once Badejo was cast, remolded the suit to fit him perfectly. “I will have a new cast made from the chest down.” he wrote. “I think he’s our man.”

Now, performers who work in suits or complex makeup often have a lot of challenges ahead of them. Long days and often sweltering conditions. Badejo initially couldn’t sit down because of the tail, so they made a swing for him.

Which honestly sounds downright adorable to me.

Oh, and he could barely see out of it. 

“The Nostromo set itself was only about 6’6 high. I’m 6’10, 7′ with the suit on. I had to be very careful how I spun around or did anything. It was terribly hot, especially the head. I could only have it on for about fifteen or twenty minutes at a time. When I took it off, my head would be soaked.”

So, we’ve got an actor, working under intense conditions, having to perform a creature who’s now known for its sneaky, slow movements. 

Easy, right?

Breaking down movements

“The idea was that the creature was supposed to be graceful as well as vicious, requiring slow, deliberate movements. But there was some action I had to do pretty quick.”  Badejo stated in an interview in the magazine Cinefantastique. 

So, how would we break down the xenomorph’s movements by way of Labanotation?

(For the record, I haven’t found any info that Badejo used Labanotation in his movement, but this is how I would break his work down using this system.)

If you’re not familiar with the work of Rudolf Laban or Labanotation, check out my intro post to get acquainted with this excellent building-block method for creating physically diverse characters. 

It’s my go-to for creating character movement signatures and is a handy tool for quick shifts in movement for auditions.

Xenomorph movement signature

My movement signature interpretation for the Xenomorph is a baseline of sustained, direct, and bound. 

There’s a gracefulness to how it moves. Its body is constantly in motion, regardless of how slow. 

Now, a sustained movement has a longer acceleration and deceleration, as though some part of the body is always moving at any given time.

Sustained is not often combined with bound, because in some ways, they work against each other. 

Bound meaning that there is some sort of force inhibiting the movement. 

As an example, I often employ bound when playing a character who carries a lot of physical tension in their bodies. 

Think of how your body may feel after standing up, having been seated for a long time. Your body is stiff, right? Perhaps some joints are a bit locked, or some muscles are more challenging to move. 

Or, if you’re walking into a windy day, you would have to brace your legs more, grounding them, to be sure to not get knocked down. 

These are all examples of bound.

Being as tall as it is, as Badejo stated, 6’ 10, 7’, the xenomorph is often in some sort of crouched, hunched, or squatting position. Perhaps curled up in small spaces to keep warm. 

So, uncurling or standing up, while its lower body is bound and grounded, using its strength to move slowly and seamlessly, is quite a feat. 

As a preditor on the hunt, it only seems right to add direct to its movement signature. Once it sets its eyes on you, you’re in its sights, and it’s (usually) game over. 

All of these building blocks of movement, sustained, bound, and direct, dovetail together beautifully. 

The Xenomorph’s ability to move so slowly and deliberately, where you know it can spring forward suddenly is a terrifying concoction. 

Other movement qualities

What we do know is that once Badejo was cast, he began mime lessons. One source I found even states that he worked with Tai Chi as well, which I can believe. 

The incredible control over his body and the way his muscles worked-considering he was working in a slightly crouched position the entire time, shows absolute control, strength, and grace, especially when you remember that he could barely see! 

Here’s a beautiful behind-the-scenes video of Badejo hard at work. It’s phenomenal to see him without the suit on and really being able to see how slow and delicate he’s moving. 

Because, for anyone who’s done squats, being able to squat all the way down to the floor and back up smoothly and slowly is something to be proud of.

(Disclaimer: I don’t own this video in any way shape or form.)

Here’s to actors in suits

For me, being both an actor and consumer of entertainment, nothing beats a human in a suit or makeup to create creatures. 

They complete the environment, and it’s more fun to play opposite of. 

But, these roles require a great deal of stamina, strength, and perseverance. 

Let alone an intimate awareness of themselves and how they move. 

After finishing the filming of Alien, Badejo returned to Nigeria and eventually opened a gallery until his death from sickle cell anemia in 1992, he was 39.

Alien is his only film credit, and it is truly a masterful performance. 

His work in Alien continues to inspire me and remind me of how important practice, patience, and play are within character movement work. 

Character Movement Work Character study Labanotation

How bone-breaking gave us a new zombie

zombie

As spoopy season feels fully underway (once I have to have socks on in the house, I know autumn is officially here), I’ve decided to spend the next few posts on character movement studies of characters or creatures that fit snugly into October. 

In looking back at the character movement studies I’ve done so far on this blog, it turns out I’ve studied and written about quite a few ‘spooky’ characters. Actually, every single one. NBC Hannibals Red Dragon, Anjelica Huston’s Morticia Addams, The Descendants Crawlers, and Taika Waititi’s Viago from What We Do in the Shadows.

What can I say?

I’m constantly drawn to these kinds of characters.

Real quick, If you’re not familiar with my blog, firstly, welcome!

Secondly, I’d suggest checking out my intro post about the work of Rudolf Laban, as I use his process and notation system as my foundation for how I break down movement.

Let’s talk zombies

Zombies, whether we’re fans or not, aren’t going anywhere. At least not anytime soon. 

Movies and tv shows continue to pour out these creatures, with their shred of humanity shaken up and stirred with a taste for brains and flesh.

I could easily write a dozen blog posts about the different kinds of zombies that have appeared across the span of entertainment, and perhaps I will someday. 

Now, to be a zombie takes dedication to character movement, body awareness with a huge dash of creepy. 

I mean, The Walking Dead puts actors through what they call Zombie School. Which is a series of auditions to find what performances would best fit their world.

More traditional zombies, the modern zombie as we know it was first created by George Romero, are shamblers.

Think of movies/shows like Dawn of the Dead (the original), The Walking Dead, and Shaun of the Dead. These zombies can’t run. Instead, they meander towards their target.

From a movement perspective, this is a very controlled yet sustained kind of movement. 

On top of this, there’s an element of flow to them. Their bodies are continuously moving, one micro-movement stacked upon the other. So, unless they’re inhibited by some sort of external force that keeps them from moving forward, they find a way to flow over keep moving towards their target.

Sure, there are jump scares, but the movements themselves are more continuous, and though they may be reaching out for an unsuspecting human, there’s often an indirect nature about them. 

Once you get used to them, they really only pose a threat as a horde or if you get yourself in a tricky situation that’s more dictated by your environment, such as wading through water, dead ends, etc. 

There is an art to being this kind of zombie, where you have to be aware of how your body is moving at all times, specifically your speed. 

These movements are sustained, indirect, and flowing.

A quick note on running zombies

There are also running zombies, of course, like in World War Z (where a great deal of the zombie work was CGI) and 28 Days later. These zombies have a quick directness to them, but there’s very little attention to detail. 

In my opinion, from a movement perspective, what makes them scary is simply how quickly they can overwhelm you. 

And while, of course, there are a few actor movement performances, say, in World War Z, that show irregular, jarring movements, it’s almost as though we don’t get to really enjoy it. 

I’m thinking of the few who transform in the street at the beginning of the film. For me the issue was that the camera moves around so quickly, we miss a great deal of the artwork behind those contorted movements. 

Also, with the release of Army of the Dead, we have a whole new breed of zombies entering the playing field, but this post isn’t about them.

Train to Busan zombies

But, what I really want to dive into, is the zombies in the 2016 Korean film Train to Busan.

So, what makes the zombies in Train to Busan different?

If the zombies we’re more used to are shamblers, with their meandering, indirect, sustained movements, the zombies from Train to Busan are sudden, direct, and bound. 

The choreographer and movement coordinator for Train to Busan is dancer Jeon Young. He’s a member of Centipedz, the only bone-breaking street dance group in Korea.

A brief background on bone-breaking 

Bone-breaking originated in Brooklyn, NY, and is a rhythmic contortionist movement style of street dance. 

It falls under the category of flexing, which has its roots in a Jamaican style of street dance called bruk-up, meant to resemble broken limbs.

It’s gained a lot of traction in certain circles, and it can be pretty cringe-worthy.

It’s like seeing a car crash and not being able to look away kind of thing. But the skillset, practice, and dedication that goes into it is absolutely stunning.

Check the link here for a fantastic youtube vid demonstrating the style. But, be aware it may be challenging to watch.

I hope it goes without saying, if you’ve got an interest in working with the dance style of bone-breaking or flexing, please take care of yourself and be aware of your body’s limits.

Back to Train to Busan

So, what Jeon brought to the table for Train to Busan, was working with actors and teaching them techniques they could practice, often for months before shooting, so that each actor could discover their own unique style.

Jeon said, “Yeon (the director) asked me to create movements that were similar to people who were infected with rabies, and the grotesqueness of this motion had a mind-blowing impact [on audiences].” 

The seizure-like, erratic movements are fully connected. The control over their sometimes flailing limbs while appearing to have no control is incredible. 

Something as ‘simple’ as one zombie being slammed into a wall is fascinating to watch. Their hand flips about awkwardly, or they fall over and land on their face, to only roll up and attack.

Their movements appear incredibly inhuman, and to me, it’s what makes them as uniquely beautiful as they are horrifying. 

Each zombie has its default mode. When seeing prey, layers the Laban building blocks of sudden, direct, and bound. 

One specific performance, though brief, continues to blow me away. “Actor Woo Do-im, whose character is part of the train crew and is the second person in the film to get infected, trained for four to five months for her brief but powerful appearance in the beginning of the film.” Her controlled, bound, and sudden sporadic, and lack of control is incredibly precise.

And for anyone who’s acted drunk can attest, playing a state of altered being that you are not, in fact, experiencing can be incredibly difficult. 

I’ll link the isolated scene here. But, if you haven’t seen the entire film and are intrigued, I can’t recommend it enough. 

But I will also warn, it’s a film full of all the feels.

Surrounded by zombies

As a character movement actor, thinking about how you’d break down playing a zombie is a wonderful exercise.

I don’t believe that you have to be a fan of zombies or spooky things to give it a go and play a little. Who knows what you may discover. And, hey, you may end up finding yourself in a school for zombies somewhere down the line.

So, which style appeals to you more?

Shamblers who operate more sustained, slightly in-direct movements with a lot of flow? 

Or…

The bone-breaking, frenzied, bound, and direct zombies of Train to Busan?

(Oh, and for those interested in seeing more work of Jeon Young, he also was the choreographer/movement coordinator of the Korean series: Kingdom. ( Also about zombies)

Happy shambling/frenzied staggering, and please don’t bite your neighbor. 😉

Acting toolbox Character Movement Work Labanotation Music

Can sensory work help how your character moves?

sensory work

As the season shifts to autumn and the weather starts to cool down, at least a bit (not enough for my taste as it’s still hitting the high 80s where I live), I’m reminded of a show I did years ago where temperature played a big role in my performance.

The play was Marat/Sade by Peter Weiss, first produced in 1963. 

The full title explains the plot: The Persecution and Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Charenton Under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade.

The entire cast was on stage the whole time, and there were, I believe, at least 25 of us.

Now, the temperature of the asylum is never indicated in the script, but we happened to be in a theatre that at the time had no air conditioning. 

We performed in the middle of July.

In Sacramento, California.

Needless to say, it was rather toasty in the theatre.

I played Simone, who is an inmate and attends to Marat the entire show. She doesn’t speak much and doesn’t move much. Therefore I often found myself sitting, crumpled up like a statue until my next cue. 

It was so sweltering in there. 

The sweating was so real that every time I moved, I could see a wet patch that had clearly been all the water I’d drunken before the performance, sweated out in a nice neat puddle around me.

I was continuously grateful that the show didn’t take place in the arctic because acting cold would have felt impossible.

And thankfully, for this show, I was able to utilize the heat to add to my character’s attentive but often lethargic nature. 

Environmental elements

Now, our bodies react to environmental elements all the time, right?

A big gust of wind send shivers down your spine? Does rain cause you to feel gloomy? Perhaps a bright sunny day makes you feel overheated, irate, and shut down.

Do you love loud music? Tense up when you hear neighbors having an argument? Immediately relax when you hear a cat purring?

These are great data points to log away for your next character movement signature.

Utilizing sensory work

So, how can you utilize sensory and environmental work for a character movement signature?

Firstly, I would suggest diving into the script and pinpoint a location.

Where is your character? 

Your office? 

A beach?

Your childhood home?

Looking at scene descriptions, settings, and time of year, if they’re indicated, can be a really helpful place to start. 

Then, you can begin to add layers that are more specific to your character’s journey.

Remember that these things can be shown through your movement and shouldn’t be solely left to costumes.

So, to use the examples from above…

Your office is constantly freezing, you have no control over the AC unit, and there’s a vent right under your desk. 

Oh, and you left your fingerless gloves at home. So what does typing out that email look like then?

You hate the beach. The sun is always in your eyes, and it feels as though you’re constantly sweating, which makes you want to move as little as possible. 

Your significant other wants to play volleyball, and you had an argument the scene before that has yet to be resolved. How would the sun impact you then?

You’ve always felt safe and comfortable in your childhood home. This is truly the only place you can relax, but the reason you’re here is for your father’s funeral, who you loved dearly. How would this impact how your body would want to move?

Let’s dive a bit deeper. 

Temperature

Does your character naturally run cold or hot?

If your character is in the arctic, perhaps you have layers of appropriate clothing.

Or, if you’re on a deserted island, perhaps some shorts and a tank top.

Costumes, though, can sometimes work against you.

Say that arctic scene is being performed in a theatre in the middle of July. Sure, the AC might be on (hopefully!), but you’re under lights, your body subconsciously being used to Sumer (depending on which hemisphere you’re in). 

What can help is thinking about what your body does when it’s cold.

Does your nose get cold? What about the tips of your fingers and toes? 

Perhaps this is a character who’s stranded in the arctic, and frostbite is beginning to settle in, meaning your toes and feet may be numb. How would you walk if your toes were numb? Is it harder to stand?

If you’re employing Labanotation, this might be a great way to utilize his building block of bound on your toes. To experiment walking around as though your toes were frozen together. 

Sound

At times it can be really uncomfortable to be in silence. 

Especially if you have someone staring at you expecting the answer to the question they just asked. 

What does the silence feel like in that context? 

My body wants to shrivel and pull in on itself just thinking about it.

Perhaps your character is the one expecting the answer. 

How does that shift your body’s reaction?

Utilize power dynamics in the scene. 

Let’s say you’re in a scene where there’s music blasting. 

It’s so loud that you can’t think straight. 

Perhaps it causes you to tense and hunch your shoulders, squint your eyes, and you become more direct to try and focus.

Sound is an element I love to experiment with. One of my favorite things I do when developing a character is play around with music to discover what genre/s this character would listen to. 

What is their soundtrack, and how does it mesh with their emotional states through their journey?

How will you utalize sensory work?

These are just a few ways you can begin to incorporate environmental and sensory elements into your character movement work. 

Something else to remember is that these choices don’t have to always go hand in hand with your character’s motivations.

At times it’s fun to play against the motivation and see what happens. 

So, what’s the weather outside like right now where you are? How does your body react to it, and can you log it away as future actor character movement work data?

In my experience, playing with these elements only enriches your performance for both you and the audience.

And hopefully, if you’re in a theatre in the middle of July, you have AC.

Happy moving!

Character Movement Work Labanotation

Does the stress in your body match your character?

stress in your body

Currently, my body is like a long string of tiny knots. 

This long fiber of thread seems to be weaving along the tip of my left shoulder, cascading down my spine. 

Suppose I were performing a super relaxed character both physically and mentally right now. In that case, my body may find it a challenge to work against its current natural state.

Stress sucks.

It’s everywhere, and oh, does the wrong amount of it wreak havoc on our bodies. 

To be fair, stress is incredibly natural and a crucial element in our lives if we ever have to run away from a lion.

But, most people don’t have to run away for lions anymore.

And the stress of modern living is on a whole new level.

We all carry stress in different parts of our bodies. For me, it’s the neck and shoulders.

So, where am I going with all of this?

To put it bluntly: you most likely have some kind of unresolved physical stress residing in your body.

Therefore, each character you play also has unresolved physical stress in their body. 

And where you carry your stress may not be the appropriate spot for your character to carry theirs. 

As our levels of stress change from day to day, situation to situation and conversation to conversation within our own lives, it also shifts for our characters.

Flow

Barbara Sellers-Young writes in her book, Breathing, Movement, Exploration (no affiliate link here)

“Whether you move the entire body at once-simultaneous movement-or as a sequence of parts-successive/sequential movement-you are managing your flow of energy. Thus, you are literally ‘feeling’ the situation and deciding how to act as a consequence of your interpretation of the moment.”

As humans and artists, just like our characters, we constantly react to the world around us. Taking in info, evaluating, and responding. 

And guess what: our body does the same thing. 

In particular, my body has operated on the far side of the spectrum of bound these past two years. 

Now, what I mean by bound is that more often than not, parts of my body that should have a more free range of motion have been stuck. As a result, it’s harder or more painful to move them.

Bound is one of the opposites of Flow within Labanotation, the dance notation system of Rudolf Laban.

The other side of the Flow spectrum being: Free.

If you’re new to Labanotation, check my other post about his work before continuing here, so you’ve got a good foundation.

Flow is undoubtedly what I focus on the most with my students because I’ve always found it to be a superb dial to play with for each character. Plus, it’s rarely our natural state of being. 

So, here’s a few ways to get you thinking about the great giant dial of Flow and how you can incorporate it into either your pre or post-show routine so that you can show up to your character with an open body and give your best performance.

Free

Free has many meanings, depending on the context. It can mean liberating, no longer confined, and you may get an image of a sail of a ship flapping freely in the wind. 

In a movement context, it can also mean indulgent and fluid. 

At its core, free implies a movement that is difficult to stop. 

One way I love to help my body feel more free and relaxed, especially if I’m about to dive into a more lighthearted and free-spirited character, is to simply shake the tension away from my day. 

It could be jumping, dancing, or just shaking my hands. 

My body always feels lighter afterward, it’s easier to stand tall and breathe.

A Healthline article titled Can Shaking Your Body Help Heal Stress and Trauma? Some Experts Say Yes states, “The shaking or vibrating helps to release muscular tension, burn excess adrenaline, and calm the nervous system to its neutral state, thereby managing stress levels in the body.”

Honestly, this is an essential tool in my life. It takes seconds, and I use it both as a pre and post-show ritual as it has allowed me to perform high-stakes/stress scenes and then not bring it home with me. 

Seriously, I’ll get off stage, and as soon as I’m in a safe spot (as in, I won’t hit anything or be in anyone’s way), I shake out my entire body.

Bound

Bound in a movement context is the inhibiting of a free movement. 

It stops all movement in its tracks.

Another word I love to describe it is resistance. 

Now, I’m a big fan of visualization. 

From a movement and body awareness angle, it can be beneficial, as sometimes we don’t notice our right big toe usually. Until we visualize a heavy brick resting on it.

I like to help students work with bound is to visualize an iron ball, variable in size, resting in the specific part of the body. 

It can be just under the surface, like a knot in a muscle, or expand and encompass, say, your entire left knee joint. 

It’s heavy, cold, foreign, and uncomfortable. 

Another technique I like to use is to isolate the part of your body you want to be bound. Simply tense that muscle. 

This can be an exhausting process, and if you’re going to employ this in performance, I would advise doing it only when you have to. 

Also making sure that you have countermeasures in place, like a shaking or stretching exercise planned so that you can minimize the tension in your body long term. 

Managing our movements

The word ‘chronic’ means constant or habitual, something that continues for a long time or recurring frequency.

After developing a character movement signature, something that could be useful is to think about where your character falls on the free/bound spectrum at any given moment.

Because it’s constantly changing. 

bound and free

In this picture: both free and bound exist at the same time. The legs are free-flowing and resting, whereas the back, shoulders, and neck are bound to remain upright and alert. 

To bring this to a movement signature, let’s say the character you’re playing is overall confident, caring, and free-spirited.

Now, if this scene with their estranged mom, would that be a moment of resistance? Of liberation? A bit of both?

Tie it into the phycological work you’re already doing.

What relationships are at play here? Is this conversation relaxed or full of tension? What does that mean for the body of this character?

Do they start freer, and then throughout the course of their arc, does bound chip away at them?

Are the arms free and gesturing while the legs remain bound, standing their ground?

How can you display their journey physically, regardless of how subtle?

Things to ponder, friends.

Happy moving!

Character Movement Work Labanotation

What is your character’s relationship to gravity? 

relationship to gravity

I was flipping through one of my favorite books on movement for the actor the other day, and a quote lept out at me. 

Quite literally.

I was reading while lying down, which I know from previous experience can be a dangerous task. I turned the page, had no idea of my fate, read what I’m about to share with you, lost my grip on the book, and it fell on my face. 

So, here’s the quote:

“Are we resisting gravity, releasing into it, or negotiating with it?”

And yes, the irony is not lost on me 🙂

The book, by the way, is called Breathing, Movement, Exploration by Barbara Sellers-Young, and it is my go-to for character movement work. (Fyi, not an affiliate link)

I could go on and on about the brilliance of this book, but all I’ll say here is it changed how I approached a role 1,000% for the better. 

Now, in that particular moment when the book fell on my face, gravity was playfully reminding me of its existence. 

Gravity, whether we like it or not, is a fact of life. 

And because it’s everywhere in our lives, it’s everywhere for the characters we play too. (Yep, even if you’re in the world of The Expanse and space, things are happening. If anything, you become more aware of it then, right?)

So, how exactly can gravity help us in creating a character movement signature?

Rudolf Laban

First, let’s break this down a bit.

Barbara spends a good chunk of her book guiding the reader through the work of Rudolf Laban. If you’re not familiar with his work, check out my intro post about him.

The short of it is he was a dancer, choreographer, teacher, and dance-theorist born in 1879 in what is modern-day Slovakia. 

His incredible career spanned decades, opened dozens of dance and movement schools, and is often referred to as one of the founders of European Modern Dance.

Through his work, he created a dance notation system called Labanotation, “a clear and concise language for describing human movement.”

One of the four foundational elements of Labanotation is the quality of ‘weight.’

And I don’t mean weight as in the number on the scale. However, it does still play a role.  

Weight, here, is basically gravity.

Weight

Now, the two ends of the spectrum of our relationship to weight are strong or light. (Strong can also be interpreted as heavy. )

To continue to quote Barbara, “A strong movement results from a level of contraction in the muscles that causes a forceful exert in a particular direction…A light movement requires minimal force or tension and counter tension.”  

Performing either of these qualities can get really tiring really quickly, especially if you’re thinking in extremes.

So before diving into extremes, something I really want to stress is the reminder that ‘strong’ doesn’t mean it has to be forceful. It can be rooted and gentle. 

Therefore, light doesn’t literally mean that you aren’t making contact with the ground.

Resisting gravity

A picture is worth 1,000 words, right? 

So, here’s an example of what resisting gravity could look like.

gravity

In this pic, the person is using their strength of their body to anchor them so that the umbrella doesn’t fly away.

Again, playing with the dial of extremes, character movement doesn’t have to be fixed firmly on one end of the spectrum to be effective. 

Releasing into gravity

Again, a picture for your eyeballs to illustrate how one can release into gravity.

gravity

This little one looks completely relaxed, their muscles completely releasing. Falling asleep/being asleep is probably the easiest way we release into gravity. 

We’re unconscious; after all, we can’t offer gravity any resistance. 

Negotiating with gravity 

This really is the baseline. 

Most of the time, we and our characters are negotiating with gravity to some degree.

The first example that comes to mind, from one extreme, is the work in the sci-fi show The Expanse.

When shooting a scene taking place in zero-gravity, actors have a lot of movement work ahead of them.

Then you often have to add the element of their gravity boots being on. The boots help them resist gravity while the rest of them is negotiating or releasing.

A behind-the-scenes clip of some of their work revealed they worked with a movement coach to help them frame the world of zero-gravity so that they were moving accordingly. 

Now, since gravity is everywhere, I wanted to touch on how we use gravity to interact with objects/props outside of ourselves.  

Extending gravity to objects/props

A huge pet peeve of mine is when I see actors drink out of a cup/mug/glass of some sort, and there’s clearly no liquid in it. 

Especially the Starbucks to-go cups for a hot drink. For some reason, those examples stick out in my mind the most.

When there’s no weight, no resistance in the actor’s performance when picking up and taking a swig from that cup…I want to scream.

It takes me out of the moment so quickly, suddenly, and angrily reminding me that I’m not in the story. They’ve lost me.

And as a performer, the last thing you want is to have your audience get yanked out of the story you’re telling. 

Therefore, it’s essential to extend your character’s relationship to gravity to the objects they then encounter. 

So, what is your character’s relationship to gravity?

Is it a simple relationship? 

Or is it complicated?

Something to keep in your mind when crafting your next character’s movement signature. 

Do they sometimes forget gravity is there and have books fall on their faces?

Maybe they resist gravity as much as they resist everything else in their life.

Or perhaps, I imagine, most of the time, they’re somewhere in-between.

And on that note, thanks, gravity, who knows where we’d be without you.