#acting craft

I know we all have talked a lot about Michael Sheen's ability to manage microexpressions with his face, but this post is to mark another really interesting character crafting decision: his voice.

I believe that, If you are a hearing person and you watch Good Omens in its original language, identifying Aziraphale's pitch, tone and timbre is really easy. That's because it is slightly higher and more of a dulcet tone than the usual Michael Sheen voice (which usually is more deep and lower).

However, there are three times when Aziraphale uses the "Michael Sheen voice" in season 2 (I'm not sold on having heard it during season 1). All of them are on point for the character and I love the acting choice, so I came here to share:

I have already seen this one discussed, so it goes first: the "Azirapalala- Aziraphale" moment, when correcting Furfur in the e04 minisode. It is made even funnier because we have already seen him being so happily flamboyant... And his voice going lower with the annoyance of correcting his name is precious.

When he vows to protect Gabriel, during the final defense of the bookshop, in e06. “You came to me, I said I would protect you And I will”. His voice shifts as he makes that last point clear, and suddenly his Sheen voice becomes the sign of his commitment to keep his word. He doesn't use that voice when menacing the demons; he goes with a more "Aziraphale tone", while having his face do the "fierce" work.

My personal favorite: during e01, when Crowley comes back after their fight, trying to keep his cool, and Aziraphale is so not having it. He uses his natural register when he says he wants "a proper apology, actually". And he practically keeps that tone until the apology is finished.

@susanwhynow noticed (and I had absolutely MISSED) that when he answers the "Smitten. I believe." he is using his Michael voice. I was fooled by the "You're being silly!" being delivered in a tender, usual Aziraphale manner... But yeah, one of the best lines of these two being sweet is in "Michael tone". Do with this what you want :D

That is quite an acting choice! When a character is built around choices that separate them so clearly from the person who performs them, deciding to use the "natural" repertoire is really meant to make an impact. It is a really subtle voice work, but goes a long way to convey the seriousness of those moments for Aziraphale.

My Quirky GOAT 🥰

Jack Wolfe for GRUMPY Magazine - 2023

RADA, 1974

“The teacher Elizabeth Pursey made ‘RADA Mouths’ on standard 8mm film* which focused on the mouths of first year students. She then revisited those students at the end of their training to see how the tension around their mouths and their diction had altered. Although Acting is about instinct it is underpinned by technique and discipline, this exercise highlights that. Students mouths on this film include Imelda Staunton and Alan Rickman.

In her semi-retirement, Elizabeth continued to work at RADA, giving precise advice to students. Alan Rickman remembered one such time:

“A group of second-year students had prepared pieces by Dylan Thomas. Elizabeth stood in front of them: upright, elegant and smiling…The students were busy writing down every timeless word she said. Finally, it was their turn. As the first volunteer walked to the front….she turned and, still smiling, lobbed a grenade: ‘And just remember – it’s not about you.’” […] On the mezzanine between the first and second floor of the RADA building, there are several faded cream wooden boards marking the Bancroft Gold, Silver, Bronze and Vanbrugh Awards, the Kendal, Special and Principal’s Prize and the Liverpool Playhouse Award. The awards began in 1905 and stopped in 1985.

One of the recipients of the Bancroft Gold Award, RADA’s highest award, was Alan Rickman, who received it in 1974, the year he graduated.”

(‘RADA.aс.uk’)

* The original 8mm film have not been digitize and are stored in the RADA archive.

Full credit to the original Instagram post by @alan__rickman__ for research, text, and photo sourcing.

After writing about why Jason Momoa is a poor fit for Goliath and why that role demands classical acting skill, I realized there is a darker, more revealing version of the same casting logic that deserves to be addressed. It shows up far less often, but when it does, it exposes something more troubling than bad taste. It reveals an indifference to acting itself.

There is a version of fantasy casting discourse that is merely shallow, and then there is the version that actively alarms me. One example I have seen, thankfully far less often, is people suggesting Gina Carano as Demona in a live action Gargoyles adaptation.

This suggestion is revealing because it strips the conversation down to its ugliest essentials. The logic goes no further than this: tall, muscular woman equals powerful female character. Wings and fangs get stapled on afterward. Acting is never part of the equation.

Demona is one of the most emotionally and psychologically complex characters ever created for western animation. She is rage and grief layered over centuries of betrayal, guilt, self loathing, obsession, and ideological extremism. She moves constantly between grandiose villain monologues, intimate confessions, biting sarcasm, and raw emotional exposure. She is theatrical by design. She weaponizes language. She lives in heightened dialogue.

You do not cast that role based on just physique.

Even setting aside everything else, Gina Carano has never demonstrated the ability to carry dialogue at that level. Her performances consistently struggle with line delivery, rhythm, and emotional nuance. This is not a matter of taste or politics. It is a matter of record.

There is also a piece of trivia that makes this suggestion almost darkly ironic. In Steven Soderbergh’s Haywire, Carano’s line delivery was considered so ineffective that much of her dialogue was dubbed in post production. The uncredited actor brought in to replace her voice was Laura San Giacomo. Gargoyles fans will recognize that name immediately, because San Giacomo was the uncredited voice of Fox on the series.

So yes, there is a bitter little circle there. An actor associated with Gargoyles was literally brought in to repair Carano’s performance in a film because Carano could not sell the dialogue. And yet some people still think she should be entrusted with one of the most demanding vocal and theatrical roles the series has to offer.

That should be dispositive.

There is also a deeper problem at work here, which is the lazy reliance on casting to type. It is a disservice to acting as a discipline. If roles were only cast according to surface traits and perceived persona, some of the most iconic performances in genre history would never have happened. Deanna Troi would never have been Demona. Luke Skywalker would never have been the Joker.

Those performances worked precisely because casting looked past type and trusted actors with range, intelligence, and command of voice and language. Demona was not cast because only because she sounded tough. She was cast because Marina Sirtis could deliver operatic rage, bitterness, seduction, and despair, sometimes all in the same scene. The Joker was not iconic because Mark Hamill looked dangerous. He was iconic because he understood rhythm, irony, and theatrical menace.

Casting by physique and "type" alone does not protect characters. It flattens them.

Demona is gothic tragedy. She is operatic. She is closer to Lady Macbeth or Medea than to an action movie bruiser. Playing her requires vocal control, emotional precision, and the ability to inhabit heightened language without sanding it down.

When someone suggests Carano for Demona, what they are really revealing is how they engage with Gargoyles. Not as drama, but as imagery. Muscles. Anger. Aesthetic strength. They are not thinking about cadence, subtext, or how a line lands when spoken aloud.

Demona is not a silhouette. She is not a symbol. She is not a statement.

The Art of Portraying Dangerous Women Imagine needing a woman capable of performing the most chilling acts—the kind who can effortlessly slit someone’s throat, poison a whiskey, or even smash her son’s fingers with a hammer. Perhaps you’re in charge of “The Sticky,” a new Amazon heist comedy set to premiere on December 6. In that case, you would undoubtedly want an actress who can skillfully…

Watching John Malkovich.

To understand better why Letterboxd members set out on quests to watch specific actors’ entire filmographies, we invited Tim Rod to describe her dangerous and seductive journey through John Malkovich’s screen history.

For many film lovers, 2020 has been a year of catching up: on franchises, on directors’ filmographies, on historical gaps and top 100s. But for some Letterboxd members, the year indoors has been an opportunity to hyper-focus on a single actor and their work.

Jeremiah Lambert is on a Bacon Fest, Naked Airplane has embarked on a wild ride through the works of De Niro, Hackman, Hoffman, Nicholson and Pacino. Joey is preparing for next year’s centennial of The Kid by churning through Charlie Chaplin’s catalog (with David Robinson’s biography Chaplin: His Life and Art in hand). A quick Twitter survey found others churning through a performer selection as wide-ranging as Burt Lancaster, Parker Posey, Maggie Smith, Nicolas Cage, Cary Grant, Kevin Costner, Robin Williams, Adèle Haenel, Alan Arkin, Sam Rockwell and a Seth Rogen thirst project.

It can be a bumpy journey. In one performer’s oeuvre the quality will range widely, the genres too. But the rewards are many in a close study of craft, and there are revelations, whether it’s that Australia’s Miranda Otto deserves more recognition, or it’s “the total acceptance, lack of judgment, and vulnerability with which Alan Arkin has played so many of his flawed and wonderful characters”.

With Christian Bale in ‘Empire of the Sun’ (1987).