My Time with Christopher Plummer
He was, and still is, the pinnacle of great classical acting in Canada.
“Acting is about impersonation, not representation.” This was one of the first things I heard Chris say about acting in my time with him. By the time I worked with Chris, he was, of course, an acting legend here in Canada. Yes, he was the “Sound of Music” guy, and I had seen him in dozens of films up until then, but he was always known to me as one of Canada’s great classical actors. My heroes growing up were the great Shakespearean actors.
My earliest memories were watching Laurence Olivier in his Henry V, Hamlet, and Richard III. In my early theatre days, I would go to used book stores and buy copies of old books that talked about the history of the Royal Shakespeare Company and the Stratford Festival (Ontario). I prided myself on knowing even the “ensemble” players by name and telling people about the famous productions and directors/actor managers that influenced and changed Western theatre as we know it.
I knew Chris Plummer more from a story of him falling ill as Henry V when William Shatner (another young Canadian) had to take over the part at the Stratford Festival in 1956 than I did about the Sound of Music or Battle of Britain. To me, he was the great Shakespearean actor from Canada who learned his craft on the stages here. He was the one who proved Canadian actors could be great and hold their own against the world’s best. It was my dream to work with Chris, and it came true when I was hired by the Stratford Festival under director, Des McAnuff, to assist him on The Tempest. One day I will write an article about Des, who was also instrumental in my career as a young director. For today, I am here to talk about Chris.
On the first day of rehearsal, I introduced myself to Mr. Plummer, as I called him at the time, and told him how I had dreamed of this moment. His smile lit up the room, and he said, “Thank you very much, Lee. We must make sure we spend some time together then, so I can live up to those expectations.” I think he understood from the first moment that I was there to learn from him. To be a fly on the wall at every moment and, hopefully, as an assistant director to Des, get my hands dirty in contributing to the work. I’m happy to say Des and Chris exceeded my expectations in all things, including generosity and respect.
You see, I wasn’t a young, inexperienced director at this point. I had started my own outdoor Shakespeare Festival in my home town of Newmarket, Ontario, and had directed three critically acclaimed productions of Shakespeare. As an actor, I had played several roles in Shakespeare, and I had assisted several times at both the Stratford and Shaw Festivals (Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario). In addition, I had been trained through Stratford’s Birmingham Conservatory for Classical Theatre and had been mentored by one of the great Shakespearian directors, Robin Phillips. I adored Shakespeare, and I had extreme confidence in my ability to work with the text. I don’t know for sure if Chris knew my background, but he gave me instant respect as a director.
Being an assistant director, I knew I would be spending lots of time with Chris in discussions about the play and sitting with him in the theatre. The first time we were able to have a one-on-one, I asked him about his acting training. To Chris, his voice was very important to him. He knew if he was to be a great classical actor like those he admired, he needed to work on his voice. He told me the most wonderful story about doing a voice lesson on resonance by speaking out loud towards a glass on the mantle. When the glass started ringing on the mantle, that is when you knew it was reaching the back of the house. This was optimal resonance, and he would practice every day. If you ever heard the power of Chris’s voice, you would see that it obviously worked. Even at the age of 82, his voice was like a trumpet in our production of The Tempest. I can still hear it clear as day when he said, as Prospero, “graves at my command” during the “elves of hills” speech. It gives me goosebumps to hear the power and control in his voice. The articulation, diction, and enunciation were superb! Luckily, a film version of this exists and you can hear it yourselves! You all should know that I tried this glass on the mantle trick and was less successful. My regret is asking him not to show me! :) The lesson is still there, though, and it just takes a young actor with patience and persistence to master this old voice trick.
Chris and I talked a great deal about Shakespeare, obviously. According to him, the most important thing for a young actor to focus on is Shakespeare study. He found it a higher calling and saw himself as part of a great group of artists that aspired to be one with this great language and playwright. He saw Shakespeare as the true test for any actor, as he believed Shakespeare gave us the full gamut of human emotions and experience. One of the gold nuggets he left me here was that young actors and directors needed to learn that the working of the mind must be visible before the tongue gives it words. Oh, wonderful! This is why I constantly want to work with the greats. They always say something in one line so profound that it changes you as an artist! The penny dropped for me here. When working on Shakespeare, we always get caught up in the words, the verse, and the rhetoric. Chris was saying it is still a living thought. They are people thinking, and the audience needs to see you think! You can also see why he was such a terrific actor for the camera. It is even more critical for the screen actor to ensure that the camera captures his thoughts. This is the reaction shot! It also helps the editor and director know where to cut when the actor understands this.
As you can imagine, Chris was a huge champion of actor training. Up until the day I worked with him, he was still seeking to learn and perfect his craft. He believed in apprenticeship and mourned the loss of the old style of repertory theatre. In Canada, we are lucky enough to have two theatres that still work within this old tradition. Yet, every year, for numerous reasons, we are losing this most valuable training ground for actors. Chris truly believed that young actors needed to be acting in many different plays, many different styles, and many different parts at the same time. This included playing minor parts at the same time as playing mid-sized and leading parts. The benefits of this type of apprenticeship are obvious when it comes to learning your craft and stretching yourself for versatility physically, technically, and vocally. It is also a great way to start your career by watching senior actors work and meeting several different directors, who will challenge you in different ways. It will be these directors that keep hiring you too. Chris gave great credit to his days in repertory, saying that it gave him his craft and his career.
The last great lesson Chris left with me was the importance of the sacred rehearsal period. This was where you would sink or swim, he said. It must be mentioned that Chris showed up to Tempest rehearsals completely off-book. On the very first day! He explained that he needed the full time to express his thoughts aloud in order for the pennies to drop sooner. The connection in thought is where the character lies with the great writer’s. You must spend time in their minds, and the character will come to you through the language. He said this is where many young actors get it wrong. They think you start memorizing on day one and find it with the book in your hand. His argument won me over immediately when he said, “What can you possibly be giving your fellow actor with your head in the book?” You must always be with them and they must always be with you. He continued, “Many great acting nuggets come from the trampoline of reaction that the playwright has written (for your acting partner) that feeds your next thought. It comes much easier when you see the other actor become one with the thought that feeds your next thought. You need both the acting and the re-acting. Oh yeah, and it’s the only way you can ever get to suit the action to the word, the word to the action, as Hamlet says. You need time for the body to become one with the thought. Appearingly unintentional effects can thus be, and in the case of a great artist, always be, the result of extensive research and practice. The appearance of spontaneity through meticulous rehearsal is where the art becomes true.” Brilliant.
Like all great Olympians will tell you, it takes complete dedication to your craft to reach the heights of your profession. This is what Chris was. He was, and still is, the pinnacle of great classical acting in Canada. Many other lessons were learned in that rehearsal hall by the whole company, but these are the ones that were given personally to me during our “talks”. They are also the ones I will always remember and come back to. They are reminders of the work it takes and the responsibility I have to pass them down to the next generation. At least, the ones who recognize the work it takes to become a great actor and who have the understanding that history is crucial when it comes to apprenticeship in the theatre. It is a trade that requires the knowledge passed down from those who came before us. Chris was a true classical actor, yet he will be remembered for his great film performances. I will still always remember him as Canada’s great classical actor, who wanted nothing more than to pass on the mantle to those who wanted to take it from him. Well, I am still holding it, Chris. I will never let go but will continue to share it. RIP, Mr. Plummer.
