I’ve been offered a lot but I want to stay away from romance, comedies and fluffy work. I met Stephen Spielberg at a breast cancer benefit and he explained that he’d seen me on Saturday Night Live and thought I was ready for a movie. He said, ‘You go to the ledge and are unafraid to jump off.’ That was the biggest compliment to me because he was saying I was free.
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A good actor must never be in love with anyone but himself.
A good actor must never be in love with anyone but himself.
To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart;
read more
To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart;
To make mankind, in conscious virtue bold,
Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold--
For this the tragic Muse first trod the stage.
It's very hard! Oh, Dick, my boy,
It's very hard one can't enjoy
A little private spouting;
read more
It's very hard! Oh, Dick, my boy,
It's very hard one can't enjoy
A little private spouting;
But sure as Lear or Hamlet lives,
Up comes our master, Bounce! and gives
The tragic Muse a routing.
Acting is not being emotional, but being able to express emotion.
Acting is not being emotional, but being able to express emotion.
Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a read more
Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace.
Prologues precede the piece in mournful verse,
As undertakers walk before the hearse.
Prologues precede the piece in mournful verse,
As undertakers walk before the hearse.
Prologues like compliments are loss of time;
'Tis penning bows and making legs in rhyme.
Prologues like compliments are loss of time;
'Tis penning bows and making legs in rhyme.
Like hungry guests, a sitting audience looks;
Plays are like suppers; poets are the cooks.
The founder's read more
Like hungry guests, a sitting audience looks;
Plays are like suppers; poets are the cooks.
The founder's you: the table is the place:
The carvers we: the prologue is the grace.
Each act, a course, each scene, a different dish,
Though we're in Lent, I doubt you're still for flesh.
Satire's the sauce, high-season'd, sharp and rough.
Kind masks and beaux, I hope you're pepperproof?
Wit is the wine; but 'tis so scarce the true
Poets, like vintners, balderdash and brew.
Your surly scenes, where rant and bloodshed join.
Are butcher's meat, a battle's sirloin:
Your scenes of love, so flowing, soft and chaste,
Are water-gruel without salt or taste.
The point of acting is to pretend you're someone else and sell a story.
The point of acting is to pretend you're someone else and sell a story.
