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Show me God (sorry, G*d)...
What a spectacular thought, eh? Though there are some performers who tread the boards fully usurping themselves and the title at the same time, I'm talking about the "one and only", the "almighty", HIM (and he is a "him" in religious literature much to the consternation of much of our species). I'm not talking about the purveyors, the messengers... Jesus and Muhammad and the other self-proclaimed conduits to the everlasting light. And I'm not talking about Buddha who's been portrayed theatrically for centuries, because he was a "man" who achieved "god" and invited everyone else to become achievers as well. No, I'm talking about the "father", the all-seeing eye, the beginning and the end of all human dreams, Numero Uno!
How do we portray 'him' on stage? Well, in some Western religious alleys, it's simply forbidden. A voice, yes. A light, a shadow, maybe. But no images, thank you, they attract lightning! "Cabin In The Sky" notwithstanding, we've all seen the Cecil B. DeMille treatments in too many Hollywood potboilers and even some "passion" plays (giddy term) – a change of sky, a change of light, and the voice, that voice! A resonance, a timbre, an enunciation that removes all doubt, that restores all hope, and pumps our reservoir of guilt. Some Hollywood guys have made a lucrative career providing that cosmic tone in films, television, even commercials. No, I don't want just a voice... I want "him" on stage, not on the screen, on stage in real time.
What could an actor do? How do you build that character, find the inner truth when there is no inner or outer. As Sir Larry and Orson and Gary Oldman would ask:: What does his nose look like? A Noah's-Ark-of-a-task. Michelangelo did it, albeit, upside down, while being harassed by his padrone. So that's where I'd start... Buonarroti knew! He was touched by "him", whoever "he" was. That magnificent body and that magnificent face and that magnificent nose. There's the physical! And the flame of character? It's in that finger, that wonderful laissez faire finger flowering from the most peaceful hand ever portrayed. Follow it back into the inner "life" and you'll find a bottomless source of memory, emotion, and eager experience.
But where am I going to find the actor to bring Michelangelo's vision to life? Not on this planet, and not off either (until they discount the first-class fare to the Skylab and beyond).
No, no sense in auditioning for this role. Time to turn to The Animating Life Giver. Time to create a "new" actor, a shape-shifting anthropamorphoid with no baggage, who doesn't have to pee no matter how long a rehearsal lasts. With "it" I can begin to compose. Compose what, you ask? Why reality of course: the who-what-where-and-when dramatic explosion that finally answers why.
And who is this Animating Life Giver? Who will create the Supreme B***g, the Supreme Avatar (sorry, A****r)? Why James Cameron of course. And who is James Cameron, you ask? Why the 'big bang' (sorry, b**-***g) of course!
Reductio ad singularis. Which means— "simple as pie."
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