208: olivia (strindberg, butchered)

way to butcher the scene, man. way to go. really. i would applaud you if i didn’t need my hands to be pristine for the modelling shoot tomorrow. but really, strindberg’s hard and you really fucked it up. you and harriet brought absolutely nothing to the table and made a mockery of a legendary playwright, who also happened to have syphilis. i would give you notes, but my notes would have to be “how to act,” which would mean you would be taking a class from me, on how to act, and how to deconstruct a scene so it makes sense in front of anyone, and you’re already taking a class where we expected you to know all of that already. i hope when you go home tonight you really think about how terrible that scene was. i hope you call harriet and the two of you talk it over, because … what are you even doing here, you know what i’m saying? why are you taking an acting class at this level? i’m not kidding when i say an actual orangutan could perform that scene better than you, man. it’s a mockery of everything acting. thespius’s bones are rattling, shakespeare just laughed at your futile attempt so hard he farted a little bit. i can’t believe it. you spend a thousand dollars on this class! one thousand dollars! why would you do that? you could’ve bought, i don’t know, an ipad or something. it’s just, it’s embarrassing, man. you were embarrassing. all the other students were cringing so hard, ladies’ picked their feet up off the ground they were cringing so hard. we were all in fetal positions in our chairs. please re-read the play and talk to harriet and in two weeks you’re going to do it again, and if you’re that bad next time, i’m going to have to drop you from the class and move you into the remedial acting course. which i don’t want to do, because that class is the worst. don’t make me do that, man. don’t make me do that.