The bad idea version

Freeing yourself up from perfectionism

Dear friends,

Regular readers of this newsletter will know how much I love to take on the ‘inner critic’. I’m sure you’ve experienced it: that voice in your head that shows up to tell you why you can’t do something. It helps me to remember that this voice is there to keep us safe. Often, the inner critic who lives in your head might be based on a parent, a teacher, or someone else you respected when you were small, who was watching out for danger. The trouble is that when the inner critic is driving the bus, at best we make very safe choices - and at worst, we wind up beating ourselves up or tying ourselves in knots.

There are all sorts of techniques for working with the inner critic, and I’ve ended up exploring lots of them in my work with actors. Performance requires such a profound level of present-ness - you can’t be battling your inner critic at the same time as giving your best performance, and if you are, you’re working twice as hard as you need to be. This week, I want to share with you just one technique I’ve found to be so helpful and powerful to make your way round the inner critic. I’ve used it in all sorts of creative processes with different collaborators: from actors and writers to designers when we’re exploring the visual concept for a show.

I call it the bad idea version.

It’s that simple.

When you care a lot about the work you’re making - whether it’s notionally creative or not, perhaps you put a lot of pressure on yourself to get it right first time. The bad idea version shakes things up a little, it releases the pressure. It allows you to make it messy, make it quick, make it embarrassing or cringe or boring.

And more often than not, the bad idea version releases something great. Because everyone in the space not only feels free, but feels safe to take risks.

I was reminded of how much I use this simple tool when working with a brilliant young actor this morning. I count myself lucky to work with the wonderful charity Open Door, who exist to support actors from lower socioeconomic backgrounds get into drama school. The charity fulfils a vital role in an industry which is becoming more and more inequitable, and their statistics speak for themselves. So many Open Door participants wind up not only getting into drama school, but also having stellar careers and helping create real change in the industry. I’m one of Open Door’s tutors, and I get so much out of working with the talented, conscientious and disciplined young people who are our participants.

This week, one of my actors shared what had made the most difference to him in our time working together. And he said it was the bad idea version. That it freed him up to start a speech wherever he was at, to put the words in the space and see what was there. Above all, to take ownership of the words. I could not have been more glad to hear this. When you’re working with verse, it’s all too easy for a young actor (or indeed, any actor!) to feel the weight of history bearing down upon them, to hear the ghosts of all the actors from the last 400 years right back to Shakespeare saying the words over their shoulder. It was brilliant to know that the notion of the bad idea version had released this actor from that weight. I felt so proud.

I’ll share some other examples of how I put the bad idea version into practice in my various creative processes:

• “It’s not this, but…” - as simple as making a metaphorical comparison might unlock something for you or your collaborators. But try not to go too far down this road or you might end up in this Mitchell and Webb sketch.

• “What if it was the most cartoon version?” This especially works with sets - what if it was all plush velvet, what if the whole space filled with blood, what if everyone was dressed identically? Usually the flavours are too strong but it brings something else to the fore.

• “What if they all just said exactly what they mean?” This is great with writing a scene. The result will be - and I cannot say this strongly enough - UnPerformable - but it will bring your subtext to the fore and make you think hard about what you actually want the point of the scene to be. I’ve never tried this but I imagine it would also work well with public speaking, isolating your points clearly.

I’d love to hear if you try out the bad idea version in your working processes, and if it might release something for your creative collaborators. As always, do give this a like if you enjoyed it - it really helps other people find my writing. And thank you, as ever, for being here. I’ll see you next week. You’re brilliant.

J x