Looking through Bresson's thoughts, I could not choose just one lone aphorism, but found rather three which struck me most. However, in essence, these three passages are different ways of saying the same thing, or expansions on one another. They are:
"Who said: 'A singe look let's loose a passion, a murder, a war?'"
"The ejaculatory force of the eye"
"Expressive face of the actor on which the slightest crease, controlled by him and magnified by the lens, suggests the exaggerations of the kabuki."
These struck me in particular because I've recently made the transition in the past few years from stage acting to film acting, which aren't only different ballparks but rather entirely different games. From many of the other aphorisms, it seems that Bresson is not a fan of theatre (or is at least strongly divided on the matter) and doesn't give a lot of credit to his film actors, referring to them often as 'models'. However, these three passages show another side, which is his vast appreciation for both good actors and the power of good cinematography.
Having been a stage actor most of my life, I come from a place where big, bold gestures are essential; how are the people in the back row going to see your emotion unless you don't? But it makes for a strange transition to film, of which I had difficulty at first because I was acting for the stage still and not the camera. Unlike the audience member in the back row, the camera picks up
every little nuance. Some of the most powerful performances in film are not performances at all, but rather presences. This is what I've learned over the past few years, perfectly entwined in the act of shaping an identity as I move into adulthood. I've always been an actor, on stage and often in real life; we all act certain ways according to norms and mores and wanting people to like us and accept us. But here's the rub I've simultaneously come across in film acting: the more I rehearse for film acting, the less authentic it appears to the camera. The camera doesn't lie. So, I've had to shape myself to simply
be in the moment, to actually be involved in the thought process simultaneously with the character, to
listen instead of waiting to deliver a line. When you
exist in a moment, the camera sees it, sees every little furrow of the brow and twitch of the mouth and the audience therefore will believe it. And it translates perfectly to real life, to simply
be in the moment instead of worrying if someone like you or accept you.
Knowing this, I know exactly the power Bresson is referring to with subtle performances. All three of these aphorisms did not strike me in the mind but rather in the gut, because I understand perfectly. There are moments in a movie, such subtle and simple moments that strike in the gut the sort of emotion that
would make a man capable of murder, of war. There is a raw, guttural quality to the notion the way an eye can cause an ejaculatory response, can make you squirm or laugh or cry, but strike you in the gut. It is the way that kabuki theatre, or any theatre for that matter, must exaggerate actions and emotions for the person in the back row, but a cinema screen, projecting a face that is 40 feet high will allow any viewer to literally see a sparkle in an eye without moving a muscle on a face. This is the sort of power Bresson views in cinematography and I can't say I disagree.
