The Art of Getting Off Book

There is an art to getting off book and no two actors do it the same way. Getting off book means the actor is ready to put down their script and run scenes from memory.

A script to an actor is like a child’s blanket or pacifier. With it in hand, we are confident that we know what to say, when to say it, and where to move on stage. All in the same breath, we’re limited by the script. We can’t really suspend disbelief when we’re still on book. Our characters don’t have a chance to really develop when there’s a script in our hand.  

No two scripts are alike after they are passed out. We all have our favorite highlighter color, different ways of marking stage directions, and so on. I don’t highlight my character name, but I do highlight my entire line, while some just highlight just their character’s name where it appears in their script. I prefer a super bright yellow, while others prefer pink, orange, blue, or green. I actually draw little stick figures in the margins of my script and diagrams that look like football plays. I write down weird words or thoughts.

By this point in the rehearsal process, my script is almost always warped with water stains, covered in ink and pencil, and basically a wrinkled mess. My script looks like a scary dark corner of my brain. I love my script. It’s comforting. It’s mine. And it’s always painful when the stage manager or director tells you it’s time to get off book. Off book means letting go of your road map and trusting yourself to know where to go. Going off book sometimes feels like driving without GPS in a large city you visited once as a kid – you kind of know where you’re going, but it’s a big unfamiliar place.

To get off book, I will sometimes write my lines over and over until I can see them in my head. Or, I will record my cue lines and play the recording back while I run my own lines live. My daughter indulges me on my nights off from rehearsal and runs lines with me. But just like our scripts, no two processes are alike. Some shows are harder to get off book for than others. Heathers has been mostly challenging for me musically since singing at my desk during the day isn’t really an option. (If you know the show, you’ll know why. If you don’t know the show, come see it. We open November 5^th!)

I never fully give up my script. I’ll study it every day and every night before we perform. Sometimes, I even review it during a show to help me stay focused.

The first time you run a scene without a script in your hand it feels like ice skating for the first time. You’re wobbly. You’re unsure of yourself. You have a weird scared feeling in your gut. You struggle to remember your cues. There’s a lot of distractions when you finally look up at the world. You want your script! But, thankfully, after running a scene a few times off book, your stage ankles get stronger. You find your balance. And, suddenly, you’re gliding along without a care in the world. This is when the real work begins. Where connections are made. Where real feelings emerge on stage. This is why we do live theatre – for the thrill of performing in front of an audience. And you can’t achieve that high without getting off book first.

Last night, we ran Act II for the first time off book. Was it scary? Um. Yeah. Was it fun? Hell, yes! Were there moments when you saw flashes of brilliance? Absolutely. Are we ready for an audience? No. Not even close. But, I can tell you this: if last night was any indication of what this show can be, watch out Santa Barbara. Here comes Westerberg!