We were lucky to catch up with Eric Hanson recently and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Eric, thanks for joining us today. Can you talk to us about how you learned to do what you do?
I audited my first acting class in early 2013, when I was 41 years old. Back then I was focused on writing, and my plan was to have actors work the scenes so that I could see them “up on their feet’, and then go home and edit the dialogue. But within hours of watching that first class, everything changed. The actors were so good… it honestly scared me. It was a peek behind a curtain, and all the deep work they were doing in real time fascinated me. Watching the late Daniel Foster steer his students toward a deeper honesty, pushing them into vulnerable states and then pulling out of them authentic feelings, that was terrifying yet exciting. And later in the class I was encouraged to cold read a scene, which I reluctantly did. My hands were shaking so much I could barely read my script. I got a few laughs (luckily, it was a comedy, so they were laughing with – not at), and I was immediately hooked. The next day I signed up for that weekly class, as well as another weekly scene study with Michele Condrey, and an ‘Auditioning for Commercials” class with local legend Gail Cronauer. That same day I signed up for an improv class, and contacted Joe Watts through a Craigslist ad to work with me on stage techniques. I mean, if you’re going to do it, then really do it. Plus, I was in my 40’s and felt the clock ticking.
My greatest two fears were: 1) Learning and delivering dialogue honestly, and 2) being in front of a camera.
So every day, as part of my morning routine, I would set up my little camcorder and do work. I would learn about half a page of dialogue and then record myself delivering it. I’d get this dialogue from any number of places: a monologue from a book of plays, a scene from a script I’d find online, or even a quote from a blog or chat post online. I didn’t care where it came from, even if it was reciting directions from a recipe book or a text from a friend. I would give myself 30 minutes to learn it and 30 minutes to tape & review it. Then I’d go about my day. But the main thing to me was being comfortable with other people’s words, and learning the camera isn’t so scary.
Looking back, I wish I’d sought out a scene partner to work with while doing this. At least half of acting is listening, and I was primarily focused on my own delivery. In classes I would tend to wait for my cue and say my lines as I’d rehearsed. It wasn’t until I was in Glenn Morshower’s “Extra Mile” class that it really sank in that one person is responsible for “yellow” and the other actor brings their “blue”, with the ultimate goal of making “green”.
To me, the most essential skill is to really, honestly, understand the scene and be able to metabolize it authentically. That’s why we say to ‘learn’ the dialogue, and not ‘memorize’ it. If you just recite the words you’ve memorized, the camera (and especially the audience) will pick up on that. Nobody will believe you, and you’re missing opportunities with your scene partner. Some of the best moments are not pre-planned, but happen when two people are living in the moment, creating green. Another needed skill that I learned from Glenn is to be specific and make strong choices, while staying true to the scene.
In my opinion, the primary obstacle for most actors is “getting outside of yourself”. Internally we frequently deal with insecurity and self-doubt, and it can be overwhelming. We so badly want to impress others, and we can get stuck just thinking of ourselves. When we focus more on our scene partner – and the scene itself – it frees us up to authentically live in the moment. That’s where the magic happens.
Eric, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
Before acting, I initially wanted to be a writer. Back in 2006, when I was 34, I quit my job in mortgage finance and moved to Chicago to earn my bachelor’s degree in Fiction Writing at Columbia College Chicago. I’d had enough of “chasing the dollar”, and needed to find a creative outlet to focus on. There was, and still is, a great need to create. Something, anything. Even in my 30’s I felt the clock ticking and wanted to leave something behind, a legacy besides some bank account.
In 2010 I graduated from CCC in 3 1/2 years with a 4.0 GPA, which I’m especially proud of. I was never very scholarly, but school was my job and I was determined to get it right. My wife, Tracy, supported me emotionally as well as financially, and I owed it to her to nail this school thing. If you’re going to do something, really do it.
Now, I love school. Or, I should say, I love learning. That’s ultimately what acting is all about, we are constantly learning. We are always discovering what life’s moments mean, and not just within the vacuum of our own daily lives. When we take on a character distinctly different from ourselves and view life from their perspective, we open ourselves to understanding someone we may have previously judged or, worse, ignored. I’ve played a lot of bad guys, and it’s imperative to understand even the most despicable people and give them a voice, otherwise the story won’t work.
And many stories we tell are historically true, so it’s important we get our research right. For example, I worked in the movie “The Challenger Disaster”, telling the true behind-the-scenes obstacles that the engineers faced while trying to stop that fateful launch in 1986. I remember being in 9th grade science class, and the shock of seeing it explode on takeoff. I knew there was a civilian teacher (Christa McAuliffe) onboard, and that’s all I knew. But I had never heard that there was a team of engineers who lobbied to delay that launch due to the cold weather, and I definitely never heard anything about o’rings or how cold weather could limit their ability to work. So when researching this event, and learning the mind of an engineer, that was a full-on class.
From time to time I actually teach (or coach, rather) other actors. It’s not something that I sought out to do, but when it came up I saw it as an opportunity to learn more, myself. I once heard, “the best way to learn is to teach”, so I jumped into that pool’s deep end, too. My first classes were at Ft. Worth Actors Studio, owned by Nathan and D’Lytha Myers. I didn’t have any idea what I was doing, so I “acted” like I did! All I knew was that I wanted to give back to the industry, and I love being part of workshops and training, and the Myers’ are true artists so I was thankful for the chance. A short while later, my friend James Prince, who owns The Core Theatre in Richardson reached out. He was one of the first people to give me a chance in this craft, and taught me so much while I worked in several plays at his theatre. After COVID shut everything down, his playhouse was struggling so I volunteered to hold weekly workshops there. Now, I’m not the best teacher and I’ve still got a LOT to learn, but as it says in Romans 12: “We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift . . . is teaching, then teach.” Well, I don’t know that teaching is my gift, but helping surely is. And if there’s an opportunity to help, then bring it on.
What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?
I had a terrible habit of being “presentational”. I used to really struggle with trying to present the character outwardly as I thought he should look. I still work on this, it’s an unending process. But I’d read in the script that the character is, say, a mobster, so I would behave outwardly as I thought a gangster would. I remember once in a class with I’ce Mrozek I was playing a tough guy. In order to look intimidating I would tilt my head so I could side-eye my scene partner. Ooh, real scary, right? After a few times, I’ce finally stopped the scene and asked, “Why do you keep giving him your ear?” What I thought I was doing actually looked dumb, because it was forced. He taught me that my attempts to look tough just looked like an actor trying to look tough. I learned that day that a badass doesn’t act like one, he is one. So don’t try to look sad, or nerdy, or excited, actually be those things.
Is there mission driving your creative journey?
Enjoying each moment as it happens has never been more important to me. In 2006 I was invited to ride on Harley Davidson’s first ever guided tour of Route 66. It was two weeks of being on the open road, seeing (and feeling, smelling… experiencing) the country on a motorcycle. We signed up for the trip on the day my brother David’s cancer was declared to be in submission; it was to be a celebration. A few days before we were set to head out, David got the news that the cancer was back, so he couldn’t go with me. My wife Tracy had to work and couldn’t go, either. But at their insistence I went alone, and kept my brother’s helmet strapped to my rear seat.
This was after I’d quit my job in finance, and I was scheduled to start college in a few months. The past was behind, and the future was a mystery, I was in limbo at that moment. Being out on the road, in the open air, traveling the country, I had lots of time to just think. Nothing in this life is guaranteed, not even tomorrow. Each moment truly is precious, and we have an obligation to live and really, wholeheartedly experience it in real time. There is an older version of us who’d love to come back and re-live this very moment, so let’s honor the older versions of ourselves and really live it.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.erichanson.net
- Instagram: @erichansonofficial (https://www.instagram.com/erichansonofficial/)
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ehanson9
Image Credits
Barb Jones Photography
Omar Vega
J Gonzalez
Sheldon Maddux
Tall Tales of Jim Bridger
Adam The First
Chasing Hope