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So you don't like Shakespeare. (Why That's Okay - and Why It Still Matters for Actors)


Sad Shakespeare.
Sad Shakespeare.

Shakespeare is a massive puzzle. Trust me—if you’re not totally vibing with him at first glance (or even your tenth), you are not alone. In fact, I believe that kind of hesitation is the only truthful first response.

Even actors who have performed Shakespeare for decades are still looking up hundreds of words every time they take on a play. It's just part of the process.

So why do Shakespeare at all?If these plays are so old, so hard to understand, and you could just go home and watch White Lotus instead—why in the world should actors still bother with Shakespeare?

Why is every serious actor expected to love him?



You Don’t Have to Love Shakespeare to Be a Great Actor

Here’s the thing: As your acting coach, I don’t expect you to love Shakespeare. Not even a little.

I love actors who are honest—honest about what they care about, what they're excited by, and what truly drives them. The worst thing you can do is shut off your real response just to fit in with other actors or to sound “classically trained.”

So go ahead and roll your eyes at the hype around Shakespeare. Be honest about it. Let’s start there.

But, with that being said—there will be times when Shakespeare is part of the conversation in your acting career:

  • Maybe you’re auditioning for an MFA program. Most of them require a Shakespeare monologue.

  • Maybe you land a role on a prestige TV show that draws from King Lear or Macbeth, and you’re working opposite Brian Cox, who casually references Shakespeare in rehearsal.

  • Maybe you get your first professional credit in a Shakespeare play. It’s a classic actor rite of passage.

I don’t need you to agree that Shakespeare was the greatest English-language playwright—or even the greatest writer—of all time. But the same way a great musician might study a genre they don’t personally love, actors need tools to work with Shakespeare. Because the work will show up. And you want to be ready to meet it.


Where to Start When You Don’t Like Shakespeare (But Want to Be Ready)

So how do you begin working on Shakespeare—even if you’re not enthusiastic about it?

You start in the same place we do with any acting material: the circumstances.


One of my past teachers, Steven Skybell (a Broadway actor and a total Shakespeare devotee), always says:

“Shakespeare is a little bit history, a little bit psychology, and a little bit sleuthing.”

I love that—and I like to translate that idea into contemporary actor terms.


History in Shakespeare = The Character’s Circumstances

When we talk about history in Shakespeare, we’re really talking about circumstances. That includes both the world the character is living in, and the world the playwright was writing from.

Was this character based on a real person? Are they part of a royal family, a soldier in a war, or someone navigating deep personal tragedy during a particular time in history?

The work we do to understand a character’s circumstances in Shakespeare is no different than what we’d do if we were playing Mark Zuckerberg in The Social Network. You have to ground the text in something specific, even when it’s poetic. Without those circumstances, the moment won’t land truthfully.


Psychology in Shakespeare = Wants, Obstacles, and Actions

When we talk about psychology in Shakespeare, we’re doing our usual actor homework:

  • What does my character want?

  • Who are they talking to?

  • What’s in the way of getting what they want?

And here’s the cool part: Shakespeare will surprise you. When you really dig in, you’ll find moments where Shakespeare prefigures Freud, prefigures Jung, prefigures hundreds of years of psychological theory. His characters are often unflinchingly honest about what they want—and what they’ll do to get it.

He gives us language that reveals exactly who these people are. And when we bring modern psychological analysis to these roles, it opens up a world of nuanced, character-driven performance.


Sleuthing in Shakespeare = The Language Itself

Now we get to sleuthing—probably the most misunderstood and least-loved aspect of Shakespeare acting. And I get it. For many actors, “sleuthing” means:Ugh, I have to look up every word just to figure out what’s going on.

But it’s also where the magic is.

Yes, part of this is looking up words like haggard. (Did you know it originally referred to a wild hawk or falcon?) I’m nerdy enough to love that. I mean, how wild is it that you can speak a word from 400 years ago, and if you do your job right, the audience will get it? That’s theatre magic.

But the real power of sleuthing isn’t in the vocabulary—it’s in the clues Shakespeare planted for the actor. Just like a great opera singer reads musical phrasing to find their emotional cues, Shakespeare actors can read his rhythm, structure, and pronoun choices for hidden emotional and tactical direction.

Let me show you one simple—but powerful—example.


Acting Tip: What “Thy” vs. “You” Tells You About Your Character

Shakespeare uses thy/thee and you/your in different moments. Most actors assume thy sounds more formal, more old-fashioned, maybe even more respectful.

But that’s actually not true.


In Elizabethan English, “thy” and “thee” imply real intimacy—a closeness between the speaker and the person they’re addressing.“You” and “your” are more formal, more distanced.

What an amazing acting clue that is! Let’s look at how it plays out in The Merchant of Venice.

When Portia confesses her love for Bassanio and offers herself to him fully, she says:

You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand, | Such as I am: though for myself alone | I would not be ambitious in my wish | To wish myself much better; yet, for you | I would be trebled twenty times myself.

Even in this raw, generous moment, she uses you. Not “thee.” This formality could be a clue about her emotional armor. Maybe she’s leaning on courtly language because she’s afraid to be too vulnerable. Maybe she’s reminding herself of her public role as a prize to be won. Maybe she’s protecting herself.

Now contrast that with the courtroom scene, where Portia—disguised as a lawyer—speaks directly to Shylock, famously so:

The quality of mercy is not strained. | [...] It is an attribute to God himself; | And earthly power doth then show likest God’s | When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, | Though justice be thy plea, consider this: | That in the course of justice, none of us | Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy, | [...] I have spoke thus much | To mitigate the justice of thy plea, | Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice | Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.

Notice the shift. She addresses Shylock as “Jew”—a term that today reads as deeply offensive—but then switches to the intimate thy and thou.

Why?

Is she trying to show equality? To appeal to his humanity? Or is she mocking him with faux intimacy? Up until now, she’s used you with both Shylock and the Duke. So this choice means something. It gives the actor fuel. It helps you play something.

When History, Psychology, and Sleuthing Align…

Suddenly, Shakespeare stops feeling like homework. It becomes a blueprint for understanding humanity. A treasure map of what makes us who we are—our desires, our fears, our power, our flaws. It's not an accident that the two examples above cut against what we'd assume Portia would do in those circumstances. If we play what he reveals to us fully, the plays become full of conflict, specificity, uniqueness, life.

That’s what we care about as actors. And that’s what makes Shakespeare worth learning, even if you’re not a fan.

Want More Shakespeare Tips for Actors?

If you’re curious about how to unlock more of the hidden directions in Shakespeare’s text—without losing your authentic actor voice—book a coaching session with us at ActingCoachingOnline.com.

Whether you're preparing for MFA auditions, classical theatre work, or just want to demystify the verse, we’ll help you build the tools to bring these plays to life—on your terms.

 
 
 

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