How I Prepare for an Acting Role (Without Overthinking It)

I don’t do much on paper. At least not in the beginning.

When I prepare for a role, I usually start by sitting with it - quietly. I don’t try to “solve” the character. I don’t map out their childhood, or their Myers-Briggs type, or what kind of coffee they drink. I just try to listen for something real. Something simple. Something that tells me who they are when they’re not performing for anyone.

A still from Born Evil.

A lot of preparation methods are about building - adding layers. For me, it’s often about removing noise.

I try to understand how she moves through the world. Does she hesitate? Is her voice used to being heard? Is she waiting for someone to notice her, or does she prefer to go unnoticed?

That tells me more than a timeline ever could.

When I get a script, I read it a few times all the way through. No notes. I don’t highlight anything. I just try to feel the rhythm. What kind of world is this? What kind of silence lives here? How does the character interrupt that silence?

I start to hear her voice after a while. It usually doesn’t sound like mine - even when it’s close. There’s a different breath behind it. A different kind of stillness.

Sometimes I’ll sketch something - not of her, necessarily, but something she might notice. A piece of wallpaper. A shape in a window. It helps me find her point of view without trying too hard. That’s what I’m after, really - not “acting” but attention.

By the time I’m on set, I like to be light on my feet. I don’t want to be locked in. I want to respond. I want to take in the other person, the lighting, the energy of the room. Acting, for me, doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It happens between people. Even when you’re alone.

A quiet moment in preparation. Sometimes the work begins in stillness.

There are actors who bring binders full of research. I respect that. But it’s never been my way. I don’t want to carry too much with me. I want to leave room for the unknown - for the director to shift the tone, or for a scene partner to throw me something unexpected. I like that.

So much of the work happens without words. In the breath between sentences.(I wrote more about this kind of presence and process here.) In the moment your eyes adjust to someone else’s.

That’s the space I prepare for.

And that’s where I want to live when the camera rolls.

📌 More of my recent work: www.livhansen.net/recent-work