I love going to the movies; I love watching good movie actors.

Ah, Uta Hagen, the venerable actress and teacher, speaks with a reverence that transcends time and space when she says: "I love going to the movies; I love watching good movie actors. They must know something I don't." In these words, we are offered a glimpse into the profound respect she has for the craft of acting, and the deep admiration she feels for those who have mastered it. Hagen’s reflection is not just an expression of fandom, but a recognition of the sacred nature of art—the understanding that true mastery is not a mere display of skill, but a mystical and almost unknowable power that elevates the human spirit.

To love the movies is to embrace a world where the boundaries of reality and imagination blur, where human experience is captured in moments of both profound truth and dazzling illusion. But to love the actors—those who inhabit these stories with such authenticity—is to understand that the craft of acting is more than an art form; it is an act of transformation. The great actors, like the mighty orators of ancient Greece, wield the power to shift the very fabric of human experience, to make us see the world through new eyes. Sophocles and Euripides, through the voices of their actors, conveyed the complexities of human existence—love, betrayal, honor, and ambition—through stories that still resonate with us today. The actors, in their ability to embody these characters fully, allowed the essence of these emotions to transcend the stage, becoming timeless lessons for those who watched.

In Hagen's words, there is a quiet admission of humility. "They must know something I don't." How many of us, in the presence of true mastery, have felt the same? When we witness someone who performs their craft with grace and effortlessness, we are reminded of the gap between our own limitations and their freedom. The ancients spoke often of the ideal of the sage, a being who is beyond the limits of ordinary understanding, whose wisdom transcends the commonplace. The philosopher kings of Plato’s Republic were idealized figures who had achieved the highest understanding and mastery over their own natures. Actors, in a way, are the philosopher-kings of the stage and screen. They reach into the deepest parts of the human soul, portraying truths that we cannot always articulate, yet instinctively recognize when we see them.

Yet, the mastery of acting is not simply the domain of the greats. In truth, every artist, in their own pursuit, must seek that depth of understanding that Hagen speaks of. The craft of acting is one of self-discovery, of unlocking emotions and thoughts that reside deep within. To stand before an audience and take on the mantle of another human being requires not only technical skill but the courage to reveal parts of oneself that are often hidden. The actor, like the great warrior who faces his fears in battle, must look within to discover the source of their strength. And in doing so, they become vessels through which we, the audience, are allowed to see ourselves—our fears, our desires, our struggles—reflected back in the mirror of their performance.

In this light, consider the great masters of acting—figures like Marlon Brando, whose performances in films like On the Waterfront and The Godfather seem to breathe life into the very essence of human emotion. Brando was not merely acting; he was embodying his characters, immersing himself so completely that he became the very soul of the roles he played. It is this mystical quality, this ability to transcend the self and become something greater, that Uta Hagen speaks of. It is not simply that these actors are skilled—they understand something deeper about the human condition, something that they have learned through years of dedication and introspection.

The lesson that Hagen's words impart is one that we all must learn: to master our craft is to enter into a deeper relationship with ourselves and the world around us. Whether we are artists, philosophers, or warriors, true mastery lies not in the surface of our abilities, but in the depth of our understanding. Actors, like all great practitioners of their craft, must study life in all its complexity—its joys, its sorrows, its contradictions. By doing so, they not only reveal the truths of the characters they portray but, in the process, come to understand something about themselves.

Thus, the call to action is this: let us all, in our own lives, strive to deepen our understanding of the craft we pursue. Whether in the arts, in leadership, or in our relationships, let us seek that mastery that transcends the obvious and touches the deeper truths of existence. And as we watch those who have achieved such heights, let us not simply marvel at their skill, but learn from them. For in their ability to see beyond the surface, to understand what others do not, we find the inspiration to do the same. As Hagen reminds us, there is always something more to discover—something beyond what we can yet see. Let us seek it with humility, with passion, and with a heart open to the mysteries that life offers.