How do actors cry on cue?

It is one of the first questions people ask when they find out you act, and one of the most anxious ones actors ask each other. The honest answer starts with an awkward truth: there is no button. Actors who cry reliably have usually built a process that makes tears likely, and they have also made peace with the days when the tears do not come.

The other honest truth is that tears are overrated. What an audience responds to is a person under emotional pressure. Sometimes that pressure spills over into tears. Often the most affecting version is the one where it almost does.

Why does trying to cry usually fail?

Because you are pointed at the wrong target. When you try to cry, your attention goes to your face and your eyes: are they wet yet? That kind of self-monitoring is exactly what shuts real feeling down. You tense, you push, and the audience sees an actor trying to cry.

People in real life almost never try to cry. They try very hard not to. They are trying to finish a sentence, to stay polite, to hold it together until the other person leaves. The tears come because of what is happening to them, and often in spite of their effort. That is the clue to the whole craft: aim at the situation, and let the body do what bodies do.

How do actors make themselves cry?

Most actors use a combination of the techniques below. Try each and notice which one your body answers to. Everyone is wired a little differently.

Build the circumstances until they hurt. Start with the script. What exactly has happened, what does it mean to this person, and what will their life look like now? Make it specific. "My father died" is a fact. "He died before I called him back, and his voicemail is still on my phone" is something you can feel. This is given circumstances work, pursued until the stakes are personal.

Use the magic if. Ask what it would mean to you if this were happening. Stanislavski's question puts your imagination inside the character's situation without requiring you to dig up your own past. Many actors find this the most sustainable route; see the magic if for how it works.

Personal substitution. Replace the person or thing in the scene with someone or something from your own life that would carry the same weight. If the scene is about losing a sister, you might quietly think of a friend you would be devastated to lose. Some actors use real losses; many prefer imagined ones ("what if this happened to her?"), which can be just as strong and are easier to put down afterward.

Sense memory. The approach associated with method acting: recalling the physical details of a past moment (the room, the light, a smell, the texture of a sleeve) until the feeling returns through them. It can be powerful. It also carries the most risk, which is covered below.

Find the trigger image. Many actors find that one tiny, concrete detail does more than any amount of general sadness. An object, a phrase someone said, a pair of shoes by a door. Find yours for this scene and keep it private.

Work through the breath. Grief lives in the breath. Let your breathing go shallow and high in the chest, let it catch, let the exhale shake slightly. Often the breath leads, and the feeling follows it. This is a physical way in, and it works for many actors who find imagery unreliable.

Play the fight. Give the character a reason not to cry: they are in public, they refuse to let him see, they have to get through the phone call. Then fight the tears for real. The effort itself often brings them up, and even when it does not, the struggle reads as deep feeling.

What about tear sticks, menthol and other tricks?

They exist, they are common on film and television sets, and there is no shame in them. A menthol tear stick, applied carefully below the eye (never in it) by you or the makeup department, makes the eyes water. Some sets use a menthol blower, which sends a gentle vapor toward the eyes. Glycerin can create a tear track on the cheek for a close-up. When a scene needs tears in take fourteen at four in the morning, these keep the day moving.

Some actors also notice that holding their eyes open without blinking for a while makes them water, or that yawning brings tears up. These can help a real emotion along. On their own, they produce wet eyes and nothing behind them, which is why the inner work comes first.

Why fighting tears often works better than crying

Watch someone sob openly and you may feel for them. Watch someone fight to keep their voice steady while their eyes fill, and you are likely to feel it yourself. The audience's empathy rushes in to fill the gap between what the character is feeling and what they are allowing to show.

Think of the late therapy scene in Good Will Hunting. Sean keeps repeating "It's not your fault," and Will brushes it off, then gets angry and pushes him, and only after all of that resistance does he break down in Sean's arms. The tears land because of how long he fought them.

So even if you can cry easily, check whether the scene wants it. A character who breaks down on line one has nowhere to go. A character who holds it together until the one line they cannot get through gives the scene a shape. Look at what the character wants in the scene, and let the tears be what happens when that want is blocked.

How do you protect yourself when you cry on cue?

Emotional work is real work, and it has a cost. If you use real memories, especially recent or unresolved ones, you can walk off set carrying more than you meant to. A few habits help.

• Use memories you have already processed, or use imagination and the character's circumstances, which you can set down more easily.
• Have a way out: a phrase, a song, a change of clothes, a walk, a conversation about something ordinary. Do it every time, so your body learns the scene is over.
• Ration it. On a long shooting day, save your fullest work for the takes that count, usually your coverage, and do a lighter version for the wide shots and rehearsals.
• Tell someone what you need. A director or first assistant director can give you a quiet minute before rolling. Asking for one is normal.
• Stop if it turns into distress. If a technique keeps bringing up something you cannot put down afterward, that is a sign to change approach and, if needed, talk to someone qualified.

What if the tears just won't come?

Sometimes they won't, even for actors who cry easily. Tiredness, nerves, a cold room or a dozen takes can dry you up. When that happens, do not chase them. Stay in the circumstances, play what the character wants, and let the moment be whatever it is. A take with full commitment and no tears will usually cut better than a take with tears and a stalled scene.

If tears are written into the script and truly required, tell the director early and plan together, whether that is a tear stick, a later setup or an extra minute. Nobody on a professional set expects tears on command every time. They expect you to be honest and prepared.

A practice exercise you can try today

Use a scene built on exactly this problem. In Act 4, Scene 3 of Shakespeare's Macbeth, Ross arrives in England and has to tell Macduff that Macbeth has had his wife and children slaughtered. Macduff hears it in front of Malcolm, the prince whose cause he has come to join, and Malcolm urges him to turn the grief into revenge. The play is in the public domain, so here is the heart of it:

MACDUFF: He has no children. All my pretty ones?
Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop?
MALCOLM: Dispute it like a man.
MACDUFF: I shall do so;
But I must also feel it as a man.

Spend five minutes on the circumstances: Macduff left his family behind to come here, the news reaches him in pieces, and the man beside him is asking for a soldier. Find one trigger image of your own. Then say the lines aloud, fighting to stay steady, and let the fight fail only where it has to. Record yourself and watch it back. Notice what reads: often it is the pauses and the swallows, far more than the eyes. Do this with a few different circumstances over a week, and you will start to learn which doors open for you. For more on the seconds before a scene starts, see the moment before.

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