Here is a repeat of other exercises mentioned earlier, but they are invaluable so I can’t stress them enough:
Find the Intentions
Usually a fight is composed of small groupings of a handful of moves, called a “phrase,” each expressing a certain plan the fighter had in order to make a successful attack. If it’s not obvious from the choreography, make it up. It’s much easier to remember a connected series of eight clear emotional impulses than 153 random individual attacks and parries.
Progressing in Reverse
I have my actors memorize their lines this way too. Start with the last phrase, practicing it until it feels comfortable and memorized. Then add the next-to-last phrase, working it carefully, but always adding the other, already memorized phrase. Then tack on the third-to-the-last phrase, and so on until you have the fight down.
So in a fight that has, let’s say, 15 phrases, you will have worked number 15, then 14-15, then 13-14-15, then 12-13-14-15, and on and on until the fight is polished. Why this way? The part that they have practiced most will be the easiest, and after a while the fight will seem as effortless as rolling down a hill.
No Weapons / Finger Fight
No kidding, the best way to perfect a sword fight is to leave the swords in the props cabinet for several rehearsals. The actors stand much closer than normal and go through the entire fight using just their hands. Fingers should actually reach out and try to touch the intended target (hip, shoulder, head), and the defensive hand merely makes contact with the incoming fingers.
Don’t let them be sloppy on this. Attacks must be focused to the exact square inch, and defenders are not allowed to push the attacks away unless it is part of the choreography. Since the focus is on the finger tips, the intention of attack and defense becomes much clearer and the techniques improve dramatically.
This is the best single way to take someone from novice to expert. Have the actors do this at least once a week and all of the attacks and defenses will become razor sharp.The best way to perfect a sword fight is to leave the swords in the props cabinet for several rehearsals. Actors stand closer than normal and run the fight using only their fingers. Attacks should target exact points (hip, shoulder, head), and defenses make light contact.
Don’t allow sloppiness here. Because the focus is on the fingertips, the intentions of attack and defense become clearer and techniques improve dramatically. This is the single best way to take someone from novice to expert. Do it once a week and the fight will become razor-sharp.
Sit-Down Drill
This is also a perfect way to rehearse when swords aren’t available or when space and time are limited. The hand-work of a sword fight must become second nature to the performers, for it is simply not permissible to have the actors struggle to remember their next moves.
It is a version of the above No Weapons rehearsal, but without using the footwork, and done as quickly as humanly possible. After a while the actors will feel the flow of the pattern, rather than beat out each move like a metronome. The two combatants can always steal 30 seconds here or there, grab two chairs and sit facing each other, and “speed-through” the fight the same way we often do “speed-throughs” for our lines.
Look, Ma’, No Hands
Here is the flip side of the Finger Fight. Go through the fight using all of the footwork but with the arms doing nothing. They can keep them dangling at their sides, crossed in front of their chests, or clasped behind their backs — whatever, because for this exercise they are useless appendages.
Let them call out the attacks so both know where they are in the fight, but the focus here is showing attack and response with the eyes, torso, and hips. They must keep distance, but also “push” their opponent using the force of their intention. This should be done on the actual set if at all possible.
Dropped Parries
This is scary but an excellent way to improve arm control and mental discipline. Go through the fight as normal, with weapons, but one actor (without warning and in no discernible pattern) simply does not make the appropriate defensive move. If the attacker lacks precise control, their partner will get hit.
This drill is particularly useful when actors become too aggressive, lose control of their movements, or start breaking blades. It forces them to prioritize precision over power, ensuring that attacks are always delivered with control and safety in mind.
Unfair Fight
One actor has his sword, the other actor is unarmed. Go through the entire fight at ¾ speed, with the unarmed actor blocking and attacking with forearms and hands. This will show them (and you) if they were striking the blades too heavily.
Water Bottle Drill
Without question the best way to develop controlled cuts that look real. Get a plastic bottle (water, juice, milk), fill it with water and put it on a stool. Have the actors practice full-speed horizontal cuts both right and left. Remind them to snap the cuts (like snapping a towel) with a fully extended arm.
The game is to see how fast they can snap the cut and still touch the bottle — without knocking it off the stool. When that gets easy, have them try it with an empty plastic bottle.
Slide & Steal
Not an all-around exercise for an entire fight, but it helps when working on sharing the energy of the fight using the blades, especially with the lighter rapier swords.
The actors should imagine that there is a fiery ball of energy generated by the character’s intent, which flows down the attacking arm and continues to move down the blade. With each attack, the defender’s sword meets the incoming blade at the foible as normal. Then the defender takes that aggressive intent, “catching the fire” with his blocking sword.
The defender slides his own forte along the aggressor’s blade until it slips off of the tip, as if “stealing” the incoming energy. The defender slides the sword towards his own body, so no pushing away of the opponent’s blade is allowed.
This drill also helps establish correct distancing, as it is harder to do the slide if the attacker is allowed to stand too close.
Rope Fight
This is a good exercise (along with Slide & Steal) to use when one of the actors starts “pushing” his defenses, extending the arm toward the attacker or way off to the side as he is blocking. Correcting this has to be done at the earliest fight rehearsals before it becomes an unbreakable habit.
Have the actors put aside the weapons and give them a three-foot length of rope. Each actor holds onto one end, and then they run the entire fight. The only rule is that the rope has to be taut at the end of each move. Of course, the only way to do that is to pull the defending arm back towards the defender.
After just a few runs, the “pushing” blocks disappear. Remind the actors that the defender should let the rope go slack during the beginning of each corresponding attack, even let the center touch the ground, so long as it is tight at the completion of the block.
Chase ’em Down
There are times when the fight seems memorized and understood, but has no heart, no passion. Often this is because one actor feels disconnected to the idea of sword fighting.
Find an open area without any obstacles (I like a good-sized grassy field at least three times the size of the performance stage) and let the actors reach for the other during the attacks — not just with the sword, but with the entire body. For each defense, have them run backward to get away.
Except in making sure that the sword tips are safely kept away from each other, don’t worry at all about correcting technique here. Encourage them to take huge leaps or even four or five steps for every attack, with the feeling of blasting their opponent across the field and then running like hell backwards in order to avoid getting hit. This is an aerobic workout that is also a lot of fun.
A True Stage Weapon Story
I once had the joy of playing Macbeth as well as choreographing the fights. For the fight against Young Siward, he had a two-handed broadsword and I used a two-handed axe. Young Siward was played by Johnny Moreno, an accomplished actor and fighter who was my fight captain for this show. He rehearsed all of the other fighters (it was a very physical show) and had even memorized all of the fights. When he and I fought, it was my time to relax, for I had absolute trust in him as a performer and as a combatant. Our fight had a nice sequence of moves which ended with my swinging the axe to his downstage side, which he would block and then bind overhead into a sweet disarm, pulling the axe out of my hands and sending it deep upstage. Then just as he delivers what he thinks is going to be a killing thrust, Macbeth simultaneously deflects the blade with his arms, grabs the sword, does a 180º spin, and reverse-thrusts to kill Young Siward. Extremely cool.
Well, in one performance, Johnny came rushing out to the stage and as he was about to start his first move, his eyes went wide and he slightly but vigorously shook his head as his body stayed still. I knew what it meant instantly – he had forgotten how the fight started. This is perfectly normal and can happen to any actor at any time, no different than going up on your lines. Instead of trying to fake the choreography, I figured that we should just dump the full fight that night and go right to the final sequence. I jumped towards him and got into a corps-a-corps and hissed into his ear “disarm”, then jumped back. His eyes stayed wide; he didn’t understand. So I jumped in again into a corps-a-corps and hissed once more into his ear “disarm”, then jumped back.
Then it clicked. The relief washed over his face as he relaxed and slightly smiled. I stepped in and delivered the downstage swing, which he parried and then bound overhead to upstage. I let go of my axe to see it go safely deep upstage … along with his sword. He had disarmed himself! The look of panic was now on both of our faces as we stood downstage facing each other without any weapons in our hands.
Having not planned for a double disarm and knowing that Young Siward had to die, I ran up to him and did a stomach punch simulation. He instantly dropped to the ground as I ran upstage, grabbed his sword, ran back down, hurriedly stabbed a few times at the floor upstage of his prone body, and then ran back upstage to get my axe as I made my exit.
I mention this as a reminder that even the finest actors will find that strange things occur sometimes. The brain is a funny instrument, and it just happens that on certain nights the moves or the lines are simply not there for a moment. There has never been a show in which at least one actor didn’t go up on his lines, even if only for a second, and the audience never noticed. In the same way, there has never been a stage fight in which at least one combatant didn’t forget at least one of his moves for at least one performance. The important thing to remember is that the audience will never notice – unless you go out of your way to show them that you messed up. Did your attack go to the wrong target? The audience will just assume that it was part of the fight. As long as no one got hurt, who cares? You’ll fix it tomorrow.
The other lesson from the story is that neither of us panicked and tried to force something unilaterally. When Johnny knew that the fight wasn’t in his brain that night, he did the right thing, which was not to fight. But he was so well prepared as an actor and as a fighter that I knew that we could work out a specific unarmed simulation on the fly, and that it would look good, and neither of us would be in danger. This would have been unthinkable if we had not put in hundreds of hours of practice time together. I wouldn’t have attempted it with anyone else.
In moments of stress,
we do not rise to the level of our expectations;
we drop to the level of our training.