I mean, you know, if you were a director working on a play by Chekhov you might have the actors playing the mother, the son and the uncle all sit in a room and do a made-up scene that isn't in the play.. For instance, you might say to them „All right. Let's say that it's a rainy Sunday afternoon on Sorin's estate and you're all trapped in the drawing room together”. And then everyone would improvise - saying and doing what their character might say and do in that circumstance. Except that in this type of improvisation - the kind we did in Poland - the theme is oneself. So, you follow the same law of improvisation which is that you do whatever you impulse, as the character, tells you to do, but in this case, you are the character. So there's no imaginary situation to hide behind and there's no other person to hide behind. What you're doing, in fact, is you're asking those same questions that Stanislavsky said the actor should constantly ask himself as a character. Who am I? Why am I here? Where do I come from and where am I going? But instead of applying them to a role, you apply them to yourself. Or, to look at it a little differently in a way, it's like going right back to childhood where a group of children simply come into a room or are brought into a room - without toys - and begin to play. Grown-ups were learning how to play again. (Andre Gregory as himself in My Dinner with Andre, dir. Louis Malle, 1981)