We’ve all had those moments of sudden self awareness in life when we realise we are acting out a genuine cliché. Whether it’s coming home from a bad day at work and melodramatically throwing ourselves onto our beds, pacing a room waiting for some important news, or holding our heads in our hands in all-encompassing despair, as actors we often look to such extreme situations for inspiration in future performances.

But do these hackneyed gestures hold any weight with the analytical audiences of modern theatre? Or can they be an alienating influence, breaking suspension of disbelief and reminding spectators that they are in fact watching a fiction, played out on a stage?

In Brecht’s Epic Theatre, a stock gestus such as a fist raised in anger is used as a Verfremdungseffekt [a distancing effect], specifically to achieve this aim. The audience becomes distanced from losing themselves in the character, and is forced to consider the piece and its intentions as a consciously critical observer. Brecht himself would often clarify this by taking photographs in the rehearsal room to be carefully studied by the company, in order to ensure that each tableau clearly reflected the story.

But the agenda has changed in today’s theatre. In Nazi Germany, set against the backdrop of Hitler’s rise to power, Brecht’s intention was to show that human behaviour is a product of its environment, and that significant changes needed to be in made in society – that a capitalist dictatoriship was an untenable mistake for his country. Though his work remains influential, and a vital development in drama history, the jaded theatregoers of today are more in pursuit of a universal truth – we want to see human life on stage, our own behaviour, our relationhips and our capacities reflected back at us.

Brecht’s socialist principles may remain relevant in today’s climate (in fact now more than ever we need to engage and be shaken out of our political and social apathy), but equally vital is an audience’s need to invest and to be transported, if only for two-and-a-half hours in a darkened auditorium.

It is worth considering, then, the ancestry of these sterotypes– surely for these responses to become so common place, they must have a grain of authenticity in them? I’ve paced a few corridors in my time, and I’ve certainly experienced my fair share of melodramatic histrionics. The only cliché-ridden activity I can honestly say I’ve never taken part in is taking a phonecall without saying “hello” or “goodbye” (maybe that’s just an American thing).

When you understand that the root of these platitudinous reactions is often instinctive, such as the urge to throw something in an argument or to slam a door, as an actor you can also enjoy subverting them. Maybe your character wants to smash something but there’s only valuable china on the table, or he is worried about actually hitting someone. Perhaps the energy of despair isn’t always expressed as a downward force, it can take you up and out of your seat, like a wounded animal throwing itself against the side of its cage.

Sometimes, though, with a genuine motivation behind it, a cliché can be the most powerful, relateable human response. Hell, I’m writing this in a dark room, illuminated by the glow of my laptop, stroking my chin when I can’t think of words and periodically rubbing my eyes – if that isn’t the archetype of the mawkish creative then I don’t know what is.

Image by Lloyd Morgan.