March 06, 2003 | 9:11 PM

Tonight I had a rare night to myself. It was wonderful. I love nights to myself, as long as they only happen once in a great while.

I took myself out for a burger at the Green House and I read the new Vanity Fair (meh�not as hott as it ought to be) and studied my script�started writing my character�s backstory.

Then I decided to go to the movies. I saw The Hours. I know I know� I haven�t read the damned book yet (though I did read Mrs. Dalloway so I�m not THAT much of an uneducated twat.) But when it comes down to it anyway, I�m much more of a film/theater person than I am a books person, though I do love books. But I love them the way you might love a very charming and eccentric friend you have over for dinner once a month, whose arrival you plan for and anticipate, but around whom you would feel antsy for longer than an evening. I love movies and theater the way I�d love a man who I can�t stop thinking about�who I want to go to bed with every night. It�s viscerale and all enveloping. There�s a distance for me with literature (though not poetry, because it�s structured in the same way I think�if not necessarily in terms of style than most definitely in terms of intent) The fluidity and intimation of the marriage between visual images and great acting�what can be suggested by a look or a movement�that means everything in the world to me. I always watch movies most of all for the performances, second for the writing, and third for the cinematography. (Obviously they all are integral to one another, but if you really break it down, that�s where it stands. Just like most people have a favorite child even if they love all of them. You never love everything �equally.�)

The acting in The Hours was inspiring. I am always fascinated when an actor can disappear into a role. By which I don�t mean that they become less of themselves, but rather strip down to the bare bones of human experience�clear away all ego and tics of personality to find what is the essential soul of mankind, and use that to breathe real life into someone else�s ego and personality tics. Infusing the collection of details we call persona with something intangible yet palpable.

Nicole Kidman was astoundiung. There was so much detail in her performance. The way she walked, her upper body pointing at ever so slight an angle as if she were prepared to fall forward at any moment. The lower register of her voice ever so steady yet frought with a tension as though it were a dam about to crack against of flood of pain. The frailty and stoicism she embodied in her physical presence that would be so suddenly and drastically interrupted by some passionate movement, her limbs like hummingbird wings flapping unintentionally for a frame or too before settling at her sides. The way her pen scratched upon the paper as she wrote, like she was scratching at her own skin, trying to peel it back and free her own blood and guts.

She was god damned fucking masterful.

One thing that we�ve been doing in rehearsal which I love, is talking through all the songs as though they are dialogue. Because there is such subtext in the music of Cabaret�it�s really not about people bursting into tune suddenly just because the composer happened to write a delightful melody. Each song is a divine exposition of character. And we talk them through and talk about the moment in the song where a character comes to some resolution or realization. The songs are like Shakespearean soliloquies. Every song that my character sings has to do with her coming to some kind of decision-- having some argument with herself, and the exploration of that tension�playing out that fight, seeing what triumphs and what must be sacrificed is truly exhilarating.

Finding the truth in a character, learning to think the way that person thinks�it�s just the most empowering experience ever. It makes me feel whole.

And I love watching other people do it too.

So yeah�go see The Hours. Nicole Kidman is (improbably enough) my new hero.

(Everyone else was really good too)