30 posts tagged “chicago”
The reviews are in and it appears that we pulled it off!
Time Out enjoyed us. Though I'm still trying to figure out what he means by "unexpectedly winning". Did he see my name on the cast list just assume that I was going to be my usual, expectedly loosing self? Maybe he means the character? I'm not going to give it too much thought though. It's the sort of thing that can keep you awake nights.
The Reader had nice things to say as well. As did New City.
The one naysayer in the batch was the Loyola Phoenix. Even though it's a bad review of the show, it is some fine collegiate writing. It is also obvious that this particular "critic" has a very strict vision of what theater is and how it is to be performed. I don't want to spoil it for you, but I promise, you won't be disappointed.
Of course, if you'd like to form your own opinion there's still plenty of time. We don't close until December 22nd. (There are no shows next week for Thanksgiving.)
Spukt opened on Friday to lots of laughter and applause. Two sounds that are most welcome at a comedy.
I'm very relieved that the show is open and we're no longer tinkering with the script. Or, well, um, at least not massive chunks of it. There are still lines and moments here and there that get discussed after every show. But I'm sure that will settle down soon and we'll get into a nice rhythm. Knock on wood.
Friday night was our first night with full costumes and tech and whatnot and, of course, we had five reviewers in the house. It was a sold out show, with lots of friends, so that helped. They laughed in all the right places and even applauded a few moments that were particularly inspired. Seriously, it's worth the admission price just to see David Kodeski milk every possible second out of Napoleon's death scene.
But if you're not into super-glazed ham on your stage, perhaps I can tempt you with a little fox.
There's a lot to be entertained by in this show. A little something for everyone. I add plenty of ham and cheese to the offerring. While Diana Slickman, Guy Massey, David Kodeski and Rachel Claff do yoeman's work wringing out the funny from just about every possible moment.
Come see it, won't you? And then stick around and let me know what you thought about it. I'm really interested to know what this show looks like, having no director and all.
The show I've been rehearsing, Spukt, opens next week. At least that's the plan. To say that this show has been "troubled" would be putting it mildly. When I came aboard in July the script had already gone through a few revisions and between that day and this there have been many, many more. It's as if the script were one of those zen, sand gardens and we keep moving shit around to see how it looks. Last night even, we were cutting lines and adding new ones. No wonder I'm having trouble getting off book.
Don't get me wrong, it's been an enjoyable time for the most part. I've thoroughly enjoyed my fellow castmates and can't remember a rehearsal process where I've laughed as much. At times I've felt like we were only there to crack each other up. I wish every show could be this much fun.
Where things tend to get a little dicey is during those rehearsals when we have "outside eyes". You see, Theater Oobleck doesn't use a director, so most of the rehearsals have been us five actors running through the scenes and doing our thing. We give each other notes, discuss certain parts here and there and keep going. But once we get to a certain point in the process, it helps to have someone not so closely involved watch the rehearsals and give us a little feedback. Or so the theory goes.
But it's hard not to get defensive about these well-intentioned notes. After all, some of these people have never even read the show and are seeing it for the first time. How dare they give me a note about what my character does or does not want. Also, without having a "leader", aka director, it feels like you should take every note that comes your way, which can be confusing, especially when two people see the same moment from different angles. You have to learn to pick and choose. Or completely ignore.
In the end, though, I hope we've created an entertaining evening of theater. There will be live music. (I have two brief moments of singing.) Lots of running around. And, hopefully, lots of laughter. There's a small blurb about us in the upcoming issue of American Theater Magazine (with a photo of yours truly.)
We open at the Viaduct next Friday, November 9. If you'd like to come to a preview Wednesday or Thursday (and be an Outside Eye.) let me know and I'll give you the details. $12 dollar suggested donation "More if you got it, free if you're broke." You can't beat that. So come on out and see what we've been working on. I'd love to hear what you think of it.
You can see this show for free on Sunday if you're an industry type. Just get to the Cultural Center by 2:45 and say "Industry" when you get to the box office. And then prepare yourself for a show unlike anything you've ever seen before. Well, unless you see a lot of Dada-ist theater. It's a very enjoyable, entertaining, magical show. And it's free this Sunday. Go.
I checked out a rehearsal for WNEP's next DADA show, Blinde Essel Hopse (Blind Donkey Hopscotch), on Saturday. I've never seen a DADA show before, so I wasn't exactly sure what I was getting in to. I'm not going to "review" it because I was taking pictures and when I'm behind the camera I tend to tune everything else out. So while I can tell you that the show looks really cool, I don't think I could do it justice trying to tell you what it's about. Never the less, if the images are any indication, you need to get your kiester to the Cultural Center this Friday night.
Last night I dreamed that I was watching Steve Martin walk through a mall doing a bit about a lost purse. It was amusing stuff made all the funnier because no one else seemed to recognize him. I approached him and we began talking about movies and I noticed a three-ring binder that he was carrying that seemed to be made of wood with a bird of some sort carved into the front cover. It startled me, I tell him, because I had created a binder just like that one but had misplaced it years ago. He tells me that he doesn't remember where he found it, but it is now the binder in which he keeps all of his most sacred ideas. The next thing I know we're sitting in a restaurant, flipping through the binder and discussing a new idea that he's working on and I'm asked to help him. For some reason, I can't recall now, I got up and went outside as this amazing storm rolled across the sky. The clouds seemed to tumble over each other like an avalanche, everything getting darker and darker as the winds kicked up. Somewhere in my mind I remind myself that storms in dreams signify change. I went back inside, excited for the new changes that were headed my way that Steve and I were good chums and somehow managed to spill soda all over the table, which I tried to clean up while Steve wasn't looking...
And then I woke up.
I don't dream about celebrities a lot. In fact, I would say that other than Steve Martin, I have had very few dreams about celebrities. But for some reason, Steve pops up again and again. It's not surprising really. He something of a role model, I guess. But the dreams are almost always the same. Or rather, the plot of the dreams is always the same, since the settings are different each time. But in these dreams, I wind up seeing Steve somewhere, I introduce myself and begin chatting about writing or movies or what have you and before long we are laughing and carrying on like old friends. Then I wake up. At first I'm excited by the dream, but slowly a sense of sadness creeps into my heart as I realize that the excitement I felt wasn't real, but a dream and I am not best friends with Steve Martin.
Theater of the subconscience. But what do they mean? I suppose they mean whatever I want them to mean, but I wish there was some hard and fast rule on this. With my luck though, it would be something like, "Dreams don't mean anything. They are a series of electronic pulses in the brain designed to relieve stress while our bodies recharge for the next day." That would just take all the fun out of it. All the magic. That feeling that our dreams are trying to tell us something about ourselves. Maybe a glimpse into the future or a warning.
So the storm forbodes change. I did recently request that my hours be reduced at the law firm so that I could spend more time writing and taking photographs. And Steve Martin is someone I look up to. Someone I aspire to be like. So maybe he was me in the dream. A future me, if you will. And that's the reason I feel like I know him so well.
OR
Maybe I am destined to meet him and my subconscience is just trying to prepare me so I don't act like a total spaz when it finally happens.
OR
Maybe I shouldn't have drank a bunch of cider on an empty stomach and then chased it down with a couple of slices of cheddar cheese.
I'm going to go with the first scenario. But my fingers are crossed for number two.
P.S. If you're looking for a good flick to check out soon, go see Hot Fuzz. Simon Pegg, Nick Frost and Edgar Wright know how to make a damn funny, smart, entertaining movie.
It is done. The run is over. The set has been removed; flats taken down, furniture moved out, walls painted and repainted and then painted again for good measure.
I have mixed feelings about endings. I always do. Watching the final show on Saturday night wasn't easy. As much as I resisted taking this show from my imagination into a space with real people who had ideas of their own, I came to love this show and really enjoyed watching it.
Sure there were things that made me sigh. (No, it wasn't the ad-libs that began popping up. Though stopping mid-line to add your own, then trying to finish the scripted line just makes us both look like we don't know what we're doing.) More and more I began to see the things I wish we had more time to work on. Much of it inspired by the way the actors came at the lines that I hadn't noticed before myself. A moment that I always thought of as a "throw-away" that was given a little weight suddenly made me see another avenue for the scene that could have made it a little richer. Lines that just didn't work. Scenes that were too long or too short. I might take another crack at the ending.
I might never have seen these things if the play had stayed on my desktop. For that I am grateful to the cast and crew for all their hard work and dedication. Thank you Mercedes, Dietrich, Zoe, Joe, Becky, Emily, Sean, Sarafina, Hattie, Jehan, Liz, Alicia, Erin R., Erin O., Dehlia, Jamie, Graham, Brian, Dianna, Amy, Steve, Dan and Dan. Thanks, too, to Speaking Ring for taking a chance on a new play. This really was a dream come true.
And thanks to you, too, Gentle Reader. I don't know what the future holds for this blog. It was started with the intention of keeping a record of the show in progress. Now that the show is over I'm not sure how I feel about being a blogger. Maybe I'll shift the focus on to something else as an excuse to keep coming back here. Though these internets are chock so full of interesting places that I don't know if I'd be able to keep up. Plus, there are already a good many Chicago playwrights working the blog angle. I guess we'll have to wait and see.
But thanks for coming along. I'll be sure to let you know when the next adventure arises.
Well. Here we are. Closing week. Three more shows and then these characters will return to the confines of my imagination. Hopefully they've expended enough energy and won't be so restless that they keep me awake nights. I've got other things I need to be working on.
But I'll miss this show when it closes. It really is a lot of fun to watch. I think there are plans to tape it this weekend, so I suppose I can watch it any time I want. But judging from the layer of dust that sits on all the other show tapes that I have, it seems unlikely that I will. Of course, the shows that I've been in that were taped weren't always worth watching to begin with.
If you're out there and you haven't seen the show yet (my ego is assuming that people other than the cast read the blog) come check it out this weekend before it's too late. And don't try to use the "I'll borrow the tape off of you" excuse either, because I'll be charging a $20 rental fee. You can make a reservation by calling (312) 458-9374. Bring your friends. Bring your neighbors. Grab people off the street and bring them. And just to make it fun, if you mention the title line of this blog entry, I'll get you in the door for $10. Feel free to pass it on.
The show's been open now for a couple of weeks and it feels like there's nothing left to do. Which is an odd feeling. Because there for a while, there was a lot to do. Now it's just the actors doing the same show again and again while I get to try and resume some semblance of normal day-to-day life. Whatever that is.
My parents saw the show over the weekend and, I think, they liked it. They laughed quite a bit. But I'm sure it was odd for them to watch this play where so many names and references were familiar. We're not big sharers in my family either, so I'm sure some of it was eyebrow-raisingly interesting. Espcially the fact that their son seemed to have had a nasty habit of sweeping women off their feet and then dumping them on their asses.
It was interesting to watch it with them. It was the first time in a quite a long time that I thought "Oh yeah. This is my life here." I found myself getting choked up at different spots too as the real memories came back to me to replace the staged versions that I've grown accustomed to. The stuff about my grandfather really got me.
I was a sophomore in high school when he died, and even though he'd been through many cancer operations I still wasn't prepared for him to go. I had the luxury of growing up a bike's ride away from my Grandparents and, as kids, my brother and sister and I would spend countless hours at their house. He was one of those grandpas who loved to teach you things and let you do things that other grownups wouldn't. Like drive a tractor or shoot a BB gun or start a fire to burn the trash. In that way he felt more like a best friend. And at 16 I just wasn't equiped emotionally to deal with loosing him. For a long time after he died, I would talk to him while I watched the stars. Whenever a one would fall from its perch and streak across the sky I knew that was his was of telling me that he was listening and that he was still with me. And yes, there was a moment, after walking a girl home from a bar, that I saw a giant shooting star and asked her what she was doing for the rest of my life. She turned out to be nuttier than a bag of trailmix and I'm glad I got away. But I'm also glad to have had that experience. We've become a very cynical society, but there's something about seeing a shooting star while you're walking, hand in hand, with a lover that will make you think the gods are smiling on you every time.
At one point, I had written a scene between Nathan and his grandfather, where Nathan was watching The Persiad Meteor Shower and trying to remember what they used to talk about. It sort of established Nathan's fear of letting people in, and maybe, had I left it in, people would have liked him better, but in the end, it just seemed a little too sacchriney. Also, it was the only time any other male showed up on stage. Maybe I'll have to revisit it? Maybe have the Leader talk to Nathan about it?
As for the play, we have two weeks left and it would be nice to get a house bigger than six. We've had a couple of Fridays and Saturdays that were nicely attended, but I'm sure the actors are getting tired of performing to empty chairs every Sunday. I'm sure there are lots of factors that play into this; the reviews, warmer weather, location. But I can't help but feel responsible. And maybe a little like I've let everyone down. Not only is it my play they're bashing in the reviews, it's my play based on my life. But, I suppose, if you're gonna get baptised by fire, this is probably the best way to go about it.
Not that I want you to feel sorry for me, mind you. After all, I did have a play that I wrote produced. There are plenty of playwrights that would kill their mothers for such an opportunity. That's one of the many reasons you should be weary of playwrights actually. That and the fact that anything you say to them could, one day, wind up in something that they've written.
Though my father will be quick to point out that he never said he'd give his left nut for an office job. Which, incidentally, was the one line my parents laughed the hardest at.
Another day another review. This one is from Time Out:Chicago, so it must be legit. Or carry more weight. Or be "right". Right? I don't think so.
I'm all right with people not enjoying this show. You can't please all the people all the time, or something like that. What I can't seem to wrap my mind around is why the critics seem so hard on it, yet the majority of paying customers seem to enjoy it and even relate to it. I mean, I have my theories, which is what one does to occupy the mind so it doesn't dwell on all the negatives.
Like the theory that the reviewers are just bitter writers who felt the show hit a little too close to home for their liking. I mean, Ms. Daly holds a PhD in English Lit, yet she's reviewing storefront theater for a living. And then she has to sit through a show about a writer who never seems to write anything. Ouch. And Mr. Williams, who's grandmother took him to see a touring production of Peter Pan when he was a little boy, I'm sure he didn't identify with anything in the show either.
But that sort of talk is just my knee-jerk reaction to reading what these people have written. I want to defend myself. I want to defend the show. Come on Ms. Daly, Nathan doesn't quote Shakespeare "a lot". He does it once. Maureen, on the other hand seems to using the Bard's lines every time she opens her mouth. And it isn't done in an effort to come off as "deep", but rather to rekindle a connection that she shared with Nathan. But to understand that you would have to, well, pay attention to the show.
What's funny is that as I was reading this review, my friend Katie called to tell me how much she and her companion "loved the show" on Sunday. Now, I know that friends are often times not the best critics, but I also trust my friends to tell me the truth about how they feel about something. Katie is a writer herself and understands that empty compliments don't help anyone. Of course, she's also an actress, so maybe she was playing the part of someone who loved a show, but I doubt it. She had brought a friend with her who isn't necessarily a frequent theater-goer, and he too enjoyed himself quite a bit. He even mentioned that the show seemed to really capture what "being a guy" is like.
This is where I think people start to part ways when it comes to liking this show. Nathan isn't the most flattering of characters. He's afraid of just about everything in his life and is afraid to do anything to change it. He's someone who just goes with the flow and hopes not to rock the boat. I have a sneaking suspicion that there are a lot of Nathans in this world. So people who see themselves in Nathan begin to feel uncomfortable. And not being used to dealing with their feelings, they supress them and get mad at the show for not providing an escape from their lives, but rather reminding them of their own shortcomings.
Now, are there aspects of the show that I will change once it closes? Yes. This is the first production and you are always going to see things on the stage that don't work that weren't visible on the page. But it will mainly be cutting lines and making the show tighter. I won't be changing the tone or revamping any of the characters. Nathan isn't likable and he isn't supposed to be. He's a douchebag. But guess what, we all are at different times in our lives. This just happens to be a moment in his that we all get to witness. Does that mean it's bad theater? Just the opposite. It's theater that asks you to feel something, even if you don't like that feeling, and see where it takes you. It's the kind of theater that, as an audience memeber, I am drawn to more and more. Something that's going to make me squirm in my seat. Something that's going to make me think. Am I saying that this show will change your life and make you a better person? Maybe, just maybe, it will.
But then again, what do I know? I only have a Minor in English Lit.
