Focus slowly returns

For the past couple weeks I haven't been fired up for much. Maybe it's a subtler form of post perfomance depression, but it wasn't at all bad. I watched movies, saw friends, got a ton of sleep. I just never really felt the itch to get creative.

For two reasons the juices are flowing. One, the script I've been writing (oh so slowly) has finally been finished. At least the first draft. I've been working on it since November and it's about four months overdue. For the last week I'd been pecking away, promising to write at least four pages but walking away after two. This past week the muse sat down next to me and we cranked out the last twenty five pages in three sittings. Now it's off to the guy I'm working on the story with and we can start hacking away at it.

Finishing the first draft is always a bittersweet experience. You've finally gotten all those pages down. The big push to just get it to the the end is done. Might as well jump. (Jump!) Do a funny dance. Drink something. I did all of these things and more. Then run away from it for a week and read it all back. I promise, it'll be crap. The real work begins now.

Of course, now that I've finished the first draft for this script I have to get into story meetings with the second guy I'm working with. This involves doing a remake of an old movie, obviously can't say which. Where the other script our intention is to raise financing and shoot guerilla ourselves (and the script is tailored to it) this one is a spec script, with some nebulous connection to a NY producer. I never get my hopes up about that kind if stuff, I'm far more interested in writing the script itself.

The second thing that happened was hanging out with the Martin & Silveira boys last night. Apparently I know a little more about wrangling ProTools than they do. I've been banging my head against it longer. Ran into the boys at the watering hole at the beginning of the week and they asked me to stop by. Had a great time listening to, discussing, and playing music.

My batteries are recharged.

Juno - and my reaction to it.

So recently the lady friend and myself set up on the couch to watch the courageously hip, Academy Award winning indie flick Juno. Allow me to offer my thoughts.

In the first fifteen minutes my hair blew back like the Maxell commercial from the tidal wave of hipness I was encountering. Every second, every word of this movie is a mathematically precise example of chock-full-o'-hip. The soundtrack crawled out of the speakers in its indie-unwashed-tattooed-protesting way and hung out right next to your left ear to say, "See?! We're
HIP GODDAMMIT!" In complete defiance of the fact that teenagers don't speak that way, that parents are never that cavalier about their children mouthing off in that way, ("I should smack her for saying that, but it's just so witty and clever.") Juno never breaks stride. I thought this was going to be a long trip.

From minutes fifteen to thirty, I watched with my mental arms crossed. I decided I hated this girl. I hated the boy who knocked her up. I hate the adoptive family. I am watching just to keep watching to keep my street cred up. (I have a policy of finishing almost every movie I start to watch, notable exception to this rule is Freddie Got Fingered, horrible.) Most of all I hated myself for seeing Diablo Cody accept the Oscar for best screenplay and know deep in my heart what this movie was going to be, but still wanting to believe.

After minute thirty something strange happened. I grew a callous over my over-hip sensor, immune to the pop-culture references delivered wryly and self-congratulatory. The acting went from brash and masturbatory to actually being characters that interact. Bateman I liked, personally I think he delivered one of the hardest roles, not because he was the coolest or most heroic, but because he was believable, completely.

(On one note of pop-cult reference I liked, this movie does have the best reference to 80's after school cartoons I've ever seen.)

In the end, I had to like it. I realized, again, that movies aren't supposed to be real life, they're only going for verisimilitude. I know why the 50-to-80 year olds who make up the Academy loved the S.P., they have no idea how false it is.

Oh, and the soundtrack that drove a pick in my ear? I can't stop listening to it. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

The Final Chapter of the Insanity

(I promise I've been working on this for a while.)

I'm trying to wrap my head around this one.

The end is bittersweet, sometimes more one than the other. I'm really glad to get my life back. It's funny how everything else just seems to stop for a while when I'm in the run of a show. At the same time, I'm usually incredibly depressed for a few days after knowing it's all over. Any actor can tell you about post-show depression. Just ask them.

This time around, I'm not. I'm exhausted, that's for sure. Even without a rip roaring party at the end of the run, I still managed to sleep til almost two in the afternoon Sunday. Monday, pretty much the same.

But I feel okay with letting McMurphy wander his merry way off my path. Being him was definitely like slipping into a well made suit, (Friends comparisons: "He's a hard partying wiseass who bristles at authority, REAL stretch.) but for some reason this time I feel no need to cling to it. Together we said all we wanted to say, and we bounced on a high note. How many times in your life do you get to say that? Maybe I'm becoming more mature about it, or maybe it's that I have so many other things to turn my energy back to. Either way, I finish this chapter with new friends, came full circle on a few personal issues, and got to play one of the best characters written.

I feel we accomplished something that hasn't happened in the area for a long time. We put on a show that no one really thought could be done, or done very well at best. We had a pretty drama-free (offstage) run from casting through to strike. People came out to see it, people that usually don't do thea-tuh. We had huge crowds who were incredibly interactive. For two weeks we became a small spot on the area map. The show brings out quite a few generations who are all interested in seeing it. You can take that attendance as a given, but the second weekend obviously told us we were doing more than 'putting it on'.

I wanted to write some of the things that were said to me after the show, but I just realized how incredibly arrogant that is. A lot of people said a lot of nice things, and people I've never met made it a point to stop and say hi. I was very grateful for their praise.

There were a ton of funny 'woops' moments during production, I think these moments are the ones we actors remember most. I could tell you about the final night when McMurphy is supposed to make his first entrance like a tornado, all energy and laughter, but for some reason a frog jumped down my throat that moment so he entered like a British police officer 'whatsallthis'-ing. Or the night when my 'funny' boxers are supposed to be next and I drop my pants and...they...aren't...there. Or the poor kid playing the aide who I've never messed with, until he opened the door during my offstage rendition of 'F$ck you, I'm drunk.' You get the point.

There were some holes. We were so well rehearsed that when an audience showed up, people got excited when the audience responded. Some of the guys wanted to give them more, sometimes it took away from the action at hand. I don't think it ever pulled too much attention away from the spine of the show but it damages the work that the other actors put into making it the experience we all wanted the audience to have. I spent a lot of head time making sure the play honored all the characters, not make it a 'McMurphy' show. Everyone should have had their moments to shine.

The biggest question in the aftermath I heard was, "What are you going to do next?" The first was that no, uh-uh, no way am I doing Oklahoma. Sorry folks, less than no interest. I have a rule about the theater I do just for enjoyment: I should enjoy it. I do not enjoy that show, no matter how good I'd be at this or that character. Dracula, maybe. For reasons I can't divulge right now that's way too close to me personally right now, and I had a bad enough time soaking up three different versions of OFOtCN. Another group is doing a locally written show, a musical no less. I saw the original production and I liked it. Schedule can only tell.

I thought I had a lot more to say on the subject. Ah well, let's get to pictures. Apologies for the formatting, I still haven't figured it out.

l to r: Harding, Cheswick, Billy, and Martini. As fine a group of psychos as you can find.

There was a better pic of this somewhere, but I can't find it. McMurphy meets the residents. On the floor is Scanlon, back in the nurses station is Nurse Flynn.

McMurphy meets the Chief. I'm not a small guy, so you get the idea. Wonderful actor.

Martini.

I have no idea what was going through my mind at this moment, but I love this picture. It looks like I got him.

McMurphy confronts Harding. I'll pretty much work with this actor any chance I get.

It would take too many words to explain why, but this is one of my favorite moments in the show. There's no feeling like having an audience CHEER for your character.

The end of Act I, the World Series. This is an early rehearsal photo, but it's as perfect a shot as I can get. It's currently my wallpaper.

The basketball game. Good times.

I like this picture for two reasons. One, it's great moment between the Chief and McMurphy. Two, I look almost buff.

After the shock treatment. This is my other favorite moment. It says everything about this show, this character, more than I could ever say.

The amazing, incredible cast.

A much longer, incredibly verbose post about the final weekend of the show and my reaction to it will show up soon, once I've finally wrapped my head around the whole thing.

And there will be pictures.

Update...blah blah blah

Show tonight...amazing. Tomorrow ends it all. I wish I could begin to tell you.

I can't.

Good night.

Update on the Insane (XII)

After a few days off we're back at the theater tonight for a quick rehearsal. Speed through, really, just to get our brains back into show gear. I've had a bit of a rough week. My back has decided it wants to do nothing but hurt, so I've been unable to enjoy the new incredible weather we're having. My chiropractor and I are getting to know each other very well lately.

To our surprise, there was not one, but two reviews in local papers. One took a couple pages of space. Both were very good for the show, extremely positive when it comes to reviews. Of course one paper got my name completely wrong which caused plenty of hilarity among the cast and means precisely less than nothing to me. The day I'm walking through the supermarket and someone calls me the wrong name because of a local newspaper's coverage of local theater...let's just say I don't see it in the near future.

The level of our shock was because one of these papers has gone to the trouble of letting everyone know that they don't DO that anymore. Whoever pulled whatever strings needed to be pulled, thanks. Reservations are coming in faster than our producer can write them.

I'm feeling really good about tomorrow. Don't let the vault fall now.

In other news:
I've finally gone and done it. I started watching Lost. (I refuse to link this because if you don't know what Lost is, then you sure as hell don't have the savvy to get here.) I like it. I'm neither as ravenous as die hard fans nor as angry as critics are. I'm well into the second season and find the twists not too hard to follow. Generally I like it because the production value is high, the acting is pretty damn good for tv, the directors seem to have it right, and the writing is aaaaalllllmost good. For the most part I like the writing but don't like when writers add twists without seeing where those twists go. I can see them writing themselves into a corner. I can only suspect time travel will solve these issues. (No, I'm not that savvy, I was given the hint time travel might happen.) The character writing is usually brilliant or totally ridiculous, but I can live with it.

I saw Street Kings recently. You should see it. It wasn't well liked in the critics' circle but I enjoyed it. The director had written the two movies I thought it was very similar to; Dark Blue and Training Day; and I think he upped the game. Finally he left out the sparkling clean new cop who wrestles with corruption. I've always had issues with white knights, and I'm glad that everyone here has a little mud on them. I can imagine that being a cop in one of the toughest areas of a large city removes some of your ability to think in absolutes, and this movie doesn't try to convince you otherwise.

The main reason to watch this movies is Keanu Reeves. He got back into my good graces a while ago, and I've staunchly defended him to anyone who challenges his talent. Most leading men in today's Hollywood are relative one-notes. They can change it up a bit for each movie, but they take a spine for their character and keep ramrod straight to it. They'll go deep down that path but never really stray too far from it. It's ok, that's how most of these parts are written anyway. I had always felt this true of Keanu. He had one good note: "Whoa." It worked in quite a few movies. Bill & Ted (natch), Point Break, The Devil's Advocate, The Matrix was perfect for him. Neo is a character who lives in a state of constant discovery, most of those being mind-bending. With Street Kings he accomplished two things:

1)He doesn't look like a boy anymore.

2)He never reminded me of any other character he'd already done.

He's quite dark in this movie, and his path to redemption, well, I don't want to ruin it for you. Let's just say it's nice to see him be an asshole for once.

Update on the..hell, THIS is what drugs can't even touch...(REVISED 4/14)

Im changing a lot of this post because it's too self-indulgent, as if blogging isn't inherently self-indulgent to begin with. Way too morose for such a great weekend.

I write this in the wee hours after the first weekend of shows have finished, and I see no sleep for a while...because I am too high on what happened this weekend.

In this first weekend we've already broken attendance records for this group's last half dozen shows (at least that's what I'm told). Tonight the tally was around 160. I can't even remember the last time that many people came out for a show that didn't have a pit band. Granted, the show itself carries its own weight through recognition, but apparently word of mouth is already working its magic. We doubled the crowd from the first night.

It's a long standing given that Saturday night crowds are far less excitable than Friday night crowds. Tonight was the exception. Through the tinny speaker in the green room you could hear the electricity of the crowd. The first ten minutes of the show (nearly the only time I'm not either on stage or frantically getting into the next costume) I could hear the crowd work with the cast. The air popped. I don't know how to describe it if you haven't felt it before. I just knew that it was up to us to keep them alive.

And we did. ALL of us. The minor snafus kept none of the energy off the show. For personal reasonsI walked onto the stage angry and ready for war. I used every bit of that to get through the opening, and the cast and crowd carried me through the next two hours. By intermission I felt invincible. I can't even begin to describe to you how well this cast works together, onstage and off. Do I have complaints? Sure, but the overall sense of community and harmony far outweigh any of those. We got down to it and we worked. We gave that crowd everything we could, and they gave back.

I've been remiss in mentioning that the John Proctor from last year's Crucible is playing the part of Harding. In fact, he got me to audition for the show. He and the other insanos built such a believable group of wounded it was hard not to want to help them.

The reviewer who came for the dress rehearsal has posted his review on his own website here. Kind words. I know he gives nothing false praise, so his comments were especially appreciated. He went so far as to submit it to the website that's run by the local newspaper magnate, and they plan to run an edited version of it Thursday. If that and word of mouth work, hell we might come close to sell outs. This weekend there will be a lot of family and friends out for the show. Pumped. Only wish there would be more.

Update on the Insane (X)

A quick recap leading up to last night...

The final dress went extremely well. The friends and family who came to see it were extremely responsive. There weren't more than a dozen people, but it felt like more like a performance than any other dress I'd been in. They were very supportive, we walked out of there confident. I decided to stay in that night and get some sleep.

Yesterday morning, opening day, I woke up and my throat felt like sandpaper. Awesome. So everything I had planned went on hold. I sat in the house, drank tea and played videogames. Before getting to the theater I picked up a bag full of drugs.

The show...

There's no way I can think anything other than good thoughts about last night's show. The crowd was huge and very responsive. The cast had an energy that fed everyone. If I had to comment, I'd say that there was almost too much energy, but I'll take that over too little any day of the week. With a bottle of water on either side of the stage and throat spray right next to them I got through the show without a problem. The crowd loved it, they were great. Awesome positive comments. I just pray all the shows go this well.