Thursday, July 01, 2004

 

They Are Like Everywhere

More theatre-blogger links added. Theatre Weenies rejoice! For the rest of you, here's a picture of the world's worst pantomime horse.


image from Death in Character by Stuart Ardern

1. Handcart Ensemble has an excellent group blog going. I was going to link to it earlier, but then they disappeared for months. Now they're back. Don't miss their discussion of Jumpers. Whether you like the play or not (I don't), it's a well-argued analysis.


2. Qui Nguyen, your one-stop shopping center for ten-gallon hats and pointy teeth.


3. Writer Patrick Brennan, who rails against the inevitable deification of Ronald Reagan.


4. Isaac's friend Noah Smith, who's directing Treasure Island, and didn't even call me for Jim Hawkins, a part I'm very familar with, having played the part in 7th grade, and no I'm not too old, I'm still big, it's the teenaged male leads that got small.

posted by Dan 8:54 AM
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Wednesday, June 30, 2004

 

BOPPERED

(A sock hop. 50s instrumental rock 'n' roll plays. A guy who looks and sounds just like THE BIG BOPPER runs in and speaks to an unseen poodle- skirted girl.)

     THE BIG BOPPER
Hello Ba-a-a-a-by! This is some swingin' dance, ain’t it? I can't believe a pretty girl like you is standin' all by your lonesome! Haha, you got my motor runnin' baby! Why don’t we...what? No, I didn't leave my keys in the ignition. No, my car battery ain’t gonna wear down. Forget I said anything about my motor, baby. Let's do the Twist!
     (He proceeds to twist.)
Yeah baby, you sure can shake a tail feather! No no baby, I didn't mean...what? Oh, look at that, you actually got a feather in your tail. Birth defect, huh? Well that’s okay baby, you got Chantilly Lace and a purty face and a pony tail...just a figure of speech! Haha! Where you been all my life? Uh, well, I’ll be twenty-three in July, but just hit the high points, baby...Oh God. I thought "The Story of O" was fictional. Well...at least you got to learn French. I hear colleges look for that kinda thing...uh...BABY! You sure know how to move! Yes, I meant that you are capable of moving...I imagine it’d be pretty hard to serve your shrouded masters without use of your central nervous system. Oh they tried that? Spider venom, huh? Sure, yeah, that’s exactly what I meant. I meant that in spite of the fact that a cartel of sex-slavers repeatedly fed you exotic and debilitating tranquilizers, you sure know how to move. You’re not one for metaphor, are you? Oh? Member of the National Metaphor Society, huh?

Listen, baby, why don’t we blow this joint? And let me just clarify that by “blow this joint,” I mean leave this community center, step into my Packard automobile...that’s right, the one with the running motor. I thought we could cruise around. And by “cruise around,” I mean head directly to Shattuck’s field, drink some raisin wine I stole from my cousin, kiss until I get an erection, whereupon you’ll massage my penis for approximately ten seconds until I ejaculate. What's that? "F*ck off?" You mean that literally, right baby? Where you goin', baby? You know what I like! Okay, then I'll tell you!
     (He follows her out.)

posted by Dan 10:59 AM
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S.W.A.K. the U.S.A.

July 6th is my birthday. It's also National Kissing Day in the U.K. Some people want to make it so here in the U.S.A.

If you're wondering what to get me for my birthday, getting July 6th declared "National Kissing Day" would make me a very happy man. 'Cause -- you know -- I like kissing.

UPDATE: I'm not opposed to changing this to July 6th, either. (not work safe)

posted by Dan 9:35 AM
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Tuesday, June 29, 2004

 

I Wrote a Play Called I Be Me Own Spouse

Rapture! Our first copy of our American Theatre magazine subscription arrives! My wife and I are well on our way to getting back into the swing of the stage, after our five-year domestic retreat!

What's this? The cover story is about the Classical Theatre of Harlem, helmed by one Alfred Preisser, a guy we worked with for many years at our company, the Ground Floor Theatre Lab.

What a glowing article...and look! Here's a mention of our Ground Floor!

"...Preisser, who was directing actor/filmmaker D.J. Mendel's Citrus Bird for the Ground Floor Theatre Lab..."

Huh. Citrus Bird. I don't remember D.J. writing a play called Citrus Bird. And Alfred never directed any of D.J.'s shows.

Could he mean this show, originally called Fitcher's Bird? A show D.J. directed, and Alfred acted in, and I wrote?

Yes, I have proof. And pictures!



That's Alfred on the right. Looks like quality theatre to me.

I will give Alfred the benefit of the doubt, and say this must be a case of the reporter garbling his notes. If this is not the case, I will have to send hornets of vengeance north to Harlem.

So, to recap, my first issue of American Theatre Magazine honors me by crediting my play to somebody else, by the wrong title.

That's just perfect.
 
UPDATE:  I got a very nice email from Alfred, and as it turns out it was a case of the reporter garbling his notes.  As I figured.  Citrus Bird and Fitcher's Bird probably sound the same coming out of the speaker of a mini-tape player.  Especially if you've had a couple.  So, the lesson:
 
Alfred PReisser: A Name In Quality Theatre.
 
American Theater Magazine: Lay off the sauce, and invest in HiDef recording devices.

posted by Dan 8:00 AM
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Monday, June 28, 2004

 

Parent Television Council Filth Study Filthiest Study Ever

(Don't worry, this isn't my spec for The Onion.)

I was reading this article about the shocking amount of profanity, violence and sex in Reality Television, as reported by the Parent Television Council. I love these guys. They made it their mission to get rid of filth on TV, and they do it by watching gobs of filthy TV, so as to count exactly how much filth-per-minute occurs.

Somewhere, some buttoned-down fellow sits in a folding chair, in a windowless room, in front of a 16 inch TV. He has a pile of identical Xeroxed forms spread before him. Some are marked, some scribbled over, some inked with fingerprints. He clutches his Diet Coke, massages his hand cramped from writing. Girding his spirit, he rewinds the tape yet again, hoping to make out if that model/bartender from Virginia Beach said "felch" or "belch." You know he's doing it for the kids.

I think the filth is starting to take its toll on the faithful. Here's PTC President Brent Bozell on his favorite non-filthy reality program, "American Idol":

"I was fixated by it," Bozell said. "It just sucked me right in."

It goes without saying that it sucked him in hard, and long, until he had no strength left, but could only release into Simon's face. And yet, I did say it, because I have neither heart nor art.

But I didn't bring it up for a cheap joke. Yes I did. But also...I remember when I first started at my job as a photo scanner, we had a flatbed that hued every image toward magenta. All day I would adjust images to get the magenta out. When I got off work and stepped outside, the sky was magenta. The sidewalk was magenta. People's skins had a magenta tone. It was like I was walking throught the atmosphere of an alien planet.

Investigators in child pornography cases often seek therapy because they cannot clear their minds of the images gathered for evidence. I have heard a few cases where the investigators even found they were being stimulated by the material.

The price of focus. When my whole world is tracking trash, everything starts to stink. At least, I think I smell something rotten. I honestly wonder what a life spent obsessing over images of sex and violence does to a person? Does it make blue skies magenta?

If any filth-trackers are out there reading this, chime in!

posted by Dan 11:52 AM
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