Friday, October 21, 2005

I Know Nothing About Good Theater

This, from the Chicago Reader:

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HAMLET Though this production inaugurates a space for "artists working outside the traditional methodology of the text-based theater," director Blake Montgomery's elegant, clean-lined Hamlet is radical only in that it returns the play to its roots, stripping away centuries of convention and received wisdom. There is one departure from the text, however: the final scene is played first. This produces a kaleidoscope effect--one little twist, and all the pieces fall into a new pattern. A first-rate cast of eight, led by the extraordinary Christopher Johnson as Hamlet, performs on a bare stage in modern dress with only a change of coat or glasses to indicate a new character; between their scenes, the performers watch the action from either end of a runway-style stage. Hamlet may let ego interfere with duty, but this production never does; it keeps perfect faith with the ghost of Shakespeare. And of Joe Papp: all performances are free. Through 11/19: Fri-Sat 8 PM. Building Stage, 1044 W. Kinzie, 312-491-1369. --Kelly Kleiman

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Yeah, that's the review of the show I was just complaining about in the previous post. We are listed as one of this week's Critics' Choices. On top of that, last night I saw a production of The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams, who until last night was one of my least favorite playwrights. Now I have to go back and re-read all the stuff I said I hated, because I didn't realize just how funny the guy really was. Everyone always plays his characters as these monstrous founts of melodrama, when really they are normal people with normal problems, who, like characters in plays by Chekov, use humor to cover up their unhappiness.

I have no idea what I'm talking about.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

The Play's the Thing

This play I'm in? Maybe I mentioned it before? It's called Hamlet, by this dude named William Shakespeare. Maybe you've heard of it. I play the Ghost of Hamlet's Father, which is not to be confused with The Courtship of Eddie's Father. My show has far fewer moments of unvarnished terror.

So, yeah, I'm in a production of Hamlet, which was one of my life's ambitions. Actually, my ambition was to play the role of Hamlet, but you don't see too many two-hundred-eighty-pound Danish princes treading the boards. I am cool with this, however, because the dude playing Hamlet is a friend of mine, and he is fucking awesome. As a bonus, this other guy I know, Kelly, is playing Claudius, and he is freakin' brilliant.

Too bad this production totally blows.

Did I say that out loud?

I can't really say it blows, per se. People who have seen it, whose opinions I trust, and whom I think will not bullshit me, have told me they enjoyed the show, or at least enough of it to make the whole experience of watching it worthwhile. I suppose that is something. No reviews have been published yet, so there is no official statement on our show's quality, but I'll be sure and let y'all know when that comes down.

The problem is that we are just not having fun. At the very beginning of this whole thing we, the cast, were led to believe that we would be embarking on a unique theater experience, with a different take on the rehearsal process. I expected to do a lot of work based in physical theater. Also, a buzz-phrase frequently used by our director is "actor-creator," which led me to believe that I and the rest of the cast would have some say in the direction of the show, or at least be able to discuss what themes we felt our production should address.

But no. First off, there was no table-work. For those of you who don't know, table-work means the cast gets together and combs through the script to make sure everybody agrees on pronunciations and definitions and that sort of thing. It is also the beginning of the character work, where the actors begin to feel each other out, and with the director's guidance begin to get an idea of their characters' relationships. We did none of that. Worse, we were forbidden to have any discussions of any kind relating to any of this. Whenever such a discussion would begin, the director would get all flustered and say, "Why are we discussing this? I don't find this interesting."

I will admit that certain aspects of table work can be tedious, but that doesn't mean they are any less essential to the process. But alas, that essential step was left out. Instead, we went straight into the blocking. And we never left.

It took us almost two weeks to completely block every scene in the show. Unfortunately, scheduling issues made it necessary for us to work on the scenes out of order, so that on Day One we might work Scenes 3, 7 and 12, and on Day Two we might tackle Scenes 2, 5 and 14, depending on which actors were available. Normally this is a frustrating but not unexpected problem at the beginning of a rehearsal process. However, since our director came in with absolutely no pre-conceived plan for blocking, the process took longer than it normally should have, and, since there was no table work (or indeed, even a read-through of the script) we had no greater context in which to put any individual scene.

Finally we had worked on every scene in the script, and when we had all of the actors in the room at the same time we started going through the play in order. And everything plopped like a turd.

See, because of the way the stage is set up in this particular theater, where an actor exits after one scene determines where he must enter for his next. Alas, that was not taken into account even a little bit during those first two weeks of blocking rehearsals. So we had to start from scratch. The re-blocking took another week. By then most of us pretty much had our dialogue memorized, so we could start doing some real character work if only our director would allow it. But of course, he would not.

Scenes lasted an average of about three to four days. During that time the peformance of the scene would grow stale and uninteresting because we actors had nothing to back up what we were saying. We had little concept of our characters beyond what had elicited a vocal response from other people in the room during the running of scenes. We had no notion of our characters' relationships to the other characters. Essentially, we were eight actors performing eight different one-man shows on the same stage. It soon became apparent that our director would have to take steps to move us back in a productive direction. Unfortunately, he really only seemed to know one solution:

We re-blocked it.

Last Sunday was opening night. Saturday? We re-blocked some stuff. During the last week or so of rehearsals our director did finally start giving us some actual character-based notes, but in some ways it was too little too late. It was like trying to write a short story, but instead of actually writing, you just made an outline, and every time you got a new idea you stuck a Post-It Note on there.

At any rate, the show has finally opened, and while I am not particularly thrilled with the end result, it still has some watchable moments. I can at least say I am proud of my own contributions, and those of my friends. So that's something.

Friday, October 14, 2005

Geolographal

I have no idea what the above word means. It came up at work, by accident. I think it is worthy of being inserted into the English language provided a suitable definition can be found.

I am open to suggestions.

Also, a couple of people have asked me about linking to this blog. Hell, link away! The more the merrier.

I could use a nap.

And also, more money.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

And You Thought Columbus Day was Important

Or did you? I never really got the point of it. I mean, the guy was lost, and managed to find a place that had already been "found" by some twenty million Native Americans on two continents, not to mention a shitload of Vikings, and (if certain rumors are to be believed) even the Egyptians managed to swing by our neck of the woods a few times before old C.C. blundered his way over here.

But today we find an anniversary truly worth celebrating. Today we mark the end of oppression and tyranny, and the beginning of justice. For today, October 12, 2005, is the 146th anniversary of the Dissolution of Congress by His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Norton I.

Everybody understands Mickey Mouse. Few understand Hermann Hesse. Only a handful understood Albert Einstein. And nobody understood Emperor Norton.

Words to live by, my friends.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

I'd Like Some Cheese With My Whine

So, I've got some stuff on my mind. Nothing major, really. The usual stuff people complain about in their blogs. Job issues, that sort of thing. But I realized that I have gone and done something really stupid, which limits my ability to vent the way I'd like.

I've gone and plastered my name and likeness all over this damn website.

Now, I have no real reason to assume that certain people about whom I would like to complain know about this blog, but really, how do I know that for sure? You guys remember that one chick? She called herself "The Washingtonienne" online, never published her own name, only used initials to refer to anyone else. She worked in some congressman's or senator's office, I believe, and she wrote about all of her crazy sexual escapades for the amusement of a couple of her friends from high school. But then, some journalist found it, and managed to track all of the clues in the blog to the source, and published it. The Washingtonienne, whose real name was Jessica Cutler, ended up losing her job. It was quite the little Beltway scandal.

So you can see why I hesitate to vent my frustrations the way I'd like to. Of course, I doubt any journalist would give a crap that I thought I was getting screwed over by the business I work for. And I doubt that I would be so fortunate as to receive a book deal and a spread in Playboy for my trouble.

But then, I haven't even STARTED whining about this play I'm in. Hoo boy. This one's a winner.

In other news, the Snizz's new album, "The ReBirth of Snizz," just dropped. I have heard it, and what can I say about it besides, "The Snizz"? Anyway, if you're interested in checking it out, I'm told that a quick e-mail to the Snizz's business partner, Walshington, I.C., who of course has nothing to do with me, will get you all hooked up.

So that's all the news that's fit to print. At least without getting me in too much trouble.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

Look What I Can Do!

Sorry about that last post. It's been an unpleasant couple of weeks. But I'm feeling much better, now.

The whole Hurricane Katrina issue got me really down. I know, that is probably the shallowest, most trite thing anyone has said about it. But I don't really want to get into detail on it here, nor do I feel like making big political statements. I have strong opinions about a lot of stuff, but I'm not nearly as well-informed as I'd like to be. So I'm gonna leave the heavy political blogging to the people who do it well.

In the meantime, I'm gonna talk about stuff that makes me happy.

Some of you who have checked out my profile may have noticed one of my musical interests, the Snizz. The Snizz has a fascinating history, and I am proud to say that I played a small part in it. For those of you who have never heard the Snizz, well, all I can say is that you are missing out on some of the finest bad DJing in the land. He is really, truly awful, but he has raised his lack of talent to an art form all of its own.

Now, you too can follow the adventures of the Snizz at his very own website, The Weekly Snap.

Lastly, I just found out how to add links into the text of this blog. I hope it works. If you're curious how to do it, you can find a bunch of nifty HTML tips here.

Friday, September 02, 2005

Feelings of Insignificance

I haven't posted anything for a couple of weeks. No excuse for it, really. I just didn't have much to say. I was in a play that closed last weekend, and start rehearsals for another one next week. The Bears played their final preseason game last night. Their first play from scrimmage was a forty-seven-yard bomb from new starting quarterback Kyle Orton to wide receiver Mushin Muhammad. That was really the highlight of the game. The starters only played two series, and then it just got dull, dull, dull.

I had planned to write something brilliant about the plays I've been working on, and my whole theater hobby, which may or may not turn into a career, and blah blah blah. But I've done little this week other than watch the news, and I can't help but feel that anything I have to say about my life is just not that important right now. At the very least, it could wait a little while.

A few weeks after September 11, 2001, the Onion ran a headline that said something like, "America longs to care about stupid shit again." And I don't know what this says about me, but that pretty much sums up how I have felt about world affairs for the last four years. In the '90s, I was aware of politics and current events. I saw the headlines. I was reasonably well-informed. I knew that our government probably did some things that they should not do, and it was probably for the best that the general public didn't know about it. The worst thing anybody could say for certain, though, was that our President couldn't keep it in his pants. Hell, I know plenty of guys who can't keep it in their pants, and I never thought that alone made them bad people.

My point is that back then I didn't feel that the state of the world colored every aspect of my daily life. But I feel that way now. And I hate it. When I read about New Orleans, or Iraq, or Pat Robertson, or just about anything having anything to do with our current administration, I get a knot in my stomach and I can actually feel my brain tugging at itself, as if it is trying to force me to find something light and entertaining to look at. It's as though reading the daily news briefs on the Internet Movie Database will make the headlines in the Guardian a little less real.

So, to sum up, I just finished a play, which was good, and I'm starting a new one, on which the jury is still out. And the Bears' opening day is a week from this Sunday. Why should anyone care? I dunno. Maybe you'd just like something else to think about for a few minutes.