And the Losers are - The Playwrights and Composers!

Quick Update on The Vampire Critic

From the New York Times:

Theater Building Chicago sits quietly in the middle of this tempest. Ms. Mazzonelli has distanced herself from the Dramatists Guild, acknowledging that she had not made the festival’s policy clear to Ms. Weiss, whom she had encouraged to attend, along with other members of the press.

“Call it an error of omission is the best I can tell you,” she said. Then a few minutes later, she added, “What’s in my hands is that Hedy Weiss, who is a major reviewer, is upset with me.”

Rob K breaks down the differences in Hedy's coverage of Stages 2005 and Stages 2006 here.

And the Sun-Times breakdown, complete with the letter from TBC and the full response from Hedy is here.

I agree with Abbie in the comments section - Hedy will neither apologize nor be fired. I will, in conclusion to the ordeal, make comment that from the emails I received and phone calls I had with staff at the TBC, Hedy was most certainly asked to not review these shows, in spite of her reviews in the past. She was, however, courted to attend and had reviewed the Stages in the past. The only blameless folks in this were the unsuspecting and unfairly bludgeoned playwrights and composers.

None of this excuses the fact that Hedy Weiss is among the worst legitimate critics of theater in the country. If this debacle does anything I hope it keeps the scrutiny on Ms. Weiss and her neocon bias and elitist exclusion of hundreds of companies in Chicago.

Oh No! The Atmosphere!

This is Freaking Hysterical




Saw this on Steve Gadlin's blog and had to spread the love.

Promote and Protect

Hedy's Response

Thanks to RobK, we have a link to Ed Sobel's post on the Steppenwolf blog that contains Hedy's reaction to the recent flurry of condemnation:

I am stating the facts regarding the review of Stages2006 below. You might want to consider them, even at this late date, before launching any further attack on my ethics.

1. At no time, either by phone, e-mail or in person, was I EVER told not to review these workshops. In fact, the presenters of Stages2006 not only invited me to see the shows many times, but they provided me with tickets, elaborate press materials, and photos to accompany my review.

You simply cannot have it both ways, though that seems to be precisely what the producers of Stages2006 want. I would NEVER write about any work that I was told was 'not for review.' The producers in this case are being dishonest in the extreme to suggest I was asked not to write; they knew very well that I expected to do so and expressed not a single hesitation or concern. In addition, it should be noted that the Stages series is not like workshops held in New York, where special invitations are issued to closed readings, etc. This festival was advertised and listed in the press, tickets and passes were sold and it was a fully public event.
…...I hope you will consider the facts of this situation, not the extreme distortions of the truth that are being so widely disseminated. I have NEVER reviewed any show that I was not expressly invited to see and write about, and Stages2006 was no exception.

After a few phone calls and a look at the official press release sent out, it seems that the horizon is bit murkier today. Moving beyond the established facts that Weiss is, in general, an irresponsible and unprofessional arts journalist, the next question is for the Stages2006 producers - it seems Hedy was specifically invited (this from several sources). Why invite the CST's head theater critic to your event if you expected no ink?

In John Weidman's letter to the CST, he comments

Your food critic would not judge a restaurant by bulling her way into the kitchen and tasting the dishes when they were half-cooked. Playwrights, composers, and lyricists deserve the same consideration.

It looks like the food critic didn't "bull her way into the kitchen" but like the vampire she is, was invited to partake. From my email conversations (all requesting anonymity), I believe that Hedy was asked to not write about the showcase shows, but then there is the mixed message, isn't there? Come see the shows but please don't write about them. If the playwrights and composers were, indeed, shivved in the kidneys by Hedy, it was the Stages 2006 publicist that provided the makeshift weapon.

I think Hedy deserves all the vitriol we can hurl at her, but the playwrights and composers of these eight workshop pieces deserved better representation from their publicist who, in my estimation, contributed to the pre-emptive critical strike against their work.

Here's a piece of unsolicited advice to the theatrical community:
If you don't want critics to write nasty things about your show - DON'T FUCKING INVITE THEM. You have the power to not extend the invitation and prevent any critic from crashing the party, so invoke said power.

ANECDOTE: About ten years ago, WNEP was confronted with a series of reviews by a critic for the Reader that were nearly identical, regardless of the show.

"Great acting, fine script, but why would anyone do a show about this?" was the general idea. As the producer, I decided that this particular critic was barred from reviewing our shows as it was in our best interest to have no review in the Reader than to have this gimpy cat ink us up.

On opening night of the next show, this cat shows up to see the show. It was raining and I was in costume (I was also in the cast), standing as a barricade to his entrance. He was absolutely spitting mad that I wouldn't let him in. After app. ten minutes of argument, he split and we did the show.

The next morning, I received a call from the editor of the Reader.

"Don, you don't get to choose who reviews your shows."
"You're absolutely correct. I do, however, get to choose who does not review my shows."

The next night, a different critic was sent out.

Is my point that I'm a badass? Well, yeah, I guess in part. The actual point is that the producers have an obligation to both promote and protect the artists. If a work is not ready for a critical drubbing, it isn't ready for a critic to see it and inviting a notoriously elitist and overtly biased theater critic, known citywide for her megalomaniacal self importance, is probably a pretty stupid idea. The Stages 2006 folks promoted their event and the artists involved but did not protect them.

The Weiss Watch Expands

This is Like Christmas

Ms. Weiss has a reputation as an irresponsible critic, and there are many occasions that are brought to my attention where her reviews have been shocking in their irresponsible provocation and others in which her opinions and prejudices have seemed curiously contrived.

It is possible, of course, that it is these very irresponsibilities that give Ms. Weiss her value to your paper. If this is so, it is a sad thought. While I personally dislike the critic John Simon, and while I find many of his reviews offensive, I know that his conclusions are accompanied by intelligent perception and theatre historicism. This is not the case with Ms. Weiss.

Edward Albee

* * *

Hedy Weiss has -- yet again -- attracted the attention of the national theater community with a review that shows her -- yet again -- incapable of understanding standards of professional and ethical conduct to which even theater critics are expected to adhere. I can't fathom why her editors, recognizing a pattern of embarrassing behavior, don't do a more effective job of helping Ms. Weiss maintain a sense of proportion and fairness, at least in print. Chicago is an important international center of theater; the Sun-Times is an important Chicago paper. I think Ms. Weiss is an intelligent woman and a good writer, and she clearly cares about theater, but she regularly abuses the power her position affords her, bringing shame to your newspaper and doing damage to theater in Chicago. You ought to do a better job editing her; you ought to refuse to publish her reviews when her writing is unprofessional and unethical; and in my opinion, you ought to think about employing a better, more mature, more responsible critic.

Tony Kushner

* * *

"...As an example, at a recent Dramatists Guild function, I heard excerpts performed of early drafts of "A Streetcar Named Desire", and they were terrible; I assure you, had she been around at the time the play was being developed, Ms. Weiss would have walked out on them too and perhaps written something that prevented the final brilliant work from seeing the light of day. Chicago is perhaps the finest theatre town in America in my opinion, and your paper and Ms. Weiss do your readers and your city a disservice by being so ignorant."

Sincerely,
Stephen Schwartz

Hedy Shows Us Her Ass Once More

Eulalie Mackechnie Shinn's At It Again...

Last night, at the first rehearsal for Livewire Chicago's production of No Exit, it was mentioned that Hedy Weiss might come to see the show. Christ, I hope not.

Stages' musicals show eight serious flaws

Before I get into the Dramatists Guild response, let's point out of few things that smack of the typical hack mentality of our Ms. Weiss:

In the interest of full disclosure: With just one day to devote to the project and eight shows to sample, I arrived with the notion that if I found any first act particularly compelling, I would stay through the whole show. Otherwise, I would move on. None of the shows kept me glued to my seat.

Keep in mind that these musicals are WORKS IN PROGRESS. They are billed and advertised as such. The ticket price is nominal because these shows are often FAR FROM FINISHED.

Weiss bashes seven of the eight workshops and then writes:

By the time I made it to "Beach Wars," the last of the eight shows of the day, I was just not in a laughing mood.

Thankfully, she merely mentions that it is a "screwball musical comedy" and moves on.

The Dramatists Guild of America fires back.

Ms. Weiss’s decision to review these eight shows at this early stage in their development, in violation of the express wishes of the theatre, was a shocking and irresponsible betrayal of one of the fundamental understandings which makes the creation of new work possible.

* * *
How does a responsible theater critic pass judgment on a new show based on having seen only a fragment of it, a fragment which the critic understands to be in flux. The answer is a responsible theater critic doesn’t do this. A responsible critic knows the impact a review has. Did Ms. Weiss intend to stop these shows in their tracks? If that is what she intended, then what she published was more like a preemptive strike then a review.

When will the editors of the Chicago Sun-Times realize that their head theater critic is an unqualified, incompetent hack? When will they realize that in, at least the tiny segment of the population that comprises the theater world, the CST is a joke with much credit for that going Hedy? Like the character of the Mayor's wife in The Music Man, Weiss is comic relief with a bit of power - pick a little, talk a little, Hedy, but don't put your inanity and unprofessional horseshit to paper.

* * *

Speaking of...

I'm pretty happy about No Exit. The first meeting was nicely done, organized, and informative. The cast is solid. The set design looks professional. Chris (the director) seems to know his shit. I'm excited to get down and dirty with this show.

* * *

Remember - We Lost an American City

The Trip to Oklahoma - Part Two

Wind Gas, Will Rogers and Thumbscrews - a Travelogue in Two Parts

Before I get into the Gun Museum, let me tell you something about my folks.

My mom is one of the most impulsive, adventurous, generous, funny, and eccentric people I know. She's the person that almost got me killed in the desert because she thought taking the "scenic route" (read: no real road in sight) would be fun. Seven hours and two flat tires later, we were found out in the middle of Nowhere, Arizona by an Indian in a truck - by accident. Mom is the one who volunteers for everything at her church and fundraised so much for Russian orphanages that the Bishop of the American Lutheran Synod invited her to tour Russia with him in the spring - she's been taking Russian language lessons ever since. My mom is, simply stated, cool as shit. She is the kind of person people always wish was their mom.

She is also a dyed in the wool, bleeding heart, marched at Selma with Martin Luther King, Jr., chained herself to a nuclear power plant to protest it, liberal.

My dad, on the other hand is a man's man. Hardcore cowboy, collects pocket knives and replicas of old cars and trucks, loves John Wayne movies. Works seven days a week. Tells it like it is. Straight shooter. Flew stunt airplanes in Hollywood as a kid, worked as an announcer in 1970's radio. While he is my stepfather, he is the man I most admire and genuinely wish was my blood paternus. A great cook, makes his own beer and wine, and laughs like a giggly thunderstorm.

He is also a staunch, dislikes Clinton and FDR, voted for both Bushes and Reagan, thinks Nixon got a bad rap, conservative Republican.

Their marriage was featured in the Wichita Eagle and Beacon as an example of couples on both sides of the political fence during the 2004 Presidential election.

With that understood, we move back into our trip.

The J. M. Davis Arms and Historical Museum
or This Guy Was fucking Nuts!

This place is less a museum and more a slightly organized storage facility for this dude's collection of 20,000 guns (from pistols to shotguns to machine guns to an actual Gatling Gun to a tank), his collections of over 1,200 vintage beer steins, stuffed animals, animal horns, WWI propaganda posters, Presidential campaign literature, slave manacles, actual nooses used in hanging criminals of the thirties and forties, American Indian arrowheads, and musical instruments.

Granted, he collected over his lifetime some pretty interesting stuff. He had a display of pistols from the very first model used to the most modern available; he had a couple of antique "sword-pistols"; he had the pistol used by Bonnie Parker (of Bonnie and Clyde fame).



Problem #1: this was the worst organized 'museum' I've ever been in. No historical context, no rhyme or reason for the display order, very little along the lines of a learning experience - it was a bit like going to a warehouse filled with a guy's white linen collection ("Over 20,000 white sheets!"). The gift 'area' reflected this lack of intellectual curiosity as well - a collection of some random books on guns and the Old West, a couple of plastic cap guns, a collection of cheap turquoise Indian jewelry, some Rachel Ray cookbooks, some NASCAR posters, and some 'revolutionary' aromatic candles.

Problem #2: your Angry White (Liberal) Guy from Chicago was smack dab in the middle of a redneck state surrounded by GUNS. I understand that it is the user of the tool who is responsible for its use, but something about being in a warehouse displaying 20,000 guns wigged my shit out a bit. I explained to my dad that it was like I took him to the Harvey Milk Museum of Homosexual Pornography and Welfare State Paraphernalia and turned him loose.

At lunch in Dot's Cafe (a favorite of mom's), I started on a rant about gun control and immigration that became more impassioned as I realized that everyone in the cafe besides my mother and my wife were disgusted by my liberal ideals and were glancing sideways at me as I went on...and ON...

I realized after we left that I have some problems communicating with the more conservative Americans I meet. I started thinking about how disrespectful it was to my dad to openly attack his beliefs in public while still frustrated with reconciling my own beliefs that although I love and respect my dad I find his political perspective absolutely beneath his intelligence. See, my dad has common sense in abundance so it does not compute that he is one of those who continually supports George W's war on brown non-Christians.

Back Home in Kansas

Dad and I decided to focus our discussions on Israel and New Orleans (you know, safe topics for us). I tried desperately to ask questions and try to see his perspective on things. I have been watching Morgan Spurlock's 30 Days on FX and have been pretty impressed with his "walk a mile in someone else's shoes" concept, so I figure whether my dad and I can agree or not, I was in his house - do my best to shut up and listen.

Meanwhile, mom got it in her head that Jen and I needed new shoes. Jen got a pair of those new M.B.T. sneakers that are designed to work your ass muscles while walking by making it feel you are walking on sand barefoot. Mom got some of those as well. For me, she got a pair of Z COIL shoes. They look like hiking boots for the handicapped but, Christ, these things are freakin' comfortable!

We hung out with my sister (who seems to be doing much better than the last time we heard about her) and my niece and nephews (who are so cool and smart and talented, I burst with pride) and my Grandma Betty. That night Jen, my mom, and I watched Spike Lee's When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts, which is remarkable and sad and infuriating and more balanced than I would ordinarily expect from Spike Lee.

For our final evening, my dad grilled filet mignon and King Salmon fillets they caught in Alaska a couple of weeks ago, followed by a magic show by Craig Cole, my dad's best friend. By the way, Craig is a Rush Limbaugh fan, so the pre-dinner conversation was pretty heated - I tried to keep it cool, to listen as best I could, but taking on both my dad and Craig was quite the challenge. Hearing them both advocate nuking all of Iran because Muslims are all extremists jealous of our freedoms almost ruined my appetite, but the food was so good, we all calmed down.

IDEA: Maybe instead of bombing each other, we could just hold diplomatic meetings in Wichita and my folks can cook?

The magic show, by the way, was absolutely phenomenal - Craig is a great folksy sort of magician (and an actual working magician as well) and he did a ton of incredible card tricks.

That night we packed up and met the train at 4AM in Newton, KS and got home to sweet Chicago yesterday afternoon.

Back to business as usual.

The Trip to Oklahoma - Part One

Wind Gas, Will Rogers and Thumbscrews - a Travelogue in Two Parts

This was the first time Jen & I had ever gone on a long distance train trip and was also the first time either of us had ever ridden in our own cell in the sleeper car. For those considering it - yes - the digs are a bit snug for a day-long trip, but you get to get up and walk around the train, there is a dining car and a "sight seers" lounge with big swivel chairs.

Pictured left is Jen, happy to not be flying.

We loaded up our portable DVD player, some books, and our travel Scrabble game, and off we went. NOTE: while taking the train is incrediby time consuming - 13 hours from Chicago to Newton, KS - there is absolutely no hassle whatsoever in the check in. I even got to keep my shoes on and not one person asked to see my picture ID. Overall, much better than a plane, if you have the time.

My mom picked us up at 3:30AM, we went to her house and crashed for about six hours, showered, loaded up in the car and headed for Claremore, Oklahoma.

Oklahoma - Where the Wind Gas Goes Ripping Down the Plain



The first thing one notices about the Oklahoma landscape is that it is almost completely flat. This isn't to say that it doesn't hold a certain beauty in it's simplicity - it just means that in order to make it seem less like you are spinning your tires in one place for four hours, you need to find a driving diversion. Ours was the "Cow Counting" Game of my mom's invention.

The rules are simple - two teams are established (passenger side, driver's side) and as you travel, you count the cows you see on your side of the road. Every time you pass a roadside cemetery on your side of the road, your cow tally resets to zero. When the trip is over, the team with the highest number of cows wins.

Last year, on the Lucas, KS trip, Jen and my dad won. This year, mom and I won. The rivalry is now bitter, fueled by trash talking and threats to change the rules.

The second thing to notice about Oklahoma (aside from the presence of a roadside convenience store/gas station called "Kum & Go" - what were they thinking??), is the continuous exhibition of the Okie entrepreneurial spirit in the form of multiple use shops on the side of the road - Billy's Beer, Bait, and BBQ and Guthrie Antiques, Tax Help, Lawn Service, and Notary Public - these are the common theme, aside from cows and cemeteries, on the road through the Oklahoma highways. This sense of "I'll do anything for a buck" attitude makes me feel closer to the Oklahoma natives and I'm thinking seriously about putting a sign in my yard that says Donny Ray's Public Relations, Script Writing, and BBQ (now with LIVE Theater! and Poker!).

The third and final distinct characteristic of Oklahoma (and this one pretty much translates into nearly all midwest states) is the roadside historical marker (as is demonstrated by Jen and my mother at a pull off spot that has no restrooms, no building, just the "Wind Gas" marker you see). Someone decided that the saga of "The Gas That Wouldn't Burn" was worthy of a concrete and metal plaque on the side of the highway. Think about that when you are frustrated that Mel Gibson's anti-Semetism and Jon Benet Ramsay's murder are actually considered news for three weeks in America

He Never Met A Man He Didn't Like

We arrived in Claremore, checked into our Bed & Breakfast (a really nice little place out in the middle of absolutely nowhere), had dinner at a BBQ place (the appetizers were fried Velveeta balls - no shit - they were awful), and crashed. The next morning, we proceeded to the Will Rogers Memorial Museum. Rogers was that folksy cat from the Depression who was all homespun and had a simple, comedic wisdom about him, right?

Well, he was also a huge film star in his day, a vaudeville and Ziegfeld Follies star attraction on Broadway, and died in an experimental flight over Alaska. I'm not yet sold on his political commentary - he seemed to be the sort who lightly jabbed at the politicians instead of brazenly ripping them to shreds, but he was the original "Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court" so his gentile nature seemed to fit the times.



One of the most impressive things about Rogers was his radio address at the height of the Hoover administration and the Depression. While a fairly harsh critic of Hoover, it seems that they were sharing the hour on the radio, addressing the nation. Rogers was both polite and respectful of the President while at the same time ripping him a new asshole in front of the nation - reminds me that Colbert has this going for him as well. While more like Jay Leno than Al Franken, Will Rogers managed to criticize nationally every President in office during his lifetime while still seeming to respect the office of the Presidency. I wonder how he'd react to the post-Viet Nam cynicism and the creation of George W.?

After hitting the gift shop - I purchased a Will Rogers biography - we loaded up in the car and headed into the heart of red state Republicanism - the J.M. Davis Arms and Historical Museum, a place both fascinating and infuriating and the beginning of the week-long political debate between my staunchly conservative father and his angry white guy son.

To be Continued...

Out to Lunch - Back on Monday

The Improv Inferno Freezes Over

A couple of years ago, two friends, Dan and Trish Izzo (two original members of the cast of Angry White Guy Reads the Paper), loaded up their wagon and moved to the vast wilderness known as Ann Arbor, Michigan, to create an oasis of improvisational comedy. Since then, the Improv Inferno has flourished.

I got an email this week:

It's with a heavy heart that I regretfully announce that Improv Inferno will be closing it's doors mid September. Unfortunately, this is not because of any failure on the part of our business. Indeed, business has been great. We've been voted Best Local Comedy Troupe by RealDetroit. We've successfully launched The Michigan Improv & Laugh Festival, we have a full slate of classes running and are coming off one of our best months ever. Our shows have gotten consistently good reviews and our audiences have been excellent and growing.


Unfortunately, our landlord is terminating our lease in an effort to find someone who can pay double what we currently pay in rent. It's unfortunate, but that's how business goes. We're regrouping and planning our strategy for where to go next. It's going to take some time to find a new location so keep your eyes peeled and we look forward to having more fun in our new home as soon as possible.

This is a heartbreaker, but as Dan points out, that's how business goes. Until the artist owns the property, he is at the mercy of those who do. The Izzos will be fine - their from hearty stock - and I look forward to Improv Inferno 2.0, however, if you're in the area, go check them out.

Throw them a few bucks and they'll make you laugh your tits off.

* * *

On the Road Again

Jen and I are going on vacation for the next week - my mom and dad are treating us to an all expense paid trip to...Claremore, OK, home of both the Will Rogers Museum(for me, given my folksy wisdom and homespun charm) and the J. M. Davis Arms and Historical Museum - aka the Guns and Executions Museum (for Jen, given she's a sick twist).

I'm purposefully avoiding all contact with the internet during our trip, so I'll have photos and stories to tell next Monday.

Have a great week!

When the Critic is a Douchebag

What an Elitist Cunt

For clarification, I have nothing to do with RiMeChi Theatre, nor have I seen their production of Orphans. Further, while Mr. Adler is one of those critics who consistently dislikes my own work, my motivation for commenting on his elitist, shitty review of the RiMeChi folks' show is not out of spite but out of gut reaction outrage (OK. Maybe 'outrage' is a bit strong - I'm 'outraged' at the continuing debacle in Iraq, not a review in the Chicago free paper - have to keep things in perspective).

From the Chicago Reader

ORPHANS- Steppenwolf mounted this play in 1985, and I’m still not over it. Honestly. As directed by Gary Sinise, Lyle Kessler's unassuming tale of two nearly feral brothers and the mysterious businessman who befriends them was and remains among the most devastating things I’ve seen onstage. Now, only 21 years later, The RiMeChi Theatre Company dares debut with Orphans. And? The problem isn’t just that RiMeChi’s version doesn’t measure up to Steppenwolf's. It's that director Tom Reedy doesn'’t have the minimum resources to do the play at all. Take costuming. In Orphans, clothes signify. Lacking or having the right ones is crucial motif. Reedy’s shoestring substitutions negate that motif. The set fails similarly. This script demands either more money or more cunning. Tony Adler.

1. In a review that contains 119 words, Tony uses 45 to praise a production of Orphans done and buried 21 years ago. Is he kidding? It is highly likely that most of the folks involved in this current production were barely in elementary school when his precious Steppenwolf production was up and, further, what the fuck does that production have to do with this current one?

2. His second point is that the RiMeChi Theatre 'dares' to put the show up and that it doesn't 'measure up' to his memory of a Steppenwolf performance that happened when Reagan was sworn into his second term. This is just lazy critique, Tony.

3. When Adler finally gets to actually reviewing the production he saw, his only critique is that the production didn't have enough fucking MONEY to buy nice COSTUMES?!?

Adler deserves to be punched in the nuts for submitting this and Albert Williams should be ashamed for publishing it and allowing Adler to get paid for this lame-ass attempt at theatrical criticism. When I taught eighth grade music, we'd spend two quarters working on critical analysis of popular music - this review wouldn't have received a passing grade.

What a jackass.

UPDATE:
This post shook some trees, I guess.

One area that I do wish to amend - Albert (Bill) Williams does NOT review the Reader reviews prior to publication. I've been informed that his official capacity is as the Assignment Editor. Given that I'm personally a big Bill Williams fan (he is one of the country's top arts journalists and I have a great deal of respect for the man), I'm retracting my assignment of blame to him and allowing the entire stubby finger of judgment to rest upon Tony Adler's head.

UPDATE #2:
I've been getting a bit of email about this one - both in wild agreement with my points and in defense of Tony.

I'll make one distinction to the few who find my use of language - my "namecalling" - as an abuse much worse than Tony's review. Distinction: Tony gets paid to write his opinion and it is read by app. 86,000 people. I do not get paid and thus reserve the right to call anyone a "cunt, douchebag, and jackass." If you cannot understand that, you're too stupid to own property.

"Steal My Cancer," She Said

Happy to Be Where I Am

Sometimes you see things that put your own bullshit in perspective.

Good Eats, Good Company

Delicious and Nutritious

This evening, Jen and I had supper at Steve Lund and Virginia Killian's pad. Steve prepared grilled shrimp, wrapped in basil and bacon, Filet Mignon, excellently grilled, a red potato salad, and fresh grilled beets. Virginia made a wonderful Nutella bundt cake.

We ate and talked at length about theater, outreach programs, and someone known only as "Potato Face." Steve and Virginia are two of three actors that comprise CLUNK and Steve was the co-director of Soiree DADA: Neue Weltaffen. Always a good time eating great food with the super smart and funny.

Thanks, kind hosts.

You Get What You Paid For - A Friday Night in August

Snakes on a Plane

There is no more satisfying feeling than getting exactly what you paid for. A slice of deep dish Chicago-style pizza. A pint of Guiness. A pair of super comfortable sneakers.

And Samuel L. Jackson kickin' ass on a plane full of CGI generated snakes, hell-bent to bite every single person on the flight.

We thought there would be a line (hell, I'd built this up so much, I anticipated Star Wars like lines) but there wasn't. In fact, there were probably only about thirty people in the audience at the 7:20PM showing. Rebar, Jen and I did not care. Loaded up on stale movie theater popcorn, Junior Mints, Raisinettes, Twizzlers, and bottles of Dasani water, we were ready to be taken on a ride.

SoaP is like Piranha (1978) with Sam Jackson instead of Bradford Dillman and awesome killer fish effects. The movie is a great ride and Jackson's balls-on enthusiasm makes the whole thing work - in fact, without Jackson, you have a poorly written, clunky but serviceably cast (including Lin Shaye, the actress who played Woody Harrelson's sickening cunnilingus craving landlord) movie with some cool snake effects. With Jackson on board, the ride takes on a whole different level of fun. With Jackson on board, it becomes a bad ass event, never taking itself too seriously, never pretending to be more than what it is, content with being a movie called and solely about snakes on a plane. This is an example of a great actor elevating a bad movie to iconic status.

SIDENOTE: While I am prone to get weepy at a lot of films - I am very easy to manipulate in that Speilberg-makes-me-bawl mode - Rebecca got misty and cried at SNAKES ON A (MotherFuckin') PLANE.

I've seen three movies (in the theater) this summer that haven't disappointed me in any way - Superman Returns, An Inconvenient Truth, and Snakes on a Plane. That may indicate that there is something seriously wrong with me.

* * *

Following the film, the ladies dropped me off at the Town Hall Pub to see Dave Lykins and they went home, pretending to be Sam Jackson - you know, black and sassy. I grabbed a large coffee at the nearby 7-11 and squeezed into the only straight bar in Lakeview.

I always feel a little guilty, coming to hear Dave play, because I usually hear less of him singing that I do talking to friends I don't get to see very often. The thing is, Dave is really good and gets better every time I hear him - very mellow and slightly spicy, as singers go. Got to see Goss, PB & J, Jimmer, Fremo, and Markwell. Met Dave's kid Eric and hugged Dave's lovely wife, who seems to never miss a gig.

Around 11:40PM, I said my farewells and headed down the block to the Playground Theater.

* * *

It's always a bit strange going into the Playground. The space used to be WNEP's space from 2000 - 2003 and, while Speedy has done a tremendous makeover of the space (I particularly like the position of the new light/sound booth), there are still elements in the building that I put up myself (like the lamps in the bathroom or the movie theater seats) and hidden things that only I know about (like pennies I spackled into the walls).

That aside, I was there to see the double bill of The Diary Project and Adventures in Comedy, two shows that began as ideas in the W.I.P. that I coach on Sundays. The house was packed on a midnight at a $10 ticket price, so the kids are definitely doing their promotional leg work.

Of the two shows, The Diary Project was, by far, the more successful of the two. The form is pretty simple - the cast improvises scenes and then, while other scenes are being created, write diary entries from their characters point of view and later read them aloud as segue material for later scenes and to deepen the audiences' insight to the characters. Last night, the scenes were a bit on the surreal side, and the diary entries were as well, which put them in a David Lynch rut that they never quite navigated away from. The scenes themselves felt a bit forced, with that "See? Me Funny!" vibe dripping onto the front row, but overall, the set was successful and funny - standouts were both Jeff and Stephanie.

When I mentioned the forced funny to a couple of cast members after, I was handed the "these midnight audiences won't sit still for anything else" bag of horseshit. They forget - I know better. We did midnight shows in that venue for three and a half years and audiences will sit still for anything but dull or uninspired. Hell, they sat still for the noisy crap served up by the second group and didn't get up and leave, so the kids in The Diary Project could've slowed it down, grounded it in some sense of reality and the audience, drunk or not, would have gladly gone along for the ride.

Ah, yes. The noisy crap. Adventures in Comedy is Bryan's attempt at meta-improv theater, melding the rules and concepts behind D & D and the form known as the Harold. A show-within-a-show-within-a-game kind of thing. Aside from my belief that improv about improvisers is a life-sucking force of nature guaranteed to be tedious and self indulgent on the best day, the simple fact that the performance of Adventures in Comedy was shrill, loud without substance, combative, snarky (in a bad way), and pointless noise (the faux slam poetry jam in the middle was the worst thing I've seen on a stage in some time), negated any high concept form that was attempted.

I won't belabor that point, with only a parting comment that if the folks behind the W.I.P. want to succeed under the W.I.P. banner, patience is going to be necessary. Adventures in Comedy isn't necessarily a bad form nor is the cast a bad cast. This is a concept that needs baking time - time to experiment and tweak, time and energy placed in the creation of a theatrical experience and I believe that if you're workshopping a concept, you don't do it for a paying audience. As I wrote earlier, no more Half Baked Pies, Please.

Moist, SoaP, and the Fringe

MOIST
at the Del Close Theatre, Second Floor, IO

After a brief meeting with the cast of IMN regarding possible plans to take the piece to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe next summer, Jen, Merrie and I headed over to Wrigleyville to catch the 8PM showing of 'MOIST'.

The show was great. Like Sirens and Triplette, the all-female thing is better when it focuses less on the "Hey! We're A Bunch of Broads!" and more on simply good, smart scenes that may or may not have much to do with gender. The performances were uniformly solid (although I have a soft spot for Meagan Flanigan - she has the most uncomfortably funny slow burn ever) and the writing, in spite of a couple of sort of aimless scenes, was generally very good. Greg Mills' direction was polished and slick (the levels on the music were a bit hot, but I'm not 80 years old so I can handle that...).

Moments of note were the scene of a couple, desperate to educate their (perhaps retarded) daughter about sex, jump to the conclusion that she is already a slut and determined to scare her away from sex by doing it in front of her, the use of the term "front butt" to describe the...uh...front butt, and the do's and don't's of sauna etiquette.

The only thing missing for me was a throughline - something the evening was 'about', y' know? What I saw was 75-minutes of disconnected but slickly segued sketches without a guiding point of view or reason for being presented together. It represents a trend in sketch comedy that I am not a fan of - I prefer to have a point of view espoused (whether I agree with it or not, whether I 'get it' or not) than a group of very interesting scenes spliced together with no sense of arc or meaning.

That said, if you're in Chicago, check these ladies out - smart, funny, and uncomfortable frank - squirmy good times.

* * *

Snakes on a Plane

Tonight, Rebar, Jen and I will sit in a mega-packed movie theater (the same one we saw Bloodrayne in) and see Snakes on a Plane. I anticipate that SoaP will be better if only because it has a higher production budget, but I understand the hypocrisy of a cat complaining about the need for more balance in art paying hard-earned dough to see a C-grade horror flick about snakes on a plane. There's just something about Sam Jackson's absolute glee in making and promoting this movie that compels me to see it - I thought about this and if he weren't out there busting his hump to promote this thing, there's no way I would sit down in a theater to see it. He is just so freakin' excited about this movie - I gotta see what the fuss is all about.

Following that, we'll head to the Town Hall Pub and catch Dave Lykins doing a set and then I'm heading over to the midnight showing of Adventures in Comedy by some of my W.I.P. kids.

* * *

fringeNYC

First, a shout out to those NYC readers in search of something a) light and frothy to see at the fringe and b) something smart and frothy to see at the fringe:

a) Don't Spit the Water
b) The Complete Lost Works of Samuel Beckett as Found in a Dustbin in Paris in an Envelope (Partially Burned) Labeled: "Never to be Performed. Never. Ever. EVER! OR I’LL SUE! I’LL SUE FROM THE GRAVE!!!

Second, here's the blog of the DSTW crew's experiences in NYC - fun to read in that 'remember when it was new and exciting' phase of our lives.

Third, here's the nytheatre.com list of all the fringe shows. Based on titles alone (no reading of the reviews), what are your top three picks?

Mine are:

1. AMERICANBLACKOUT
2. Nutmeat: A Burlesque Fairytale
3. The Pool With Five Porches

On the Web and In the News (8.17.06)

Long Live the King

Yesterday was the anniversary of the death of Elvis Presley. He was the undisputed King of Rock and Roll.



* * *

This Could Work...

Johnny Depp to Play Sweeney Todd

Johnny Depp and director Tim Burton are to reunite for a film version of the Stephen Sondheim musical Sweeney Todd.
Depp will play Todd, the legendary London barber who murdered his customers by slitting their throats.

The original musical was a Broadway hit in 1979, winning eight Tony awards. A revival was launched in the UK in 2004.

* * *

Excellent Discussion to Wade Through

Who Serves Whom?

I believe, in general, that everyone involved with the production of the play (which I'll refer to, pretentiously enough, as The Play) serves that ultimate group-created collaborative vision. We make a serious error by confusing the text with The Play.

* * *

Thank God

Dying Patsy Was Told

Patsy Ramsey went to her death in June under the unrelenting cloud of public suspicion that shadowed her for 10 years - but not before she was privately assured that her name would eventually be cleared.
That cops were closing in on a suspect "was discussed with Patsy and me by the Boulder district attorney's office," her husband, John Ramsey, said.

* * *

I Think I'll Say....Uhm...Yes?

How About Some Meat on that Sandwich?

DVD: Why We Fight

Jen and I decided, in preparation for our trip next week to Claremore, Oklahoma (I'll explain later), to go on a juice fast this week. Four days, nothing but "no sugar added, all natural" juice. The idea is to clean out your system of toxins and to let your body purge your colon. Fucking ugh, baby.

I also planned to have less to do, given the anticipation of a lack of energy and the inevitable purge on the toilet, so last night we watched Eugene Jarecki's documentary Why We Fight.

Jarecki is the brother of Andrew Jarecki, the filmmaker responsible for the brilliant and horrifying Capturing the Friedmans so the pedigree was high. Expectations were met and exceeded.

If you are an AWG reader living in the US, rent this movie before November 7. Watch this movie, have groups of your politically moderate friends over for dinner and a movie, recommend it to everyone you can. Why We Fight may be as close to a prosecutorial slap at the current regime of warmongers in our higher office and a direct slam to our pasty, limp Congress.

Using as book ends to the meat of the documentary is Eisenhower's televised farewell address to the nation - you know, the one where he warns us of the "military industrial complex" essentially taking over our democracy. If there is any evidence beyond simple common sense that exemplifies the schizoid nature of Americans, this documentary supplies it. After last year's trip to Lucas and Abilene, Kansas last year, I boned up on my knowledge of Eisenhower and, while my conclusions of the man (great military Commander, not so hot President) stands, one aspect of his presidency that was especially disturbing was his constant battles with the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Defense contracting community to curtail the creation of a standing army to be used to enforce capitalist ideology. In this aspect, the man was dead on.

Imagine "Fahrenheit 9/11" without the snarky commentary or humor minus the direct attacks on Georgie boy, and you have Why We Fight. An especially interesting point made in the film is that our leaders do not want to examine, at all, the question "Why do they hate us so much?" It is in the interests of the status quo to avoid asking that question because it leads to the realization that perhaps the American Imperialist posture taken from as far back as Teddy Roosevelt has dire consequences.

Rent it. This weekend. Buy it and show it to your friends.

* * *

The Responsibility of the Artist

Over to the right, on the blog roll, I've listed three documentaries that I feel pretty strongly about. Each is certainly directed to and motivated by an unpopular president and his unpopular invasion of a country that had nothing to do with the attacks on us, however, each has something different in common. These artists felt a responsibility to tell a story to the world that they felt morally obligated to tell.

The Grand Marshall of the theatrical wing of the blogging world, George Hunka, frequently is misinterpreted as carrying a torch set to burn all theater that has entertaining as part of its purpose. I say misinterpreted because I'm not convinced that George wants to purge theater of its entertainment value but, as part of his agenda, to provide a balance between that which is entertaining but devoid of message and that which has something of substance to say.

Scott Walters, in his trick on the theater bloggers, quotes Brustein and invokes the image of the distorted mirror, held up to the audience. In the Brustein example, the audience is horrified and at first flees and then attacks the artist. I'd suggest that the responsibility of the artist is to hold up that mirror and show us the ugly edges of ourselves without frightening or enraging us. The role of the artist in any given community is to illuminate those aspects of our behavior in a way that persuades and challenges us all - this is not to say that all aspects of the world are dismal or ugly but the fact remains that Americans don't want to be told what complete assholes they are and a balance within any work of art is necessary to reach the ordinary citizen.

Clay Sander, a friend and budding screenwriter, theorizes that "Artists tend to think that their work is perfection. If they conform to their audience or benefactors, they're considered sellouts. But, I theorize that most artists that are financially successful, at some point, had to be somewhat mainstream before they got to be experimental."

I'm sure I could come up with examples that contrast his premise, but that isn't the point. I'd agree that to be financially successful, conforming to the whims of the audience is likely necessary - after all, everyone would rather see themselves in a flattering mirror. The question not asked is why is being financially successful an appropriate model of success for artists? In a society where commerce is king and the declaration of the winners uses the monetary balance sheet as the primary benchmark, Grease and Cats and Tony & Tina's Wedding beats the living shit out of the works of Sarah Kane, Howard Barker, and Richard Foreman. Does it, however, equate the blockbusters with the highest qualities associated with that most subjective of things, the all elusive "art?"

But not all works of art have to be 'message' pieces, Don. Sometimes people just want to escape from their realities and be entertained.

I'd wager that most of the time people just want to escape from their realities and be entertained, Straw Man. The fact that Pirates of the Caribbean 2 has grossed the equivalent of the gross national product of some countries while The Corporation is only available on DVD proves that point. That said, however, I'd suggest that most people would be pleased if, in their pursuit of an evening of empty escapism, they were given a bit of meat to chew as well. Having a message does not make a work of art a 'message piece' - it merely makes it a more empowering artistic experience. Doubt by John Patrick Shanley is no less entertaining for having a darker point of view and something to say; Good Night and Good Luck wasn't a drag to sit through in spite of trying to make a parallel between McCarthyism and the media today.

Financial success in art is simply another term for popularity and if we can learn anything from the John Hughes school of movie messages it's that the popular kids are usually shallow bullies and that the uncool kids are the heroes. As a young Patrick Dempsey learned in Can't Buy Me Love, money will make you popular, but that easy to gain popularity is ultimately a waste.

Everyone loves a whore, but no one wants to marry her.

Acknowledge the Problem

The Schizoid Nature of America

"I can't really stand to see them to play because I see poor people getting poorer at the hands of corporations and advertisers, But I can't turn down the paycheck made by exploiting them" --Adam Witt

I've been ruminating on this conflicted statement since I posted yesterday. It seems that we as Americans are forced to deal with this type of conflict in all walks of our lives.

Walking to the El station, he is confronted by a man looking for "spare change."

"I can't believe that America, with her vast oversupplies of food, complicitly allows her citizens to starve." he thinks as he waves the beggar away, indicating that he is in a hurry and has no change anyway.

E. Hunter Spreen, over at Ghostlight, reprints a David Mamet essay entitled First Principles. It is an interesting read, premised, in part, with the notion that "we recipients of the boon of liberty have always been ready, when faced with discomfort, to discard any and all first principles of liberty; and, further, to indict those who do not freely join with us in happily abrogating those principles."

His daughter just turned thirteen years old and the main household conflict is her choice to wear a short mini-skirt to school.

"No little girl of mine is going to prance around like a slut!" he barks just before going online and downloading sexy jpegs of Lindsey Lohan and the Olsen twins.

I think it is more broad than simply "being faced with discomfort." I think the dichotomy of creating a culture based on three essential components - individual worth and liberty, capitalism, and a foundation in the doctrines of Christianity - have created a schizophrenic nation, born and bred to be in conflict with each other and with ourselves.

The natural conflicts between these nearly perpendicular fundamentals have created a nation of fat, wealthy hypocrites. Is it any wonder that those in the world with so much less hate us so? Being a global neighbor to the United States is like living next to a super rich family who hordes all the electricity and water on the block and then tells you who you are allowed to have at the block party and what color your garage has to be painted, then, when your tree is hanging over his fence, he blows up your kid and your dog with homemade napalm and then tries to convince you that you're better off without them.

"Global warming is a reality." he lectures to the choir. "Give up those SUVs and we can save the planet."

He shakes his head in disgust at the rest of America just minutes before turning his carbon dioxide pumping air conditioning a few degrees cooler.

America was founded, in many ways, by the Apostle Paul.

A Jew and a Roman citizen, Paul was originally Saul, a man dedicated to persecuting to the death the early Christians and proliferating the status quo of Roman rule. He was a brutal capitalist until he literally "saw the light" and converted to Christianity. In his newfound zeal, the newly named Paul then approached his devotion to Jesus with the same brutal zeal he had given to his belief in Rome.

Paraphrasing his letter to the Romans, Paul writes that while he knows in his heart what the right thing to do is, he is conflicted with his sinful nature and the desire to do what he knows is wrong. Paul also was a real judgmental fucker with genuine hatred of women and a promoter of what became Puritanical values.

He decided to send his children to a private school because kids today are more violent. prone to addiction and oversexed than when he was a kid. He signs the papers to enroll them into a better school with more discipline and values.

Satisfied with his decision, he spends the evening enjoying some beer, and alternates playing "Grand Theft Auto" on his PS2 with watching "Big Brother" and "XXX" on his plasma screen TV.

This is not to say that there aren't Americans that have a balance between self interest and a set of higher standards. Franklin Delano Roosevelt was a wildly wealthy man from birth who spent a great deal of his time creating programs to help the poor. Bill Gates has created incredible charities for those less fortunate than he. I'm certain there are countless examples of ethical, moral Americans who find balance between the desire for security and comfort and the imperative to help his/her neighbor. Like the great men and women of all ages, those who live that balance are often despised and destroyed - finding that balance is a hard road to travel.

As they say in AA, the first step is to acknowledge that we have a problem.

He read the literature on the damage that second hand smoke does to the non-smoker. He is pleased that they finally made it illegal to smoke indoors or within fifteen feet of a public building.

"Could you move away from me with your cancer stick?" he mumbles at the lady smoking a Virginia Slim as they both stand on the corner of a busy city street, congested with hundreds of cars.

The human shelf life, while increased to 70-80 years by advances in hygiene and medical science, is still short and finite. I'm not arrogant enough to claim to know what happens after the soul leaves the meat shell, but I'm unwilling to wager that what we do in this life is unimportant or will not end up on some celestial balance sheet. Is Ken Lay in hell right now, suffering some cosmic justice for the wrongs he did? I don't know. I'd like to hope so, but then according to the doctrines of Christianity, I'll soon be sniffing sulfur with him.

"Everybody's acting like we can do anything and it don't matter what we do. Maybe we gotta' be extra careful because maybe it matters more than we even know." -- Casualties of War - 1989

Creative Punishment and the American Way

Do You Really Want to Hurt Him?

As a public school teacher, I was a big proponent of the creative punishment. I figured out early that the worst thing I could do to an eighth grader who deigned to challenge my authority by smacking another kid in the face while I was watching or screaming "FUCK. YOU!" over and over in the hallway was not to yell at them, attempting to shame him into amending his rebellious ways, but to simply find a way to creatively waste his time.

Boredom was the worst punishment imaginable to these kids and boredom combined with me laughing at them, oh so much worse. The idea behind punishment is two-fold - enforcing some sort of restitution on the offender's part (the justice part) and preventing future such crimes (the deterrent part). In my hallway (I had my own hallway on the fourth floor and two music classrooms for both the General Music classes and Band/Choir) there were a series of small practice rooms - small rooms designed for instrumentalists to practice in. The building we were in was an old Catholic High School, so these rooms were unused, mostly unnecessary for 7th and 8th graders. I did use one, though.

I called it the "Hot Room." I told the kids that the radiator was broken in the practice room directly across the hall from my classroom. I told them that it would get really hot in there and that they should avoid it if they could. I then, having convinced them of the dangers of the stifling heat of this room, would sentence kids who screwed around to fifteen minute increments in that room. They were so convinced of the awful heat (it was no warmer in that room than in any other and there were windows that could be easily opened to boot) that sitting in the "Hot Room" for 30 minutes was considered hard time by even the gangbangers.

My point? Simple, non-lethal humiliation is often the best punishment and certainly the best preventative medicine - call it the Nathaniel Hawthorne approach. Case in point:
Boy George hits NYC streets

NEW YORK (AP) After being told by a Manhattan judge that he must decide whether his court-ordered community service would be an "exercise in humiliation or in humility," Boy George was to report for his first day of garbage duty on Monday.

It seems that the hopped up 80's icon was so out of his mind that he called in a 911 call to report aburglaryy. There was noburglaryy and when the investigating officers found cocaine in Boy George's apartment, all of his VH1 "I Love the 80's" fame could not sway them from their sworn duty.

The [judge] planned to send him to pick up trash from the city's streets, issuing him a shovel, broom, plastic bags and gloves...

Boy G. tried to blow it off but got nabbed again. The image of the "Karma Chameleon" loading trash in NYC is pretty fucking priceless if only because his crime was so stupid and he thought his nominal fame would somehow shield him from paying the price. It's also kind of sad - which only makes it funnier, huh?

* * *

The Quintessential American Viewpoint

My good friend, Adam Witt, is has recently quit his deskjob to work "in the industry" and has just been on the road shilling the Illinois Lottery at the State Fair. From his blog, the following quote struck me as representing the very heart and soul of America.

"I can't really stand to see them to play because I see poor people getting poorer at the hands of corporations and advertisers, But I can't turn down the paycheck made by exploiting them" --Adam Witt

Makes you wanna wave a nylon flag on a tiny dowel rod while listening to Lee Greenwood sing his one hit, huh?

* * *

The Countdown to 9/11

Speaking of American things, does it feel like September 11 is becoming a national holiday?

On December 7, 1941, we were attacked by 181 planes and 2,400 were killed in the surprise bombardment of Pearl Harbor. That day was also a catalyst for war, although a war most Americans and the world look upon as "The Good War." With that in consideration, I don't see December 7 being wound up as some sort of sacred American holiday like 9/11 seems to be.

In 10 years, regardless of the outcome of Bush's War on the Brown Heretics, September 11 will be a day of remembrance complete with an all-day marathon of 9/11 movies on TNT, BBQs, and memorabilia sold cheaply atconveniencee stores across the fruited plain. Instead of Franklin Mint plates, we'll buy our retired grandparents "actual pieces of the Twin Towers," mounted on a sturdy black plastic base and complete with a framed certificate of authenticity.

Once again, capitalism will trump patriotism.

No Big Apple for Me

Missing the Fringe

Photo from "The Deepest Play Ever" at fringeNYC

This week, in NYC, the New York International Fringe Festival began. I've been reading articles and reviews and am actually missing the experience this year.

After years and years of having a bitter taste in my mouth about New York City, I realize that I LOVE NYC - for about three weeks a year. I've lived in Chicago for over 18 years now, and this is my home. That said, every time I go to NYC for my Fringe injection, I come back disappointed that Chicago can be such a CowTown culturally.

One of the reasons behind that assessment is that I do not go to see many of our cultural highlights - during the Fringe, going to see theater is of the highest priority. The adventure of finding a venue, hoping we can get the five dollar tickets and the anticipation of quality - will it be one of those incredible little shows or another half-baked hunk of horseshit? - all make up for a cool cultural journey.

Photo of Soiree DADA in Washington Square Park - 2005

When at the Fringe, it seems ludicrous to spend almost anytime sitting in your hotel room, watching movies on TV. That isn't why you are there and your time is finite - you have a departure date. In Chicago, I'm home - there is no pressure to go out and see theater and the modus operandi of most is to wait until closing night of the run of a show and, even then, blow it off.

When you get right down to it, most theater in Chicago (non-Equity, Off-Loop) is fringe theater. It's like having the fringeNYC year round - maybe, like the Sears Tower and the Museum of Science and Industry, because it is always there, we tend to take it for granted and ignore it, assuming it will always be there.

Conclusions:
• I really miss the fringeNYC and wish I was there right now.
• I'm looking forward to taking "Invasion of the Minnesota Normals" to Edinburgh next summer.
• I need to arrange some semi-regular "fringe outings" here in Chicago - short blasts of 5 or 6 shows, concentrated in a three day period.

* * *

The Weekend in DVD

Aside from my need for live theater, here's a quick recap of some of the things I've been stuffing in my brain:

BRICK
Written and Directed by Rian Johnson; Featuring Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Lukas Haas, Emilie de Ravin

Chinatown set in high school. This is a seriously entertaining genre exercise, utilizing the music and language of classic film noir and the natural angst and over-the-top drama that is prerequisite in high school to create a dead serious neo-noir. Loved it. Go rent it tomorrow, you won't be disappointed.

CARNIVALE; Season 2
Created by Daniel Knauf; Featuring Clancy Brown, Nick Stahl

I should love this - circus freaks, the 1930's, a biblical war between an ambiguous good and evil - an absolute recipe for my enjoyment. Unfortunately, the damn thing was dull. Season One was intriguing but exhausting; Season Two was just hard to get excited about. I watched the whole thing but the cliffhanging ending just annoyed me.

Manderlay
Written and Directed by Lars von Trier; Featuring Bryce Dallas Howard, Danny Glover, Willem DaFoe

The sequel to Dogville (which I liked very much and, in fact, own, so take the following with that in mind), Manderlay is the second of the USA: LAND OF OPPORTUNITIES trilogy and continues to follow Grace (played by Nicole Kidman in Dogville, and by Howard here), the daughter of an American gangster in the thirties. In the second installment, Grace discovers an Alabama plantation called Manderlay that, after nearly 70 years since the abolition of slavery, continues the practice within it's gated perimeter.

Where Dogville had a fairly clean and tidy message, and the fable made complete sense in the end, Manderlay covers stickier territory and ends up a bit muddled - I'm unsure what von Trier is trying to say about race relations in America (he covers white liberal guilt, the creation of the black class by white slaveowners, and the Mandingo-like lust between blacks and whites), although the allegory to our war in Iraq and the concept of forced democaracy is clear. Howard does a fine job as Grace, but lacks the ethereal quality that Kidman brought to the role, grounding it in reality without the fairy tale quality that made the first so palatable.

* Also:
Just finished reading: The Poe Shadow by Matthew Pearl and Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
Listening to: The in-Krauts - a CD compilation of German Lounge Musick given to me by Joe Janes
Working on: memorizing "No Exit"

* * *

Friday Potpourri

Friday Update

• Scott Walters apologized for his stunt on Monday. Aren't theater people just a bunch of drama queens?

• Cornwallis (the CIC improv group I coach) is prepping for the Toronto Improv Festival - I came up with a form for them that was doable in their 25-minute performance slot and we've been running it several times every Monday night. They're looking good and I'm confident they'll do well.

• Made dinner for Seth Fisher and his lady, Kate yesterday. She's a vegetarian and, ordinarily, I merely change a meat dish to a veg dish for vegetarians. Last night I made some actual vegetarian fare (Pasta topped with baked portobello mushrooms, green pepper, onion, garlic, some spice and an Alfredo Sauce and Tomotoes stuffed with goat cheese and red peppers topped with pecans and basil). It was great and we smoked some fine cigars after and talked politics and Israel.

• Tonight, Rebecca and Flatley come over - making Fillet Mignon, Au Gratin Potato Balls (yes - balls), and fresh green beans with red and yellow peppers sauteed in butter. Jen's picking up some cake for Rebecca (Sunday is her birthday). Then we play poker.

• Next week, Jen & I are going on a juice fast. Our relationship with food is completely funky.

Dumb as A Bucket of Hair

"This is 911 Emergency. Please state the nature of your emergency."

"I want my pizza."

"Excuse me?"

"I ordered some Domino's pizza over an hour ago and they still ain't brought me my pizza!"

"Sir - this is 911 Emergency. We can't help you with your pizza order."

"Well, then who am I supposed to call?"

"How about the White House?"

The woman who, at age 30, just read about Hitler for the first time. The Congresswoman who punches a security guard because he does not recognize her. The man who just doesn't understand why 60% of the country are against the war in Iraq because George W. is such a stand up guy.

Stupid people. It is said that ignorance is bliss and perhaps that is true. Stupidity, however, is anything but bliss. Stupidity is usually confused and angry. Stupidity is...well, it's just stupid.

Stupid People Call 911

SANTA CRUZ, Calif. (Aug. 8) - Only a third of 911 calls for help are actual emergencies, according to dispatchers who say some of the calls are simply wacky.

"People have called because they went through the drive-thru and their order was wrong," said California Highway Patrol dispatcher Dennis Kirchner. "People call because they're lost."

By all means, let's spend less on education than ever before and waste precious time teaching the kids to take standardized tests because that's the way to train our citizenry to be smart, reasoning people resistant to the easy propaganda of those manipulators so hungry to take advatage of us.

Ain't It the Truth?



Trompe L'oeil (French for trick the eye) Mural

This is super cool art. I just love this.

Michael J. Fox Had it Right

The Portrait of a Righteous Warrior

In the 1989 Brian DePalma film Casualties of War, Michael J. Fox looks at his friend in the Marines and tells him of the rape and murder of a Vietnamese civilian teenager that he witnessed and tried to stop.

His friend tries to pass it off as human nature - that, in the harsh and horrifying circumstances of war, folks who could die at any second tend to do things they would never do in civilian life. Fox's response goes something like this: "Everybody's acting like we can do anything and it don't matter what we do. Maybe we gotta' be extra careful because maybe it matters more than we even know."

It's rare that a real life event parallels a fictional account so comparably.


Real Life Casualties of War

BAGHDAD, Iraq -- American soldiers took turns raping a 14-year-old Iraqi girl, and one of them put a bullet through her head after killing her parents and 5-year-old sister, an Army investigator testified Monday.

The attack followed a session of whiskey drinking and card-playing during which five soldiers plotted the March 12 assault, criminal investigator Benjamin Bierce said.

He cited details from a sworn statement by Spc. James P. Barker in which the soldier told how he and his comrades practiced hitting golf balls before heading to the Iraqi teen's home 250 yards from their post at a traffic checkpoint.

After the slayings, the soldiers returned to their post, where Barker grilled chicken wings, Bierce testified.

Besides being fucking horrified by this, a couple of thoughts are inspired by this incident:

• The overwhelming view of the Iraqi people as "Islamofascists" and in all ways non-human is from the "War Propaganda 1004: The Lab" class, teaching the population to see the enemy as monsters to be destroyed rather than human beings. Perhaps the propaganda is so effective that those neo-con followers (the ones not wealthy or in power but are wildly in favor of King George and staff) genuinely see vermin instead of people when they turn on Fox News. Hell, it worked on the Huns and Japs, why not the Towel Heads?

• When things like this are brought into the light, anyone who attacks Murtha as a "cut and run" politician needs to be raped by five Iraqi soldiers and then shot in the fucking head. This stopped being a strictly political issue sometime after Saddam Hussein was found in a spider hole and became an imperialist nightmare.

• Is this the rule or the exception? Does this happen every day but no one reports it?

• Why would any 18-year old join the Armed Forces? You get to hang out with cats who sit around, playing golf and prepping their chicken wings while planning the brutal rape and murder of a fourteen year old girl and her five year old sister. Fucking A, sign me up! Also, it will pay for your college eduation, so you can graduate, get a degree and still have to work at fucking Wendy's because the real work was outsourced to India. Man, capitalism rules, huh?

The Right to Kill for Property

Bush's America

Last week, some jackass jimmied the door to our garage open, looked around, opened my power tools, and left with my upstairs neighbors bike. He looked at mine, but Jeff had a nicer bike than I do.

Not a 'major' theft. Not something to get completely bent out of shape about - it wasn't even my bike that 'he' took. Nonetheless, I did start down a strange, trippy path that began with an essential concern that 'he' could get into our house and ended with fantasies of how I could booby-trap the backyard to physically hobble the fucker. A couple of years ago, someone broke into our apartment at 4AM - I heard him because there were full garbage bags blocking the back door and he was trying to shove it open - I ran him off by coming into the kitchen, poised like an overweight ninja, sporting a handaxe that Jen & I got as a wedding present (thanks Joey T.).

I've thought about that night often, wondering what I would have done if the son of a bitch hadn't been scared off by a chunky white dude in boxer shorts waving an axe around. Would I have actually used the axe on him? Would I try to kill a man breaking into my house? The uncomfortable truth is that, yes, I probably would use the axe - not so much to protect any property, but to both protect my sleeping wife and my sense of safety. If I had had a gun, who knows?

“I was in T-shirt and shorts,” Mr. Rosenbloom said, recalling the day he knocked on Mr. Allen’s door. Mr. Allen, a retired Virginia police officer, had lodged a complaint with the local authorities, taking Mr. Rosenbloom to task for putting out eight bags of garbage, though local ordinances allow only six.

“I was no threat,” Mr. Rosenbloom said. “I had no weapon.”

The men exchanged heated words. “He closed the door and then opened the door,” Mr. Rosenbloom said of Mr. Allen. “He had a gun. I turned around to put my hands up. He didn’t even say a word, and he fired once into my stomach. I bent over, and he shot me in the chest.”

Mr. Allen, whose phone number is out of service and who could not be reached for comment, told The St. Petersburg Times that Mr. Rosenbloom had had his foot in the door and had tried to rush into the house, an assertion Mr. Rosenbloom denied.

“I have a right,” Mr. Allen said, “to keep my house safe.”

In accordance with a new Florida law, Allen was charged with...nothing.

In today's NYT, we discover that 15 States Expand Rights to Shoot in Self Defense. I know some of you have a bug up your ass about my blanket acceptance of Southern stereotypes, but of those 15 states, 11 are Southern. Supporters of these laws call them "stand your ground" laws and the laws broaden the definition of self defense to self and stuff defense. In other words, before, if I shot you in the chest with my retired police issue pistol, I had to prove in court that you posed a direct physical threat to me and that I had no options of retreat. Now, all I have to say is that you were trespassing and I'm off scot-free.

The case involving the Port Richey prostitute, Jacqueline Galas, turned on the new law, said Michael Halkitis, division director of the state attorney’s office in nearby New Port Richey. Ms. Galas, 23, said that a longtime client, Frank Labiento, 72, threatened to kill her and then kill himself last month. A suicide note he had left and other evidence supported her contention.

The law came into play when Ms. Galas grabbed Mr. Labiento’s gun and chose not to flee but to kill him. “Before that law,” Mr. Halkitis said, “before you could use deadly force, you had to retreat. Under the new law, you don’t have to do that.”

How are you gonna blame Bush for this? You liberals always blame Bush for everything wrong in this country and either he's an evil genius or an idiot, but he can't be both. The American people voted for us because - BOOM!

Sorry. I have a right to keep my...er...blog safe.

I'm not claiming that Bush is at fault in this - only that the policies and attitudes of the conservative right, combined with the Cowboy Diplomacy and the 'shoot first, ask questions later and lie' policy of his administration, lead us to these laws as natural conclusions. Americans are hot, broke, scared, and angry - let's enact some legislation that makes it easier for us to kill each other!

On a Happier Note...

Ned Lamont beat Joe Lieberman in the Connecticutt Democratic Primary last night. Lieberman has chosen to blow off his party affiliation and run anyway, probably ensuring the seat will go to a Republican, but that's what Joe wants anyway - he just wants the Republican to be him.

File Under: Whoa Nelly! Crazy Pic!

Provocation for the Sake of It

A Failed Experiment?

It turns out that Scott's post yesterday was an experiment in provocation.

There were some pretty serious flaws in his approach - billing it as a piece of Boal-inspired Invisible Theatre, comparing it to a Brustein-motivated "Theatre of Revolt" moment - both a bit of a stretch in the comparison. The act itself placed Scott in a position of the arrogance born out of being a teacher and exposing the pedestal that academics often sit upon, looking down on the artists.

His point seems to be that provocation without substance is a waste of time and changes no one's perspective. The largest flaw in this experiment is that we all already knew that - Ann Coulter and Michael Moore have proven the point pretty handily in the past few years - the lesson was already learned, so it was much like trying to teach the world of the theater blogosphere that art is subjective. No shit, Scott.

His biggest problem comes from his own, very limited, perspective. Scott has a history (at least on his blog) of disparaging theater that, in his opinion, spits in the face of the audience and treats the crowd as a group of stupid cows that have earned nothing if not the artists' disdain. It seems that Scott sees many of the artists he works and converses with as of that stripe.

And in this interpretation, I believe Scott's experiment fails. The concept of the provocateur artist, with nothing but disgust for his audience and whose artistic goals are merely to insult and attack them is largely a myth - a folklore hero created to embolden talentless artists into believing that their art has merit. The fact is that theater is a narcissistic occupation at it's core. Even the early Dadaists (perhaps the clearest examples of the 'art for art's sake' mythology) were a group of preening, posturing egomaniacs who wanted to take the audience on a ride. Mac Wellman writes plays that attempt to lecture the audience but he still plays to his core audience, the choir to whom he preaches.

We write plays so that people will like them. We act in plays so that people will like us. We direct plays so that people will enjoy, on some level, our creative output. Anyone who says they don't care what the audience thinks of their art is lying.

Scott wrote in his comments section "the level of trust for me within the theatre blogging community will have been diminished by this, in exactly the same way that the trust and valuing of artists has been diminished in the larger community of our towns, cities, and nation." It seems that he believes the diminishment of live theater in America is due to this myth of the rampant creation of audience polarizing, one note, 'fuck the audience' theater.

Now, I've seen bad theater - stuff that makes me angry at its ineptitude, that sucks the very life out of me. I can't say I've ever seen theater specifically designed to intentionally make me hate it. If anyone, including Scott, has any examples of theater created with that end in mind, please illuminate me - at this point, I'm not sure there is such an animal.

A PhD in 'Starving Artist'

The College of Experience
Off the Street

He walks into the W.I.P. (Workshop In Progress), looking to "feel it out." He doesn't know anyone there and sits quietly as I and the regular players bullshit back and forth about any number of things. I bust Tony's chops and make a cursory reference to the size of my balls - laughter. He seems nervous, but is telling himself that it's cool - it's an improv acting class, open to everyone, right?

There is a 50% chance that he will have never been on a stage before and an additional 75% chance that he will have absolutely no natural theatrical ability or talent whatsoever. It is extremely unlikely that he has taken any other classes, given that the W.I.P. is fast becoming the "cheap and easy" gateway drug into more substantive classwork at institutions that charge thousands of dollars for what amounts to some decent advice and stage time.

He will surely never make acting (let alone improv acting) a career. He will likely improve over time but will always be "that guy who kind of sucks" and will either turn into the good-natured cat who perpetually hangs around or the bitter cat who thinks he is much more talented than everyone gives him credit for.

Why is he here?

In the Classroom

She has an B.A. in theater. She has been onstage since she was a child and has been in productions by all the major dead white playwrights of the last two centuries. She has received a couple of Jeff Award nominations, but no actual awards and can speak the collegiate-induced industry buzzwords like a pro.

She recently came to the conclusion that there simply wasn't enough basic security in the acting part of the industry (she loves to call it the industry - it gives it an official sound, don't you think?). She has decided to get her M.F.A. in Theatre Administration because that way she can still be a part of the industry but actually be able to pay her bills. She wonders what blue collar workers call their work communities - the plumbing industry? the construction industry? and do they also abbreviate it to just "the industry?"

It is likely that the budding artist will be squashed by the administrative bean counter in no time as her graduate program slowly sucks the life out of the artistry and replaces it with industry and makes marketing and audience demographics her new artistic focus.

Why is she here?

On the Blogs

Scott Walters, over at Theatre Ideas, is trying to spark some controversy.

After a couple of months of some self-serving calls for "civility", he has decided that civility is a fucking bore and, from his perch above the theater department in North Carolina, he has thrown down the "See? I know from uncivil, boys!" gauntlet.

"Where are our innovators? Where are our new ideas? Brecht was the last real innovative thinker the theatre had. Since he died -- what, 50 years ago almost to the day now? (August 14, 1956) -- we've been in a reactionary phase that is abominable, all the while thinking we were being revolutionary."

He goes on to throw down the fated glove to the artist-class (mostly in New York) by defining Off-Off-Broadway thusly:

"Meanwhile, over in the NYC OOB movement that started 30 years ago, we have come to define radicalism as being the power to yell fuck (or just to fuck) in an empty theatre."

This phrase has diverted most in the blog-universe to rally behind the innovations that are current in OOB (and I suppose I could take the bait and, like George did, list radical ideas being presented on Chicago stages as well) and ignore Scott's most salient point - that this state of affairs he bemoans is his fault.

Yes - Scott takes his pot shots at the artist-class with gusto, using a scatter gun approach and spraying us all with vitriol and uninformed hostility - but after he punches around in the dark some, bitching about his standard issues, he turns his sawed-off shotgun on his world, the collegiate training arena. I'd add, that were he to examine closely those artists most likely to think that yelling fuck or fucking in an empty theater is radical, most would be recent graduates of some collegiate theater program.

" If the theatre ever actually dies -- and I doubt it will, not because there is actually life there, but for the same reason that Amtrak still rolls and people still occasionally ride horses -- you don't have to look any further than the creatively bankrupt university system that emphasizes training over innovation."

He attacks the lack of innovative thought put into the educational aspects of theater, and I think for those who jump all over him for talking out of his ass concerning legitimate theatrical innovation need to listen closely to his assessment of theatrical education.

Now, Scott's next step is to actually present some ideas for innovation to back up the polemic. As has been pointed out, Scott is not part of the artist-class, but of the educator-class. His taste in art in general reflects his complaints about radicalism in theater and reminds me a bit of Brandi on America Loves Talent, admonishing the burlesque dancer, Michelle L'amour (yes - a friend of mine) that "this is a family show." I dismiss his disgust regarding Neil LaBute because I happen to dig at least the attempts made, if not all of the end results.

He mentions that college theater departments should be the R & D of theater. That would be an excellent start because right now Matt Freeman, Jason Grote, Ian W. Hill, Lucas Krech, Rob Kozlowski, and anyone else writing original work is our R & D and the message is being sent to a very small percentage of the population.

"What we are more likely to find out, like the the major networks are finding out from Nielsen, is that nobody is watching, nobody gives a shit what we do, and nobody cares. Maybe that's what we don't want to find out, because if we actually admitted that this was true, we actually have to DO SOMETHING, make a change. And we wouldn't want to do that -- that would require creative thinking."

Scott - I'm working on the "theater in practice" part. Lots of us are. Let us know how your crusade in the classroom goes - ultimately, those are the posts you can genuinely provoke us with - tell us about the things you do in your classes that push the envelope - inspire us with your example!

The Value of Degrees

In Mamet's "True and False", the Chicago playwright/director rips into the collegiate trained actor and acting programs in general, proclaiming that the only way to be a better actor is go out there and do it in front of a live audience. I agree wholeheartedly - college used to be a place where one could improve one's chances of employment in a world slowly being overtaken by more complex technology. An acting degree guarantees no one a job or even an opportunity for a job - perhaps a few networking opportunities at best and a gig for our actress friend with the M.F.A.

Ian writes:

"I’ve never been able to produce a play -- and I’ve produced/designed/directed/designed 50 since 1997 -- for more than $1,200. That's all the money I’ve had, at best. And 45 of those shows had to cost less than $500. If I had more to put in (for publicity and the like), I might, just might, have bigger houses, but I can’t, and the work is what’s important, so I have to keep doing it."

Ian is getting his degree - the only degree that ultimately matters - experience on the street level of live theater.

Why is he here?

"...the work is what’s important, so I have to keep doing it..."

Can't argue with that.

The Price of Free Speech

The Chicago Volunteer Fire Department

I've been MIA from this austere group - it was conceived by Seth Fisher as a way for some of us that don't get a chance to hang out to get together on a regular basis and smoke cigars (burning leaves, get it?). Last night, not only was I sitting in Johnny's Bar (a total dive, run by an 85 year old German cat with no waitstaff or bartender beyond himself) puffing on stogie's, but Jen, after seeing a short play festival at American Theatre Company, swung by and had a few cocktails as well.

It was really nice - Yeater and Lykins came (hadn't really hung with them since Baker & Huff), and my old pal Jeremy Smith showed up. I smoked an unknown brand stick that Seth brought me, a La Veija Habana Celebracion, and a CAO Criollo Pato. We got home and smelled like a bucket of ass.

The Game of Intolerance

Over at the Media Research Center, L. Brent Bozell III brings us a column entitled Mel Gibson and the Politics of Bigotry and, in a nutshell, complains that there is a great deal of hypocrisy in that, when Gibson makes anti-Semitic remarks he is castigated without mercy for his racist perspective but when those in Hollywood routinely bash Christians it is simply ignored.

"They were nowhere to be found when “Da Vinci Code” actor Ian McKellen publicly accused the Catholic Church of “perhaps misleading us all this time,” and stated “the Bible should have a disclaimer in the front saying this is fiction.” And what of the movie itself, a bigoted anti-Catholic screed if ever there was one? Any denouncements from them?"

* * *

"How about the TV show “Committed” that featured a scene in which the main characters accidentally flush what they believe to be the Sacred Host down a toilet? Or “Judging Amy” with its storyline about a transvestite priest? What about the show “Rescue Me” with its plots about pedophilic priests and the character who has visions of Christ and Mary Magdalene, including one in which “Tommy” is having sex with Mary Magdalene, Jesus catches them and in a jealous rage tries to blow Tommy away with a shotgun?"

He closes the column with this:

"Gibson’s statements were awful, and deserved condemnation. But the anti-Catholic bigotry raging in Hollywood is far worse. Those who suddenly proclaim themselves to be shocked – shocked I tell you! – over Gibson’s religious bigotry, but have remained silent all these years as the Catholic Church is mercilessly pummeled, ridiculed and insulted, are frauds."

My first reaction was that, in order to be a bigot, one needed to be racially intolerant. Not so according to Miriam-Webster which defines bigot as "a person obstinately or intolerantly devoted to his or her own opinions and prejudices." The definition adds, though, "...especially : one who regards or treats the members of a group (as a racial or ethnic group) with hatred and intolerance."

L. Brent, in spite of his goofy name and general one-note philosophy (if you go back and read any of his columns it seems the hypocrisy and unfairness of Christian-bashing is a big deal for him) may have a point. The general painting of Christians with a wide satirical brush is pervasive. Some of it is understandable - the portrayal of Catholic priests as monstrous pedophiles is a way to deal with the genuine and earned outrage over the fact that so many have been and, what is worse, the church decided to cover it up. Given the track record of the Catholic Church when it comes to fucking little boys, while not all priests are perverted shitheads, it's just smart to be wary.

Other, less obvious and less deserving traits of the religious right in the US are pretty often the object of ridicule and the icons of the Christian faith are exposed to an inordinant amount of lambasting. Two questions come to mind and need exploring - does L. Brent have a leg to stand on and if so, why are we so bigoted against the predominant religion in this country?

In regards to the former, it is helpful to make a distinction between racist hate speech (which, given his state of mind and what he said at his arrest, doesn't really apply to Gibson. I mean "Jews start all the wars" is hardly a call for their mass extermination) and ridicule of a belief system. The anti-Semitism exhibited by Mad Max was not directed at the religious beliefs of Jews, but the race; the examples cited by L. Brent are exclusively directed at the beliefs of Christians. In fact, it is impossible to attack Christians on the basis of race because anyone, with no regard to race, can be a Christian.

L. Brent's argument begins to unravel when one realizes that most of his examples of Christian-bashing is less that than Christianity bashing - a ripping at the fundamental tenets of the religion rather than the people themselves. Granted, this approach leaves us with a tacit accusation that those who believe in Christ are stupid, but the point demonstrates that prejudging on the basis of religious choice is not the same as prejudging on the basis of ethnicity.

In spite of L. Brent basically stretching definitions to fit his "it's not fair" attitude, he does have a point - Christianity is pretty routinely bagged on in our pop culture entertainment. Why?

As I've indicated, Christianity is a choice and it is likewise a choice how fundamentalist one decides to be. The more fundamentalist, the less tolerant of others' beliefs Christians (or Mormons, or Scientologists) become. "A person obstinately or intolerantly devoted to his or her own opinions and prejudices" pretty much describes the extreme faces of the anti-abortion, anti-stem cell research, anti-gay rights, pro-school prayer, pro-FCC fine class of Christians, doesn't it? It's fair to acknowledge that not all Christians fit this extreme fundamentalist approach - in fact, the majority of Christians are far more progressive than one would think.

Those Christians "in charge" however, tend to be very vocal with their set of behaviors that they will not tolerate. And it is fun and appropriate to poke at the intolerant bigots of the world. In fact, it is rare to see more moderate Christians treated with the satirical comic's brush, only those who make the attempt to condemn the behavior of others on the basis of their chosen religion. Tom Cruise was not subject to the ire and ridicule he's received until he showed us his zealous, judgmental, Scientologist side and Mel got away with the perceived anti-Semitism in The Passion of the Christ but opened himself up by bashing Jews after he made a Jew-bashing movie which he denied bashed Jews.

Finally, if L. Brent gets his way and all those openly critical of Christianity are shut down, where does that leave us?

I'd suggest that the reaction to Gibson is over the top, first of all. While I disagree with his comments (I actually belief that religious fundamentalists usually start all the wars rather than the Jews and without regard to the specific religion) it is his right as an American citizen to speak his mind. If he doesn't like Jews, that's his business. I heard him and if I decide that his attitudes prevent me from enjoying his work, I won't support it. I really don't need Bill Maher and Arianna Huffington telling me to boycott Mel, but it is their right to spout it.

If we decide that by merely insulting a choice or group of people, we have violated some tenet of civilized living, then we are in trouble. We've already outlawed "hate speech", the benefits being that a) fewer people use the language of racial intolerance in public, but b) now I don't really know who the bigots are, do I? It was easier when someone spoke of "those niggers" or "that faggot" or "the South." Their speech identified them for me and I didn't have to guess or wonder. At a certain point, if all speech that indicates disdain for another is eliminated from the discussion, we'll politely smile at each other and quietly murder each other in the dead of night.

I say everyone should simply speak their mind and face the consequences. If I happen to think that Brandi is a prudish cunt for looking down her nose at Michelle L'Amour in the "America's Got Talent" gameshow, then I reserve the right to not only say it, but wear a t-shirt that proclaims it - if Brandi finds out and sends someone to beat my face in, like all freedoms, my freedom of speech came at a price. If Mel wants to bash the Jewish race, let him - and likewise, let him take the scorched earth policies of those he insulted - he earned the consequences. If religiously fundamental Christians want to ban gay rights, thwart scientific research, and fight against both effective birth control and abortion, then let them take it when South Park lampoons them.

$0.02

The Consistency of Cafeteria Macaroni and Cheese

Yet Another Reason to Boot These Fuckers Out of Washington

Blunt Didn't See Gore's Movie

Today in Energy and Environment Daily (sub. req’d), House Majority Whip Roy Blunt (R-MO) said that if he remains in power after the November elections, there will be no action on global warming for the entire 110th Congress:

Continued Republican House and Senate majorities would likely mean more of the same on climate. House Majority Whip Roy Blunt (R-Mo.) said he would oppose global warming mandates if Republicans control the 110th Congress. “I think the information is not adequate yet for us to do anything meaningful,” he said.

On a side note: does Roy look a little bit like a toady type character out of a Harry Potter book?

Never Serve a Half Baked Pie Again

There has been some bandying back and forth in the theatre blogosphere the last couple of days about the use of Neilsen ratings on Broadway and the doom we all face because of it.

Garrett spins out the scenario this way:

"Evil? No. Surprising? Of course not. But just think of when those little yellow sheets become a common sight in the theatre. And I don't just mean on Broadway. I'm sure there are a lot of nonprofit Artistic Directors (and, more importantly Board members) across the country reading with great interest this morning. While Broadway producers need the data for investment advice, nonprofits will find all kinds of reasons--after all, they do marketing, too. And hand out enough of these sheets, the message to the audience (or "responders") is clearly: tell us what you want and we'll give it to you."

In the comments section of that article, the Buddha Cowboy adds:

"Broadway is a lost cause, but you're right about the fear of "Homogenization" spreading to other areas. It will influence the premise, subject matter, type of actor, length of play, and many many other things. The same way the Hollywood runs now."

George responds:

"I've noticed a great deal of discussion on blogs and now in newspapers over the last six months that we need to change the means by which theatre is marketed and advertised, the assumption being that the work itself need not change. There's a wan, touching innocence in thinking that this would be true, but an innocence that is more childish than childlike. As I've noted in the past, theatre, at least some theatre, compromises its role as critical mirror to the culture when it invites its own absorption into the culture, a culture which includes the post-capitalist mindset of consumerism; instead, the mirror becomes a mere flatterer. "

Matt responds to George:

"So, I say instead of decrying the discussion about theater marketing, let's try to keep it on course and keep it honest. Let's identify that Broadway is moving further and further away from anything resembling what many of us actually do... and that's ok. We just need to make sure that in rejecting Broadway's core values (Mamma Mia!) we don't throw out the baby with the bathwater. We do need audiences."

And George responds:

"...ultimately the work will suffer. Mark my words. The brilliant resurgence of American filmmaking that took place in the 1960s and early 1970s stalled after Universal's first effort at mass marketing (tremendously successful) with Jaws. "

Is there anything inherently wrong with aping the marketing techniques of NBC, Universal and, by proxy, Turtlewax, Hooters, and Dr. Scholl's? Market Research brought us things like the Swiffer and Bottled Water. It may have contributed greatly to the downfall of network television, but HBO took it's place and who doesn't like HBO?

In all of this, I think George has a point that is getting lost in the posturing about how good or bad the marketing techniques are and what their affect on the work will be - the artists. The simple fact remains that there are artists whose desire for making the buck trumps the art. This is not to say that their art is shit - although a dangerously high level of commercial theater, designed for masscult (as George coins it) consumption, is, indeed, shit wrapped up in a sequined box. There is an equal and opposite level of theater created in spite of and in direct contradiction of commercial aims that suck just as hard as The Wedding Singer but lack the marketing budget.

No, George mentions this - "I've noticed a great deal of discussion ... that we need to change the means by which theatre is marketed and advertised, the assumption being that the work itself need not change." His implication is parroted on the Chicago Improv Message Board (sorry Rob) by Ed O'Rourke when he comments that it is the actors fault that the audience isn't listening to them (paraphrased and possibly taken out of context, but I agree with my interpretation, so deal with it).

The question this all begs is how, exactly, does the work need to change to meet the demands of an audience glutted with mindless entertainment and constant noise? How do you sell theater to a public that cannot escape being sold something all the time?

Assume for second that the financial success of a piece of theater had no place in defining the quality of the art. Assume that Hollywood, with it's emphasis on Box Office records in the first fifteen minutes of on sale time, has it wrong and those financial indicators have absolutely nothing to do with the quality of the art, just the saleability. Assume for just a second that most things that are embraced by a large portion of the public are, perhaps not shit, but at least have the consistency of cafeteria food - a bit bland and tasteless so the old folks can stomache it.

Those assumptions are all truth to me and after spending most of my energy and talent in the past six or seven years focused on the marketing of theater, my conclusion is that you get the audience you've cultivated. Cultivation is not about selling or advertising or marketing. Cultivating is about letting folks know you are there and being realistic enough to avoid half-assing the show. Cultivating is about really examining the show and making sure the folks who you think will get something out of it know about it and inviting them rather than selling them. I'd rather spend three years working on a play, perfecting lines and scrapping sections, having readings and feedback, and fully baking the pie before I serve it than put up show after show, bemoaning the lack of audience.

Don't mistake me - I'm still gonna bitch about the lack of audience. I'm still going to blame my location, timing, and marketing budget on the lack of numbers at the Box Office, however, my primary focus has to be the work, not the marketing. I'd rather put up a fucking brilliant show with small financial returns than produce a mediocre play that brings in the fat dime anytime.

Is Broadway a tired, skanky whore? Yup. Do I care? Not really - honestly, the soul of American theater isn't in New York anymore, they just think it is. I'd love to think it's here in Chicago, but it's probably in Minneapolis.

No Halloween Show for Me

I was right - I wasn't able to do both shows I was cast in and had to choose. I chose "No Exit" because I've always wanted to do that play. Auditioned yesterday for Chicago Dramatists' Generals. Teaching again this weekend at Northwestern. Life's a cakewalk.

Moses and a Brontosaurus Walk into a Bar...

The South - They Just Can't Help Themselves

I know that it rattles some cages to disparage the South. I get it. It's like being Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink and not wanting Andrew McCarthy to know where you live - you simply don't want anyone to know about your sad, loser dad and the run-down bungalo you live in. I understand the desire to claim the South as better and more complicated than the "Larry the Cable Guy" stereotype.

I understand because I am from the South. Not only that, but the Hall family line is like the family in the film Mask, where Eric Stolz has the big, elephant-man head, and Cher plays his mom - that's my paternus. AND I went to High School in Kansas, home of the "intelligent design" movement and Operation Rescue. Seriously, how I became an angry liberal doing theater in Illinois is freaking mystery.

All that said, what the fuck are these Kentuckians thinking?!

PETERSBURG, Ky. (July 31) - Like most natural history museums, this one has exhibits showing dinosaurs roaming the Earth. Except here, the giant reptiles share the forest with Adam and Eve.

* * *
Visitors to the museum, a few miles from Cincinnati, will be able to watch the story of creation unfold in a 180-seat special-effects theater, see a 40-foot-tall recreation of a section of Noah's Ark and stare into the jaws of robotic dinosaurs.

"It's education, but it's also doing it in an entertaining way," Ham said.

* * *
Ham said he believes most fossils are the result of the Great Flood described in Genesis.

* * *
John Morris, president of the Institute for Creation Research in San Diego, an organization that promotes creationism, said the museum will affirm the doubts many people have about science, namely the notion that man evolved from lower forms of life.

"Americans just aren't gullible enough to believe that they came from a fish," he said.

Here's the thing - and it makes me shake with fear - these fucking retards had $21 million donated to build this thing! There are enough people around the world that believe strongly enough to privately donate $21 million to build a museum that combines fact with fantasy but does not include Goofy or Daffy Duck!

I know, I know - we don't help the debate by calling people stupid - that just entrenches them in their positions, but COME ON! This is just jaw-droppingly stupid and an unbelievable waste of money in a state that ranks between 39th to 46th overall in a comparison to the nation's public education system.

Mel Gibson's Real Disease

I completely agree that Gibson's meltdown isn't necessarily news, but I want to observe a couple of things regarding his recent drunken tirade against Jews.

• I find it interesting that the overall Jewish reaction to Gibson is playing out like the Scientologist approach of complete and utter destruction of Mel's livelihood because he is an intolerant, racist shithead. I'm not excusing Gibson's warped perspective, but, given the David and Goliath thing playing itself out between Israel and Lebanon, are the Jews just so tired of being fucked with that a scorched earth policy is the new motis operandi?

• What the fuck is going down in Australia, huh? The dude creating the crazy creationist museum is from Australia, too.

• I understand the need to call addiction a disease but I think it's a bunch of horseshit, personally. To quote a comic recently, no one has ever tried to sell me a bag of tuberculosis. Gibson's disease isn't alcoholism - his disease is a systematic racism that was hammered into his brain by a crazy, hyper-Catholic, racist nutjob of a father. Mel got to choose whether or not to have a drink. He didn't get to choose his father.

Quote That Makes Me Go 'Hmmmm'

From What Makes Political Theater Effective—Or Not by John Heilpern

"No play or work of art ever changed the world. They change the way we perceive the world."

Stating the Obvious

The Effects of Impotent Rage

They called it the car for Everyman. Henry Ford himself called it a car for the "great multitude. " It was functional and simple, like your sewing machine or your cast-iron stove.

You could learn to drive it in less than a day, and you could get any color you wanted, so long as it was black.

When Ford first conceived the Model T, it took 13 hours to assemble. Within five years, he was turning out a vehicle every 90 seconds.

Of course, the real invention wasn't the car; it was the assembly line that built it.

Pretty soon, other businesses had borrowed the same techniques. Seamstresses became button sewers. Furniture makers became knob turners.

It was the beginning and the end of imagination...
-- Opening lines to the screenplay "Seabiscuit"

Rage has always been around. Loneliness has always existed. These are not new conditions in the human experience. Neither is the systematic devaluation of the working class - that's been around since they built the freaking pyramids on the backs of slaves.

Excerpted from Party of One

According to a study published last month, Americans have surprisingly fewer close friends now than they did 20 years ago. The drop was especially steep for people 18 to 34, who went from 3.4 friends in 1985 to 2 in 2004, while older people went from 2.8 to 2, according to the survey of 1,467 people.

One of the survey's authors, Duke University professor Lynn Smith-Lovin, noted, "This is a big social change, and it indicates something that's not good for our society."

In America, though, the cocktail being slowly stirred uses parts of this deafening loneliness, the increasing greed of the corporate culture, and the Party Line that Americans are somehow "more special" than citizens of other countries to bring things to slow boil of impotent rage, most obviously exhibited by white males, but pervasive in everyone you see.

Excerpted from Death in the Supermarket

Until the late 1980s, no one had even conceived of the workplace as a potential killing zone where any co-worker is a potential rage murderer. Today, gossiping over who is most likely to "go postal" in your office is one of the favorite water cooler conversation topics -- and also a sly way to make sure you're on the witchhunting end of the workplace clique, rather than on the suspected-weirdo end.

In "Death in the Supermarket," writer Mark Ames posits that not simple psychosis or an influx of guns or even the simplicity of hazing are the root causes for the workplace rage massacre that occurred in a Safeway in Denver. Ames suggests that the corporate culture (specifically 'Reaganomics' but I think that that is a bit shortsighted given that corporate greed existed long before Reagan ever heard of trickle down theory) that espouses profit for the super rich over the basic dignity of the common worker is the root cause of this trend of workers going completely bonkers and blowing holes in anyone and everyone on a Tuesday.

Read the article to hear about what a greedy fuckbag Safeway CEO Steve Burd is - it won't surprise you that a CEO of a major corporation fucks the workers consistently to ensure that the stockholders make an extra million dollars here and there. In fact, none of this is surprising, but like global warming, we choose to ignore the problem in spite of the steady knocking of the Grim Reaper on our screen doors.

Ask most Americans today, and they'll tell you -- even the ones who stand to lose from it -- that a company's highest priority is not its responsibility to its employees, but its responsibility to its tiny clique of obscenely rich major shareholders.

Sound familiar? Too me, it sounds like the Republican Party Line, replacing "company" with "America" and "employees" with "citizens." In a society where the average man (and woman) is devalued to the point we're headed in, fascism is the only method of control - a measure of socialist democracy is in order, in the order of FDR's New Deal, before the dude going postal stops setting his sights on his fellow workers or middle management and goes for the Steve Burds of the world. Which, upon reflection, might just be worth waiting for.

Boy - Are We a Bunch of Stupid Shitheads?

NEWSFLASH - In spite of his protestations to the contrary, Mel Gibson is an anti-Semite!

NEWSFLASH - In spite of a whopping 50% of people polled who believe that Iraq had WMDs in 2003, they didn't and anyone who tells you differently is a lying piece of shit!

NEWSFLASH - In spite of hopes to the contrary, Lindsey Lohan is a lazy, party girl with marginal talent!

NEWSFLASH - When the heatwaves hit, it's the poor neighborhoods that lose power first!

NEWSFLASH - The federal minimum wage is only $5.15 an hour and there is no National Health care because the politicians on both sides of the aisle don't fucking care about you any more than Safeway's Steve Burd does!

NEWSFLASH - In spite of all the positive stereotypes reinforced in the Southern States, they still hate fags and abortionists!

NEWSFLASH - The world IS NOT safer under the Bush Doctrine, it's a fucking violent quagmire at every turn. I want Katherine Harris and Antonin Scalia to be burned alive.

Whaddya know? [smacks self on forehead] Whooda thunk?

Quote That Makes Me Go 'Hmmmm'

"[The Public Theatre's Oskar] Eustis was also compelling in his concern for the increasingly "blurred line" between the commercial and nonprofit elements in theatre. "What's the 'not' in not-for-profit?" is the question we need to keep in front of us, he admonished. ("The public library doesn't have to make a profit," he added. Unfortunately, I could think of some local governments that disagree!)."
The Playgoer