As this year comes to a close, I find myself wondering if I should just call it quits as an actor. This past weekend, I got a response from a recent audition: would I be interested in a small non-speaking part? I brushed it off and did something I never do: I turned them down. Will I hear from them again? I doubt it. As the weekend continued, I realized that this bothered me more than I had expected.
The most important skill an actor can have is to be able to take rejection. I guess I'm really lacking with that. I am now hit with a question: am I any good? Sitting in the car I can listen to the radio and I think my singing sounds good. It sounds good to me. But, anyone else that might hear me will have a different opinion. To them, I sound terrible. What if that is what it's like when I act?
What do I have to go on? The opinions of friends. The opinions of teachers of acting classes for which I pay. And, counter-balancing that, I have a ton of rejections. Maybe it is my brown skin or maybe I'm too old or maybe it's just that I suck. In any of those cases, I'm just wasting my time.
And maybe I am wasting my time.
I felt this during my acting classes on Monday. I think everyone in class could tell I was feeling down, and my heart wasn't into it. I still tried to listen and learn, so I got something out of these classes. I wonder, though, why am I bothering? I'm in these classes yet I find myself with no hope at all in taking what I am learning in these classes and applying them. What's the point?
I can hear plenty of my friends offering me reassurance, but the real reassurance I need right now is for someone in some freaking audition committee to do one of two things. First, offer me a part that's actually interesting. Second . . . if there was something I need to work on, please tell me honestly what! I don't need people telling me that I'm "good" and that I should hold on: I hear plenty of that.
In the middle of these classes, one of the students got up and performed a monologue from my play "Leia". She was good, and everyone (including the instructor) was thoroughly amazed at what I had written. I don't think I mind that. Maybe that's where my future in theatre lies. I've always suspected that would be the case.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
What was wrong with "Rent"?
The other day, my boys and I were chatting about the play "Rent". My younger son loves the play. He participated in the show when a local group performed it this past summer, and a few weeks ago he watched it off-Broadway.
I didn't particularly care for it. The movie came out the year after the movie of "Chicago", and promised to continue that tradition: a well made movie version of a very popular modern musical. It didn't. Where "Chicago" was intelligent, fascinating, and ever so entertaining . . . "Rent" wasn't. Leah loved the movie, so perhaps, I wondered, my memories were being tainted. This past summer, I watched a local community theatre company perform the play. This time, I saw a bunch of talented young people that loved the play and gave it their all. And in the end, I remarked: "I guess I really don't like the play."
So, last night we were talking a bit about that. What didn't I like about the play?
I explained that in my college days, back in the late 80's, I used to hang around with people like this. People that sat there, saying "I'm misunderstood . . . society doesn't understand me" and occasionally staring blankly ahead and saying "why are there . . . poor people?" while everyone else gasped "wow, he's so deep!" This was my social circle back in the 80's. "Rent" presented me with 2 1/2 hours of these people.
We had cool-guy-with-the-guitar, who is artistic and misunderstood. He mopes around the play because he wants to write that perfect song. The song he winds up writing, in my opinion, was the weakest song in the show (I felt the same thing about the song "Purple Rain" from the movie of that name). We had cool-guy-with-the-camera, who is artistic and misunderstood. We had girl-wearing-cat-ears, who is artistic and misunderstood, and wants people to moo. We have the philosophy professor, who is deep and misunderstood. Oh, and by the way, we have stripper-with-the-heart-of-gold, guy-that-sold-out-but-has-a-change-of-heart, and the trannie-with-the-heart-of-gold. You might say I found this boring.
I found myself thinking "will one of these people PLEASE go out and find a job?" And then one of them did, but then quit that job. Oh well. In the end, I just wanted to slap these people.
I didn't particularly care for it. The movie came out the year after the movie of "Chicago", and promised to continue that tradition: a well made movie version of a very popular modern musical. It didn't. Where "Chicago" was intelligent, fascinating, and ever so entertaining . . . "Rent" wasn't. Leah loved the movie, so perhaps, I wondered, my memories were being tainted. This past summer, I watched a local community theatre company perform the play. This time, I saw a bunch of talented young people that loved the play and gave it their all. And in the end, I remarked: "I guess I really don't like the play."
So, last night we were talking a bit about that. What didn't I like about the play?
I explained that in my college days, back in the late 80's, I used to hang around with people like this. People that sat there, saying "I'm misunderstood . . . society doesn't understand me" and occasionally staring blankly ahead and saying "why are there . . . poor people?" while everyone else gasped "wow, he's so deep!" This was my social circle back in the 80's. "Rent" presented me with 2 1/2 hours of these people.
We had cool-guy-with-the-guitar, who is artistic and misunderstood. He mopes around the play because he wants to write that perfect song. The song he winds up writing, in my opinion, was the weakest song in the show (I felt the same thing about the song "Purple Rain" from the movie of that name). We had cool-guy-with-the-camera, who is artistic and misunderstood. We had girl-wearing-cat-ears, who is artistic and misunderstood, and wants people to moo. We have the philosophy professor, who is deep and misunderstood. Oh, and by the way, we have stripper-with-the-heart-of-gold, guy-that-sold-out-but-has-a-change-of-heart, and the trannie-with-the-heart-of-gold. You might say I found this boring.
I found myself thinking "will one of these people PLEASE go out and find a job?" And then one of them did, but then quit that job. Oh well. In the end, I just wanted to slap these people.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Almost Managing My New Years Resolution?
The joke is that my New Years resolution was that I would get through this year without moving a girlfriend in with me. It's now mid-October: 2 1/2 months, and I can claim victory! In actuality, my resolution was that I would no longer stay in relationships where I question whether I value the relationship more than the other. I don't question this with Jen, so while I can claim victory, it's a bit of a hollow victory. If I hadn't met Jen, if I was in a relationship with someone like Leah, have I changed enough that I would leave? Or would I continue to hang on, hoping something would change?
I was thinking about my older son the other day. A few years ago, he was very lonely and wanted a girlfriend. He got involved with a girl named Annie. Annie is very manipulative and knows how to "play" people. She was very controlling to my son, making very clear her agenda to separate him from his friends, his family, and anything he loved. My son went along with this, doing things like giving up theatre or pretending to like the "Twilight" series because she insisted he do so. But one day it just went too far. He came home and told me they had broken up. It was like an on/off switch had been flicked, and he had no more feelings for Annie. She was hurting and I wanted him to talk to her, make her understand what had happened . . . he refused. It was over. She was gone from his life.
At first, I thought he was being quite heartless. I later speculated: given my crappy record with breakups, perhaps I'm not one to talk. Perhaps my son was doing this correctly?
The other day, I found myself thinking about what my son has seen in relationships. He has watched me in two bad relationships, first Joni and then Leah. He watched me being patient, giving second and third and fourth chances, and hoping that something would change. He watched how I kept getting disappointed and hurt, and he watched how ironically the woman wound up leaving me. What kind of lesson was I teaching him? At least he learned that this was not the way he should proceed! At least, he learned that in the end.
That's the tough part for me. Have I even taught myself my own lessons? Last year, Leah's parents threatened me. I watched Leah that day run outside and put on a pouty face, even though she claimed she didn't know what had happened. I believed her. She demanded that I not talk about it. I didn't follow that, but I understood. She said she didn't believe me, that "other sources" (which turned out to be her mother) claimed a very different story. Here, I told her it was over between us, but I didn't follow through. When she came back the next day and said she realized I was telling the truth, I accepted her back into my life with open arms. Was she really acting like someone that had a change of heart? She stopped talking to her mother, but there were other reasons for that . . . her father was a part of this incident, and she was exchanging cat pictures with him. Again, I understood. When it became clear that she had done absolutely nothing, I understood and I made excuses for her. What did she have to do to make me see?
The answer was that she had to take her parents' side, deny their racism and make up an incident between her and me to justify their behavior. And she had to leave. In her absence, I finally connected the dots. I realized that she had a habit of pissing me off, saying whatever it took to calm me, and NOT fixing anything. I realized that she, very likely, knew her parents' plan to threaten me, and did nothing about it. This all came to me when she was gone. Gee, that was useful.
Is there another Leah out there in my future? I can sit here and say that I am with Jen now, so the answer is "no". Right now, Jen seems a good person that cares about me. If I am right about her, maybe I will never know. Maybe it's just a question that will stay in the back of my mind. I hope so.
I was thinking about my older son the other day. A few years ago, he was very lonely and wanted a girlfriend. He got involved with a girl named Annie. Annie is very manipulative and knows how to "play" people. She was very controlling to my son, making very clear her agenda to separate him from his friends, his family, and anything he loved. My son went along with this, doing things like giving up theatre or pretending to like the "Twilight" series because she insisted he do so. But one day it just went too far. He came home and told me they had broken up. It was like an on/off switch had been flicked, and he had no more feelings for Annie. She was hurting and I wanted him to talk to her, make her understand what had happened . . . he refused. It was over. She was gone from his life.
At first, I thought he was being quite heartless. I later speculated: given my crappy record with breakups, perhaps I'm not one to talk. Perhaps my son was doing this correctly?
The other day, I found myself thinking about what my son has seen in relationships. He has watched me in two bad relationships, first Joni and then Leah. He watched me being patient, giving second and third and fourth chances, and hoping that something would change. He watched how I kept getting disappointed and hurt, and he watched how ironically the woman wound up leaving me. What kind of lesson was I teaching him? At least he learned that this was not the way he should proceed! At least, he learned that in the end.
That's the tough part for me. Have I even taught myself my own lessons? Last year, Leah's parents threatened me. I watched Leah that day run outside and put on a pouty face, even though she claimed she didn't know what had happened. I believed her. She demanded that I not talk about it. I didn't follow that, but I understood. She said she didn't believe me, that "other sources" (which turned out to be her mother) claimed a very different story. Here, I told her it was over between us, but I didn't follow through. When she came back the next day and said she realized I was telling the truth, I accepted her back into my life with open arms. Was she really acting like someone that had a change of heart? She stopped talking to her mother, but there were other reasons for that . . . her father was a part of this incident, and she was exchanging cat pictures with him. Again, I understood. When it became clear that she had done absolutely nothing, I understood and I made excuses for her. What did she have to do to make me see?
The answer was that she had to take her parents' side, deny their racism and make up an incident between her and me to justify their behavior. And she had to leave. In her absence, I finally connected the dots. I realized that she had a habit of pissing me off, saying whatever it took to calm me, and NOT fixing anything. I realized that she, very likely, knew her parents' plan to threaten me, and did nothing about it. This all came to me when she was gone. Gee, that was useful.
Is there another Leah out there in my future? I can sit here and say that I am with Jen now, so the answer is "no". Right now, Jen seems a good person that cares about me. If I am right about her, maybe I will never know. Maybe it's just a question that will stay in the back of my mind. I hope so.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
What was wrong with "42nd Street"?
I was chatting with a work-friend recently. He noticed that I wore a lot of t-shirts for musicals. Mainly, these are for shows either I have been in or I have been connected to. He mentioned that "42nd Street" was one of the few musicals he liked. I tried to hold off on going in to my "42nd Street" rant.
True, I was in "42nd Street", and I felt that the performance was lacking in many ways. I felt that we bit off a bit too much. One of the strengths of this theatre group is that it has several directors working together, but this time three of the four directors were in the show. Further, there was a huge emphasis on teaching the cast tap dance for the large musical numbers. Something had to "give" and something did: the acting. I noticed that I received a grand total of two "notes" for the entire production ("could he be a little more Texan?" and "Don't cross in front of those people, cross behind them"). I decided that at a crucial scene for my character, rather than play it over-the-top for laughs, I was going to play it straight. My character was going to have a broken heart. NO ONE plays this scene this way. And . . . none of the directors had any notes about that? Most of the cast did a fine job with the acting, but some people were positively dreadful.
I am hoping this theatre group knows that this was too much, that the directing staff needs to stick with directing.
But that is neither here nor there. One big problem was the source material.
When I first read the script for "42nd Street", I thought "um . . . okay." The play didn't quite work for me. Later, I realized what was going on. I noticed that songs like "Lullaby of Broadway" and "We're In The Money" weren't in the movie "42nd Street". The play was written in the 80's, but I knew those songs were much older than that. I looked for the source of the songs and I discovered they were in other musicals made by the director of the "42nd Street" movie, Busby Berkeley. Okay, it made sense now! The play "42nd Street" was actually a tribute to the works of Busby Berkeley! And the "play" part was just a few scenes thrown in to stitch it all together.
And that, of course, is a problem for me. One of my sayings, to which no one seems to agree, is that there are these wonderful things called "concerts". If your emphasis is going to be on singing and dancing, throw a concert. A play is about drama, a play is about acting. A friend once told me that Gilbert, from Gilbert & Sullivan, used to say that he wanted "actors that sing", not "singers that act". If "42nd Street" was just going to be a pageant of big Berkeley-esque musical numbers, more power to them. But, they tried to put a play in there, and the play was . . . dreadful!
Now, I'm not going to criticize the fact that 90% of the cast are only there for musical numbers. I must confess that I did the same thing in my musical, "Vampe", although I think I did a better job. Unfortunately, this is true of one of the leads, Billy Lawler. What can we say about Billy? He is full of himself, a little over-dramatic, and has fallen for Peggy. And that amounts to maybe 10 minutes of stage time. He's there to do the big "We're In The Money" dance! "Anytime Annie", even with an actress that didn't slur her lines . . . was there to say two lines and take part in some musical numbers. Burt? Maggie? All were just a bunch of blank characters, with about as much personality as "Man With Clipboard".
And what about Peggy? She's a great dancer, she's pretty, and she's dumb. And that's about it. She's thrust into stardom (note that she is thrust into it: from the moment she shows up, she doesn't actually do anything to become a star, it all just sort of happens), and in the end she's a great dancer, she's pretty, and she's dumb. True, part of the theme is that stardom doesn't change her . . . but would it be a crime if her character could grow just a little bit?
Julian, the director, gets some great speech, but is literally "nothing" as a character. Nothing. The sad thing is that the movie really gave us some source material, that was forgotten in the play. In the movie, Julian was very ill, and there were hints that he was dying. Also, there was a hint in the movie that Julian was gay. All of these were stripped out of the play for some reason (it would have added maybe 5 minutes to the play if they were kept in), and with that it turned Julian into a barking piece of cardboard.
My character, Abner, was only a little more interesting. There is supposed to be a love triangle. Abner is daffily unaware that his love, Dorothy, is seeing Pat behind his back. Dorothy is just using Abner . . . doesn't this bother anyone? For a nice change of pace, Pat isn't there to take part in a bunch of musical numbers. He's . . . just . . . there. At least the movie hinted that he was also falling for Peggy.
Dorothy was the most interesting character. She goes through most of the play as a bitch, using her rich boyfriend to fund a play to make her a star again. She's apparently not very good, though. She gets injured, thus ending her performing career, and has a change of heart. She marries Pat and becomes nice. This transformation, the most interesting part of the story . . . is not onstage! We're too busy watching Peggy rehearse for the final show.
My big scene, as Abner, is when he tells off Dorothy. She splashes wine on his face and storms off to call Pat. This is meant to be played for laughs. Abner declares that Dorothy is out of the play. Everyone protests, and Julian sends to dancers to flirt with Abner to convince him to not pull the plug. Finally, Maggie flashes her shoulder at Abner. Despite Dorothy's behavior, the show goes on with her as the lead. But, she winds up slipping and injuring herself (and blaming Peggy), thus having her removed from the show twice. This was not a well-structured plot point! In particular, I found Julian and Maggie's actions despicable. Abner is just realizing that he was being used by Dorothy, so their solution is to . . . use him a little more? I decided to play this moment "straight". Abner has been suspicious of Dorothy all through the play, and now he's had enough. She is drunk and rude to him, and he yells at her. When she storms off, he stands there heartbroken. The rest of the cast picked up on this, and instead of dancing girls and Maggie seducing Abner, we played things differently. Abner couldn't bring himself to end the show and put everyone out of work. And Maggie wasn't trying to seduce him, she was just being a friend. Of course, this huge change in the scene was completely forgotten: it was followed by several amazing dance sequences, so no one remembered my performance. Oh well.
I think "42nd Street" reflects something I dislike in so many musicals. It was nothing more than a pageant, a concert. It was a dreadful play, but no one seemed to mind because of the great musical numbers. I keep reminding myself that, like 99% of the musicals out there, this will be forgotten a century from now. And our performance of it is probably still forgotten.
True, I was in "42nd Street", and I felt that the performance was lacking in many ways. I felt that we bit off a bit too much. One of the strengths of this theatre group is that it has several directors working together, but this time three of the four directors were in the show. Further, there was a huge emphasis on teaching the cast tap dance for the large musical numbers. Something had to "give" and something did: the acting. I noticed that I received a grand total of two "notes" for the entire production ("could he be a little more Texan?" and "Don't cross in front of those people, cross behind them"). I decided that at a crucial scene for my character, rather than play it over-the-top for laughs, I was going to play it straight. My character was going to have a broken heart. NO ONE plays this scene this way. And . . . none of the directors had any notes about that? Most of the cast did a fine job with the acting, but some people were positively dreadful.
I am hoping this theatre group knows that this was too much, that the directing staff needs to stick with directing.
But that is neither here nor there. One big problem was the source material.
When I first read the script for "42nd Street", I thought "um . . . okay." The play didn't quite work for me. Later, I realized what was going on. I noticed that songs like "Lullaby of Broadway" and "We're In The Money" weren't in the movie "42nd Street". The play was written in the 80's, but I knew those songs were much older than that. I looked for the source of the songs and I discovered they were in other musicals made by the director of the "42nd Street" movie, Busby Berkeley. Okay, it made sense now! The play "42nd Street" was actually a tribute to the works of Busby Berkeley! And the "play" part was just a few scenes thrown in to stitch it all together.
And that, of course, is a problem for me. One of my sayings, to which no one seems to agree, is that there are these wonderful things called "concerts". If your emphasis is going to be on singing and dancing, throw a concert. A play is about drama, a play is about acting. A friend once told me that Gilbert, from Gilbert & Sullivan, used to say that he wanted "actors that sing", not "singers that act". If "42nd Street" was just going to be a pageant of big Berkeley-esque musical numbers, more power to them. But, they tried to put a play in there, and the play was . . . dreadful!
Now, I'm not going to criticize the fact that 90% of the cast are only there for musical numbers. I must confess that I did the same thing in my musical, "Vampe", although I think I did a better job. Unfortunately, this is true of one of the leads, Billy Lawler. What can we say about Billy? He is full of himself, a little over-dramatic, and has fallen for Peggy. And that amounts to maybe 10 minutes of stage time. He's there to do the big "We're In The Money" dance! "Anytime Annie", even with an actress that didn't slur her lines . . . was there to say two lines and take part in some musical numbers. Burt? Maggie? All were just a bunch of blank characters, with about as much personality as "Man With Clipboard".
And what about Peggy? She's a great dancer, she's pretty, and she's dumb. And that's about it. She's thrust into stardom (note that she is thrust into it: from the moment she shows up, she doesn't actually do anything to become a star, it all just sort of happens), and in the end she's a great dancer, she's pretty, and she's dumb. True, part of the theme is that stardom doesn't change her . . . but would it be a crime if her character could grow just a little bit?
Julian, the director, gets some great speech, but is literally "nothing" as a character. Nothing. The sad thing is that the movie really gave us some source material, that was forgotten in the play. In the movie, Julian was very ill, and there were hints that he was dying. Also, there was a hint in the movie that Julian was gay. All of these were stripped out of the play for some reason (it would have added maybe 5 minutes to the play if they were kept in), and with that it turned Julian into a barking piece of cardboard.
My character, Abner, was only a little more interesting. There is supposed to be a love triangle. Abner is daffily unaware that his love, Dorothy, is seeing Pat behind his back. Dorothy is just using Abner . . . doesn't this bother anyone? For a nice change of pace, Pat isn't there to take part in a bunch of musical numbers. He's . . . just . . . there. At least the movie hinted that he was also falling for Peggy.
Dorothy was the most interesting character. She goes through most of the play as a bitch, using her rich boyfriend to fund a play to make her a star again. She's apparently not very good, though. She gets injured, thus ending her performing career, and has a change of heart. She marries Pat and becomes nice. This transformation, the most interesting part of the story . . . is not onstage! We're too busy watching Peggy rehearse for the final show.
My big scene, as Abner, is when he tells off Dorothy. She splashes wine on his face and storms off to call Pat. This is meant to be played for laughs. Abner declares that Dorothy is out of the play. Everyone protests, and Julian sends to dancers to flirt with Abner to convince him to not pull the plug. Finally, Maggie flashes her shoulder at Abner. Despite Dorothy's behavior, the show goes on with her as the lead. But, she winds up slipping and injuring herself (and blaming Peggy), thus having her removed from the show twice. This was not a well-structured plot point! In particular, I found Julian and Maggie's actions despicable. Abner is just realizing that he was being used by Dorothy, so their solution is to . . . use him a little more? I decided to play this moment "straight". Abner has been suspicious of Dorothy all through the play, and now he's had enough. She is drunk and rude to him, and he yells at her. When she storms off, he stands there heartbroken. The rest of the cast picked up on this, and instead of dancing girls and Maggie seducing Abner, we played things differently. Abner couldn't bring himself to end the show and put everyone out of work. And Maggie wasn't trying to seduce him, she was just being a friend. Of course, this huge change in the scene was completely forgotten: it was followed by several amazing dance sequences, so no one remembered my performance. Oh well.
I think "42nd Street" reflects something I dislike in so many musicals. It was nothing more than a pageant, a concert. It was a dreadful play, but no one seemed to mind because of the great musical numbers. I keep reminding myself that, like 99% of the musicals out there, this will be forgotten a century from now. And our performance of it is probably still forgotten.
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