Extra Criticum

Is it just me? Or is this poster creepy?

And why would I not be surprised if the entire book to this musical contained not one instance of the word "died," as in "he or she died," rather than the more socially acceptable yet ultimately vague and pointless verb "pass." Homosexuals sometimes pass for straight. Some Jews pass as Gentiles. But when we breathe our last breath, we die, we don't pass.

The Color of Our Audience

I have a dream that we will one day live in a nation where our choice of play will not be based on the color of the skin of the actors on stage but by the stories told and the questions grappled with by the playwright.

Saw Katori Hall's Mountaintop yesterday. It's a wildly ambitious play. And I'm really glad I went. Even though I'm not black.

Can stripping away government funding actually erode patron loyalty?

It's that time of the year. When end-of-year appeals from all the non-profits come crashing into our mailboxes and INBoxes. I opened one such letter from Channel Thirteen, our locate PBS affiliate and my reaction was surprising.

I was annoyed. And I didn't feel remotely like pulling out my checkbook. Why?

Quotables: Jerry Stahl

From time to time, Extra Criticum authors will post a quote from something that has stuck with us over the years and is, as they say, quotable. The following is from Jerry Stahl's memoir PERMANENT MIDNIGHT. Here he sums up Hollywood beautifully.

Street Theatre: Talking to the Elderly Like Children

So, I've been visiting a loved one in a nursing home recently. And I find myself fascinated by the way the staff -- doctors, nurses, social workers, etc. etc. -- speak to old people.

It's a lot like the way adults who have never had children of their own can sometimes be heard addressing toddlers.

The pitch of the voice rises to a new register, I suppose in an attempt to match the register of the little person they are addressing. Of course with old folks, that doesn't really apply.

Up on our feet: the value of workshop vs. reading a new play

I recently completed a three-day workshop of my latest play. And it got me thinking about the usual developmental path new work takes in this country. Outside the sphere of developmental gatherings such as Seven Devils, Bay Area Playwrights, O’Neill and PlayPenn (to name just 4), most plays simply get a series of public or semi-public readings by professional actors until there’s an actual production and rehearsals begin. Once rehearsals begin with a first performance end date in place, there really isn’t the time for the sort of work we spent the last three days doing.

Screenwriting Seminar in NYC Starts Jan. 12th

I'm offering an expanded version of the class i taught at Harvard earlier this year. This will be a 6-wk. course offered in Manhattan. Enrollment limited to 8. Application deadline: this Saturday December 31, 2011.
See below for details:

Moral Quandary: Is it wrong to vote if you haven't seen everything?

It's awards season. And as a PGA member, for me specifically that means voting for the PGA Awards. Screeners are flooding my mailbox. And for the first time, family commitments leave me wondering if I'll find time to watch them all. So my question is this: Is it unethical to vote for such things if one hasn't seen absolutely every nominated title? What do you think? Do I have a moral obligation to sit this year out?

Shame: Haiku Review

A movie called Shame

Surface skimmed by director

He has no idea

What would be a reasonable star to seating capacity ratio for theatre?

Saw The Cherry Orchard at Classic Stage Co. the other night. The production is a lot of fun. Most of the performances are stellar. Especially outstanding (no big surprise) is Alvin Epstein in his third turn as Firs, the loyal elder servant who ends the play by falling asleep in the abandoned house he has called home for most of his life. There aren't too many seats in this Off-Broadway house. It's a great venue. The three-quarter thrust makes for intimate theatre. I was seated in the back row of the center section which is Row F. That should tell you all you need to know about just how intimate this space is. Sam Waterston was seated directly in front of me -- his daughters are in the cast. The cast features a lot of star power and it got me thinking.

If producers pack casts with famous names to sell tickets, perhaps there ought to be an agreed-upon star to seating capacity ratio. For example, if, say, Dianne Wiest can by herself fill a 500-seat house to capacity, maybe the rest of the cast should be peopled with the un-famous. Otherwise what we have is a waste of a valuable asset: star box office power. Let's do the math.

Choosing Ourselves Down to Zero?

I had a fascinating chat with the Artistic Director of a struggling regional theatre yesterday and among many interesting tidbits that were exchanged, he said something that kind of blew my mind. He said the problem ailing most American regional theatres today is that they all share a similar aesthetic. In other words you can't really distinguish between the seasons of The Guthrie, Long Wharf and South Coast Rep, for example. I had never heard it put quite this way. At first I balked but then I thought he actually had an interesting point.  I filtered his comment through my own playwright-focused lens to mean: they’re all basically pulling shows from the same pool of writers. I imagine if you sat down and made a list of all the writers who’ve been produced at the major regionals over the past 15 years. I doubt it would exceed 200. Do you? Now that may seem like a high number but it’s not really when you consider that doollee.com boasts more than 20,0000 playwrights in its online database. Even if you allow that 80% of them may be “talent-free,” (an expression coined by my pal Jerry Kaplan), that would mean that there are at least 4,000 who regularly churn out scripts worthy of production. And yet we all know the number of well-funded productions in well-established regionals in this country doesn’t even approach that number. Well, there's really not the audience for that much theatre but that's a subject for another post altogether... But I digress. What struck me about this gentleman’s comment (and I’m not naming him because I expect he was talking off the cuff and off the record) was that this was not true 25 years ago when the likes of Robert Brustein, Ellen Stewart and Garland Wright (to name just three off the top of my head) were leading theatre companies.

In response to Licata's post "On Rejection"

David. Great post. You reminded me of this amazing letter that Robert Ross Parker, former Editor of The Dramatist magazine found in the Dramatists Guild archives. Click on the image to enlarge and read. It's priceless.

Antonio Sacre. Standing Ovation Earned.

Just got back from trudging through sleet and snow in October to see the single performance given by storyteller extraordinaire, Antonio Sacre at the United Solo Festival at Theater Row. This festival is amazing. That they somehow manage to gather and program 66 unique shows into a single festival space over a span of just a few weeks is in itself an amazing feat and possible fodder for a future post. But right now I want to talk about the incredible show I just enjoyed. In fact, I have to say this was the first time in recent memory that I have stood at the end of a show because I was honestly moved to do so from the bottom of my heart and soul. Even if no one else had been standing (but of course everyone was) as Antonio made his way to the final brilliant moment, there was not one single part of my being not moving in the same direction, up, up, up to cheer this brilliant artist on. It's a shame the United Solo fest only gives each show one shot. But then, when you're programming 66, that is, perhaps, understandable.

Filmmakers with a dream: just start. It's the hardest part. You'll see.

I ran into an aspiring filmmaker recently at a party. We worked together on a big budget feature a few years ago. He was working one of those jobs many aspiring filmmakers work to get by. An assistant kind of gig. The kind of job where you can learn a hell of a lot, actually take home some decent pay, maybe put away enough for a downpayment, but definitely not the sort of job that gives you any downtime in which to nurture your own pet projects.

At the time, he'd shown me a script he was working on for a short. I thought it was pretty fantastic. A kind of sci fi thriller thing. The kind of thing that I wish I could do but know I just don't have in my DNA so it makes me admire it in others all the more.

I asked him about the project. I even remembered his main character's name.

He said he'd been too busy working on a bunch of big budget features, working his way up the production ladder. That he hoped to find some time maybe next summer to take a couple months off and shoot. That is, if, he could manage to raise the money.