EXTRA CRITICUM

Down for the Count

I knew it was bad, but I didn’t know it was THIS bad. A friend forwarded an email to me at the end of last week, announcing the closing of an Off-Off Broadway theatre space, the Manhattan Theatre Source. I have a soft spot in my heart for the Source because I’ve worked there in a variety of capacities (producer, writer, director, educator), consulted with the board, had a couple of small pieces produced there, know a lot of the people involved in its formation and growth and have watched it struggle year after year to stay afloat. So it wasn’t a huge surprise that the Board finally had to say, in essence, we just can’t make it happy any longer. We’re beat. We’re done. We’ve fought the good fight for twelve years.

I was curious why this is happening now; why, after its twelfth year? So I called someone I know on the Board and asked. The answer was simple, he said: rent.

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.

Finally. The wait is over. Godspell returns.

And what better way to celebrate the Broadway revival of Godspell than to start lobbying for a similar revival of Pippin.

Wouldn't it have been a wonder to have lived to see Michael Jackson actually play the role on stage?

Well, listen to this. It's sort of the next best thing, anyway...

 

11 Corner of the Sky (Single Version)

 

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.

The Deliciousness of Derailment

I saw a Russell Brand standup comedy show in a tiny LA theater (capacity: 150) last night. I'd seen him one other time in a similar scenario, so I knew what to expect: the scripted standup wouldn't be good, but I would just have to wait for Russell to get distracted and derailed, and then the real show would begin.

And true to form, Russell came out with a flipboard of newspaper headlines and notecards of factoids and statistics, none of which were terribly fascinating, revealing or funny. But they gave the guy - who I think is a charming, intelligent, and witty linguist - a springboard from which to launch into tangential diatribes and follies including rummaging through an audience member's purse and using another audience member's cell phone to call the psychics and sex workers who advertise in the back of the LA Weekly.

History repeating itself? The Met is back... with a vengeance!

At a recent board meeting (during which, incidentally, questions of programming do not generally come up, aside from in a reportage sort of a way... that is, after all, supposed to be my dept.) one of our longest standing board members blurted out a suggestion. Essentially, it boiled down to this.

Last month, the Met live telecast featured a production of Turandot. And, hey, why haven't we done Turandot? That's one heck of a great opera!

I had to take a deep breath and count to ten. (One, two, three, four, five--oh to hell with it!) See the fact of the matter is, there's a new kid on the block. And he's bigger and stronger and better funded than all the rest of us put together. Oh, and he's playing for keeps, too. His name is Peter Gelb. And his mission? Simple. Restore the Metropolitan Opera's international footprint to its former glory. Trouble is, his plan doesn't exactly take into account the needs of us little guys.

Off-Broadway Promo or Porno DVD Box Cover Copy?

This arrived in my INBox today. First of all, I should just say up front that, I don't know playwright Thomas Higgins' work and I make no judgments about it 'til I see this play... which, by the way, I intend to. Nevertheless, this promotional copy did catch my eye for its vaguely pornographic hue. What do you think? Am I just an uptight prude? (It's okay. You won't hurt my feelings.)

Leon Tec says: Follow your heart

Reposted in memory of Dr. Leon Tec (1919-2013) who passed away on Saturday.

Last night, Gwendolyn Howard, David Toto and Christine Xu gave a first-class concert of chamber music at the Unitarian Church in Westport, CT. There were moments during the program when if you closed your eyes, you might forget you were hearing music played by High School students. For 25 years The Leon Tec Showcase for Outstanding Young Musicians has been making its unique mark on the calendar of musical prodigies in Connecticut as one of the only showcases that is not a competition, an evening where everyone on stage walks away with a prize, not least of which is the joy and communion that only comes from playing chamber music.

Is NYC just a quagmire?

I can no longer count on two hands the number of close friends who are living hand-to-mouth in this city. Here are just a few of the coping mechanisms I've observed:

Sitting In Purgatory With Marilyn

Back about 25 years ago when I was just in the throes of coming out, I worked for a few months doing coatcheck at a Minneapolis club called Norma Jean's. It was the kind of bar where straight college kids danced and partied all night and jumped up and down to "Mony Mony" and chanted "get fucked, get laid" in between chorus's. It was good money although the coat check system sucked. We'd take coats in through a half door in the kitchen, tie them to a rope and the person on the other end on the second level would have to haul the rope up and hang the coats up there. Given that people had to go to the bathroom once in awhile, there would be times when one would be getting the coat ticket and then climbing up on a chair through the cut out in the floor, getting the coat and then climbing back down. When you have a coked up patron demanding their coat back, they don't care that the other coatcheck person is taking a whiz.

Good Bad, or the Pleasures of Pan Am

We all know what makes something good. We’re equally clear on what makes something bad (hint- it’s the opposite of what makes something good). But what about that mysterious quality that makes something Good Bad? You know what I’m talking about. That movie/book/TV show/song that you love even though you know its total crap. What quality does the Good Bad work of art have that Bad Bad work of art lacks? What separates Good Bad from Bad Bad?

I guess I have to come clean now. I’ll just say it quick. It’s like pulling off a Band-Aid...

Cartoon: The Morning After

Lost Boy Found in Whole Foods

If you're going to be in Pittsburgh in the next few weeks, you absolutely must run and see Tammy Ryan's play, Lost Boy Found in Whole Foods. Below, I'm posting a little promotional video of the playwright being interviewed about her play. The odd thing about the video is, it's very calm and centered and rational, just as the play's writer, Tammy Ryan tends to be. The promotional video discusses themes in the play and the origins of its creation. What the video cannot capture is the velocity of the play, the energy and pathos and fear and terror and love and heart of this wonderful play. For that, you'd have to go see the play.

But it makes me wonder in general about this mode of promoting new plays online. Sit the playwright and/or director down for a sensible chat about the work and videotape it and post it on the web to sell tickets. But if the tone of these very reasoned measured videos is so completely at odds with the tone of the play, are these promos going to bring in the right audience? When I read Tammy's script, I wept, almost from beginning to end. And I also laughed quite a bit too. But the overall effect of the play is to rip your heart in two. Makes me wonder. What's the smartest way to promote a beautiful and painful new play? What do you think? Here's the video:

Getting Lost

Cross-posted on the Blue Coyote Commission Project Blog

It’s a little scary. At the very least it’s disorienting. You don’t know what time it is. You don’t know where you are.

It passes quickly, of course. The last time it happened to me, I found myself on NJ Transit. I was somewhere between Secaucus and Newark. It was around 5:30. I was on my way home.

Galloping Stage Magic

I’m in New York this week for meetings and plays.  As I always do here, I gorge on plays.  Somehow I’ve managed to cram eight plays into five days.  I stay at the YMCA and what I save on lodging I spend on play tickets.  I love visiting New York!