Post-show | Second Last Man

Last night we closed Monkeyman Productions’ Banana Festival.  The play I directed, The Second Last Man on Earth, went pretty well.  The whole festival of one act plays was quite good, but being the director of “Second Last”, its the one I’m most close to.  I can honestly say that I am proud of the work that was done, though I do wish I’d had a little more time.  Our rehearsal period was significantly truncated, and as the show performed, I caught myself seeing little moments that could have been made slightly better…if only we’d had the time.  Then I catch myself: we didn’t have time, and everybody did great work with the time that we did have.  I imagine that there’s never enough time, and that there will always be moments that could have been made slightly better.

Today, I found myself feeling slightly off; and then I realized what it was: post-show depression.  It happens all the time when a show finishes.  Actors come together and spend large amounts of time in close proximity, sharing the stresses of performing and just generally hanging out.  For the period of working on a show, a group of actors form a small family, and then very quickly, the family splits apart.  Usually I am prepared for it, I know its coming, and can make arrangements to combat it.  But this show, I was not an actor, I was a director, and I didn’t expect that I’d find myself in the same mindset as if I had been an actor in the show.  So the beginnings of the post-show depression were unnoticed at first, until it was too late.

In other news, I’m turning my attention back to the Commandment and trying to fix some dramatic problems with it.  Perhaps I’ll have to change the structure. Maybe I’ll have to start over.  What I’ve determined so far, is that the play lacks high stakes, and the character’s journey needs to be fleshed out more.  So, that’s what I’m going to be working on for the next little while.  And perhaps I’ll try for next year’s Fringe Festival.

Backstage

Folks were sitting around looking so serious as they talked. I suggested that they stage a “sitcom” moment. And they did.

Tech rehearsal

Last night, was tech rehersal. Show looks great. See?

I Am Directing a Play About Zombies!!!!

I am directing The Second Last Man by Jordan Hall for Monkeyman Productions Banana Festival.  The good news is that the play is great.  Also good news is that now I get to play Left 4 Dead 2 and call it “research”.

Not so great is the fact that I’m coming in as a ringer.  Basically, things came up and the director originally slated to direct the play was unable to do so, and the Monkeymen called me.  And (to quote 24) WE’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!

But the best news is that the cast is great.  Tim Nussey, Melissa Zaccardelli, and Jack Morton are pulling the play together and despite the short time, and really finding some great stuff in the scenes.

In a short amount of time, we’ve managed to make some good choices about the characters, flesh out their histories, and get the play blocked.  Now we can start to find the nuance in the scenes, and get the dialogue really moving.

Once thing I’ve noticed about not having a lot of time is that you basically have two options:  you can try and hurry, worrying that if you don’t rush through everything that you’ll run out of time.  Or you can work slowly, making sure that you work carefully.  It seems that best option is to work slowly, taking your time, and ensuring that you work through each moment, not glossing over anything.  This is the best use of the actor’s time.  Working slowly like this means that everything gets its moment, and actually helps the actors to learn their scenes.  Its been an important lesson to learn.

New Peeps

Yeah, I used the word “Peeps”.  Y’know.  Because it was Easter.

Just wanted to whip up a quick post to point out a couple of additions to the ol’ links page, to point out a few people I think you should pay attention to.  First off, Ginette Mohr, who played Belle in the Belle of Winnipeg.  Ginette is an extremely talented actor, so you should definitely visit her site.

Next, Hannah Barnett-Kemper, is a Toronto actor who is full of awesome.  And sparkles.  Trust me.

Finally, Daisy MacLean is a director and writer. You’ve seen her work as the director behind So You’ve Decided to be Attacked by Zombies and the video for Fidget’s song Vanity Magazine.

Check all three of them out.

TV and the bad writing epidemic

A few days ago,  via twitter,  I saw an article showing a letter that David Mamet wrote for the writers of the Unit, which serves as a master class on good writing for film and television.  You can see the article here.

There are little gems here like:

- Any time two characters are talking about a third, the scene is a crock of shit.

- Any time any character is saying to another “as you know”, that is, telling another character what you, the writer, need the audience to know, the scene is a crock of shit.

- Remember you are writing for a visual medium. most television writing, ours included, sounds like radio. the camera can do the explaining for you. let it.

This is great stuff.

After reading this article, I watched a couple of the shows that I watch regularly: Flash Forward and V.  Both of these shows I’ve been watching not because I find them particularly gripping, but rather because I want them to be good television (also, I admit to watching V because of my fond memories of the 80s miniseries).

Unfortunately, both shows fall victim to the very things that Mamet is warning against.  I have often watched an episode and thought to myself “something is bothering me about this scene” but not been able to put into words what was not working.  Mamet’s words point out exactly what is wrong.  Both of these shows could do with a good read of the Mamet letter in question.  In fact, pretty much every TV drama writer should read over Mamet’s letter and take it to heart.  The shows will be better for it.

Bowling for Birthday

This past Saturday, I turned 40 (as previously mentioned), and this year, I did something different.  Usually for my birthday, I don’t do much.  Maybe a small dinner with a couple of friends. Sometimes even less.  But this year, since forty is one of those “milestone” birthdays, I thought that this year I would do something bigger.  I invited a few friends to join me for some cosmic bowling.  After all, everyone loves bowling, right?

I don’t bowl often.  In fact the last time I bowled was about two years ago at another friend’s birthday.  But I figured that bowling was a good way to get a bunch of people together, and to have some fun.  We had different bowling skill levels together, and some people bowled well, and some people… Well the point is that we had different bowling skill levels.  To me, though that doesn’t matter. You go bowling with a group of friends to cheer each other on, trade some friendly zingers and just have a good time.

The second game of the night is where we made a few realizations.  First and foremost: bowling is a sport. We came to this sport realization by realizing the pain that wrists and knees were in.  Until that moment, we all remembered bowling as something fun to do with a group of friends.  But it turns out that there’s actual athleticism involved in doing it regularly.  Which is something I suppose we all knew, but had forgotten until the pain started.

When the second match ended, we were all of one mind: we were finished, and did not have another game in us.

It was a great way to ring in my 40s, and was happy to see all the friends who came.

Side note: for those looking at turning 40, just remember…forty feels a lot like thirty-nine.

[pictures by Jessica Nelson and Daisy MacLean]