AVENGER, VON DOOMER, AND DARK KNIGHT DETECTIVE

I used to live in a castle. Castle Von Doom. This was when I ran with wolves, always went over the limit (4 rocks and  a shot) and had many battles with the Dreaded Egg Lady of Yorkville. And one my my closest compatriots in these glorious salad days was Vinnie. We met during a production of Hamlet, which was being done as part of the fabled Shakespeare in the Park(ing) Lot. I was replacing another actor as the Player King, Fortinbras, and Bernardo. Vinnie was, among other roles, the Player Queen. One night early in the rehearsal process, Vinnie and I decided to grab a beer at Motor City, a bar on the at the time desolate Ludlow Street on the Lower East Side. We hadn't really hung out at all before, and figured what the hell? Instantly, we realized we were both uber-nerds with lots of interests in common- comic books, The Simspons, Weezer. We laughed our asses off for a long time that night. Many drinks into the evening, I announed to Vinnie that I had powers. Super powers. Vinnie did not believe me. I pointed to the only other person in the place, an attractive girl sitting at the bar, and started making "come to me" gestures, while also saying "come to me" over and over. Vinnie laughed, as did I. I turned back to Vinnie- who's face suddenly looked surprised- because the girl walked up to the table, and asked if she could sit with us. We said "Yes!" She told us her name was Ziggy. We nodded. She said she lived near there. We nodded. She left. Vinnie looked at me like I was crazy, asked me why I didn't leave with her- sadly, booze gives courage and stupidity in equal shares. I ran out of the bar- but Ziggy had vanished in the night. We decided she must have been a succubus, and I was lucky to be alive.

After that night, we were fast friends. Many nights we spent at rehearsal, at Motor City, and also literally jumping from roof top to rooftop, running across the FDR at sunrise after an all nighter, and working on some fantastic theatre- The Seagull, Henry V, Last Call. We quickly gave ourselves, and our circle of friends, many new names from different universes. In the DC universe, Vinnie was Batman, I was Superman. We figured out who would be which hero in both the Avengers, as well as the larger Marvel Universe. We were gloriously mad. We became room mates after about a year- Vinnie, me, and my brother Jerry. We named the place Castle Von Doom. The parties there were legendary. As time went on, we got a little older. I still remember, clear as a bell, taking a cab home one night after rehearsing Muse of Fire. Vinnie asked me what I thought about Shannon- a girl who he would go one to marry and who is one of the most excellent people in the world.

These days, we live far apart with families and all that. No matter. He is one of my best friends, and I know if I ever need him, all I need do is face the east and cry "Avengers Assemble!"

His birthday is today. Thanks, universe, for this wonder of a man.

And here's a link on the latest about ROSE RED and MOON OVER BUFFALO:
http://squeakystheatrepage.blogspot.com/2013/05/moon-rises-tonight-rose-blooms-in-june.html

RECKLESS AND INSANE

We open MOON OVER BUFFALO at the Wolf Theatre Academy at the Denver JCC this Wednesday. It's going well. No, it's going fantastically. What is really amazing is watching these young lions of the theatre figure the show out- to see their eyes grow wide when a comic moment occurs to them, they try it, and it works. I swear, sometimes I think I can see them literally grow taller on stage.  I learn so much from my students. I think the world would be a better place if everyone, for just a month, had to teach young people. Anyhow, we are having a blast, the show is hilarious, and the piece has a gigantic heart. The glee is palpable. The show itself is a love letter to theatre, to being brave and scared and inspired and crazy. Happily, everyone involved in the show loves the theatre as much, if not more, than I do. Every rehearsal, we find something new. Every rehearsal, someone takes a risk, finds a greater truth, and adds to the show. I think the essence of the show is said best in a monologue the character George has in Act Two. It goes like this:

"Think, woman! Think for a minute! Use your brain! Think of all the fun we have together. Rambling from town to town like minor royalty. Signing autographs and doing interviews. My God, you'll be laughing about my entrance as Cyrano for months! And think of the joy you give to thousands of people every week. As Amanda and Roxane. Lady Bracknell and Eliza Doolittle. Youre and actress, Charlotte. It's in your veins. If you were caught in the spotlight of a runaway train, you'd break in to a time step. It's a gift to be so reckless and insane. There are people out there in the darkness who are living through you. Dreaming of what they can be through your voice."

So if you are around Denver this week, come to the show and share the love, the joy, the reckless insanity. For details, click HERE.

MOON OVER THE J

I'm directing a production of Moon Over Buffalo at the Denver JCC right now. Most students call the JCC "the J", and I have picked up the habit. Nicknames are funny like that. They creep into your consciousness like ninjas, and before you know it, you have a new word in your vocabulary. I didn't consciously say to myself "I'm going to call the JCC the J". It just happened, and that was that. Nicknames are like that- someone makes an off-handed remark, calls someone or something by another name, it sticks, and next thing you know, a nickname is born. And you can't force them, or request people call you something and think it will work. I have a friend who once, when we were all younger and, if possible, goofier, announced that he wanted to be called Ace. It didn't happen. Not that you can't take a new name, a new persona, or whatever. It just has to stick. I have a student who for several weeks in the Fall would say, for comic effect, "I'm offended". I began to call her "Offended". She liked it, the name stuck, and that became her nickname. I myself have had many nicknames: Mick, Mac, Mackie-Doodle (my wife's favorite), and Mr. Squeaky- a name given to me by one of my all time best students ever, which stuck immediately and which a lot of young actors still think is my actual name.

But I digress. What I wanted to write about today is Moon Over Buffalo, and what it's like directing a backstage farce. But there is a connection, and that is the idea of things either sticking or not. In a farce, you try all sorts of bits- little moments that hopefully propel the show forward in a manner that is justified in the world of the play, intensifying the situation and upping the stakes. Some bits stick, some do not. We are finally getting to the point where things are sticking, jokes are getting funny, and characters are filling out. Comedy is a work out, and we are running our butts off in this one. One of the great joys of directing young people is when a show starts to click, and you see that they know it's starting to click. They stand taller. Their confidence explodes. And they begin taking risks on stage- which is vital in any production.

So now we have a show- a door slamming, frantic, fast paced comedy. We play May 8-12. Click HERE for tix.

And don't forget, if you are an aspiring young actor, to sign up for ROSE RED, which will be having a run in June at SOFA, with two casts- one ages 8-12, and one ages 12-18. Next auditions are May 13 & May 20, both from 5:30-7:30. Email info@offbroadwayfinearts.org for a slot.

And coming soon to your digital reader: APRIL'S FOOL.

STILL SHE HAUNTS ME, PHANTOMWISE

Phantomwise. What a cool word. Thanks, Lewis Carroll. Or is it Mr. Dodgson? Whomever you are, your brain was superb. And I am haunted by many things, phantomwise. You can tell, if you read most of my stuff. I have all these people and places and songs and memories running rampant in my head, like some mad tribe of loonies- and whenever I am writing, they leap out of my head, escaped convicts wrongfully imprisoned in my mind. I don't know if that's true for everyone, but it's certainly true for me. If you come to the reading tonight of my latest play, APRIL'S FOOL, at the Fine Arts Center in Colorado Springs, you'll see what I mean. It's at 7:30, and tickets are only $5. So what's you're excuse? The only person I am giving a hall pass to for missing tonight is my good friend Timothy McCracken, and that is because he is appearing in the Curious Theatre's God of Carnage- which by all accounts rocks, and you should all go see. (just don't see it tonight- come see my reading tonight)

So, since the play has so many phantoms, I thought I'd tell you about the one time I ever saw a ghost. Well, two ghosts, really. It was long ago and far away in the land called New York City. I was living on the upper east side, in this apartment that was given the name Castle Von Doom by the great Vinnie Penna. Lots of crazy things happened there- parties, people, moments in time that are part of the make up of a lot of people. It was this split level apartment with one true bedroom, and its own backyard, which is beyond rare in NYC. At one time or another, over twenty artists have lived there. When I met the ghosts, I was splitting the downstairs area with my brother Jerry. One night, Jerry was snoring loud enough to raise the dead- which seems to not be a figure of speech but what actually happened. I was laying in bed, yelling at him to please stop snoring. It was somewhere near 3 am. All of a sudden, I felt very calm, and sort of other-worldly. I can't really describe exactly what it was like- a sort of quiet feeling, as if I was watching what was happening to me from far away. There was a spiral stairway in the apartment, and something was moving on it. I turned, and saw a young girl, maybe 8 or 9 years old, and a little boy, maybe 5 or 6, coming down the stairs. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, the girl in front and the boy peeking out from behind her. We looked at each other for what seemed like a very long time, and then the girl spoke. "Don't be afraid", she said. "We just want you to know we are here. And there are many of us." She seemed very at peace. The boy did not. He looked kind of crazy- the crazy that happens to people who have had very bad things happen to them. I got the sense they were brother and sister. But I don't know. Then the girl said "We want to show you". And I was- well, given a vision. It was weird. I was still sitting in my bed, but they were showing me this huge room, full of people frozen in these strange positions. When I say the room was huge, I mean somewhere between a ball room and Grand Central Station. I can still see, clearly, this one lady frozen in emotion- either laughing or crying. Ever notice how similar the two are? Then, just as quickly, the vision was gone, and I was again sitting in my bed, and the two children were standing at the bottom of the stairs. Then they walked up the stairs, and sort of vanished as they climbed. And then I freaked out. I woke my brother up, who somehow slept through the entire thing.

I did not sleep that night.

So maybe I'm crazy. But that happened.

Come see the reading tonight and ask me about it. Again, it's at 7:30, at the Fine Arts Center in Colorado Springs.

THE SPARROWS ARE FALLING All OVER THE PLACE

"I’ve been the Queen of Broken Hearts long enough!" - April

So Saturday, APRIL'S FOOL had it's first public reading ever, at the Fine Arts Center of Colorado Springs as part of the Rough Writers new play festival. It was fantastic. The cast- Nick Henderson, Jessica Parnello, Crystal Carter, Matthew Wessler, and Michelle Sharpe- were brilliant, the director - Crystal Carter- outstanding, and the overall experience very positive. They all kicked it in the ass. Seriously. These are some of the best Colorado has to offer. If you are anywhere near- and I mean like two hundred miles- the FAC in Colorado Springs and don't come to the reading this Friday, you might be what is technically known as a moron.


"We’re killing the pinball machine. Do you think it’ll fit out the window?" - Ahab


 I always feel like throwing up when I hear a new work of mine done for the first time. I don't get nerves when I act, or when I watch a show I directed. But when it's something I've written- all bets are off. But if it goes well, that feeling is quickly replaced with euphoria, triumph, and egotism.

"I am so stupid! Things are just starting to go my way, I finally get a break- and I go and kill my boyfriend!" - Moira

Now I take what I learned from hearing it out loud in front of people, make whatever re-writes I deem necessary, and we do it again this Friday at 7:30. What did I learn? First off, it seems like most people can relate to feeling unhinged in time, confused about their lives, and not quite sure what has happened to them. Go figure. On top of that, there are some tweaks to dialogue that should make it flow smoother- although, for whatever reason, dialogue seems to be one of my strongest suits as a writer. And the last scene needs something- a little more redemption or madness or I am not sure what, but there is a line or scene or event that hasn't happened yet that has to happen. I can feel it. A lot of times, when I write a play, there is some scene that comes late that ties everything together, sends it to the next level, connects the dots. In Muse of Fire, it's the scene where Dion and Mick drive to the ocean. In Last Call, it's a game of hide and seek that David and Jack play in a grave yard. Somewhere in the ether is that scene for April's Fool, waiting to say hello, to drop to the ground like a provident sparrow. I might find it today, or a month from now, but it's on it's way. Trust me.

"I gotta tell you- the coveralls, the whole hot bad girl at work thing? Daddy like." - Jaypes

I like this play. A lot. It's weird and funny and fantastical. It's got gods and dreams and murder by pinball. And a little bit of love, just for good measure.

Also on it's way, the next production of ROSE RED, at SOFA in Boulder. If you are a young performer and want to have one of the best June's of your life, be in this show.  It will kick you in the ass, and make you a super genius. Auditions are May 13 and May 20. Go here for more info:
http://www.offbroadwayfinearts.org/summer-stage-2013/

And this July, BURNING THE OLD MAN gets it's West Coast premiere at 2X4 BASH at the Western Stage in Salinas, CA. I did a lot of theatre there when I was starting out, including a three part, nine hour long version East of Eden that changed my life. It's a great theatre company, and to have one of my plays done there is very exciting to me. Come out and see it- if you do, I'll take you to the beach and buy you a soda.

"A foodie versed in Norse mythology, dressed as a clown, killed by a pinball machine, asking me out for drinks. Strange." - Norn

By the way- all the plays mentioned in this are available now, or soon will be, on INDIE THEATER NOW. So do us both a favor and buy a play for less than two bucks.

APRIL'S ENTANGLED FOOLS

I keep changing the title of my latest play. I find this fitting, since reality keeps shifting in the play itself. It began life as "Don't Get Too Comfy, Pal", morphed into "Mathurine", and is currently titled "April's Fool"- but I am considering going with "Entanglement". We shall see.

Whatever the title, it is going to be part of the Rough Writers new play fest down at the Fine Arts Center in Colorado Springs. I am very excited. There is nothing like hearing your play out loud to figure out what works, what needs tweaking, and what needs to go. The festival runs April 18-28, and will consist of readings of several new works- all inspired in one way or another by art works that will be on display at the FAC.  I actually used two art works- a charcoal sketch and a porcelain axe. I am so excited to be part of this festival, for many reasons. First and foremost- I like having my stuff read out loud in front of people. It's my drug of choice. Second, I love the work they do at FAC, and know they will kick it in the ass. Third, my instincts- those voices that whisper to me from some distant star- tell me this is going to be a pivotal experience in my life. Groovy.

The play keeps evolving- tightening up and expanding at the same time. It has taken on a life of it's own. It walks the night. I keep trusting my instincts and leaping, hoping the net will appear. So far, so good.

Here is a little taste, from Act One. At an April Fool's costume party, Ahab has just found out that Moira, the girl he loves/obsesses over, is getting married to Jay- whom Ahab alternately calls Jaypes and/or Dickhead.  A mysterious woman named Norn enters. They are both dressed as jesters.
 

AHAB

Nice outfit. Who’re you supposed to be?

NORN

Mathurine.

AHAB

Who the hell is Mathurine?

NORN

Real life jestress to three kings of France.

AHAB

Jestress?

NORN

Lady jester.

AHAB

I see.

NORN

She was a hero. Saved a kings life once. And you?

AHAB

Oh. I’m Hop-Frog. Another jester. Not from real life, though. From Poe.
You know, Edgar Allen Poe?

NORN

I do.

AHAB

Hop Frog was a fool. And in love with the beautiful Trippetta. Sadly, Hop Frog worked for this king who was a total dickhead. The king had been especially cruel to the beautiful Tripetta. Among other things, he threw a glass of wine in her face and then smacked her. Pow! Right in the kisser. So Hop-Frog decided to teach him a lesson. The king threw a costume party. Hop-Frog suggested King Dickhead and several of his fellow dickheads dress up like orangutans, and have Hop-Frog lead them around in chains like he was their keeper or something. And King Dickhead thought that was a great idea! So the night of the party, the King and his buddies put on their orangutan costumes, and then Hop-Frog tied them up.

NORN

Why did they let him tie them up?

AHAB

Because they’re stupid. Haven’t you ever noticed how the rich and powerful are, for the most part, morons?

NORN

I find stupidity does not confine itself to the ruling class.

AHAB

Yeah. Well, anyway, there they were, dressed up like monkeys-

NORN

Orangutans.

AHAB

Orangutans. And then, in front of all the party guests, Hop-Frog lit King Dickhead and his asshole buddies on fire. Burned them to a crisp. And Hop-Frog and Tripetta lived happily ever after. The end.

NORN

That’s a sad story.

AHAB

Just goes to show, you should never wear a costume that you have to explain.

It's a weird little tale, and keeps getting weirder. I have no idea what will happen next. At the moment, I think I'm going to end it with a mad tea party. But what do I know?

WHAT'S SO FUNNY ABOUT PEACE, LOVE, AND MERCIFUL STORIES?

I went to the Colorado premiere of Jon Robin Baitz's play Other Desert Cities at the Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center Friday night with some trepidation. Not about the production- I have seen virtually every show they have done for the past two seasons, and each show- to a one- has been excellent. No, the reason I felt a little anxious was because one of my companions that night happens to be a staunch Republican, and this show deals with a conservatives and liberals- and I wrongly assumed it would be slanted towards the liberal side of things. Of course, my fears were unfounded, the play outstanding, and we all had a fantastic time.

Other Desert Cities is not a play about political ideas, but about human beings dealing with each other, their past, and how it affects the present. It is a kind, funny, sad, thrilling night of theatre, and if you have any brains, heart and/or soul, you will get your ass down to the Springs and catch this gem of a show.

The plays takes place at the plush Palm Springs home of Lyman and Polly Wyeth, a conservative couple in their waning years who once were among the Illuminati of the GOP. At the top of the play, it's Christmas Eve, and daughter Brooke, a fairly neurotic and seriously depressed writer, has come home- ostensibly for the holiday, but in actuality to show mom and dad the manuscript for her latest book- a tell all memoir. The memoir is about a family tragedy that tore the family apart in the 1970's, which most would like to recover from, but sadly, Brooke can not. Also present at this gathering are Brooke's younger brother Trip, a reality show producer, and liberal Aunt Silda- who is a semi-recovering alcoholic and the antithesis of her sister Polly in every way. As the play progresses, layers are peeled away, and nobody is as easily categorized as we think. As is painfully often the case, there are no good guys and bad guys, just people struggling to understand each other and find some solace in a rather cruel world.

The play is both laugh-out-loud funny and quietly-wipe-away-a-tear sad, and director Scott RC Levy moves it along at a break neck pace. Levy creates a family we all can relate to- slightly crazy, loving, infuriating, and scary. The cast is uniformly excellent. Daniel Noel, as patriarch Lyman, is a wonder to behold. He has this fantastic presence. His performance is subtle, moving, and powerful. He's one of those actors who can with the slightest look or move tell you everything you need to know about a character.  Leah Chandler-Mills is fantastic as matriarch Polly, who hilariously and tragically tries desperately to keep up appearances of normalcy despite all evidence to the contrary. Sammy Gleason plays younger son Trip- a sort of serio-comic modern version of Happy from Death of a Salesman. Gleason is a dynamic performer, and can turn on a dime from comedy to tragedy. Kate Berry, as Brooke, is excellent, giving Brooke pathos, along with a bit of righteous indignation that is both understandable, but also infuriating. Her journey is the spine of the show, and she makes is exhilarating. Stealing the show with ease is Birgitta De Pree as Silda. De Pree owns the stage, prancing around like a deranged rock star who has escaped rehab. Silda has a lot of sharp dialogue, and De Pree delivers is perfectly. She does not sugar coat her character, but rather gives us a fully realized mess of a woman who you alternately want to hug, throttle, and then hug again. The design is outstanding- set designer Christopher L. Sheley has created a home the looks like it was literally pulled out of it's foundations and brought to the stage. It captures perfectly that pseudo Frank Llyod Wright look so common to the affluent areas of California- my home state. Lights by Holly Anne Rawls perfectly capture the desert sky, especially the sunsets. And the costumes by Janson Fangio were perfect, enhancing each character with a look to match their personalities.

So let me say this one more time: If you are anywhere near Colorado Springs, get your ass down to the Fine Arts Center and see this show.