Thursday, August 07, 2003

 

Jeffrey replied via email to my July 7th post about his take on the alienating effects of TV on the audience's relationship to the actor. In it, he shared this tidbit:

A few years ago I attended the TCG conference in Philly and heard media critic Douglas Rushkoff speak. His spiel was about this very issue of TV & film separating us (alienating us, in fact) from reality, in a psychologically similar way that Brecht alienated us from the plot.

Anyway, at the end of his talk, there was a brief Q&A. The executive director (I believe) of Oregon Shakespeare had this: "When I was 10, I went to see my first Shakespeare: The Merry Wives of Windsor. I loved it. It was the very reason I pursued theater. Many of my friends my age have similar experiences. They may be lawyers and accountants and non-theater types now, but they all have that 'my first Shakespeare' story that made them fall in love with theater.

"Recently, I took my 10-year-old niece to see our production of Merry Wives, and she was bored, asking always 'When is it over' and 'What are they talking about?' Are children today less likely to like theater because they're used to the instant gratification of tv and film? Why was she like this?"

Rushkoff paused briefly and said modestly: "Well, bad theater sucks."

Personally, I think that Merry Wives of Windsor is Shakespeare's worst play. I've heard a story that he wrote it in twelve days at the behest of Queen Elizabeth who wished to see Falstaff in love, but that story may be apocryphal. In any case, I think it's poorly constructed, and a lot of the comedy hasn't aged well. Of course, he's Shakespeare and I'm not, so the Bard wins. But I have to admit some sympathy with little girl.

Let's see if she has the same reaction to the fairies in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Or the witches in Macbeth. Or the hand-chopping and son-cooking in Titus Andronicus...wait, skip that last one.

posted by Dan 3:47 PM
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She Was Real

(A sitting area outside a high school. Wooden benches and tables. It’s the unofficial smoking area for the school. Mid 1980s.

MAYA enters. She’s fourteen, but has the body of a developed, very curvy woman, and has had it for a few years. She hides it with an oversized football jersey and heavy jacket. She’s rushing to LLOYD, also fourteen, but way behind her in the development race. He’s skinny, hairless, and his voice is still skewed high. He also wears an oversized winter coat, the kind a mom buys and expects her child to grow into. It’s cold.)

MAYA
I have to talk to you.

LLOYD
Okay.

MAYA
You have to help me.

LLOYD
Okay.

MAYA
My mom’s gonna find out I’m smoking. She’s gonna send me back to Hawaii when she finds out.

LLOYD
How’s she gonna find out you’re smoking?

MAYA
Look.
(She exhales through her mouth.)
Look at that. She’s gonna see the smoke come out, she’s gonna send me back to Hawaii.

LLOYD
That’s your breath.

MAYA
She’s such a -

LLOYD
Maya, you’re seeing your breath. When it’s cold out, you can see your breath. Look.
(He demonstrates. Pause.)

MAYA
How’m I supposed to know that? I’m from Hawaii. Anybody could make that mistake.

LLOYD
It’s cool, you know, just don’t...it’d really suck if you got sent back to Hawaii because of that.

MAYA
Lloyd, I’m not going back to Hawaii. Don’t worry. It’s just my breath.

LLOYD
Right, that’s what I...right, cool.

MORE...

New York Press, Aug 6-12, 2003: Matt Taibbi, The limits of “ym”-agination

posted by Dan 2:03 PM
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Tuesday, August 05, 2003

 

BlogSnob is yet another blogring I've joined, to blog with other bloggers and blog the bloggy blog (Bloggy Smurf, go back to the saloon with Caps Cowboy).

posted by Dan 5:34 PM
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Finally finished this scene from my 07/15/03 post. It's a shorter end to the scene than I thought it'd be. But I should probably encourage brevity in my writing, because HOO DOGGIE CAN I RAMBLE ON...okay, back into the saloon with you, Caps Cowboy.

Pitch Conference 12:30 pm

For Scene 1, click here.

(A Greek coffee shop in Long Island City. White and blue, with a few prints of the Acropolis as wall decoration. Polished metal chairs and particleboard tables with crumbled facing.

BRIAN and his mother, MARGOT, sit at one of the tables. BRIAN wears the same clothes. MARGOT wears a plain dress that is somehow still too fancy for the shop. BRIAN reads the New York Post. MARGOT glares at him.)

MARGOT
What’s that moron up to this week?

BRIAN
What moron?

MARGOT
The one with his stubby twit finger on The Button. The squatter-in-chief burgling the White House.

BRIAN
Oh, you mean the President.

MARGOT
He’s not my president.
(BRIAN checks the paper.)

BRIAN
Looks like people are accusing him of lying to get us into Iraq.

MARGOT
Hah. Of course he lied.

BRIAN
Sure. They all lie. Clinton lied.

MARGOT
That was different. Everybody lies about that.

BRIAN
Lied to his wife. Lied to the country.

MARGOT
Like you would tell me the truth about that, Brian, like you would tell me what you were up to with some slut.

BRIAN
Awright, that’s - !
(He looks offstage, to see if somebody’s watching.)
Let’s just play nice today, awright, ma? Damn.

MORE...

posted by Dan 12:31 PM
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Monday, August 04, 2003

 

Feet of Clay

(KATHY, an employment agent, sits behind a desk, on one side of the stage. She speaks to the audience.)

KATHY
Clay Mulder is a hard worker and a super nice guy. I think he’s a perfect match for your company. He’s creative, but not too creative. You know, commercially creative. Works well with others, but won’t let being nice stop him from speaking his mind. But he can also keep his mouth shut. Except if he’s on fire, then he’ll scream bloody murder. He’s just super. He’s the kind of applicant that’s a pleasure to interview. What time can I tell him to come in and see you?
(Lights fade on her. Meanwhile, on another part of the stage, the lights rise on an office. JOANNA sits behind her desk, going over CLAY’s resume. CLAY sits in a small chair, sweating.)

JOANNA
You’ve done more animated modeling work than anyone I’ve ever met, Mr. Mulder.

CLAY
Yeah, I have, I probably have.

JOANNA
In fact, you’ve worked on every major three-dimensional corporate icon over the past ten years.

CLAY
You could say that I’ve spent my life giving eyes and arms to logos.

JOANNA
Why would I say that?

CLAY
I...don’t know. What I mean is, my life is animating clay.

JOANNA
Good thing your name is Clay then.

CLAY
Yeah, yeah, good thing.

JOANNA
And you’ve been animating clay since you were a kid?

CLAY
Sure, when I was in middle school I recreated the entire climactic space battle from “The Wrath of Khan.”

JOANNA
Mm. When I was a kid, I played the oboe.

CLAY
Oh really?

JOANNA
God, I loved that instrument. But Juilliard didn’t take me, so I want to business school, and gave up my dreams of being a profession oboe...oboe-ster, oboe-phone, oboe-tulator...

CLAY
Oboist?

JOANNA
So I think it comes from experience when I have the desire to say, give up this pipe-dream, pal. You’ll never make a living dinking around with clay.

CLAY
But...I have made a living at it.

JOANNA
Not anymore though, huh? Seems to me you’re sucking off that welfare-state teet now. Man, you can’t look at a couple or thirty-five jobs as a career path. It’s time you went back to work in the canned salmon business, give up this fantasy. No one hires people to animate clay.

CLAY
Aren’t you?

JOANNA
Yeah, but I’m not hiring you, am I?

MORE...

OregonLive.com, August 1st, 2003: Nike Chief Seeks Dismissal of Lawsuit

posted by Dan 5:15 PM
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