Fiasco

Well, I’m glad that I have so many things to write about in here in my life. Ah…they don’t call it drama for nothing.

So two theatre problems moving in opposite directions and I’m wounded by both in the end. It’s like I’ve been pulled apart. But I’m going to try and explain in here, at least so I can get all things off my chest and the weight of problems won’t be the thing to bury me. Oh, and I locked my keys in my car today. Fuck. But everything’s fine.

The Laramie problem. People have paraded “The Laramie Project” around for years upon years. They have called it one of the greatest plays written, audiences everywhere have received it with such response that I’m ever reminded that nobody in the world anymore seems to remember what constitutes good literature. And worse, people think plays and screenplays aren’t literature anymore. That’s pathetic and sad. (Oh, I did make it in to the top 1000 at Project Greenlight…woohoo for me.) But “Laramie” is not great literature. It might be good literature. It defies normal formulas and conventions and does move with coherence and has pretty nice character studies in a sort of way…and the issue I suppose is good. But I’m not going to argue the issues. That is besides the point, because I would argue that Matthew Shepard’s death was tragic and horrible and that Laramie, Wyoming deserves to have light shed on it, but at the same time, the play serves only to accent this very unique event. There have been hundreds of hate crimes for race and creed and this is the only one that the people of Tectonic seem to focus on. Short-sighted and anti-global in a way that nobody realizes because they’re too busy cheering the fact that both the actors and the audience cried in the performance.

The reason Laramie is not great literature is because it defies several of the key qualities that make good literature. Now I’m not one for rules that one adheres to strictly because, and one can break certain conventions at times, but to break these so absolutely for the purposes that they do is downright foolish and foolhardy. The fact is that the key rule they broke was the fourth wall. Now there are plenty of shows that pander to audiences and address them, but this is not the metaphoric fourth wall…which is giving the audience the distance to judge the show. Directors can achieve this if they like, even actors can when addressing Laramie, but that is not how it is written. The fact is it was written to engage audiences directly, and as such it biases them immediately to being allowed to feel what they like for the characters. To feel which side is right by seeing both presented with a bit more partiality and less one-sidedness. Oh, we see glimpses of the other side, thrown in by a writer who knew damn well he’d be lambasted for not, but this was not balanced or equal.

Secondly, this play was not designed to be recreated very well. We are given specific characters and many of them, but we are not given a solid description of who they are and what they’re like. These are real people, and there should be some sense of focus in that way. Instead, we have words that number up on the pages and leave actors to do a hell of a lot of digging into themselves to find a character. You may say this is good, that this makes it global…but I don’t agree. The fact is that through dialogue and action we learn about the character, here all we get is a little bit of dialogue, mostly monologue where we only see what the characters want to show us of themselves. Boo for that. This entire piece is more biased then one can understand. But let us parade it because it can bring emotion.

That’s an odd rant from a sentimental guy, but it’s true.

Anyway, the Laramie drama is I did not want any part of the show. When enough male actors auditioned I was happy. I was outraged when they didn’t cast an auditioning actor and hired one outside of the school. That was wrong. Then, when one actor didn’t show up, they didn’t cast that actor who auditioned, but rather they simply begged me to do it. I caved after enough pressure. I’m regretting it after one day of doing it. Boo.

The other drama? I was cast in small, insignificant roles in My Fair Lady at the barn. So I turned it down. The director, a friend of Terry Wiesner who is a director who I owe so much and I consider a friend, complained to him and he emailed me complaining. While unprofessional and upsetting, that’s what happened. This caused problems because Terry is directing a show that I want to be in. Turning down Shane might lead Terry not to cast me.

But this time, I refused solidly and stated every reason why. And I don’t know what will happen with Terry…but I’m afraid that the Red Barn might be shutting its doors to me soon. I suppose that makes me sad. But at the same time, how dare them? I’m a professional actor now. I’ve worked and gotten paid and I’m in demand everywhere I go. I’m an Irene Ryan nominee, I’ve been a paid core actor, and soon a paid director of full shows. These people they cast are pharamacists and mail people who do this for fun….I’m sorry, you want to cast me below these talentless hacks who don’t do anything but recite some lines on stage pretending? Fine. Go right ahead. But don’t expect me to say yes.

I’m tired. I’ve worked my whole life and committed everything. EVERYTHING. So much of my energy is spent giving to the theatre and what do I get for my loyalty? Extra roles. The leftovers. I’ve earned my respect, I’ve earned the right for the leads. I’ve been in six straight shows here…four of them with leads, and the other two with major supporting characters. I don’t take shit roles now. That’s final. I make my decisions now. Out in the real world when I audition for some company that doesn’t know me from Adam, fine…I’ll take the small roles the first season with bowed head ready to commit to show them my energy and skill. That next season I should see improvement or better actors then me, or I’m gone. And that’s the way I feel about the Barn. Love it to death, owe it so much, but if it thinks that I’m just another schmuck going through the motions to have people smile at me and clap for my own self-esteem issues and because it’s a fun ‘hobby,’ they’re wrong. I’m an actor, professional, and that means I want roles that I deserve and will further me as an actor. And the worst roles ever conceived are chorus roles in musicals. No character. No depth. No lines. As I call them, breathing scenery.

And I’m done now…..sleep time.