Twelve Angry Jurors at Midvale

I had the delightful opportunity to go see my friend Kristen in Twelve Angry Men (excuse me, Twelve Angry Jurors) at the Midvale Performing Arts Center last night. I've often wished community theaters would focus more on straight plays and less on musicals, and shows like this one are the reason why. While musicals often have cliche plots or confused messages, it's been my experience that dramatic theater provokes more thought and positive self-reflection.

There are a few theatrical gems I believe most Americans should take time to see. The Crucible by Arthur Miller is one of the first to come to mind. A good, solid production of The Merchant of Venice is another one. Now I'm adding Twelve Angry Men to the list.

Sorry, I mean Jurors. Look, I know why they changed the title of the play - women serve on juries, too, and it's far easier to cast women in community theater than men. But the title Twelve Angry Men just pops with energy, while Twelve Angry Jurors just sort of lackadaisically flops to its knees.

</rant>

Twelve Angry... People really takes the time to analyze what "reasonable doubt" means, and it challenges its audience to take their civic matters seriously. To this end, it fills the jury with hurried, impatient people - much like we often are - and shows them callously willing to throw one man to the executioner just so they can be on their way. As the plot progresses, though, we start to see the people in the jury are all sorts of individuals: immigrants and outcasts, professionals and housewives, ordinary men and women with consciences very much like our own.

Oh, and racists. The scene where the racist juror gets shut down is definitely a favorite, and Midvale's cast executes it beautifully. It's a goosebumps moment.

The production as a whole is pretty good. The set's a simple one - and that's fine, the production doesn't require anything fancy. They make some pretty clever use of technology when reviewing the evidence in the trial, displaying the most important elements on a big TV so the audience can see it, too. The costuming's another highlight - different modes of dress and hairstyles really make the jury feel like a group of strangers thrown together. Finally, the acting is pretty darn good where it counts, especially with the deeply moral Juror #8 and his most vocal opponents.

Oh, and the racist.

Twelve Angry Jurors opens tonight and has showings on March 1, 3, 6, 7, and 8. Shows begin at 7:30 p.m. at the Midvale Performing Arts Center (MPAC) 695 West Center Street (7720 South) and are presented without intermission. Tickets may be purchased online at www.midvalearts.com. Ticket prices are $7 for general admission, $5 for seniors and children, family passes are available for $25 (one household).

Done with the Drama

Oookay... So I've been going back and forth on how to compose this post. In fact, over the last five/six months, I think I've started composing the post, only to completely scrap it a week later. But it's a sentiment I've been meaning to address for a while, so I think I'd better do it, just to get it out of my system.

I think I'm done with theater.

That's gonna come as a surprise to a few people who only know me through my involvement with the community theater scene in Salt Lake and Magna. Heck, I know for a fact that there are several people in my church and work circles who think my ONLY distinguishing characteristic is that I do theater every now and again, as of they've never heard me talk about Batman or My Little Pony.

Sure, I'd do the odd show when the urge struck me, and I spent four sleep-deprived years in an improv comedy troupe. but something happened where I just sort of hit a wall, and I just don't want to do it anymore.

I actually THOUGHT I was done about three years ago, after I did a production of Arsenic and Old Lace (which I loved). Then I thought I was done after Damn Yankees (which I hated, as did everyone who ever saw it, ever). Then I got roped into Blithe Spirit (which was awesome, but next to no one saw it). And then... actually, that's about it. That was about a year ago, and I haven't hardly been tempted to audition for another show.

My improv career came to an end back in August. I'd tell you the story as to why I resigned, but, to quote Scott Pilgrim (the comic book, not the song), "it's a long story full of sighs." So I'll spare you. The short version is that I was dedicating too much time to something that wasn't bringing me the joy or fulfillment it once had. My other passions suffered as a result, as did my enthusiasm for the art of improv itself. I felt it was best for everyone that I left, and I haven't been seriously tempted to get back into it since.

Now this isn't to say that I'll NEVER do another show, nor can I say that I'm done with performing as a hobby. I got a real kick out of Christmas caroling back in December, so I think I'll try to get back into that (if my voice can ever decide to settle the crap down again). I definitely need to scale way back... and I say that now, nearly a year after my last great theatrical responsibility. It's going to be a long, slow recovery here.

So... yeah. I've had a few people ask me to come and audition for their shows, or recommend me to friends of theirs, and I'm grateful to be thought so highly of (or, alternatively, I'm sorry that y'all had to scrape so far down to the bottom of the bucket where I dwell). I've been turning these opportunities down, mainly because my personal and professional life have become so tumultuous that the additional responsibility of learning lines and blocking makes me break out in a greasepaint sweat. But a while back I decided that I wanted to be a writer, and I've tended to let my theatrical responsibilities get in the way of my writing goals. I just can't do that anymore.

And before any of you say that I'm neglecting a talent or whatever... you probably haven't heard me try to deliver dialog in a French accent. Let me tell you that I'm doing a favor to the ENTIRE theatrical community by staying the heck home.

Steel Magnolias at the Midvale Performing Arts Center

I wish more community theaters would do straight plays. I mean, sure, everybody loves a musical (except for this guy), but not everyone can pull off a production of Into the Woods without looking foolish. The tiniest of imperfections - a cracked voice, a faulty microphone, one misstep in the choreography - and the whole thing looks like... well, like a community theater musical.

I'm not going to say that straight plays are easier. In many ways, they're harder. You have to work really hard to keep the audience's attention without breaking out the high-kicking girls every five minutes. It's just that, while I've seen a lot of community theater productions that are "good," I haven't seen many that are "great." And, of that small percentage, a lot of them are straight plays.

Last night I caught a production of Steel Magnolias put on by the Midvale Arts Council (and starring my foxy and fabulous friend). It's been a while since I've been able to make it out to a show (considering I've missed three productions I've got friends in recently), so I was glad to finally make one of them. And I'm pretty glad it was this one.

I'd never seen Steel Magnolias before, which surprised my friend. "Of course I've never seen it!" I said. "It's a bit of a chick flick." And it really is... ish. SM is the story of a group of women who meet up in a hair salon to talk about life and love and all that jazz. However, while it's a very woman-centric play, its characters are never just "women." You've got mothers, daughters, and a crazy lady with a dog. Feisty old sports fanatics and curling-iron monarchs. Each character has feelings and motivations and a whole lot of heart.

The central conflict revolves around Shelby, a young diabetic woman, and her mother, who can be a bit overprotective. Shelby's mother demands that her daughter take care of herself at the cost of missing out on certain experiences. Shelby retorts, "I'd rather have 30 minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special." Their conflict leads to some of the most inspiring moments of the show, as well as some of the most tragic.

Now, a good story can often be derailed by a so-so cast, but I must say that I couldn't spot a weak link in the show's lineup. Everyone in the cast is stellar. They really get into their roles, and they have a lot of fun with the delivery of their lines. I laughed good and hard that night - and I wasn't the only one.

Steel Magnolias wraps up its run this week. If you get the inclination, it's well worth checking out.

Blithe Spirit: The Condomine Identity

Okay, I'm not quite done waxing poetic about my favorite theatrical experience to date. What made Blithe Spirit such a special show for me (apart from, you know, everything else I've already mentioned) was the character work I was able to put in to the show.

I'm not really much of an actor. No, shut up, I'm really not. All of my legitimate theatrical training comes from the improv comedy shows I do weekly. That's been fun and helpful, but improvisation is NOT the same thing as acting. Seriously, ask my director. She made me wear my suitcoat during rehearsals to suppress my "improv crazy."

Most improvised characters have very little thought put into them beforehand. Sometimes, you'll get a stock character that you revisit over and over again, but that's about all the development a character gets in improv. The play's a completely different kind of creature. Most actors spend a great deal of time thinking about how their character thinks, where they come from, and what motivates them. While I've certainly PLAYED other characters before, I've never worked quite as hard on them as I did on Blithe Spirit's Charles Condomine.

That's Charles, by the way. Not me.

For the most part, I don't "play a role" when I'm onstage - I generally just act like myself. As Coach Van Buren in Damn Yankees, I got a bit gruffer than usual. As Mortimer Brewster in Arsenic and Old Lace, I acted a little more manic. As Lucentio in Taming of the Shrew, I was... actually, I was just as awkward about romance as I am in real life.

Charles is different. I made some very conscious decisions about how Charles acts, how he carries himself, how he sits and walks and talks. I doubt I succeeded in establishing a completely different persona - I heard on more than one occasion that I act a lot like Charles - but I still felt better about my "performance" as Charles than any role I've played before.

Actually, being told that I act like Charles kinda upset me, because if there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that Charles Condomine is kind of a #@$$er. I tried to portray him as a bit of a snarky, lazy, effete fop, whereas I myself am... um... not going to think about this subject anymore.

During one rehearsal leading up to Blithe's opening night, we sat around for about an hour to just talk through our characters. I remember saying that one of the primary motivations behind everything Charles does is comfort. He just wants someone else to take care of him so he can go off and write his little books. As a result, he's CONSTANTLY taking advantage of and mooching off the women in his life, from living with his mother until well into adulthood to shacking up with poor lonely widows. He's a total user.

Charles doesn't believe in love - or, if he does, he doesn't believe he's capable of it. He likes the company of a woman, but not her companionship. When it came time for him to settle down - and that's a commitment he makes solely to keep up the appearance of propriety - Charles chose his first wife purely based on his physical appetites. As a result, Elvira was much younger than him, although she probably wasn't as doting and devoted to him as he would have liked.

After Elvira died, Charles tried to make a go of the single life again. That lasted maybe two years. During that time, he continued to court and woo women who he thought could provide for him. Frustrated that no one seemed willing, he met Ruth, a woman who he considers less physically attractive than Elvira but more his intellectual peer.

(I think that last bit's a detail that only comes out in my head. I don't think anyone watching the production would have understood how Charles distinguishes his wives from each other, especially since both the woman who played Elvira and the one who played Ruth look VERY similar - and attractive - without makeup.)

I often said that if Blithe Spirit were told from Ruth's point of view rather than Charles's, it would be a tragedy, not a comedy. Ruth - at least, as Kristin played her - was actually in love with Charles. As a result, she doesn't realize until after she dies that she's married to a man who doesn't really care about her.

Still, Charles quite likes his marriage with Ruth. She's a bit more in-command than Elvira ever was, even downright bossy, but Charles considers that a small price to pay for the comfort, security, and implied respectability that comes with marriage.

I say "implied," because Charles makes it ABUNDANTLY clear that fidelity is a one-way street, and it, like all other roads, lead to him. He's a massive egoist and something of a hedonist. He expects everyone else to provide him with entertainment or pleasure, but he gets hurt and offended at any sign of infidelity in those he believes are committed to him. However, he makes no emotional commitment to anyone else, and so he often feels free to "whore it up" with whoever he wishes.

In fact, there was a rather hilarious line flub during one of our performances that gave me a bit more insight to the character. During Charles's final monolog, he confesses to Elvira that, during their marriage, he had an affair with a woman named Paula Westlake. However, a combination of the late hour, difficult accent, and glass of apple juice I almost definitely choked on (again), a friend in the audience told me that she thought she heard me say Paul Westlake instead. While I have no doubt Charles loves him some ladies, I get the feeling he may have been snacking from both sides of the buffet line.

When the curtain falls on Blithe Spirit, the audience is left with the impression that Charles, once again single, is off for South America. Our director said she thought Charles was likely to remain a bachelor the rest of his days. I give him two years, if that. I imagine Charles shacks up soon after with some Guatemalan sugar momma until he sucks her savings completely up. He then hops back across the pond and settles down with some lonely widow, because that's just the kind of guy he is.

I don't think I've ever come to understand a character I've played quite like I "got" Charles. He's limp and whiny, but he's got a certain level of charm to him, as well. I grew to like the guy, for all his failings. I even got a bit defensive when other people commented on his despicable nature. I'm certainly glad Blithe Spirit is over and done with, but I'll be kinda sad when I don't slip into his dirty womanizing shoes again.

Blithe Spirit Memories

Blithe Spirit closed on Saturday last week, and it's been a pretty bittersweet time. On the one hand, I finally have Saturday nights free again. On the other hand, I don't get to wear that awesome sweater/jacket combo that I wore during Act 2.

So swanky!

Well, when all's said and done, Blithe had a pretty successful run. Good audiences, good laughs, and, of course, some really good memories. Here's a list of those moments I'll always cherish from the Blithe Spirit run.

• "What are you doing in the bathroom?!"
• The vase which just would not break.
• "Think of a colorless color..."
• "Hey, Kristin, you should just slap me."
• Abominable/abdominal
• Wearing my suitcoat like a muzzle.
• Learning how to mix a dry martini.
• Watching hours of Fry and Laurie and calling it "research."
• That one time I got slapped so hard I had to ice my face.
• The vase which broke at totally the wrong time.
• Sitting down with the whole cast and talking characters for an hour and a half.
• Heather screaming so loud that the phone rang.
• It's not nerves, it's delirium tremens."
• An EXTREMELY late-night dinner with Kristin and Larissa after the show.
• The police standoff going on outside during Act 1 on closing night.
• "Once and for all, Elvi- I mean, Ruth."
• *thud* *thud* *thud* "Heather must have just had an entrance."
• Jordan laughing during the show and getting accused of being a plant.
• "I promise Violet will be good. I guarantee it!"

• Choking on my apple-juice whiskey every bloody night.
• Trying to figure out who just texted me while speaking with a British accent.
• "Did Stephen just TOUCH someone?"
• Getting punched out by Iverson every night
• Pouring a drink for myself and a drink for Ruth, and then drinking both of them myself offstage.
• Calvary/cavalry
• "Surely even an ectoplasmic manifestation has the right to expect a little of the milk of human kindness." I don't care if the line never got a laugh - I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY!
• Walk to the window, then the fireplace, then the gramophone, then BACK to the window...
• "I'll do my damndest!"
• Stopping abruptly right before Michaela and I were supposed to go onstage.
• The time I got slapped in the face and heard a very distinct "Ha ha!" from the audience.
• "That cuckoo is very angry. Listen." "CUCKOO!"
• Pouting.
• "Bless us so we don't fall down."
• Forgetting to tighten the cap on the cocktail shaker during the producers preview (and the subsequent geyser).
• "I'll stop in and look at your patient tomo-... oh, um, you talk too much."
• All the little Blithe Spirit sendups during the Jesters improv show: "Try to see things from my point of view." "What, you mean drunk?"
• The vase which EXPLODED on the mantlepiece.
• Having my grandmother come and see the show to support me, even though she HATES Blithe Spirit.
• Having friends I haven't seen in three years come to the show (love you, Matt and Carolyn!).
• Heck, having everyone who came to Blithe Spirit come to Blithe Spirit. Thank you all!

Braddy's Theatrical History

Well, Friday night saw the opening of Blithe Spirit out at the Empress Theatre, and the show has been a TON of FUN. Recently I've gotten a bit nostalgic for all the theatrical work I've done over the years. After all, there's nothing like a show opening to get you to look back at shows past.

So, here it is: Braddy's complete theatrical history. Enjoy!

1992 - Second Grade Pageant

Our musical pageant followed the adventures of Bill and Ted through American history, because someone thought that the best source material for a children's show would be an 80's stoner flick. I played President Eisenhower. And that's how my seven-year-old self knew more about American History than I do as an adult.

1996 - Shakespeare and Greek Tragedy

I loved my sixth grade teacher, but there's a pretty high probability that she was insane. We actually did two different plays that year: Antigone a Greek tragedy about a woman who gives her brother a proper burial after he dishoners the tyrant king, and Hamlet, a play about Mel Gibson being sad. I actually played the evil monarch/unrighteous king in both productions. Braddy's first experience with typecasting.

1997 - Oklahoma!

I've mentioned this before, I think, but I have no idea why on earth I auditioned for the school muscial back in eighth grade. Whatever the reasoning, Oklahoma! is what got me into singing. But my musical history is a different matter entirely.

I nearly nabbed the part of Judd, but lost out to someone with actual muscle mass. I wound up playing the part of Matt, a character who had a name despite having no lines, no special blocking, and no actual mention in the script outside of the character list. Strange...

1998 - Kiss Me, Kate

I must have enjoyed Oklahoma!, because I auditioned for the show the next year. I played an extra, but this time, I didn't even have a character name. What a rip-off!

I tend to use "Another Op'nin', Another Show" and "Where is the Life that Late I Led?" as audition pieces for musicals nowadays.

2000 - Li'l Abner

I think Li'l Abner is criminally underperformed. It's a great show - definitely dated in its sensibilities, but entertaining. I spent most of my stage time standing behind a cardboard cutout of a body builder, because the best thing for my self-esteem at the tender age of 15 was another reminder that I was just too skinny to be a real man.

2001 - Once Upon a Mattress

I've never had a costume that embarassed me more - a tunic that was basically just a short dress (and was see-thru under stage lights) and tights. Thankfully, I had so many good friends in the production, like a dance partner who repeatedly called me a b@$%@^^@%. Good times.

2002 - Anne of Green Gables

This show is terrible. Seriously, just terrible. The main love ballad, "Wonderin'," contains the line "And we laughed like parrots/When I called her 'Carrots.'" Also, the Act 1 finale, arguably the big show-stopper, is a bouncy little number called "Ice Cream" as lackluster as it is bland.

Anne of Green Gables is also the only show I've ever received financial compensation for.

2008 - Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

I thought I was done with theater. Then I was asked to audition for this show right after I graduated from college. I've been doing theater fairly irregularly ever since. Seven Brides had the most demanding choreography of any show I've ever participated in, and I loved it - except for the time I set my partner down on my big clumsy foot and sprained her ankle (sorry, Skye!).

Seven Brides nearly took the prize for worst costuming with the blanket they draped over me like a toga. The director took one look at my pale, knobby shoulder and said, "Actually, let's cover that up." So I wore a blanket dress.

2009 - Taming of the Shrew

Braddy's inability to emulate a convincing accent was on fine display during this Western adaptation of a Shakespearean classic. As, too, was his inability to play a romantic role.

2009 - One Act Play Festival

In years past, the Empress Theatre has participated in a program wherein high school students submit a self-written one-act play for consideration. Winners get to see their play performed on stage. I participated in a little show called "Thinking Out Loud," wherein a socially awkward young man goes on a date with a girl way out of his league. I played the boy's thoughts. It was pretty awesome.

2009 - Arsenic and Old Lace

2009 was a busy year for me. Three shows (and an ongoing stint with The Jesters Royale) just about ate up my whole life. I ended the year on a high note, though. Arsenic was one of the best theatrical experiences I had - manic and fun. I played Mortimer Brewster, a theater critic who over-analyzes everything. So, basically, I was myself on stage, except I parted my hair a little differently.

2010 - Damn Yankees

This play is terrible.

The production was actually a bit troubled - we weren't fully cast until about two weeks before we opened, and one of our most prominent dancers quit during the run of the show. Thank goodness I made a bunch of friends in the cast. Otherwise, this would have been a complete waste of time.

***

And that brings us to...

2012 - Blithe Spirit

I'm not going to lie - I've never been prouder of a show than I am of this one. I (and the rest of a very talented cast) put a lot of work into an incredibly wordy but HILARIOUS production. I've never played a role I've enjoyed more than Charles Condomine, a clever but lazy and abdominally selfish author.

Also, I get to drink a lot on stage.

Blithe Spirit runs every Monday, Friday, and Saturday from now until May 26 at the Empress Theatre. You should probably come see it.

Braddy's Dream Roles

The Les Mis buzz I posted about yesterday got me thinking about my life on the stage, as it were. Actually, I've been to see a lot of plays and performances recently, so theatre's been on my mind quite a bit. You know what? I kinda miss it.

It's been over a year since the last time I was on stage in a professional production. I've been doing improv with the Jesters Royale regularly since then, and it's been a blast, but it's not quite the same as spending hours in rehearsal, sweating over lines, and getting into arguments with the costumer.

Hm. Not exactly a pretty picture, is it? Trust me - it's better than it sounds.

I won't be able to do a show of any kind for several months at least - maybe longer. Still, I'm already dreaming of the limelight again. And, while I'm dreaming, I might as well fantasize about some roles I'd LOVE to play - even though I'm PROBABLY not the best choice for any of them.


Benedick, Much Ado About Nothing

If there's one role I'm TOTALLY suited for, it's this one. I'm not exactly the strongest Shakespearean actor, but I love the Bard and MOST of his works (I'm of the opinion that Hamlet is overrated - see below). Much Ado About Nothing is far and away my favorite Shakespeare play. I sympathize quite a bit with Benedick, the belligerently single soldier who secretly longs for someone to understand him...

That was... a bit more revealing than I'd intended. Let's move on.


Jamie Wellerstein, The Last 5 Years

I first heard "The Schmuel Song" nearly ten years ago without any idea of where it came from. When my friend Carolyn sat me down and played The Last Five Years for me, I about punched holes in the ceiling, I was so excited.

This is a true "dream" role - I don't quite have the range to hit Jamie's highest notes. Also, I'm not Jewish. But the story of a struggling author who hits it big (and subsequently lets his life go to crap) touches me, and I'd love a chance to tell his story on stage.


Rosencrantz, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead

Truthfully, I'd take just about any role in this production. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead is one of the finest plays ever written. It's funny without ever getting too silly and thought-provoking without ever getting too heavy. Tom Stoppard single-handedly justified the existence of Hamlet, as far as I'm concerned.

Now, I'd probably do a better job of portraying the more straight-laced, analytical Guildenstern, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't prefer the goofier Rosencrantz rants. And by "lying," I mean "lying in a box with a lid on it."



Javert, Les Miserables
Chauvelin, The Scarlet Pimpernel

There's just something about playing an uptight police officer during the French Revolution that appeals to me...

No question - Javert is one of the finest roles in all of musical theater. His dogged persecution of the criminal Jean Valjean never falters, drawing strength from his unshakable conviction that he is right. The instant it appears he may be incorrect, his world shatters - making his a truly tragic tale. His music's pretty good, too.

Chauvelin's pretty similar to Javert. What he lacks in moral complexity, he more than makes up for in just darn good music. "Falcon in the Dive" is probably one of my favorite Broadway numbers - it's dramatic and over-the-top in all the right ways.

(poster by Manelle Oliphant Miller, who is awesome)

Mortimer Brewster, Arsenic and Old Lace

Maybe I'm cheating a little bit here. I have, after all, already done this role at the Empress Theater. The thing is, Arsenic and Old Lace is the best producion I've ever been involved in and Mortimer Brewster my favorite role I've ever played. I would LOVE to do it all again.

Especially after a couple more years of improv comedy training. My ability to do physical comedy has increased quite a bit since the summer of 2009. I'm still no Carey Grant, but I think I could actually do the part justice now.

So that's my list. Theater folks, what are YOUR favorite/dream roles?

Little Happy Secrets: An Unusual Mormon Play

The Salt Lake Acting Company recently put on a production of Melissa Leilani Larson's short play, Little Happy Secrets, which I caught Friday night. The play tells the story of a young woman named Claire, a good little Mormon girl who served a faithful mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, studied at BYU, and fell in love with her female roommate.

So, yeah, it's not exactly another fluffy Mormon show.

The LDS church has a difficult history with its gay and lesbian members (and, if that's news to you, you may want a stronger sunscreen to keep your skin all pasty pale after all those years living under rocks). The church does not support same-sex marriage and teaches that a homosexual lifestyle is sinful. As a result, homosexuality is a difficult subject to talk about among members of the church.

Going in to Little Happy Secrets, I expected some discomfort during the show. After all, I consider myself a faithful, almost-orthodox Mormon - one who loves bawdy humor a bit too much, maybe, but practicing nonetheless. I did find the play a LITTLE uncomfortable, but not for the reason I expected.

See, I could RELATE to Claire on all of the little things she spoke about during the play. Boiled down to its simplest element, Little Happy Secrets is a story about a girl in love with someone who does not love her back, and that's something I, like most people, know too well. And, really, how hard is that to sympathize with?

Little Happy Secrets wisely avoids the political tangles surrounding homosexuality and focuses on the human side of things. The story doesn't seek to change people's minds or convert them to a particular point of view. Rather, it simply presents a human story and invites us to be compassionate for the person. Whatever your opinions on same-sex attraction (and, please, keep them to yourself - my blog is NOT the forum for this discussion), can you really say that there's a single person undeserving of some compassion?

And that's the great thing about art: it's non-judgmental. The rest of the evening, I kept having this line running through my head - a modification of 1 Corinthians 13: "Art suffereth long, and is kind... seeketh not her own... but rejoiceth in the truth."

I was also dwelling on that line from Hamlet: "I say, we will have no more marriages. Those that are married already—all but
one—shall live; the rest shall keep as they are." Not quite sure why.

Since you may be wondering, the aspect of the play that made me uncomforable was the presentation. Little Happy Secrets is written as an extended monologue/flashback - thus, a good 90% of the dialogue comes from one person, whose inner turmoil is reflected so well in the text that the entire play comes out in a near emotional monotone. There's a bit of a shouting match towards the end, and the last five minutes or so contain an emotional gutpunch that make the rest of the show worth it, but the rest of the show felt a bit too bland in comparison.

It's also a very talky production - most of the feelings are described to us rather than shown to us. That's not NECESSARILY a bad thing, but I've always been a "show-don't-tell" kind of guy (a phrase which, in this context, contains unfortunate echoes of "don't ask, don't tell").

In the end, though, I'm glad I saw Little Happy Secrets. It's not quite Living Scriptures, but it's not The Book of Mormon musical, either.

If the World Were a Musical...

Last night I gave a friend of mine a quick recap on a show I saw last week. Afterwards, we started imagining how the world would be different if it operated by the same rules of musical theater – people breaking out into song and dance, etc. We compiled a small list of possibilities – one which has grown considerably since.

IF THE WORLD WERE A MUSICAL…

• Babies would learn to crawl, then walk, and then soft shoe.
• Two young men ballet dancing in the street would be cause to call the police.
• Sixteen-year-old girls would all look twenty-five.
• The physically uncoordinated would be sent to “special class” in school.
• Roger Ebert would call High School Musical a “startlingly realistic depiction of adolescent heartache.”
• Piano skills could be listed on a resume as a second language.
• No wars would ever be fought; however, large crowds of soldiers would inexplicably flock to bars.
• Tone deaf people would have NO friends.
• The tax system would collapse, as all accountants would quit their jobs to pursue more artistic careers.
• Ugly people would ALWAYS be evil. Period.
• Generational disputes would be accompanied by country guitar, keyboard synthesizers, and a turntable.
• The Salvation Army bellmen would release an album… and it would go platinum.
• All women you ask out on dates will say “no” first, until you have a duet with them. Then they’ll shoot you.
• Matthew Broderick would be voted “World’s Sexiest Man” for YEARS until Neil Patrick Harris rose to fame.
• People would only kiss after hitting the highest note in their register.
• Basses will never get kissed.
• Nobody would sit outside on the balcony to be alone but to sing ensemble pieces with the neighbors.
• Every city in the world would have its own theme song, which immigrants would be required to sing upon entering the borders or be deported.
• All Americans would speak with New York accents.
• Talking to one’s-self wouldn’t be considered strange – it’d be expected.
• People could walk down the street in their underwear and attract no attention.
• The government would quarantine an entire city if one case of a cold is reported.
• The center of the filmmaking world would be in India, not California.
• Pirate would still be a viable career option.
• All politicians would be tenors.
• All landlords would be basses.
• The Gettysburg Address would begin, “Four score and seven bars ago…”
• No one would actually NEED to wear glasses, but everyone would wear them until they became sexually available.
• Andrew Lloyd Weber would be a famous biographer… and he’d still suck.

Things I'll Love Forever: The Fantasticks

I've long considered musical theater to be something of a broken genre. Admittedly, my opinion is based primarily on the relatively limited selection of musicals I've been exposed to, a list that consists primarily of Rodgers and Hammerstein artifacts (Sorry, Sound of Music fans, but I find your show quaint and uninspired).

Back in college, though, I took a class on the history of the Broadway musical where I was exposed to this little production:


My life's been better for it.

1. The Fantasticks involves a tiny cast of seven people (and a wall) on a tiny stage - so unlike the pomp and bombast of today's Broadway productions. The intimacy of the show allows for a purer focus on storytelling over showmanship - something you rarely see in Broadway anymore.
2. Despite the small size of the cast, every character leaves a powerful impression - from the silly romantic Louisa to the (culturally insensitive?) Indian Mortimer who is good at dying.
3. The enigmatic El Gallo, narrator (and antagonist?) of the story sits on my list of roles I'd love to play. He's equal parts charismatic and threatening - a showman's showman.
4. Most Broadway nerds unfamiliar with The Fantasticks have heard and love "Try To Remember," a low-key, moving little number about clinging to good memories when times are hard. The other music's worth checking out as well. Sadly, you don't get to hear the rape song anymore ("It Depends on What You Pay") without heavy alterations to the lyrics (but we all still talk about "The Rape of the Sabine Women").
5. In my mind, the most ingenious aspect of The Fantasticks is how the show is able to turn its alleged weaknesses to its advantage. A cardboard moon hanging during a romantic scene is taken down when the mystique of the evening turns to the unflattering light of day. There's not even an actual wall in the story, but a mime holding a stick. The "wall" can thus serve as a one-man stage crew and prop dispenser, all surprisingly without breaking the illusion of the show.
6. When you add it all together - the simplistic set, the broken character cliches, and the cardboard moon - The Fantasticks serves as a surprisingly sophisticated deconstruction of the Broadway musical. The show definitely has a cynical side but manages to maintain the heart of a good, old-fashioned Broadway romance even so.

The movie version, starring New Kid on the Block Joey McIntyre and Teller (of Penn & Teller) in a speaking role, served as my introduction to the show. However, you're best served catching it on stage if you can... and I just so happen to know of a production in Murray right now. Go see it!

The Fantasticks won me over by showing that you can have your cynical cake and eat it too, and that's why I'll love it forever.

November Super-Amazing Project

Last night I got offered a role in an upcoming production of The Best Christmas Pageant Ever at the Empress Theatre - which is funny, because I don't think they've even auditioned for that show yet.

Edit: I guess they did the auditions already, but I still didn't go.

This is the second time in the past month that I've been offered a role without auditioning for a show - that's the perk of being a man in community musical theater. However, I think I'm going to have to turn this down just like the last one, cuz I've got another special project lined up for the month of November.

Are you ready?

It's NANOWRIMO!!!

Now, I don't think I'm going to do the OFFICIAL official NaNoWriMo competition, but I'm sticking with the intended goal: write a 50,000 word novel (about 175 pages) in a month. It's gonna be a crazy amount of work, but I'm super-uber excited for it.

Follicle Fallacies

I think I've decided to grow a beard. I usually do something unusual after a show ends, and, now that Damn Yankees has ended, I guess it's beard time.

This is a stupid decision, and history proves it.

See, I had to grow a beard once before - back in 2009, when I was in a western-themed production of Taming of the Shrew. I kept a photo log of how well the beard grew in, and I was... well, less than pleased with the results.

Week 2 of beard growth started off promisingly enough, except for one major deficiency:


There's a little patch on the left side of my face where hair just doesn't grow. It winds up looking kinda silly.

See?

I guess, when it grew in thick enough, it looked all right. I got kinda lazy and just didn't trim it up like I should.

And then... THIS happened:

Absolutely HATED the moustache/coffee saver combo. I looked like a total hick.

Okay, so total hick kinda WAS what we were going for. And even I must admit that the costume for the show was pretty killer. Still, the moustache just straight up looked TERRIBLE on me outside of my cowboy hat and boots.

So, yeah, the show ended, and I decided it was time to do something dramatic with my hair. The decision was a pretty easy one to make: lose the 'stache.

Even so, I managed to make one pretty stupid decision:

DOUCHE!!!

So, yeah, I'll try the beard thing again, if y'all promise to let me know if I start to looke like a spouse-abuser.

Music and the Devil - A Damn Yankees Opinion

I've been involved in a production of Damn Yankees out at the Empress Theatre. I had a fantastic time of it - met a lot of great people, learned some fantastic songs and dances, and ate a LOT of good, home-made food. It was a tough show plagued with setbacks (and, on occasion, actual plagues). Overall, it was a great experience.

Too bad Damn Yankees is one of the worst plays I've ever seen.

First, let me make clear that I don't hate all musicals. Back in college, I took a course on the history of musical theater and Broadway. As a part of the course, I watched dozens of musicals, and many of them I loved. Damn Yankees was NOT one of them.

I auditioned for Damn Yankees because I'd worked with this particular director before and had a pretty good time with it. I'd also been hankering to perform in a musical again (the last time I'd done a musical was Seven Brides for Seven Brothers about two years earlier). I loved the cast, we all had a great time, and (if I may say so - which I may, because I will) we put on a good production.

Still, Damn Yankees is a sloppy, sloppy show. The musical numbers are almost universally pointless, the characters insubstantial, and the plot so full of holes you could sift flour with it. Even that's not enough to really make me hate the show - as long as it's sufficiently fun, I'm willing to overlook a lot of shortcomings.

I can't get over the devil, though.

I HATE the way the devil is portrayed in Damn Yankees. I can go with the smooth-talking sociopath approach. It allows for too many used car salesman jokes, but it works just fine. No, the REAL problem is that he appears to be completely impotent.

Joe Boyd, our protagonist, agrees to work for the devil in exchange for youth and incredible prowess at baseball. Joe manages to work an escape clause into the contract, which stipulates that he can get out of the deal at midnight on a certain date. Joe misses the deadline, so his soul should be forfeit, right?

Too bad Applegate forgot about the POWER of LOVE TM.

Applegate: Time's up, Joe. You're mine now. FOREVER.

Joe: But I'm in love with my wife.

Applegate: CURSES!!!

I think this is what cheeses me off the most. Joe Boyd makes some incredibly STUPID mistakes, and he suffers zero consequences for them. Normally, when the antagonist of a story is THE DEVIL, I want the good guy to win. In this case, Joe brings these problems on himself. He makes it clear that he knows EXACTLY what he's getting into, but he just dives right into it. And what happens to him?

Not a blasted thing.

Apparently, love is strong enough to completely erase ALL of the bad decisions you make, even a casual love of convenience that you value less than the win record of your favorite sports team.

Somebody really should have told Spider-Man about that loophole.

Maybe I Should Have Thought This Through...

Thought about making a Why I'm Still Single comic out of this, but the whole story's a bit too good for a single panel.

Anyway, I was working on my sketch while at rehearsals for Damn Yankees last night. Recently, I haven't been taking my sketches too seriously, so, as a result, most of them have been pretty sloppy. Well, last night, I decided to try to get a bit more authenticity. So I went and asked another castmate to model for me... sort of.

I walk up to her, help her get into the pose I was going for - head down and turned slightly to the side. I just needed to see how close the chin gets to the shoulder and how much of the neck is visible. So I looked her over as best I could, got a sense for how all the different edges of the image would line up.

It took about thirty seconds... which, if you've ever actually counted out thirty seconds in silence, takes a REALLY LONG TIME. Well, after that awkward silence, I let her know I was done by saying, "Good enough."

Trouble is, I don't think I told her exactly what I was doing.

Her take on events shows that she understood things a bit differently than I did. Yeah, um, I guess I could have been clearer.

Yeah, I suppose that she WAS "good enough" to look at for about thirty seconds, but not quite the same way SHE meant. Oh, and she's totally lovely, I should add.

(Larissa who explained it all slightly wrong was concerned with maintaining anonymity, but I figure I gave that up when I put my name on the internet)

Musical Woes of Braddy the Bass

Music’s a topic I don’t talk about nearly as much as I should – specifically, my own music. I don’t play any instruments (unless you count the three months of piano lessons I took back in second grade), and I’m no composer (except for that one song I wrote after I broke up with my high-school girlfriend, which is appropriately angsty and complete rubbish). Still, I’ve always LOVED singing.

In fact, my love of music may be the only reason I do any type of theater AT ALL (and this includes every play I’ve been in over the past two years and my involvement with The Jesters Royale). I started auditioning for plays after my voice instructor at Utah State University encouraged me to go for a role in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. I started taking voice lessons because I missed the experience of singing before an audience. My first vocal performances were back in junior high and high school where I had excellent teachers… who probably connect with Kevin Bacon somewhere along the line.

As much as I love singing, though, I’ve never been incredibly fond of my own voice. I’m very much a bass/baritone – which is fine, I guess. We low-singers don’t generally get much love from other composers, though. Solos aren’t ever really written for basses unless they focus on the high-end of our register, and, when singing in ensemble, we generally get the plodding foundation rather than any of the fun stuff. We’re the tubas of the vocal performance world.

Above: Self Portrait

Now, there are a few low voices out there that get a lot of respect. I mean, a LOT of respect. For example, there’s Barry White:

Isaac Hayes:

And that guy that sings “Old Man River”:

These men are talented and influential musicians all, but they also have something in common that I don’t have. If I’m honest (and I have to be – the Bible says so), then I must admit that I am not, in fact, black, but rather white as newly fallen Norwegian snow.

You know who else is a skinny, kinda awkward white bass?

Do people still talk about Rickrolling? I hope not. Maybe then, we’ll all take a minute to recognize Rick Astley for the musical genius he is.

Class Conscious Comedy - Courtesy of the Jesters Royale

Have you ever felt poor? I mean, not just “lower-middle class” poor, but dirty fingernail, uneducated, get-hit-in-the-face-by-a-wreath-thrown-by-Ebenezer-Scrooge poor? Well, if you haven’t and you’d like to, I recommend making friends with a doctor and heading over to their pad – which is likely the size of a small hospital itself, only, instead of sick people, it’s full of statues of naked women.

The story begins (and ends) on the evening of December 12, 2009. I, with a few of my comrades from the Jesters Royale comedy improv troupe (http://www.jestersimprov.com/ – enough pimping for you?) had been invited to participate in the Christmas celebration for the Maliheh Free Clinic. The party took place at the doctor’s home in Holladay, UT. Truthfully, though, I could have sworn that we drove through a wardrobe somewhere along the way, because we must have been in Narnia or some other magic kingdom. The house was fully lit up like a palace, the artwork and furnishings were strange and unusual, and I’m pretty sure I heard the house cat speak to me. Couldn’t understand it, though – must have been French.

The guests all mingled in the lobby room – which was larger than my childhood home and held a couch larger than my bed – dressed to the nines in nice sport coats and sparkly dresses. Meanwhile, we, the entertainment, stood off to the side with our filthy hands stuffed into the pockets of our jeans. One of the guests must have noticed our discomfort. She, naturally, assumed we just needed something to do, so she came over and politely asked, “Are you the help?”

We set up in the gym for our performance – and, yes, this house has a gym, complete with a treadmill, basketball hoop, and the mounted heads of water bison, deer, and gnus. Feeling a little uncomfortable, though, I wandered back to the kitchen in search of something to drink. The counter was full of bottles to choose from. Unfortunately, the bottles were each labeled with some hard-to-pronounce name and a year (must’ve been French). I slunk back to the gym, thoroughly intimidated. Thankfully, on my second foray to the drink bar (the others came with me this time, so I had reinforcements), I found a solitary bottle of 7-Up, which I had never been so happy to make mine.

Before the show, I decided it would be wise to use the bathroom. Just like everything else I’d encountered in this house thus far, the bathroom scared the… you know what? I don’t think I can tastefully finish that sentence.

Anyway, as I went in to the bathroom, I noticed a large, clear, circular window, about 3 feet in diameter, sitting at waist level just above the toilet. Just as I saw it, Blake (one of the other Jesters) called out, “Look out the window there and see if you can see that big white dog!”

“Well,” I said, as a member of the catering staff walked past the window, “I don’t see a DOG…”

I went to the sink to wash my hands. For some reason, the knob for the hot water wouldn’t turn. I figured they must have set up a faucet with those pull knobs, so I grabbed the knob and pulled it up. I knew I was mistaken when the knob came off in my hands.

Finally, the time came for us to perform. We included in our lineup a game called World’s Worst, in which the audience shouts out an occupation, and the players in the game act out what the world’s worst example of that occupation would be. When asked for an occupation that only required a high-school diploma, the audience was quick to respond with “improv performer.”

“Hey!” I said, a little heatedly, “I’ll have you know that I have a bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing!”

They seemed to find this even funnier.

Okay, so I kid a little bit. The performance wasn’t bad, the audience seemed to enjoy it, and the doctor who hosted the party extended every courtesy to us. He even joined us for a game of Sound Effects and made fantastic motorcycle noises (while he was trying to imitate an earthquake).

Still, though, I never thought I’d be so relieved to head back to our usual venue on Magna main, across from all the bars.

I'll See YOU On Broadway

I spent some time over the weekend at my parents' place - mainly because I simply HAD to take my mother up on her offer for a pizza dinner (if you'd ever had it, you'd know). Anyway, so I spent some time looking at the pictures my parents have on the wall. My parents have a little display for each of their children. So I saw:

1 - pictures of Joseph and his beautiful wife, Deborah
2 - pictures of Bryan and his beautiful wife, Patricia
3 - pictures of Robert, his beautiful wife, Allicia, and their beautiful daughter, Claire.
4 - pictures of me doing musical theater with a bunch of dudes.

I think my parents think I'm gay.

My Showbiz History

Bored at work? Want to write a blog entry, but can't think of anything to do? Here comes the meme to save the day! This one's specifically about stage performances, though, so I feel justified in filling it out. The specificity makes it more meaningful.

LAST SHOW ADDED TO YOUR RESUME:
Taming of the Shrew at the Empress Theatre - a WESTERN :-)

LAST SHOW YOU AUDITIONED FOR:
An Evening of One-Act Plays at the Empress.

DID YOU GET IT?
Yeah, I just don't put it on my resume.

LAST SONG/MONOLOGUE YOU USED AT AN AUDITION:
"I've Heard it All Before" from Shenandoah.

FAVORITE MUSICAL(s) EVER:
Probably Les Misérables.

FAVORITE PLAY(s) EVER:
Definitely Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead.

FAVORITE ROLE YOU'VE PLAYED, AND FROM WHAT SHOW?
Honestly, it would probably be Ephraim from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. That was just a fun show.

FAVORITE ROLE OVERALL THAT I WOULD LOVE TO PLAY:
In a musical, either Javert from Les Mis or Chauvelin from The Scarlet Pimpernel. In a non-musical, either Guildenstern in R & G are Dead or Iago in Othello.

SUPERSTITION:
Not really superstitious in theater. Well, no more than in real life.

YOUR GOAL IN SHOW BUSINESS:
No goals. It's just a fun hobby - when I have the time for it.

FAVORITE DIRECTOR YOU HAVE EVER WORKED WITH:
Probably Porter Williams, director for Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.

WHAT WAS YOUR VERY FIRST SHOW?
Greek tragedy Antigone. I was twelve.

HAVE YOU EVER HAD A DANCE SOLO?
Yeah, no. Not much of a dancer here.

HAVE YOU EVER HAD A SINGING SOLO?
Two lines. Does that count?

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN THE LAST PERSON TO TAKE A BOW?
Only in that the rest of the ensemble had already started their bow and I was behind.

HAVE YOU BEEN TO NEW YORK?
Nope, but I'd love to go. That's really the poor starving writer in me, though, not the actor.

HAVE YOU BEEN TO LA?
Yeah, on choir tour. No big deal.

WHAT'S THE SCARIEST PART OF AN AUDITION?
The whole frickin' thing! Don't know why, but I'm TERRIFIED at auditions.

WHAT'S THE BEST PART OF AN AUDITION?
Getting a part. Of course, that's when you realize that you've just signed away the next three months of your life, so maybe it's not all that it's cracked up to be.

NAME A SHOW YOU WOULD NEVER DO AGAIN:
Anne of Green Gables. Wow, that show's a stinker.

NAME A SHOW YOU COULD DO FOR YEARS:
Never been in one that I wouldn't lose patience with after a few months.

WHAT ARE YOU AUDITIONING FOR NEXT?
Possibly Arsenic and Old Lace, but that remains to be seen.

DO YOU KEEP IN TOUCH WITH PAST CAST MEMBERS?
Depends. You could probably find most of them in my friend list on Facebook. Doesn't mean I still talk to them, though.

ON A SCALE OF 1-10, HOW IMPORTANT IS GETTING PAID?
The only time I've ever gotten a paycheck from a show, I got about $180. For the entire show. Yet I still do it, so I'll have to say 1.

SOMETHING EMBARASSING OR UNEXPECTED THAT HAPPENED TO YOU WHILE ON STAGE?
During the one-act plays I just finished, somebody dropped a line, so we wound up skipping about three minutes worth of material. Turns out that I'M the one that screwed up. Other than that, of course, I'm completely infallible, but... man, that sucked.

WHO IS THE MOST DIFFICULT PERSON (ON STAGE OR OFF) THAT YOU HAVE EVER WORKED WITH?
Probably you. You, and your mom. You, your mom, and that sea troll you call a girlfriend.

WHAT IS YOUR ONSTAGE PET PEEVE?
Actors making crap up on closing night.

WHAT IS YOUR BACKSTAGE PET PEEVE?
Don't really have one. Honestly, backstage is where all the fun happens.

EVER BEEN NAKED ONSTAGE? WOULD YOU?
Got close - wrapped up in an itchy blanket during Seven Brides. From that experience, I doubt any director would WANT me to be onstage naked.

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN KILLED?
In Hamlet. I played King Claudius. And I almost committed suicide in Antigone, but we dropped the curtain right at the end.

BEEN DRUNK?
Nope. All of my characters have handled their liquor excellently.

PLAYED SOMEONE HALF YOUR AGE?
Yeah. In Anne of Green Gables, I played a young kid, despite being the tallest person in the cast. I wore knickers to make me look shorter.

PLAYED SOMEONE TWICE YOUR AGE?
At least. I was 12 when I played King Claudius.

CRIED?
Never. I'm too awesome for tears.

FIRED A GUN?
Not yet...

BEEN DRENCHED?
No. Woulda made Anne of Green Gables more fun.

BEEN IN A DREAM SEQUENCE?
I'm gonna say "no." Sometimes, in musical theater, it's hard to tell if it's supposed to be a dream sequence or not.

BEEN KISSED?
First time was in Hamlet in sixth grade. No kid should have to do a stage kiss before he's gotten a real kiss. That's all I have to say.