Lovingly Alive: The Writings of Jeremy Gable

My Trip To Restore Sanity

2010-11-02T14:22:00.000-07:00

The morning of October 30th, the day before a Halloween in which I will do nothing at all, I wake up in a Radisson Hotel in Arlington, Virginia. I get out of the sleep number bed (I chose 20 as my number, and paid the price by having slept on the equivalent of a barrel of soap suds), take an unintentionally cold shower, gather up my stuff and check out. Two friends and I leave to attend the Rally To Restore Sanity And/Or Fear.

From the moment that we step out of the hotel, it becomes obvious that this is going to be big. We are not even in the District of Columbia, indeed are three miles away from where we need to be. It is well over two hours before even the warm-up act will take the stage. And yet there is a throng of people already making their way toward the Metro station. And true, the Synetic Theater's production of King Arthur will perform that day, but not until 8:00 p.m., so these crowds must be for the rally (by the way, that production is extended to this weekend, so if you want to see "DC's premier physical theater", this looks like a winner).

Descending the escalators (which for assumedly crowd control purposes were stopped, making them look like ostentatious, nightmarish-looking stairs), we stumble upon a mass of bodies all gathered around the rail pass machines. However, the crowds are smart and fast-moving, and we get our passes in less than 10 minutes. We descend more inactive escalators (a running motif for the day. Perhaps DC just doesn't like technology in motion) and step into DC's idea of a subway station.

So, having lived in Philadelphia for over a year now, I am used to the idea of a subway station. Being an underground tunnel with full public access, it is generally dirty, harshly lit and contains a number of indecipherable smells, with a floor on which someone has undoubtedly jizzed. However, the "Metro", as they call it, more resembles the queue for Space Mountain than a collective of a metropolitan area's crazy population. It is clean, with low ambient lighting, a sleek design and a number of very helpful signs. The forward-thinking, user-friendly efforts to get these stations up and running are in no way indicative of the usual practices in the area that it services.

The subway ride is already crowded as we board and continues with each stop to further resemble a seafood restaurant's lobster tank. At one particular stop, we are told several times by the driver that we cannot continue until all of the doors are closed (we are even given a "final warning", though we are not told what the consequences will be. As it turned out, that warning was not the final one, anyway).

Finally stepping out at the Smithsonian stop (and getting to breathe something other than the sweater on some young woman's shoulder), we make our way into the sunlight and into a mess of people, signs and ideologies. We are handed a small map of the National Mall and a $10 gift card to DonorsChoose.org. We pass by not one but two people dressed as Waldo of Where's Waldo fame (one of whom was apparently dating a woman dressed as Carmen Sandiego. Best...crossover...ever).

Then we shimmy and step our way to the dead center of the crowd. We are too far away to really see anything on the stage, but we can at least see the stage. We plant ourselves near a JumboTron, and get ready for the festivities.

The event starts promptly at noon, as The Roots and John Legend come out to warm up the crowd. Those of us attending the event do not know that the first hour is not being aired, and the "Countdown To The Rally" on the JumboTron does not inform us that we are being "warmed up". So when the funk was brought for 40 minutes, the crowd was getting a tad restless.

But the set ended on a rousing note, and we were soon treated to the MythBusters, a show I have not yet had the chance to enjoy. They warmed up the crowd with a variety of experiments, including doing The Wave, making a variety of simultaneous noises and jumping in unison (which according to a seismologist, gave of a force that was 100 times worse than a minor car crash).

Then 1:00 rolls around, and the actual rally part of the Rally is a go. Jon Stewart comes out, gives a brief speech before Stephen Colbert emerges in a spoof of the Chilean miner rescue (I'm glossing over the parts that you can - and should - watch on Comedy Central's website). Benediction is given by Father Guido Sarducci, and a poem about fear is read by Sam Waterston.

We are also treated to a fantastic duel, as Yusuf (a.k.a. Cat Stevens) performs "Peace Train", only to be interrupted by Ozzy Osbourne singing "Crazy Train". The duel culminates in a stalemate, and The O'Jays take the stage for a bridge-gapping rendition of "Love Train". We are also treated to poignant musical performances by two unusual duos: Mavis Staples & Jeff Tweedy, and Kid Rock & Sheryl Crow.

We are treated to awards for reason, as well as awards for inducing fear. Reason awards are given to, amongst others, professional wrestler and humanitarian Mick Foley (who knew those two terms would go together) and Detroit Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga. Awards for fear are given to the news organizations that prohibited their employees from attending the rally (since they were not present, the award was given to someone stronger than them: a seven-year-old girl) and Anderson Cooper's tight black t-shirt.

A debate between reason and fear invites guest stars Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and R2-D2 (as examples of friendly Muslims and robots, respectively), and a battle breaks out with a climax resembling both Peter Pan and Wizard of Oz. And finally, Jon Stewart takes the stage for what he calls a moment of sincerity.

On September 20, 2001, I watched the first episode of The Daily Show after 9/11. Jon Stewart was a congenial host, poking the ribs of those in charge without really shaking the foundation of the political system. However, this episode, he delivered an exquisite opening monologue, voice trembling, eyes filled with tears, and very, very serious. He broke down the nation's current situation, professed his love for New York City and America, and noted that the show will be changing (though he had no idea into what it would turn).

Nine years later, he is standing in front of an overwhelming crowd of people in our nation's capital, and again, he breaks down our current situation. Again, he notes that we faced hard times, though again he notes that this was not end times. He expresses hope for the spirit of the American people (through a wonderful metaphor of the Lincoln Tunnel traffic), and reminds us that the voices of reactionary pundits do not represent the moderate rational voices of the general populace.

As I stand amongst 215,000 people, I feel like this was a moment in history, albeit an unconventional one that will surely not be found in future textbooks. Satirists throughout history generally play to smaller crowds, and apart from Saturday Night Live, political comedy tends to fall on deaf ears. And yet here were two men, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, who rose from the ranks of sketch comedy and MTV talk shows to become major players in the political spectrum. Their jokes become the next day's headlines. They are the major news source for a younger generation.

And today, they play to a captive crowd of hundreds of thousands, delivering a plea for political and media rationality (which is a telling sign of the times, considering this plea came from a comedian). It was a beautiful speech, a point that was difficult to argue, and a collection of words much needed in this day and age.

After the rally's end, the next three hours was spent biding our time before we could even try to get out of Washington D.C. Everywhere we went, there were costumes, signs and other obvious signs of tourists in a place that has basically closed its doors to everyday operations.

At 6:00, we decide to brave the Metro and its sardine-like situation once more. In the wake of a hilarious and insightful gathering, the packed crowd is in very good spirits. People are talking, laughing, making room, getting along. I look around at my surroundings and realize that the rally to restore sanity...worked.

Later that night, I look up reviews of the rally online and find that the media outlets almost immediately and unanimously declared it an artistic failure (the only kind of criticism they can bestow on a well-organized and well-attended event). Feeling dispirited, I have a realization: Of course the media hated the rally. This is exactly what Jon Stewart was talking about.

So, I close my Internet browser, stop listening to the voices of a few people whom I have never met, and decide to make my own decision. Having traveled to the National Mall, attended the rally, and safely returned home, I decide that it was a success in every sense of the word. It was a success in turnout, a success in content, and a success as a noteworthy point in our cultural timeline. No matter what anybody else says, it was an event I will reflect on for years to come.

Revolution and a Sandwich - Auditions and Fundraiser

2010-10-23T19:30:00.000-07:00

I will be writing a post soon about the trials and tribulations of being a new dog owner, as this is a venture that I am one week into (and thoroughly enjoying).

However, I have a bit of shameless plugging to do for my latest theatrical venture, a script that I wrote entitled Revolution and a Sandwich. This was a script that I was commissioned to write last summer by a new(ish) group in West Philadelphia called The Shakedown Project. Bob Wuss, Kevin Buttery and Chris Sannino make up the group, and they're three amazing guys with an awesome vision of the future of theater. And they've given me the chance to join them on their second venture (after last season's Jonathan).

The production will be performing in April of next year. However, yesterday there was a bit of exciting news, in that Revolution and a Sandwich was chosen to be a featured performer at the Philadelphia NET Micro-Fest in January. This is a great chance to show off what this up-and-coming company can do (not to mention my first major work to be produced in my new city).

So, first announcement is that there are auditions coming up on November 6th and 7th. The press release for the auditions will be at the end of this blog. We especially need an awesome actress in her late teens, early 20's, so ingénues, take note.

Also, there will be a fundraiser for the show on Wednesday, October 27th. It is entitled Monster Mash!, and will feature performances by Abstract Verses, Caboder, Wild Rompit, Taco and Kevin & The Shapes. The fundraiser will take place at the Mill Creek Tavern at 4200 Chester Ave. in Philadelphia and will go from 8:00 p.m. to closing time. There is a $7 cover, and it’s 21 and over (sorry, minors...and miners). Please, pleeeease come out and help us get this show on its feet.

And now...the audition info. And I promise that my next post will have nothing to do with theatre (I say this because one of my friends recently noted that the non-theater folk don’t really have much to relate to with my writings, which didn’t use to be the case). Until next time, take care.

AUDITIONS for Revolution and a Sandwich have been announced! We are currently scouting talent for open auditions to be held Saturday and Sunday, November 6th and 7th. Anyone and everyone is welcome to come out to the Mandell Theater green room between 32nd and 33rd on Chestnut St. between 10:00 AM and 12:00 PM both dates. Those auditioning need not bring anything but an open mind and be prepared to do some cold reading.

The Shakedown Project's next big production, the show is a social satire on the internet age of communication as seen through the eyes of Claire, an average Philadelphia kid with rebellious ambitions. Revolution and a Sandwich features an original script by playwright Jeremy Gable with music by Sonni Shine.

Video shooting for the Production will begin in November and continue through January. There will be a tech workshop in the beginning of January and a “work in progress” performance of selected scenes on either January 28th or 29th at the Philadelphia NET Micro-Fest where TSP was selected as a featured performer. Full production dates are TBA for the beginning of April. Claire Lacombe and ensemble will be required to attend performances. Jan and Mortyfox will be filmed prior to production. This is a paid gig.

Auditions!
What: Open Auditions for TSP’s Revolution and a Sandwich
Where: The Mandell Theater at Drexel University, 33rd and Chestnut St., Green Room
When: November 6-7, 10 AM-12 PM

Revolution and a Sandwich: Synopsis and Character List

The show focuses on our main character Claire, a young girl growing up in present day Philadelphia who wants nothing more that to stir up a revolution, but sees that there is very little worth fighting for these days. Her day to day activities have been reduced to sitting at her computer and signing online petitions, researching past revolutionaries, and taking part in online chat rooms. Her best friends are two long-distance acquaintances who are only ever present over video chat, where Claire’s computer screen becomes essential to the set design as a subsidiary stage, exaggerated in size and facing the audience as a central fixture. Going along with TSP’s focus on interdisciplinary theater would be the presence of resident musician Sonni Shine, only identified in the play as “Claire’s I Tunes”.

The plot picks up when Claire’s father takes her to see the Fourth of July fireworks and she realizes that the first thing you need in drawing people together is a mutual incentive, regardless of what the actual cause is.

She implements the idea of a peaceful outdoor rally in which free sandwiches are provided for anyone wishing to come out and combine heads on what our next big revolution will revolve around. However, when the only people in attendance are hungry college kids and the homeless, the crowd quickly loses interest in revolution. When the police try to shut down Claire’s operation due to a nearby attempt on the president’s life (and not having a permit) the crowd turns violent and her arm is broken amidst the rioting. Upon returning home, she is discourages to find out how difficult the internet is to use with one arm. It is here in the play where she gets wind of the Goods Donation Bill, an act being passed down in Philadelphia that prohibits anyone from openly distributing any form of drink or food for free in public. Though the inadvertent cause for this new bit of legislature, Claire finds herself in the driver’s seat of one of the most popular revolutions going down…and it encourages eating.

Claire Lacombe- A rebellious Philadelphia young woman who wants nothing more than to start a revolution. Her actions are reduced to starting/signing online petitions, researching past revolutions and revolutionaries, and promoting her startup website on various chat rooms

Jan Svaboda- A Czech stop-motion animator who specializes in pointing out the problems of war, genocide and hunger through his animation.

MortyFox - An angry young man who specializes in unique inventions (such as a paint catapult, an egg yolk gun and a device that shuts down all cell phone signals over a city block)

Claire’s Dad- A loving but unemployed widower with questionable ambition who lives with Claire in Philadelphia

An ensemble will also play various roles.

A Life In The Theatre

2010-10-05T08:28:00.000-07:00

The following was hand-written on Sunday, October 3rd...

Right now, I am handwriting this note at the Blarney Stone Bar & Restaurant in Manhattan. Despite the words “Blarney Stone”, there is little bout this place that is Irish, from calling it a “bar” instead of a “pub”, to showing the Redskins/Eagles game (how about that incomplete end zone pass in the final seconds, right? Right?) to the techno remix of “All the Single Ladies” that is currently playing. While “Blarney Stone” doesn’t really describe the place, “blarney” certainly does.

My wife and I are waiting to find out just when we’re getting back to Philadelphia tonight, since the MegaBusses are currently running very late (something that we were told by a helpful commuter is a frequent occurrence). So while Brey finishes her homework (which involves rolling her eyes at Paula Vogel’s How I Learned To Drive, I will tell you about the reason we’re here.

Thanks to the generosity of Broadway’s Best Shows (www.broadwaysbestshows.com. Non-shameless plug), I won a pair of tickets to see the Broadway revival of David Mamet’s A Life in the Theatre. Mamet’s two-man comedy about the relationship between an aging veteran actor and a young rookie was written in the 1970’s, but is making its Broadway debut when it officially opens on October 12th. While Mamet’s play is pretty lightweight faire, Neil Pepe’s beautifully paced production is a meaty and entertaining joy, with help from performances by Patrick Stewart and T.R. Knight.

The script really does not amount to much more than a series of comic vignettes, with Stewart’s eccentric Robert giving philosophy and advice, often unwarranted, to Knight’s ever-patient John while backstage at a repertory theatre company. Between discussions of acting theory (and nature and existence and art and love and emotion and...), we see the two actors in practice, getting a backside-view of the theater’s productions (major kudos to Santo Loquasto’s optical illusion set and Laura Bauer’s versatile costumes). Much of the comedy comes from these glimpses, which in the innumerable mishaps and gaffes start to resemble a Spinal Tap concert.

In the wrong hands, this material would be frivolous and slight (which, along with the demanding production values, may explain why it is rarely staged). However, Pepe never lets the pace lag and makes sure that the air is teeming with the thrill of live performance. He manages to capture the feel of the theater and translate it to the audience, from the preparation at the make-up table, to the horror of having to cover for a botched set costume or set piece, to the anticipation of a post-show meal. In this production, the theater is the only reason someone like Robert can function, and the only reason why John would be able to put up with so much from him.

Stewart gives a lovely scenery-chewing turn as an actor whose gears never stop turning. There is never a moment where he doesn’t have a story, a theory, a bit of fatherly counsel that is often wrong-headed. However, his talent and anecdotes only lead to (and indeed are amplified by) his desperate social awkwardness. In Stewart’s hands, Robert is a man who has only ever known how to do one thing, and to see a lifetime of regrets pass through his smile is an amazing moment.

Knight’s role is in many ways more difficult, as he has to play the straight man to Stewart’s verbose lunacy. And yet he creates a spontaneous and rich portrayal of a young man whose talent starts to slowly surpass his patience and generosity. John’s friendship to Robert is reluctant, but it is (unlike many alliances in the theater) very loyal. Knight’s superb timing and understated poignancy shows us the simultaneous highs and lows of that relationship at all times. Here’s to hoping we’ll be seeing Knight on stage more often.

And now, as I write this, we are taking a rainy, exceptionally bumpy bus ride back to Philadelphia. So I will wrap it up with a thought that kicks around my head whenever I co-mingle with large crowds: With a ridiculous number of people walking around, what do you do to get your voice heard above the crowds? The answer can be literal or figurative, and I want it on my desk by Thursday.

The Greatest and Whitest of Ways

2010-09-30T14:18:00.000-07:00

Oh, hey! How's it going? Now that 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee has opened at the Reach Academy for Girls in Claymont, DE (playing through October 9th. Shameless plug), and now that I've finished the script for The Shakedown Project's Revolution and a Sandwich (opening in Philadelphia in April of 2011. Shamless-er pluggest), I can go back to doing what I do best: Writing about random crap on the Internet.

Since it's now officially fall, that means that it's time for the upcoming Broadway season. This is a time that fills me with glee (the actual kind, not the Lea Michele kind). However, I realize that using the upcoming Broadway season to gauge the world of theater is a foolish exercise, much like using the Billboard 100 to determine the best songs and the cineplex listings as an indication of the year's best movies.

However, as the years go on, the more my talents and convictions as a playwright grow stronger, and the less my distance to Times Square becomes, the more Broadway reveals itself as my mecca, my possibly unattainable goal. And therefore, I follow every season with a fervor only matched by a 16-year-old Idina Menzel devotee.

The season has already started with the off-Broadway transfer of Brief Encounter (one of my must-see tickets this year) opening two days ago and the Lee Hall play The Pitmen Painters opening tonight. As it has been for the past few seasons, new plays are few and far between, though I’m sure we’ll see a couple more pop up before the season’s over. Among the highlights are John Guare’s A Free Man Of Color (featuring Jeffrey Wright and Paul Dano, which makes my wife very happy) and David Lindsay-Abaire’s Good People with Frances McDormand (which makes me very happy).

Following in the 21st century tradition, most of the new musicals are adaptations, with Elf, Catch Me If You Can, Priscilla Queen Of The Desert and Women On The Verge Of A Nervous Breakdown all getting the musical treatment, not to mention Frank Wildhorn’s adaptation of Alice in Wonderland (expect a Mad Hatter power ballad). Original musicals are sparse, though we have the final Kander/Ebb collaboration The Scottsboro Boys, as well as the rather intriguing The Book of Mormon (a collaboration between the creators of Avenue Q and South Park).

And once again, the Tony’s are going to most likely be a question of big musical vs. small musical. The small musical in question is Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, a rock musical about our seventh President, which last season finished up a highly successful run at the Public Theater (and has the best Broadway tagline ever: “History just got all sexypants”). I haven’t heard one bad thing about the show yet, and it’s definitely my must-see ticket for the season.

The large musical in question is the much-anticipated (as well as much-debated and much-mocked) opening of Spider-Man: Turn Off The Dark. With songs by U2, and direction by Julie Taymor, this show has gone through marketing shifts, casting changes, and the fact that it has become the most expensive Broadway show of all time. Whether or not that actually amounts to anything come opening remains to be seen. For now, it seems most likely that its notoriety will be more famous than the show itself (I believe this is known as Carrie syndrome).

Revivals are decent this year. As far as plays go, we have Neil Pepe of the infamous Speed-the-Plow revival returning to Mamet territory with Patrick Stewart in A Life In The Theatre (little chance Stewart’s going to pull a Jeremy Piven on this one). We have Cherry Jones doing Shaw (Mrs. Warren’s Profession), Brian Bedford doing Wilde (The Importance of Being Earnest), and in a really hot ticket, Al Pacino doing Shakespeare (The Merchant of Venice). We also have James Earl Jones and Vanessa Redgrave in Driving Miss Daisy, and Matthew Warchus returning to Broadway to stage his successful London production of La Bête (with no less than Mark Rylance and David Hyde Pierce).

Musical revivals are sparse, but notable. Sutton Foster returns to the stage with Anything Goes, and in what could be the most surprising performance this year, Daniel Radcliffe will assume to role of J. Pierpont Finch in How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying. And the only notable specials this year are the eventual Broadway run of the nationally touring Beatles tribute Rain, and a brand new staging of the popular stage and television show The Pee-wee Herman Show.

As far as my very early Tony predictions go, I’d give Best Musical to Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, Best Play going to Good People (if for no other reason than for Rabbit Hole not getting it a few years ago), Best Play Revival going to La Bête or Merchant Of Venice, and Best Musical Revival probably going to Kathleen Marshall for Anything Goes.

And that’s my rundown. I’ll be seeing a few of the shows throughout the year, and I’ll report on those as well. For now, I’m going to enjoy catching A Life In The Theater this Sunday, and last season’s big Tony snub American Idiot the Sunday after. In the meantime, I’d love to hear from others who are checking out shows this season.

Long Time, No Post

2010-08-24T09:45:00.000-07:00

I have not posted something in a while. This has been due to my parents being in town (which means a lot of exploration of the historical sites of Pennsylvania) and the writing part of my brain being almost entirely devoted to the script I'm writing for The Shakedown Project's "Revolution and a Sandwich" (premiering Spring 2011. Shameless plug).

So for now, I'm going to just post this scene from Stanley Donen's "Charade". Having to stay home sick with my also-sick family, we decided to watch something with Cary Grant, and this was the consensus. Watching it again, I was reminded of this amazing scene, which goes from humorous to sexy to terrifying, all in under three minutes. Enjoy!

Original Zinn

2010-08-10T20:04:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I read Howard Zinn's fantastic book "Artists In Times Of War". You can read it one sitting. And you should. It's amazing. The following are my favorite quotes:

"...the artist transcends the immediate. Transcends the here and now. Transcends the madness of the world. Transcends terrorism and war. The artist thinks, acts, performs music, and writes outside the framework that society has created."

"The artist is taking us away from the moments of horror that we experience everyday - some days more than others - by showing us what is possible."

"...the role of the artist is to transcend conventional wisdom, to transcend the word of the establishment, to transcend the orthodoxy, to go beyond and escape what is handed down by the government or what is said in the media."

"...if there is anything an artist should be - if there is anything a citizen should be - it's honest. We must be able to look at ourselves, to look at our country honestly and clearly."

"So long as war and injustice remain, artists will find ways to make their art follow Shakespeare's plea in 'King John':

O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth!
Then with a passion would I shake the world."

And my personal favorite...

"What most of us must be involved in - whether we teach or write, make films, write films, direct films, play music, act, whatever we do - has to not only make people feel good and inspired and at one with other people around them, but also has to educate a new generation to do this very modest thing: change the world."

It's a shame I didn't discover Mr. Zinn's writing until shortly after his death. I can't wait to rip into his "People's History of the United States"...when I have the time.

A Smidgen of Politics

2010-08-07T23:07:00.000-07:00

I am doing a bit of research for my upcoming script "Revolution and a Sandwich" (it's weird for me to talk about a script in a public forum before it's completed. But since I have my first payment and a set deadline, it's definitely getting written). This research mainly involves my reading a lot of political works to educate myself a bit more.

See, I've always wanted to be a political person, but in the past I have found myself either too uneducated and/or understanding. I always tend to see the gray area that lies between both sides of most major issues (apart from some of the more basic human rights issues, such as gay marriage), and the game of mainstream American politics, as I've come to understand it, is much the same as dodgeball: you pick a side and vehemently defend it until it destroys you.

So I have been thoroughly enjoying reading passionate, reasoned debate in certain fields of the political spectrum. I just finished Howard Zinn's amazing 1968 book "Disobedience and Democracy: Nine Fallacies on Law and Order", in which I particularly enjoyed this quote:

"The state seeks power, influence, wealth, as ends in themselves. The individual seeks health, peace, creative activity, love. The state, because of its power and wealth, has no end of spokesmen for its interests. This means the citizen must understand the need to think and act on his own or in concert with fellow citizens."

Up next is Zinn's "Artists in Times of War" (2003) and Noam Chomsky's "Government in the Future" (2005). If anyone has any other suggestions, please throw them my way.

In the meantime, here are a couple inspiring videos for me. The first is from Janelle Monae, who has the best album of the year with "The ArchAndroid". You should buy it. Yes, you. I can't really imagine many people not enjoying this album. Monae juggles a variety of genres, and never drops one. It's a passionate, enjoyable album that feels like a revolution in its first listen and keeps getting better with each subsequent play. She just released the video for "Cold War", my favorite song on the album. The concept for the video is very simple, highly unexpected and emotionally honest:

The other video comes from a man by the name of Basil Marceaux.com (as he introduces himself), who recently lost the bid for the Tennessee gubernatorial primary this past week:

This is mainly for humor, because...well, it's really funny. But beyond the messy hair, slurred speech, lack of charisma and downright crazy ideas is a politician (or wannabe politician, in this case) who is campaigning for deep, sudden, radical change (and on the Republican ticket, no less). The guy does not instill the smallest amount of confidence in his own abilities, but you have to admit that his ambition is pretty damn admirable.

As for me, I don't have the mental capacity to run for office (or maybe I do, and don't run for that very reason), and I certainly cannot put together as concise and passionate a diatribe as Mr. Zinn. But hopefully my little piece of theater will be able to satisfy my thirst for some sort of social change...for now.

Foot. Food. Fool.

2010-08-04T12:13:00.000-07:00

First, let me start off today's post with a couple of shameless plugs:

After over a year of being on stage (a 24 Hour Theater festival aside) and three years since I've been in a musical, I'm going to be in a production of "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee". What role, you ask? How about Barfee?

"But Jeremy," you inquire, ever observant, "isn't he normally the fat kid?" Indeed, he is. "This is where I'm confused," you say, "because last we met, you were relatively thin. Why are you playing the fat kid?" To this I say, don't worry too much about it. However, if you're in the area, I'd love if you can come check it out. It will be in New Castle, Delaware next month. Performance dates will be posted as soon as, ya know, I know what they are.

Also, I am currently in the midst of my first paid playwriting commission. The Shakedown Project, an up-and-coming Philly theatre company specializing in multi-media theatrical presentations, has asked me to write their next project, which will be a satire about social change, communication and food entitled "Revolution and a Sandwich". It will be premiering in Spring of 2011 in Philadelphia. Again, performance dates will be posted when known.

Any more plugs? Nope? Onward...

I have an obsessive personality. If I get interested about something, I have to try to find out a lot about it. The Trivia section is my favorite place to visit on IMDb, and I'm on Wikipedia much more than I ever should be.

However, if there's one thing that I'm way too obsessed with, it's awards. I love awards shows and statistics. It's no secret that one of my party tricks is that I can name the Academy Award winner from each and every year (although a couple nights ago, I completely blanked on the winner for 1940. Old age is a-comin'. By the way, it's "Rebecca").

A couple days ago, the Theatre Alliance of Greater Philadelphia announced the nominations for their annual Barrymore Awards. I was quite excited to follow the news. Perhaps too excited. After all, I had only seen a few of the nominees. Even so, I was quite excited to see the nominations for Pig Iron's "Welcome to Yuba City", Wilma Theater's "Becky Shaw" and Mary Elizabeth Scallen's performance in Lantern Theatre's "Happy Days".

This obsession began with the 1993 Academy Awards, and has weirdly not stopped. Since then, I have come to realize that awards shows are often not an official barometer for the worth of a show/movie/performance. And yet, I get abnormally excited about making predictions and doing analysis on that which I've seen (and in the case of the Tony's, that which I have not seen but only read about). I wish I could tell you why, but I really can't.

Until I figure it out, I will hold on to my OC Weekly Theater Award for Best Solo Performance.

By the way, the Barrymore Award nominations can be found here. Enjoy...though please don't enjoy more than I do. It's just weird.

I Fight No Wars For Whales...

2010-07-25T20:52:00.000-07:00

So, apparently I have a doppelganger. About once a week, I am told that there is someone out there who looks almost exactly like me. While I never doubted this (I believe everyone has their physical equal out there), I now have undeniable proof of his existence.

There is a show on Animal Planet called "Whale Wars". This show (which I have not had the chance to see) is about the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society and their attempts to stop Japanese whalers. And the first mate on this crew is a man by the name of Peter Hammarstedt.

When I was first told about this guy, I looked up his picture. Sure enough, the resemblance is pretty uncanny. Gangly physique, brown long wavy hair, thin glasses, and small patches of facial hair on the upper lip and chin, with what has been described as "bum fluff" on the sides of the face. I knew very little about the show, but quite enjoyed looking at the photos and imagining that I was on a ship, embarking on an adventure.

After a few other people mentioned it, I looked him up again, this time reading interviews and watching videos. And I found myself really struck by this guy. Here's an excerpt from an interview in which he gives a bit of backstory:

"When I was about 14 years old, I saw a picture of a whale being pulled up the slipway of the Nisshin Maru, and I knew at that moment that I had a responsibility and an obligation to do anything that I could to prevent that from happening again. And I didn't join until I could say with one hundred percent certainty that I was willing to risk my life to save the life of a whale, to put myself and my life between that harpoon and that whale, to block that slipway, that Nisshin Maru with my body, and make sure that never happens again."

This is also taken from the Discovery Channel's website:

"In his five years with Sea Shepherd, Peter has been held hostage by Ecuadorian fisherman, physically attacked by sealers, assaulted and arrested by the Canadian Coast Guard (twice), involved in a confrontation which included the side-swiping of an illegal whaling ship, been rammed by another, and pulled up countless miles of fishing longline."

Soooo now I feel like I can no longer compare myself to this man. I look at the timelines of our respective lives...

When he was looking at pictures of whales and vowing to save their lives, I was watching Spielberg movies and writing scripts where hot girls fall in love with nerds. Later, he joined a group to promote animal conservation, and I joined a group that helps to make sure playwrights make money. And now, he spends his days off the coast of Antarctica, putting his life in danger to stop whalers. And I live my comfortable middle-class existence watching Netflix, playing video games and writing plays.

It makes me wonder if perhaps I don't have my priorities quite straightened out.

I have spent my life looking out for myself. While I have no doubts that I would put my life on the line for my family and my wife, I cannot imagine summoning up the bravery to sacrifice myself for an animal. And that's not to say that I don't support animal rights or animal rights groups. But knowing myself, I'm sure that I would not be able to make a stand of that magnitude.

I have spent my life trying to avoid conflict and confrontation. That has led to many problems, such as allowing myself to be walked upon. This was especially troublesome when I was running a theater company, as "The Office" has taught us that those who avoid confrontation should never be in a managerial position. I have never been arrested, I have never been punched (which, according to Chuck Palahniuk, means that I haven't really LIVED), and I've done very little to help my fellow man, not to mention the environment and other living creatures.

I can't even imagine the words "held hostage" or "physically attacked" ever applying to me, and I have no idea what I'd do in those situations. I have never been cool under pressure, and my instincts lean more toward "flight" than "fight". And yet out there is someone with my physical stature and awkward looks, who is willing to endure dangers that to me are unimaginable, all in the order to save some animals who cannot comprehend what he goes through for their survival. Next to him, I cannot compare.

But then again, we had different upbringings. His passion obviously led him to his direction, as mine did for me. Should I feel bad that my mind seems to work best in the arts, and not toward something more immediately productive to humanity (as I highly doubt that my writing and acting have necessarily made anyone a better person)?

And to be fair, I only know a little bit about this guy. And I was recently informed by one of my Facebook friends that Mr. Hammarstedt is, and I quote, "such a friggin douche", and that he "doesn't even deserve mention in the same sentence as the great Jeremy Gable." I have a great deal of evidence that he is a better person than me, but does that go out the window because of his douchiness and my apparent lack thereof? What makes someone great or not great? Is it our actions or our personalities? Which should be more valued: the douchy humanitarian, or the self-centered gentleman?

These are the questions that haunt my brain as I write this at midnight. Perhaps actually sitting down and watching Whale Wars will answer this question for me.

No Dwarfs For Oil

2010-07-21T12:57:00.000-07:00

Was BP simply trying to kill mosquito larvae? The Seven Dwarfs demonstrate...

Movie of Dreams

2010-07-19T13:13:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, I went to see a movie that reminded me why I started going to the movies in the first place. Christopher Nolan's "Inception" is a magnificent work, and my favorite film of the year so far.

The reviews are in, and what strikes me upon reading them is that critics seem to either love or hate the movie for the exact same reasons. It seems that the dream world (which is complicated but linear) is either seen as a startlingly original platform for a thriller, or a missed opportunity for truly astounding cinema. I am part of that former camp, but before I give you my take on the film, I would like to let you know my process with which I approached it.

I have been trying a bit of an artistic experiment this year. In the past, when I hear about a movie I would like to see, I go nuts on the research: Watching trailers, reading reviews, checking the Internet Movie Database, etc. I believe this is called being a geek, and it is a lifestyle that I have whole-heartedly embraced.

The problem with this is that when I go to see the movie, I find myself more or less going through the motions, as I connect the dots between the clips I've already seen. I know that Commissioner Gordon didn't REALLY die because the clip of him in the trailer hasn't happened yet. I know that the scariest part is yet to come because the boyfriend hasn't been thrown into the camera. The third "Matrix" film was particularly disappointing since the trailer spent its three minutes showing me every major plot point in its synopsis.

While watching "Up" for the second time last year, I realized that I would have enjoyed the movie so much more had I been allowed to discover more of that movie's wonderful developments. So from that point forward, I decided that if I already know that I'm going to see a particular movie, I avoid all promotional materials and pre-release buzz. With my constant presence on Facebook, Twitter and various film-related websites, I knew it wasn't going to be easy. But for the sake of maximizing my own entertainment, I'm giving it a shot.

The previous two movies I tried this out on were Tim Burton's "Alice in Wonderland" (which somewhat disappointed) and "Toy Story 3" (which was a rousing success). However, with both of those films, I had a pretty good idea of what I was in for. Before going into "Inception", I knew only the following things about the film:

1). Leonard DiCaprio, Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Marion Cotillard starred.
2). Christopher Nolan wrote and directed.
3). At one point, DiCaprio holds a gun.
4). The font on the poster was red.
5). Something about dreams, maybe?

Not knowing what I was in for, I found myself plunged head-first into a twisting noir thriller. Knowing Nolan's previous work, that was hardly surprising. Whether his movies be about winged vigilantes, fame-crazed magicians, or anterograde amnesiacs, Nolan tells a particular type of story, often resulting in the best thrillers in modern American cinema.

What I was not ready for was a tale that would outdo all of his previous efforts. Like Spike Jonze and Michel Gondry, Nolan has one of the best imaginations in Hollywood. But whereas Jonze and Gondry's films have a child-like sensibility, Nolan's stories feel like a complex math equation that seem to go haywire before the proof fully and completely checks out. And "Inception" in particular feels like a clock that is made up of a number of unique and unconventional materials which, when fully assembled, turns out to tell perfect time.

Since I was able to go in relatively blind, that is the only way that I can recommend seeing the film, if possible. Therefore, I don't want to reveal too much about the plot. However, I do want to point out a few of the things that make this the best film of the year:

* Multi-tasking. I've been hearing arguments over whether the plot was too hard to follow, both agreeing and disagreeing. To me, it seems that Nolan has made a truly modern film. For those of us who can quickly and efficiently multi-task on the Internet, the film can be followed. At one point, the audience is in a dream-within-a-dream-within-a-dream-within-a-dream (tell me any movie that's gone down that road before), with quick cuts and plot developments happening not only in four separate locations, but essentially in four separate dimensions. And yet, we are able to follow the entire journey, seeing all the steps laid out, and knowing exactly what's at stake and what needs to be achieved. This is no small feat, and it's saying something that Nolan trusts his audience to keep up. For those of us who have had multiple tabs open in our Internet browser as we pay bills, check our e-mail, chat with a friend and watch a YouTube video, we were able to follow along.

* The cast. Leonard DiCaprio follows up his stellar "Shutter Island" performance with another man driven forward by the pain in his past. He is that rare actor who, despite nearly 20 years in the business, continues to improve with almost every project. Joseph Gordon Levitt, with his young Bogart looks and great physicality, is finally able to juggle his subversive sensibilities with a blockbuster project. Ellen Page and Marion Cotillard prove why they are two of the most interesting and beautiful actors to emerge in the last few years. And an assortment of Nolan alumni pop up, giving top notch performances throughout.

* The visuals. If you've seen any of the trailers, you've seen most of the amazing sights Nolan's mind have to offer, including a runaway freight train, a city folding upon itself and a mass explosion of street objects. However, the film is brimming with visuals that have not previously been seen in any other film. Nolan takes all of the conventions of your typical Hollywood thriller and subverts it through arresting imagery. This includes a stairway chase with a unique twist, an astounding fist-fight that perhaps only Fred Astaire could have previously achieved, and (my personal favorite) a slowly-falling van used as a ticking clock.

* The world. One of the main criticisms I've read about "Inception" is that its dream world does not operate the way that dream worlds often do. Apparently dreams are never logical or linear, and instead are chaotic and constantly shifting. As someone who has notoriously boring dreams, I can tell you that this is not necessarily true. Yes, this world has rules and timelines. Because that's the story that Nolan is telling. He is not making "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind". The movie's harshest critics feel that this is a dream movie that's been dumbed down, rather than a thriller with higher aspirations. It's almost as if they are upset that Nolan filmed his dreams, instead of their own. As for me, I like Nolan's dreams better than my own, and the world that he has created here is one of the best in recent cinematic memory. I see what movie Nolan is making here, and he never betrays the world that he's created.

* The last shot. Without spoiling anything, it was perfect. The kind of moment that celebrates ambiguity and elicits an audible response from the audience. (And at the midnight screening I went to, that response was particularly loud)

In short, "Inception" deserves to be seen, preferably on the big screen, and with as many people as you can bring with you. It pushes imagination, intensity and complex storytelling to heights that I haven't seen from a summer blockbuster in many years. It rises above all other entertainment this year and - the true test for any motion picture - I can't wait to see it again.

Raindrops ... Not On Roses

2010-07-14T14:48:00.001-07:00

A rain falls over Philadelphia. Rain doesn't fall in Philadelphia the way it did in Idaho. Idaho would have a lot of kinda-rains. Pseudo-rains. Yes-it's-raining-but-don't-worry-too-much-about-it kind of rains. Not Philadelphia. The rain here shifts from non-existent to "The Perfect Storm" with the flip of a switch. While I shouldn't like it, I actually really enjoy the idea of getting quite literally caught in the rain. Now if only I liked pina coladas.

The rain seems weirdly appropriate considering that this has been one of those weeks in which the fates remind me that they frankly just don't like me. Financial troubles, cancelled vacations, disappointed friends and the hot breath of student loan deadlines breathing down my wife's neck all had to converge in the last 72 hours. Because that's of course how the universe works.

However, there are still double rainbows. First off, the double rainbow video. Secondly, a meeting that I am having tonight with the Artistic Director of a Philadelphia theatre company, for whom I will be writing a script. For a writer, a commission (even one that will not pay much) is something desired and rarely achieved, so I'm excited at this new opportunity. Given the nature of the piece, it is also allowing me to listen to my favorite punk bands and shop my local anarchist bookstore.

Also, last night I watched "Dogville" for the first time. There's nothing quite like a Lars Von Trier movie to make you put things into perspective. This is my fourth Von Trier experience (after "Dancer in the Dark", "Breaking the Waves" and ... *SIGH* ... "Antichrist"), and I enjoyed it more than I expected to. While I couldn't emotionally connect to anyone on the screen, I don't think I was supposed to, and even if I didn't care what happened to them, I was at least intrigued to see where they would go. Almost like a fascinating ant farm in which I was able to study these creatures.

The entire film, for those who haven't seen it, takes place on a stage, where houses are marked off with chalk lines and labels. Props and set pieces are minimal, and the whole thing felt like a really horrifying version of "Our Town" (basically "Our Misogynistic Paranoid Town"). But what surprised was how well Von Trier was at staging. I never considered that the man who invented the Dogme movement would be able to be quite so lyrical with his placement and movement of bodies and lights on stage, but I was actually quite impressed.

For a while, I've wondered what it would be like if film directors made the transition to stage. Some of them have been successful (Robert Altman) and others not so much (William Friedkin), but I'd love to see more directors give it a try. I think the most natural choice right now of working directors is Michel Gondry, who often employs real-life tricks where others would use CGI or fancy editing. His videos and movies are a marvel to behold, and any evidence of what his stage work would look like can be seen in his music video for Bjork's "Bachelorette". We need more Mike Nichols' and Baz Luhrmann's. Who will be our next?

Oh, and on one final note, don't buy anything from Priceline. Ever. Seriously. If you ever have to take anything back, they will make you regret it. And frankly, with online ticket purchasing and reservations cheaper and easier to use than ever, Priceline isn't worth it, and their whole image of fighting for the customer is false. You can get the same prices elsewhere, and with companies that actually ahve the interest of its customers in mind. They are now the proud and happy owners of $500 that I gave them, because they refuse to refund money for cancelled reservations. Funny how insistent a company with a market valuation of $8.8 billion would be in keeping my $500, but I guess that's the way this "customer-friendly" business works.

As for me, I'm reserving directly with the hotels, and taking road trips and staying with friends when available. And if any of my friends find themselves in Philadelphia and don't want to deal with companies that will likely rob you, you're welcome to stay with us anytime. We little people have to stick together.

Diversity Park

2010-07-10T18:25:00.001-07:00

I'm handwriting this post while at Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia. (Note: Obviously, I typed this out later. Don't look at me so confused) This is a small-but-gorgeous park in the middle of the city that is not like any place I've ever known. Amidst the businesses, churches and restaurants that populate center City, there sits one city block of statues, fountains, benches and trees that seems to attract every type of person imaginable.

Guitar-playing hippies, dog walkers, restless teenagers, homeless folk, artists, horny old men, gorgeous ponytailed joggers, shirtless men practicing martial arts, street performers, families, the list goes on. They all converge here. As I write this, there are old couples dancing together as accordion music plays, and a beautiful woman in a sundress sitting atop a lion statue, fanning herself (what's her story?). In the past, we've found such oddities as bluegrass bands, 9/11 conspiracy conventions and foursquare tournaments (which neither of us sadly joined). Races and ages across the spectrum are constantly being represented here.

This is not something that I've experienced living in Idaho or California. While northern Idaho has a number of wonderful attributes (snow-capped mountains, safe and quiet atmosphere, lovely autumns), ethnic diversity is not one of them. And the parks of California never seemed to attract the kind of diverse crowd that you will see at, say, their coffee shops (and some of them charge money for you to even enter. I've never understood that). But here in a city with a great deal of heterogeneity and a thriving arts scene, a park in the middle of the city seems to be a magnet not just for kids and fitness fanatics, but for apparently anyone with a love of trees.

I think this is what I enjoy most about living here. For the first time, I feel like I'm not just another white face in the white crowd. I'm feeling the "melting pot" term that's been used so many times to describe this country (see: "Schoolhouse Rock"). I feel like I'm able to be me without apology. I can be geeky, socially awkward, scared, confused, obsessive, whimsical, and everything else that I consider to be the essence of me, and not have to worry about not fitting in. There's something so liberating and relaxing about knowing that no one cares.

And I just felt a raindrop, so I'm going to end it here by telling everyone to rent Kiyoshi Kurosawa's fantastic film "Tokyo Sonata" for a beautiful and heartbreaking piece of Japanese melodrama.

And now, I'm off to watch the old couples dancing.

Alpha Male Purchasing

2010-07-09T20:12:00.000-07:00

Just to warn you, tonight's post is most likely not going to follow some sort of narrative thread. I don't have one specific topic to get out. Just a number of thoughts. First and foremost...

In a week, I'm going to have a new television set. What was simply a purchase out of necessity has actually become really exciting for me. I've come to realize that in my almost thirty years of existence, I have never actually owned a brand new television.

Every set I have ever owned comes from the now-defunct design of a large box with a convex screen and a simple "TV-out" connector in the back. This new television comes with a number of terms that I've only jealously experienced at friends' houses: HDTV, flat-screen, wi-fi adapter, etc. It's telling of not only the times we live in but also the lifestyle I lead that what is considered nowadays to be a low-end model of television will be one of the most advanced pieces of technology in our house.

This comes right on the heels of me finally upgrading my computer's graphics and memory cards. These purchases, though rather inexpensive, have awakened the tech geek inside of me. The guy that drools with each Apple product release. The guy who can barely contain his excitement every time the new releases from E3 come around. The guy who is overjoyed that he can finally play "Dead Space" and "Mirror's Edge" with no lag in his five-year-old computer.

But more than the idea of progressing technology (the idea of Netflix Watch Instantly on my television is currently blowing my tiny mind), I feel like this is some sort of rite of passage for the adult American male. All of my television sets have been hand-me-downs. Now, I have purchased the family set, which is currently traveling across the country to our door. My wife and I will watch some of the most important movies of our lives on this. If we decide to have children, they will most likely watch this set.

I considered deleting that last sentence due to its weird precociousness, but I've been feeling the pangs of adulthood a lot lately. Among this has been the feeling of responsibility, the idea that I now have something to protect and watch over. The things that I would have normally let go by the wayside - appliances breaking down, leaks in the ceiling, mice in the apartment - are now issues that I have no choice but to tackle. So there's a feeling very alpha male about the idea of a new television set, the upside to a level of maturity I frankly don't want to have. I'm not used to this feeling, but perhaps I'll have to get used to it.

Speaking of American ideals, Philadelphia is an awesome place to be for the Fourth of July. We attended two nights of fireworks, the first taking place at Penn's Landing on the Delaware River. There's something wonderful about celebrating Independence Day and then walking by the very hall where the Declaration of Independence was signed.

The second night took place on Benjamin Franklin Parkway with a huge street fair, free concert (thumbs up for The Roots, thumbs down for The Goo Goo Dolls) and fireworks display. The festivities were hot, crowded and perhaps anticlimactic if I stopped to think about it. But I'm realizing that there are times in my life where I really shouldn't stop to think about it. Instead, I should perhaps just enjoy the exploding colors in the sky.

Afterward was quite a sight. If it wasn't quite what post-apocalyptic times would be like, it was Hollywood's low-budget depiction of post-apocalyptic times. News vans and police cars struggling to break through the crowds, garbage everywhere, the occasional explosive going off (in actuality just illegal fireworks) and crowds mindlessly shuffling toward one destination (being the City Hall subway station). It was an oddly chaotic coda to a well-organized, patriotically-minded weekend, and I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. But I was sure as hell excited to be in the middle of it.

Oh, and because I started this blog after my essential movie-watching, here is my ranking of the only movies worth watching this summer:

* Toy Story 3 - Best movie of the year so far, and best "Toy Story" in the series.
* Iron Man 2 - A worthy sequel. No better, no worse.
* Eclipse - As a horror romance drama, it's absurd and ridiculous. But if you take it as a teen comedy, it's actually quite hilarious.

Next week, there shall be a full report on "Inception". Definitely more to come on that one.

My Influence On Hollywood

2010-07-02T13:35:00.001-07:00

Lately, I have become keenly aware of just how much my generation continues to influence the trends in pop culture. I figured since I am nearing the edge that is turning 30, my impact in the cultural sphere would be reduced for buying a ticket for the latest blockbuster.

However, it seems that the influence of my generation is as strong as it ever was, the evidence of this having been shown to me several times over the past couple weeks.

This started when I went to the midnight screening of "Toy Story 3". The theater was filled not with the teens and tweens to be found at, oh I don't know, the midnight screening of "Eclipse", but were all college kids and later, twentysomethings all around. Talking to my wife, I realized that it was because these were the movies that we grew up with.

I was 13 years old when the first "Toy Story" came out, in high school with the second film. So it makes sense that those of us with fond memories of the films from our youth would flock to the final chapter in the series. The movie (which is the best in the series) seems to be targeted directly at us, as it addressed the idea of being too old, losing our sense of play, and the passing down of what made us happy in our youth. It was a beautiful piece of work, especially at a time in my life when I am making a pretty uneasy transition into full-fledged adulthood.

Also recently was E3, the media event where every video game company comes forth to reveal what's going to blow the minds and pants of nerds for the next year. Among the long-awaited followups (new Zelda and Portal), intriguing original games (expect to be hearing about "Rage" in the months to come) and awesome technology (Nintendo D-S in 3-D. Without glasses), it seemed there were a large number of high-profile 2-D side scrollers scheduled for release.

These games include a new Sonic the Hedgehog (titled "Sonic 4", a throwback to the days of the Sega Genesis), Donkey Kong Country, Castlevania and Kirby game. Seeing footage of these games brought back memories of my Genesis days, back when grade school lines were drawn based on what game console you owned. With graphics, gameplay and story becoming more complex in the world of gaming, there seems to be a demand for the simpler days of game playing, when characters had the simple goal of getting from the left side of the screen to the right.

But if there no better example of my youth coming back into the mainstream right now than Betty White. In the past year, she has inexplicably become one of our hottest celebrities. From the Super Bowl commercial to the Facebook petition to the Saturday Night Live episode, she is now on a sitcom and starring in an upcoming movie. Being introduced for her interview on "The Daily Show", the audience went nuts, wildly applauding the woman who for them will forever be Rose Nylund.

Also in this episode, Jon Stewart, talking about the bee-like sound of the vuvuzelas, made a "My Girl" joke. This same audience gave a "too soon" groan, almost 20 years after the movie's release. This was another telltale sign of our generation's influence on the cultural aesthetic. For those of us traumatized by seeing Macauley Culkin killed by bees were our age was in the single digits, I guess "My Girl" is not to be mocked.

I'm not quite sure what to make of this cultural power that I currently have. I feel like I should put it to good use. Expose today's youth to the truly fantastic entertaiment I grew up with. Have them listen to Pavement while watching "The Fugitive". But instead, I'm sure that I and everyone else my age will just use our power to bring back the Ninja Turtles and Jurassic Park.

A Reading, A Revolution (Not Related)

2010-06-28T07:44:00.000-07:00

So, first off, I return to what the youth of today tell me is called the "blogosphere". If you followed my previous blog from back in the mid-aughts, hopefully this one will be a smidge better. Perhaps with less half-formed political diatribes and more musings on the aging process, living on the East Coast and attempting to have some semblance of a career in playwriting (start taking bets on which TV show I end up writing for. I'm betting "Two and a Half Men").

So, anyway...

First things first, I'm starting off this blog with a shameless plug. The reading of my latest play "Bad Monster" is tonight, starring Samantha Kristina Clarke, Kittson O'Neill, Bob Stineman and Julie Grega. If you're in Philadelphia tonight, head over to Time Restaurant on 13th & Sansom at 7:30 p.m. The details are here.

Also, I'll be meeting this week with the Artistic Director of an up-and-coming theater company in town for a possible collaboration. It's an exciting prospect that would really get me thinking outside the box, which is pretty much what I look to do with my writing. More on that as details develop.

In the meantime, I watched the film "Lenny" last night for the first time. The film itself is highly flawed. Edited to the point of incomprehensibility (I just had to double check that "incomprehensibility" is a real word. It is. Win!), it told me very little about Lenny Bruce as a person, though the club scenes told me worlds about him as a performer. It was definitely one of Dustin Hoffman's best performances, if not his best, and made me want to hear more of Bruce's work, with which I am sadly uneducated.

While watching the film, a thought occurred to me (or more accurately, re-occurred, as I've been thinking about it a lot lately): Where are our entertainment revolutionaries nowadays? We have Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, who take our current times and break them down into digestible, highly absurd pieces (although I'm sure they both rejected the idea of being revolutionaries). We also have documentarians such as Morgan Spurlock and Michael Moore, who tend to fancy themselves as the revolutionaries of our time. However, there is a lack of danger to their work. There isn't a feeling that at any moment, these people would be persecuted for their work.

One group I can think of as a likely candidate are the flash mob groups, like Improv Everywhere. But for the most part, the best flash mobs are a celebration of randomness, as opposed to a satirical platform. The other group I can think of are the street artists as noted in the awesome documentary "Exit Through the Gift Shop". But that movie also noted that street artistry is losing its danger and power, thanks to its mainstream treatment by "artists" like Mr. Brainwash. What was once anarchic now just feels recycled.

So I guess we need a new entertainment revolution. I'm certainly not saying that I have what it takes to lead it (at least not yet). But perhaps there are other takers?