God of Carnage

So, it's been a while. I had an awesome weekend in NYC. I went to see God of Carnage on Broadway. It was a Christmas present from my boyfriend. After I read the play and he asked me how I felt about it I said, "I need to see it." Usually I can read a play and from that I can get a good impression as to whether I'd like it or not. I couldn't tell with this one. So, Matt is awesome and remembered I said that and gave me one of the nicest Christmas presents a theatre enthusiast could want.

I found myself at first annoyed by Christine Lahti and it took me a while to discover that I wasn't annoyed with the actress, I was annoyed by her character. She was closed-off, a little one-note and very reserved. Not only until she (Spoiler alert) vomited all over the living room did she (not Lahti but her character) open up. She slowly peeled away all of the layers until we got to see the truth behind this troubled, bottled-up little woman. This can easily go for the entire cast but it especially goes to Lahti, who's performance I grew to be very charmed by.

The play was like an onion, slowly peeling away the layers of gentility, well-bred behavior, class, status, until all that was left was an animalistic, shattered mess of what we really are. As Michael's character puts it: "Neanderthals". It was true ugly humanity exposed under the charming track-lighting of upper class intelligentsia. I must say after seeing it, I respected the play much more and really enjoyed myself.

One thing I'd like to add that's a little unrelated: after the show my boyfriend and I went to look for a place to go have a drink before dinner. On total accident, we came across Don't Tell Mama's, a piano bar that I used to sing at frequently back when I used to sing. We came in, sat down, had some drinks and a fantastic time listening to great music and joking with the regulars. What a nice walk down memory lane that was and a way to make new memories as well. I recommend the place. The people are nice and the drinks are really well-priced at happy hour.

Rabbit Hole

The Arden Theatre recently closed this gem of a production by David Lindsay-Abaire. Ever since I read this play I loved it. Seeing this production only furthered my opinion that it's one of the best plays out there right now. If you haven't read it, please do so. If you haven't seen it and you can, please see it.

That is all.

Orpheus X

This play is running at The Duke until December 20th. It's frightening, jarring and the music is gorgeously moving. There are many things I could say about this but I want to leave most of it alone to discuss one thing that I am very grateful to Robert Woodruff and Rinde Eckert for and that is the casting of Persephone.

Persephone, the Queen of the Dead, is played by a man. This same actor also plays the agent of Orpheus, moving swiftly and subtly between the two roles. No costume changes, no great physical adjustments. Only a refreshing and honest subtlety that is needed and appreciated. So, my hat is off to the creators of this show and all of the actors involved, and John Kelly's brave and moving performance.

I've been tired for years of men playing women and having it always be something to laugh at. I understand when it's supposed to be funny, like the players in "A Midsummer Night's Dream", but let's welcome an age in theatre where men can play women with respect and subtlety and be taken seriously. Sarah Bernhardt can play a man in Hamlet, we don't find ourselves laughing at Mary Martin as Peter Pan. Bottom line, there's a place for comedy in gender-switching, but it's so nice once in a while to see it done well in the lesser-known reversal of man playing woman.

http://www.tfana.org/orpheus_x.html

Four Kinds of Plays

I had a thought (not exactly a revelation, but close) over the weekend when I went to see Sarah Ruhl's "Dead Man's Cell Phone". I think that there are four different kinds of plays. There are the plays that are full of very profound one-liners, strong messages and intellectualism but no overall story, guts or tangibility. Then there are those that have the exact opposite. Lots of humanity, back and forth simple banter, strong story but no strong message or focus. That's not to say there is a lack of theme, because there's a theme to everything unless your staring at a cardboard box. And even then...a warehouse comes to mind, and labor, and work. I'm on a tangent. Anyway, then, of course, there are those that have the worst of both worlds and the best.

I'm not saying one way or another about Ms. Ruhl's play; since I'm a playwright and not a reviewer, I'm going to restrain from critiquing it. I thought she had some very cool things to say, however, and this made me consider the idea of four different kinds of plays. Her play is very ethereal, like her characters and I'm sure that was partly the point of it. I'm not going to say too much about the show for those who haven't read or seen it, but I think it can be classified into these categories, as anything else.

This is a bit of an ethereal blog post, now that I think about it. The point is, you can either have All Ideas, No Guts or All Guts, No Ideas. Either way, this is bad. I think in a good play, there must be a marriage between Ideas and Guts. Without these things, you're either better off watching a wrestling match or hearing a debate at a local college. Both possibly good events, (though I've never gone to a wrestling match) neither can be classified as plays. But what a show that would be! A college debate/wrestling match. Now I would pay to see that.

What Marsha Norman said

So I just wanted to put this out there for people to read and think about and hopefully discuss. I know this is from last month but I still think it should be up here, as it's an incredibly important topic right now for all artists, not only women and not only writers.

This statement particularly hits me hard:

"A theatre that is missing the work of women is missing half the story, half the canon, half the life of our time. That is the situation we have now." -Norman, TCG

To put it simply, I agree with her. To me, it's all about breaking out of the funk we're in when it comes to women's writing and expectations. To paraphrase what she said, people expect that women's plays are going to be soft. Well, the fact that some people really feel that way is unfortunately true and really, really sad. And what if some plays are soft? And some men's plays are hard? And vice versa!

As a female playwright I've only recently pulled myself out of this state of writing women with male voices. It's a realization I came to pretty quickly one day while talking to a very intelligent friend and dramaturge. I have a few ideas as to why I started out writing this way, but to put it simply, I think it's partially environmental. I grew up exposed to few strong female role models. I used to dress up as Indiana Jones, never as Snow White or Cinderella. I guess it's really to each her own, but the point I'm trying to make is that I think for women like me, it starts with finding your feminine voice. Be it tough, clever, fun, sensual and (god forbid!) soft, gentle and maternal, it doesn't matter. It could vary from character to character, play to play, and that's okay. What does matter is finding it, trusting it and going with it. Don't get intimidated and think everyone needs to talk like a Mamet character in order to be producible.

Not that there's anything wrong with Mamet, he's pretty amazing. But I'm not him. And you probably aren't either.

What do you think?

Why Iron Cannonball?

In Anton Chekhov's The Seagull, the writer Trigorin goes on this crazy rant about how much he not only loves writing, but how obsessed he is with it. I was assisting with the sound board for the The Seagull when I was eighteen and about to go off to acting school. That's when I heard this monologue for the first time and was very touched by it. I didn't really listen until I was in my junior year in college. Tens of thousands of dollars later I realized that I wanted to be a writer. More specifically, a playwright.

Trigorin talks about how words that come to mind throughout the day cast around in his head like an iron cannonball. And so, that's where I got the title for this blog. I should have listened to Chekhov then, but I'm also glad that I didn't. I think actors turned playwrights have an advantage because they know what it's like to think like an actor and listen like an actor. They think and are summoned with their guts and instincts. I am always reminding myself to think like an actor when I'm writing or my characters turn into little idea-filled talking heads.

I love plays and playwriting so that's why I'm dedicating this blog to talking about it. I don't really think I'm in the position to give reviews of plays that I see, so instead I'll come up with three constructive words to describe the production. While I can't bring myself to writing reviews, I also can't say nothing. I way too opinionated for that.

Also, if people see theatre and want to talk about it, or have thoughts on playwriting, acting or theatre in general, I really want to hear about it, so please post to your heart's content.

Oh and for anyone who is curious, Carol Rocamora should be credited here for translating The Seagull that mentions the Iron Cannonball. Tom Stoppard also does a fantastic version of it because well, he's Tom Stoppard. I mean, come on.