At Death's Door

I got home last night after an exhausting/exhilarating rehearsal, eager to plop into bed and listened to our phone messages; there was one informing me that At Death's Door is a finalist in the Playwrights First competition at the Players Club in NYC! I've entered before, but I don't think I've made it to finalist before. As you can guess I'm very happy about this. ADD is one of those plays that I started a looonnnggg time ago and then set aside after writing myself into a corner after one act. Some time later (years for sure, maybe three or four) I read over it again while looking for something to jump start a writing slump and figured what the hell, so I started in on it again. It was read in process in all three of the groups I'm involved with and had a full reading last May in Dobbs Ferry.

I had completely forgotten about even entering this competition, but it was a welcome shot in the arm. I wasn't sure if the play would be too weird for them or not, but I sent it in anyway . . . like in sales: you don't spend someone's money for them. In this case, you don't want to make their decision for them and if I hadn't submitted it then there's no chance at all. The thing that makes it weird is a disappearing dying mother. It's never really explained what happens to her, but I think the journey is kind of fun. I had real problems figuring out what to do after the first act, when they find the mother gone from her bedroom. In the original version, she walked into the room and out the door. In this version she just disappears. Try explaining that one. At any rate, I went through a lot of writing and rewriting to find that second act, but it's there. The reading last year wasn't as successful as I would have hoped, but I did some trimming after that and I think that helped.

When I told my daughter about it this morning she said 'You should have sent them Thirty Odd Years'; which of course is a one act. I told her though that the main character in ADD, Othel Ray, is sort of the same character in some ways as Uncle Lee: the irrascible old coot. Of course, I hate to think of these guys as irrascible old coots because guess who I write them for!

Back to Old Hickory. Last night's rehearsal was entirely the last part of the play and we made immense progress. It was good to finally work on the exchanges between the Ex and Jimmy because that has been the three hundred pound gorilla in the room as far as I'm concerned. Acting a scene with two characters, one actor, is scary; but Wallace is helping a lot. We really focused on the last moments of the play too, complete with some changes that I didn't agree with at first, but being the team player that I am, I'm willing to let go of preconceptions and do what's best for the piece. I trust Wallace or I wouldn't be doing this in the first place.

Getting pumped

So I've been running Old Hickory every day. Not just for lines, but for as much of the blocking as I can remember. Timing-wise it's running between 35-41 minutes. I need to get it closer to a consistent 40 but that isn't my primary worry right now. I want all the characters to really sing and jump off the page. I think I'll get there, with Wallace's help.

Bette's advice regarding one of the most important lines in the play has paid off. The line began as a generic 'stupid' line delivered by the ex wife to our hero; then I made it a bit more caustic with a dig at his manhood . . . then, as we were talking about it, Bette mentioned that maybe insulting his family would be more to the point; that keyed into the grandmother, who he earlier said he thought highly of, so that's the direction I'm going in . . . she insults his beloved grandmother and that is definitely the last straw. I think it'll work if I can come up with the right line. I'm finessing it now and I want it to be such an insult that it leads inevitably to what it leads to.

I also went back to work on The Red Hand of O'Neill today. I went at it with a view for making it tighter; more of an emotional release than a recitation of James O'Neill's history. I think I am beginning to accomplish that. If the French accepts it for this summer, then Fran Callahan will do it and it should sail. I'm not saying I'll never do it myself, but for the time being I have enough on my plate and he was so enthusiastic for the piece I feel like he'll do it justice . . . and then some. That would really be nice . . . for him and for me. I like his work and feel like his initial connection to it, when he read it cold, was exceptional. Not sure when we find out about the plays accepted into the festival . . . but like everything else . . . it's hurry up and wait. Should know in the next couple of weeks about the NYFA grant and some competitions as well . . . heaven forbid anyone should make a quick decision about anything!!!!!

Three hours

We rehearsed for three hours Thurs. night. It was exhausting work, but it's the kind of exhausting that leaves a smile on your face. We really worked the Catfish scene, which was fun. Now the most challenging and important part of the play, the big confrontation. It feels really good; and as I said to Wallace, via email; it is the most fulfilling thing I have ever done in theater.

Sorry for brevity, but we're going into the city today and I didn't want to wait another day before posting something. More tomorrow, promise.

Do you know where the knives are?

The call came to me in West Virginia while I was visiting my parents: 'Do you know where the knives are?'

I had to admit it; they were with me, there in Charleston. I had taken our three best knives with me, along with the whet stone; as they are the primary props in Old Hickory, and I thought I might work up nerve to suggest that I might do it for my folks. Anyway, my wife was looking to cut something up for dinner, and couldn't find any of our really good knives. I'm not sure what she ended up doing, but I did end up performing OH for my folks.

I was nervous about it. After all, one of the key elements of the play is based on their having taken a dog in to save it from being put to sleep for no good reason. I thought it might be a tad close to home . . . at any rate, I did the piece on the last night there, in their living room, with Laurette on book, just in case. I did edit a bit on the fly, cutting the bit about being seduced while driving . . . and a later line as well; I know I know we're all grown ups, but still . . . talking about blow jobs, no matter how indirectly seemed a tad uncomfortable in my parents' living room. (a little side bar: it also drove my daughter crazy as she later told me she had drifted for just a moment right when I did the cut, and it took her a while to find her place again! She thought she had really spaced out!)

I guess I needn't have worried: my parents both loved the piece. They hadn't known what to expect, but it sure took them by surprise. I just focused on the text. I put a little table out with the knives, and started and ended with the sharpening, but other than that I mostly sat and acted the piece that way. It was a good rehearsal and it made me feel . .. I don't know how to describe it . . . it made me feel fulfilled (for want of better term) to share this with them. To bring a little light into their world. I hope that doesn't sound pretentious, but they mostly sit at home and watch TV. It was nice to take them to another world for forty minutes or so. Plus, they hadn't seen me act in almost twenty years! They saw everything I ever did in Charleston, of course. And they even came up to Nyack for The Trip to Bountiful, in 1993. That was pretty special: they were gonna leave at intermission after I was done, because they had a long ride home that night, but they were so engrossed in the story that they had to stay to the end; even though I was no longer in the play. That's about the best feedback a play could get, and I shared as much with Ellen Burstyn.

At any rate, it was another feather in the cap of Old Hickory, and if nothing else happens with the piece, I'll always carry that with me. Oh, and by the way, they weren't at all put off by the dog story. Of course, they knew where it came from, but since they were the heroes of that story in real life, they were fine with it.

I had wanted to play my radio broadcast for them, but for some reason it would't play on my daughter's laptop. I don't understand it since I had it on a disc and it played just fine when I tried it at home, but down there her computer wouldn't play it because there was no internet service. Alas. Well I didn't need web access to do Old Hickory!

So today is April 1, that means four weeks from today is the production! I got an email yesterday about tech times, and it looks to be Wed. night the 28th, time to be determined, hopefully as early as possible. I also got the invite to the meet and greet/tour the theatre party on the 18th. I ran the lines yesterday morning and it went just fine; and did it again with Bette on book last night and again, no problems. I'm beginning to feel ready, but there's a way to go yet; of course that's where Wallace comes in. We have a rehearsal at 7 tonight. For the next four weeks I want to focus on intentions and beats and the like . . . transitions . . . development of the other four characters, not just our humble narrator . . . it's a big job . . . but it's fun . . . and it's why I'm here in the first place.

Oh, and as far as the knives go? That is gonna be one sharp son-of-a-bitch when this is whole thing is done!

Away for a few days

Visiting the folks for a few days so I figured I should bring the blog up-to-date, before I go. We had a good rehearsal last night. We're all the way up to the Catfish scene, which is good because the multiple personality aspect of this is the most daunting. But it is going well. We're finding the beats and figuring things out . . . it never ceases to amaze me, when looking at this piece through actor's eyes, what is there that I didn't even realize was there. Or what can be brought out with characterization that is suggested in the script. I know this sounds elementary, and maybe it's because I haven't worked with this kind of focus for so long, but it's like chipping mud off a rock and finding a diamond inside! Very rewarding to say the least.

Wallace continues to work his magic. He makes suggestions, and doesn't try to sell them too hard . . . he asked me after if I felt 'bullied'. Please! Yes he's insightful and has sometimes provocative ideas, but it's always done with respect and a real desire to make the piece the most it can be. I have been bullied by directors before, and it ain't fun. Specifically, when we did the 'reading' of 'The Grass Eats the Horse', based on the life and writings of a poet whose name escapes me right now, and written by Eric Blau, of Jacque Brel is Alive and Well fame; I got involved because Bette is a friend of Eric's wife (Elly Stone, if I may be permitted to name drop), and they wanted her in the piece, so they asked me as well. Then the director, whose name I forget, but it's just as well . . . anyway a Julliard grad who wanted his buddies in the piece . . . he liked Bette, but he tried everything he could to make me quit . . . of course, that just brought out the West Virginia in me and I held fast, no matter what he dished out. It was a good time (except for the asswipe director); Roger Serbagi was in it, a real sweetheart and a wonderful actor. Nice audiences. We did it at St. Marks Church in the Bowery, which also made it special. I thought I did a credible job and Bette and I got some scenes together, and that was nice. But the director . . . so I know from bullying directors, and Wallace ain't even close. I don't think abuse is even in his vocabulary . . . every single one of our rehearsals seems like it's over before it begins . . . I'm having a blast!!!

Reading tonight

Ok so before I'm off to bed, I thought it would be a good idea to get some of my reactions down . . . I had a reading of Old Hickory tonight .. . and it was very well received. A lot of very positive reactions all round, yes from Bette and Laurette, and from Wallace all uniformly wonderful, and other members of the Woodstock Fringe group ... but also from total strangers who don't know me from Adam, and sought me out for comment afterward. all in all a very good springboard for the next few week's work and polishing this stone into a gem. I am glad I used the script, though I didn't refer to it much . . . and one time I did I realized I had a previous version that hadn't been updated . . . oops . . . that's when you have to think on your feet, but I wasn't really using the script much anyway . . . it was more of a security blanket than anything else. So that's it. Just wanted to record some reactions and to add my own, while still fresh in my mind. I hadn't been on a journey like that in a while . . . and it felt good!

Thursday's rehearsal . . .

We had another good one on Thurs. night. Wallace liked my idea of moving the play indoors to the kitchen and we worked on moment to moment stuff, and got all the way to the first confrontation between Jimmy and his dear wife. As always, Wallace had some good notes and encouraged me to go as far as I want to, you don't have to worry about going too far at this stage of the game . . . it's one of those things you know, instinctively, but it's good to hear none the less.

He also suggested that, when I do the reading on Tuesday night, that I do it with script. As he put it: we don't have to show them our private work just yet. Despite what I said previously about wanting to do it sans book, I think this idea makes a lot of sense. There is really nothing to gain by doing it from memory, and a significant amount to lose if I get in there and scramble things up . . . what you don't need in your first foray into solo shows, is to go in feeling defensive cause you blew the reading. I think it's best not to peak too soon.

So that's the plan. Can't wait. Just ran lines with Bette and it went pretty well, though distractions from the dog and the fire alarm across the way didn't help any. I know all the big stuff, there's just some little things that I botch from time to time and I might as well have being word perfect as my goal. Who said this would be easy anyway? If they did, they lied.