Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy, or are you gonna bite?

So, this last weekend I went to Florida for an audition at Mad Cow Theatre in Orlando. It was an enjoyable trip, but I do sorta get the vibe that the folks in the audition were sorta like, "Alright...you live in Decatur, GA. Are you planning on moving down here? No? Ok, you can go ahead and do your monologues, since you drove all this way." Now, I could be completely wrong, and maybe they'll want me for The Lion in Winter or Mackers or something, but, as with all auditions, I'm not holding my breath.

The main reason I'm doing a post about it, though, is because I saw a play when I was in Orlando that I have...mixed feelings about. The show was Reservoir Dogs, as produced by Greater Orlando Actors Theatre. Full disclosure...I didn't know anyone in this show, but the person I went with knew Mr. Blonde and Mr. Brown. Also, full disclosure, the first thing I thought of when she mentioned this to me was the section in "Waiting for Guffman" where they talk about staging "Backdraft." There were a lot of people who really enjoyed it, I think. I'm sure you can find some really solid reviews online. This isn't so much a review of the play itself, but...

Now, on a sheer performance level, the show had highlights and lowlights. It was neither good enough to praise, nor bad enough to enjoyably eviscerate, so why am I commenting on it? Because, to my mind, it committed a cardinal sin of theatre. It was completely and utterly pointless. Everyone in that room has seen that movie. The group of actors that performed it for us would have been well served in another show where they wouldn't have had to do impressions of other actors. Not everyone did this, (Steve Hurst as Mr. Blonde was pretty solid, to my mind.) but there were some performances that were ripped right out of the film. No naming names, but they were pretty significant parts...

I just don't see the reasoning behind it. I mean, you have to strive to bring in a different demographic to stay relevant. I get that. But, if you ARE going to do Reservoir Dogs, don't be so dogmatic to the script. There are tricks that movies can get away with that theatre can't, and vice versa. So, for all of Mr. Orange's speech where he's telling the story about the drug bust that almost was, don't take it to a full blackout between parts of his story. Part of the joy is watching him grow in one, seamless stream. Also, just an idea, DO NOT USE FOOTAGE FROM THE MOVIE UNLESS YOUR GOAL IS TO MAKE PEOPLE LAUGH! I really can't stress that enough. I'm more than happy to watch a stage version of Reservoir Dogs, but give me something different... Give me a reason to come out to your theatre and watch it, as opposed to popping in the DVD. Cut it down, streamline it, make the audience a part of it, and I don't mean by spattering blood on them, pull every trick you've got in your bag to remind the people who are paying ticket price that this ISN'T a movie.

Don't just bark. Have a little bite.

The Story of Jacob and The Dog

Even this blog post has backstory.

So, I felt like I needed to post SOMETHING. Please note, I'm still reeling from Kidstuf and there's a chance that I'll talk about it more at a later date. But, this weekend is very high stress for me, so we'll just have to see when that happens. Just know that when I post about it, it's probably not a good thing. Also, Hamlet starts next week, so I'll have stuff to talk about.

But, until then, here's this story. Redd, at one point asked for some Embarrassing or Awesome stories for the Shakespeare Tavern blog. The only one that I could think of was this story from my time at Double JJ. She never ended up doing the blog post, but my tale was so very long, I figured I'd use it. So, enjoy. PLEASE NOTE - Some language used is not suitable for children. Kidstuf fans - Please avert your eyes.

I was at the Double JJ Ranch and Resort for one summer where I worked on staff as "Entertainment". That title covered a lot of ground, from setting up the mechanical bull to working on a rifle and bow range to performance. Even the performance was varied. Throughout the week, we would perform in stunt shows, a children's theatre piece, an improv show, and a country and rock musical revue (I know, right? I still know all the words to "Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)"). But, since our entertainment managers were former (Current again? Nice! Go check out Jason Leyva's website, especially if you're in Oklahoma.) theatre people themselves, they also had, during the summer, a legit theatre day. It was performed in one of the several bars on property called "The Silver Dollar". They tended toward longer one-acts, so that one week, we could have James McLure's "Laundry and Bourbon" or "Lone Star", another "Jack and Jill" by Jane Martin. It was an odd collection, and once a play was out of the rehearsal phase, they would toss it on the schedule on occasion, just to keep it sharp.

I tell you all this to set the background for my one moment of glory(?). One of the reasons I came to Double JJ was to do Albee's "The Zoo Story". It's a seminal play in Albee's career, and just a great piece of work for two men. The other actor, Matt Waldrep, and myself took turns on occasion. One day he'd be Peter and I'd be Jerry and vice versa. On this particular day, I'd be playing Jerry, the guy who carries the lion's share of the text. It had been a bit before we had put it up, and recently I had been playing Peter, so I wasn't as solid as I could have been on the lines. I spent all day going over it, trying to make sure it was in there. By the time I got to The Silver Dollar, the emotion I felt was very similar to going on as an understudy during my apprenticeship here. Sort of unprepared, but excited for the challenge. But unprepared. Did I mention that?

When I got on stage, things were going alright...they ticked along just fine for a bit, but something began to stick in my head. Someone had a dog in their car outside. And he was barking. Loudly. And constantly. Now, we're talking about a play that clocks in at around 45 - 50 minutes. Not too long of a time, but imagine a dog barking through that. Seriously imagine it. The longer the dog barked, the more my performance began to suffer. This was when I was a far less disciplined actor than the rock of consistency that you know and love, so I was really letting this dog get to me. It got even worse when I got to the largest section of Jerry's text, fittingly enough entitled, "The Story of Jerry and the Dog." The dog outside just started getting more and more insistent, louder, and my monologue began to get more incomprehensible. Finally, I broke down to the point where I stopped, mid-line, and yelled, "Will someone PLEASE shut that f***ing dog up!" I took a quick breath and continued on with the remainder of the line.

After my outburst, I saw one guy look back to the door, slowly sidle outside, and the dog stopped barking. I finished the rest of the show without incident, but it was the first time I had ever dropped character like that in front of an audience. NOT something I intend to do again, but, man...I gotta admit, it was liberating.

So...there it is. The story of Jacob and the Dog.

If you ever need someone who has done absurdist theatre on a ranch, you give me a call.

Maybe there's no harm in a wasted summer with no drummer

So, I got back from UPTA at about four in the morning yesterday... Some things have occurred to me. Allow me to share them with you.

Both myself and KG, my friend who I went with, had about sixteen callbacks last year. This year, we dropped to about three. Now, I can't speak for her, but I will say that I wasn't particularly shocked by this. But, it is the beginning of a rant... A rant that, if you talked to me in the last few days, you might be familiar with. Feel free to skip it.

(Rant) To set this up for you, UPTA is spread across four days. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday. One of those days is not like the others. Which one? Monday, of course. Why is it different? Because Monday is a typical actor's day off from performance. Most places are doing shows on Friday and Saturday, with at least a matinee on Sunday. Now, I understand that Monday is the end of a very long weekend for most folks and they have to be thinking about packing and heading out. I'm just curious why you wouldn't want to stay and watch the auditions on the day when 90% of actors working in the month of February could make it. I did the math before I went, and was supposed to be auditioning for 55 companies. After I checked out my callbacks, I took a look at the lists and there were about 29 that watched my group. Plus, when you factor in that I had on my information that I wasn't particularly interested in children's theatre or an internship just at the moment, there just weren't a lot of places that I could audition for left.

I'm not saying that what the companies are doing is wrong. I just don't see why you wouldn't want to check out the people who are working currently and, thusly, in demand. UPTA has to find a way to either incentivise companies staying or give a financial break to those going on Monday. Monday auditions oughtn't have to pay the same price for, roughly, half the opportunity. UPTA is still the best cattle call audition I've ever been to, don't get me wrong. But I'm not entirely sure I'll go next year if I can only go on Monday. (/rant)

All that being said, the three callbacks that I got were quality, with two specifically that I'm interested in. Plus, I was able to sneak in to Lost Colony to put my Simon on tape for them. I'm not expecting, necessarily, to go back there, since they've got in such a different, musically inspired direction. But, I do know that I'm a damn good Simon Fernando, and no one can take that one away.

I also had a moment where I made a realization. (Realization) I've got resume envy. I look at other resumes, and want what they have sometimes. I want names that pop and casting directors to raise an eyebrow when they come across something. Now, don't get me wrong, I think my resume is pretty darn solid, but I'm still...I dunno, envious isn't a good word for it, but it's the only one that comes to mind. Which is why I'm trying to get rid of it. I have to make my successes my own. No one else's success is mine, and that should be alright. I need to get to a point where I'm alright with my resume being, simply, what it is. That's easier said than done, but realizing it was the first step to, I think, a happier and more content career. (/Realization)

Also, I think I'm going to be doing some more stuff with reThink! Which is awesome. I was in a cape, essentially, from 9 to 5 the other day. Here's hoping the Amazing Brian was amazing after all.

So, that was my weekend. But enough about that. I'm going to go walk to the gym and enjoy this weather while it's still here.

Come Saturday, you'll come to stay, you'll come to sway in my arms.

Comp rant

I've got nothing else to do. Let's go ahead and talk about comps for a second.

So, I'm going back home this week, right? When I go home, I'm going to go see a production that a friend of mine is in at a community theatre that I've got a lot of connections to, right? Now, you won't hear me complain about this theatre in many respects. For instance, the changes that the current managing director has put in place have rejuvenated that theatre, making it a viable choice for the college students in the area. I've done some of my best work there, in fact. Outside of a couple of speed bumps, I've had nothing but great experiences there.

But...that being said...

Especially at the community theatre level, I feel it's completely inexcusable to not offer at least one comp to the participants. They give their time and expertise to a theatre and ask for nothing in return. Is it really too much to ask that they be given the ability to get someone in for free? Believe me, I understand that, more often than not, the audience is filled with family members and friends, rather than patrons looking for you to elucidate on the meaning of life. That's still no excuse to nickle and dime an actor out of what they earned. Often times, you're at the theatre, giving them three or more hours of your time, every day, for four weeks or so... Granted, the work itself should be the reward, but is one single comp really too much to ask?

I'm out of here tomorrow morning, blogfriend. Wish me well!