Good morning

Good morning.

I am sitting in the Seattle airport, a place I have been many times before, and a place that holds countless memories for me. It is far too early for me to be up, considering where my circadian rhythms have me.

All that said (so you can gauge my mind set), this blog is ultimately supposed to be about writing, so let's talk writing.

Over this winter break of mine, I was expected to complete a draft of a play for Spence's class. It's a strange murder mystery playing out inside the protagonist's head. It is quite dark, and I think that darkness attracts Spence. However, I think that very same darkness keeps me from being very attracted to writing it. I prefer to write things that are happy and funny because I'd rather be laughing, all the same. In any case, I've written a bit more of the script, but still have a way to go.

I really want to finish this screenplay that I promised a friend I'd write. He came up with the characters and the world, but needs/wants me to write the screenplay. I really like the characters and the world he's created, and as I get closer to a finished product, you, dear reader(s) will know more deets (details). However, the story is just so ephemeral to me right now. It feels right and wrong in the same breath, and I'm not sure the tale I'm trying to tell fits within the Field three act structure. Nor do I think it would agree with McKee (So many books, I should write some reviews of the ones that have worked for me)... So, my problem is that I'm bringing my love for "meta" to the world of film. Not entirely unwelcome, but certainly awkward. Bah, enough complaining.

Go out and write.
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Bedtime Thoughts

Tonight will be a short night. I getting up at four in order to fly to my cousin's wedding. Three hours of sleep, fantastic.

I watched "Die Harder" tonight, and I will start out by saying I love the ironic title. I felt that the early Die Hard movies (by that I mean one and two) were especially interesting because they redefined the action genre. All this has been studied by folks a whole lot more verbose than I, and you can read it in depth from them. For me, the change happened with the shift from muscle bound supermen to the, more or less, guy next door. All of a sudden here is a hero the audience (presumably at least the white males) could really relate to.

I won't sit here (lay here) and pretend that John McClain is an everyman sort, but his actions don't transcend traditional levels of reality to much. There are repercussions to his actions, he gets injured, he runs out of ammunition, he questions his involvement in the action. All wonderful, and all not especially evident in the genre films leading up to this.

With all that to chew on, I'm going to throw out a quick question to muse as you sip your coffee as I jet overhead, has the tide turned? Are the heroes in action films turning back into the supermen of the eighties? Take a look at the latest installment in the "Die Hard" franchise, the not quite as deliciously ironic "Live Free or Die Hard" (I might be incorrect with the title.... How embarrassing). McClain is back, but he seems more capable in terms of the fantastic. He is no longer the cop down the street, but rather he has been transformed into the iconic figure of John McClain with his trademarked phrases and patented grimaces.

And just as John McClain's emergence signaled the changing of the guard, so to might John Rambo's re-emergence..........

Goodnight. Play nicely.
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Bedtime Thoughts

So usually, I really connect to movies/stories about writers and writing, and I find it is an easy way to motivate me into writing more.

For example, some movies I love (about writing) are "Shakespeare in Love", "Stranger than Fiction", et al.

For the record, a movie I do not like is "She-Devil". It involves a writer and writing, but I did not enjoy it (Interesting, though, to find myself watching movies two days in a row based on the premise of adultery. What is the prevalence of this discretion in our society?)

I also love the movie "Misery".

Because I am a writer, I like movies about writing. Is that a trend that continues throughout humanity? Do we prefer to listen to stories about our own little worlds? Or are we more attracted to the places that are alien to us. The writer leading us into the places we are afraid to pace... I'm not sure.

The oldest axiom about writing that I've been dished to is "Write what you know." But does the reverse apply? Read/watch what you know?

Think on it while I sleep.
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A new Job, a new type of Writing

So, I thought I would hold off on annoucing this new position that I've managed to acquire.

I've been "hired" as the Lead Writer for a small gaming company called Solid Stage, and we are working on a new MMO set in space. I'm writing the main world for the game, and coming up with the storyline. The game is called " Deep Transit".

I'm not exactly sure how much I can put in here about the work I'm doing, the writing and the world creation, so it will be a little light on that. BUT, there we go, there's something on the horizon. Perhaps sometime I'll even get paid for it.

Peace and love kiddos. I'll let you know more deets when I got em.

Bedtime thoughts

I am laying here in this warm bed, wondering what the hell is going on.

The power has been fluctuating between two positions. On and off, and its right annoying, especially as I am in the middle of a movie.

I am watching (attempting to watch) the movie "Waitress) which I am quite enjoying, but it raises two questions to me. One, how will this movie resolve to a happy ending (which a dear person has assured me it does) and two, is there a current trend of films/theatre/stories in which there is a moral justification for otherwise immoral actions?

The case here being adultery. Granted, as I write this, there has long been a Western tradition of glorifying violence, so perhaps moral justification for immoral acts is not a new concept. Fair enough. But, where are the moral lines drawn in story telling? Am I responsible, as an author for the actions I allow the protagonist to get away with? For the view that I take? Is it my view, or can I argue that the actions are those of the characters in the story?

All of which brings about the question of morality.... Is there a justification for any action? In the case of Waitress, does Keri Russells character have a justification for cheating on her incredibly atrocious husband? I mean, clearly, absolutely clearly a jerk in every stereotypical way... So much so that its a bit difficult to imagine how she could have married him in the first place. Say what you will about Stanley, but he has his moments, is great in bed and (especially when played by Marlon Brando) is one fine man. This Earl is a poorly disguised stereotype in an otherwise heavily dimensioned film.

There we go. The power is back on and let's see if we are able to finish the film.

*****SPOLIERS BELOW*****

The film has ended, and it did indeed have a happy enough ending. I mean, there wasn't a sense of closure for the relationship between the doctor and Jenna (keri russell). And isn't the doctor almost as "bad" as Earl for the manner he treated his wife? It's almost as if by not telling his wife about the affair, the damage is not done. I cry foul.

The characters of the two romantic leads were well flushed out, and I really enjoyed the banter between them. There was a genuine sense of comedy there, especially when the cliched response was given, the thrown out. A technique the male actor (also in Firefly (the captain therein) Scuz help me out))) seems to have perfected.

Okay, goodnight folks.
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"The Namesake"

Today I watched the Mira Nair movie, "The Namesake", which is quite good.

It's an interesting example of the film that explores the cultural melting point of contemporary society. The speed bumps of that new cultural assimilation. In this case, it is the story of an Indian family struggling with the Americanization of its children, while at the same time, it is the children dealing with being Indian Americans.

Oddly enough, I really did intend to speak about cultural notions, but I think the issue that comes up for me while watching this movie (yes, I am still watching the movie as I type this) is the notion of cruelty. As a writer, how can you be cruel to your characters. These entities of your own creation, and it is up to you to destroy them. I mean, let's be honest when we say there is little dramatic interest in a film (or play or story) where nothing bad happens to the protagonist. A question begins to arise, in my head at least, is it possible for a story to be dramatically interesting sans cruelty....

Perhaps, we shall see....
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Bedtime thoughts

Sitting in bed, laying really, I come to contemplating the movies I have seen recently, and the conjectures they have placed in my head. They are, in relative chronological order: "No Country For Old Men", "the Kingdom", "Shoot 'em Up" and last and least, "Jeepers Creepers".

Certainly, there is more to connect these movies other than their obvious predilection for violence. But I have to wonder if any of these films, nay movies, have serious value as either art or even story. Sure, they all tell some stories, and in the case of the Coens' quite well, but at the same time, all four of these movies left me very wanting.

I was enthralled by the world and the characters created by the Coens for their latest opus, and perhaps that is why their abject lack of logical progression in their otherwise hyper realistic movie bothered me so much. I hesitate to speak too much about the film because I would love my readers to see the film and come to their own conclusions, plus, I don't like to be one to spoil the movies. Be forewarned, it is impressively violent.

The start of this post, or at least the intent, was to discuss the concept of the story, or, to address the films I have seen lately and their general disregard for a quality tale. "The Kingdom" certainly seemed like it was destined for commercialism, and it did not disappoint. I felt I could have drawn out the beats of the movie, and laid it over the diagram Syd Field drew in "Screenplay". Too formulaic.

Okay, the bedtime notes are going to be a more regular occurrence as I try to make sure this site stays regularly updated, however, they are also to remain short.

So, goodnight. God bless.
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On being lost (part two)

(It's odd to think that my initial thought at the top of this little diatribe is on the subject heading of this particular post, amd if it conforms to the norm I established with the last post. OCD here I come)

As per the life of a student, I am at the relative start of my winter break, a glorious one month of relaxed responsibilities. This is the time traditionally reserved for the recharging of artistic batteries. I haven't found the plug yet. I feel stressed out and barely controlled. And this isn't helping solve my sense of loss.

Since the last post, I wrote some good starts, at least I think I did. My profs have expressed excitement at what I might (read Should) be bringing in as finished drafts upon my return. I spent the last few days fulfilling family obligations and trying hard to "relax", an anachyronism that is not lost on me. (And yes, I know anachronism is not the right word, but I can't think of what the appropriate word to express the inherent irony in trying hard to relax.)

I'd like to think I'm suffering from post scholastic stress disorder. I just can't relax. There's this constant pressure of needing to research and write and learn and get things done. How dis this affect my creative process? It makes the process non existent.

Bye for now kiddos!
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The Act of Being Lost (Part One)

I think that every artist experiences a feeling of despair. A wondering of, what am I doing? Where am I going? Am I doing the right thing devoting my life to this elemental esotericism? I don't have the answers for you, hell, I don't have the answers for me.

We, and I'm speaking in a contemporary sense, have this notion of being the tough guy. Of throwing down our gloves and ripping the barbed wire apart with our bare hands because it reinforces the notion of how tough we really are. It's stupid, I know. It's part of, at least in my mind, something I like to call the "John Wayne Syndrome". We want to have the pilgrims look at us in awe as we walk into camp, or limp, with a broken leg, no horse and arrows sticking out of our back. WE love that feeling. We LOVE that image. That man in pain, but still pushing on as if nothing is bothering us. We seem to have that need to walk through the valley of the shadow of misery, and let you know about every evil we thought we toughed out. And if you don't notice the cuts, well, we cut them deeper so you do. And then fake trying to hide them.

All that to say that, we have difficulty imagining others going through difficulty, we want to be the ones in the most difficult arena. You climbed Everest? Well I did K2. Twice. Without oxygen or sherpas. It's all a gigantic contest that ends up with everyone losing. C'est la vie. I guess. It shouldn't be that way. HOWEVER, before I digress again, I think there is this notion that the greats didn't wrestle with demons. That Shakespeare sat down and just spewed out Lear as perfection. I mean, we know that didn't happen, at least not with Lear. But we like to think so. Or that Tennessee Williams wrote his great plays between the bars. I'm sure he didn't succumb to writer's block for his whole life, or wrestle with the demons of "Proper" and "Mediocrity" (who are vile little creatures, and very different from each other) for life, but I'm sure they hit upon him in the dark moments of the night.

A great quote by Brecht

In reference to "Baal", one of Bertolt Brecht's early works, he wrote in a much later edition:

"For the present edition of "Baal" the original version of the first and last scenes has been restored. Otherwise, I have left the play as it was, not having the strength to alter it. I admit (and advise you): this play is lacking in wisdom."
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The Mist

This film, by a rather great director/adapter Frank Darabont, again presents a quandry, beyond that of why did I see two movies in one day... This film was based on a novella by Stephen King, and was, without doubt, my favorite short story by Mr. King.
The movie was faithful to the original in a few respects, though it did remove the moral ambiguity of the hero and expressing additional exposition to insure a contemporary audience would understand what was happening. As a film review, I think the movie was a romp with middling special effects. As a writer, there were two areas of interest. First is the manner in which the exposition/background of the story is presented. It was done so poorly. Would it be possible for the story to happen without that? Would people understand what was happening? Would they fly along with the story?
Second. The end. I won't post the end yet, but I will talk about that at a later date.
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August Rush

This movie presents something of an enigma to me. It's quite a bit of trash in many respects, and the lead boy actor is awful. The movie is heavy handed and about as subtle as a sledgehammer, but for some reason, it had a profound effect on me. I found myself nearly in tears over the hugely contrived story. Story? It's a fairy tale, with a simple innocent main character who has a strong action which isn't deviated from. The boy, August, is never appears to doubt the veracity of his parents existence or their desire for him. We, as the audience, are privvy to that fact, watching as the parents feel the pangs of separation, and an almost equal desire to find the child. The two antagonists are also equally transparent in both their evil intents and desires. The music in this particular tale was weilded as magic, and I have to admit that the music was indeed magical.
Perhaps the reason there was such a profound effect on me was the music. It was pervasive and powerful, and, I believe, when you give in to it, it can sweep you away.
As this is primarily about writing, here's a moment to talk about that. I found the story should have started later than it did. I was interested in the mother and the son, but the father's journey as a rock star just didn't hold my attention as well. The dialogue was weak at its best, and usually felt clunky and contrived. Worth seeing for the music, but ultimately, you will be disappointed by that silly boy.
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This is the illegal postcard for the reading upcoming of my play "Anatomy of an Anarchist". Illegal because the oncampus theatre company seems to have strange ideas about posters. I'd be really happy if a playwright took the iniative to do some publicity. Especially free publicity for the theatre company. Whatevs. Damage control on route, things are fine. Just annoying really.

Any case, those who are in this area, feel free to head over to Downstage Theater to view a staged reading of "Anatomy of an Anarchist" on November 29 at 7:30.

One thing about graduate school is that it rarely leaves time for anything else. That excuse set aside for the moment, I am a heinous individual for leaving this alone for so long.
Since the last post, here is the rundown of what has happened:
I saw a show in NY that is a little comedy show called "Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind" by a group called the neo-futurists. It is a fun fast paced show where thirty two minute plays are performed in an hour. Very goofily. I highly recommend it.
I took part in the 24 hour play festival here at SLC, wherein I was a director. Many people came up to me and said that my play was the best one of the night, so go me. It was a good time, and reminded me that directing is fun.
I've written four plays since I've been here.
The show that I am acting in, "The Authentick Relations of Dutch..." (it's a very long title) is going up this week, and it has been an enlightening experience, showing me new ways to look at creating theatre.

It has been an adjustment being back at school. Being around people who have a vastly different maturity level (read undergrads) has been harrowing at times. I miss, in some senses, the days of being a professional, but I was a professional in something I didn't want to do.

Okay, so, that's that, and I will try to keep things here a little more up to date.
Much love,
Me.

This weekend, I finally made it to the Great White Way. I saw a Broadway production of the show, "Chorus Line".

To begin, it was an interesting experience. To end, the show is beyond dated at this point. There was no attempt to update the show in any sense, and I think that resulted in a detrimental theatre going experience on my part.

The original show came out in 1976, and blew everyone away. It received numerous awards, and was/is a fantastic show. In it's time. Now, it's been done. The dancing that our culture has been exposed to since 1976 is far and above beyond the performances at this show. The pseudo disco fosse mix has gone from being hip and new to being trite and old. It was difficult watching the production claim that the dancers were amazing or the routines exceptionally difficult when there really wasn't that new flair to it.

Of course, perhaps this is an intrinsic problem of heading into a play with some notion of expectation. I expected fabulous dancing. I didn't get it. I was irritated. I expected witty dialog, but I was not rewarded. Is it my fault for wanting too much out of the show? I'm not sure.

The quick and dirty: The show was dated, through and through. If you are looking to see a great Broadway show, this isn't it. If you are looking for a nostalgic trip back to the Broadway of yesteryear, this might be the ticket. It certainly seemed to recreate the feeling of watching a show in 1976. But we've grown so much as a culture, is there a point to going back to exactly that? Can't we see an updated chorus line? The trials and tribulations faced by contemporary dancers? I would love to see that... of course, maybe that's just an opening for some other musical to be composed. "Chorus Line 2: This time, it's personal"

Alright, so I've been at Sarah Lawrence College for a week now. Technically a week and a half, and it is certainly an experience. It's pretty insane. In a good way. I have yet to have a playwriting class, but one is coming up this afternoon, and I'm quite excited for it. With only two people in the class, it's a little intimidating, I'm unsure how the workshop aspect of the class will function. I was hoping for small class sizes, but this is a little ridiculous.

One of things I love about the college atmosphere is the exposure to different people in different fields. I didn't expect to be so drawn to these other fields though. Perhaps that's why I do theatre, because I want to do everything. I worry that the MFA I acquire here will lead to few other jobs, especially as I watch the human geneticists around me all lining up careers post college. I wonder, should I change? Is the study of theatre a pointless exercise? Granted, the most appropriate response is Isn't it a bit late for that? Yes. Yes it is. However, I could just get more schooling after this schooling, and get the education in something that is a bit more career friendly.

In any case, school is an interesting place to be, and I've gotten some writing done already. Just a one act called, "Love: A Masturbatory Act in Four Digressions" but it felt good to get some words on the page. I'll start work on the bigger projects as soon as I've gotten my feet wet in the playwriting classes.

A gem

A small sentence in this book I'm reading, "American Avant-Garde Theatre: a History" by Arnold Aronson has struck a chord with me today.

"If the purpose of art is to create experiences one cannot have in everyday life... then a theatre that replicates the everyday world is meaningless and pointless."

Right on the nose. However, that being said, one then must argue what constitutes everyday world. We do not share identical existences in this world, and therefore, the notions we might consider normal are not necessarily as commonplace as we, in our bias, might assume.

But perhaps we should take this at a broader stroke. Perhaps Dr. Aronson is trying to imply the worthlessness of theatre that exists alongside reality. Is he trying to refer to plays in the realistic or naturalistic sense (Chekhov or Ibsen) or does he also refer to plays that extend a bit further from reality, but remain within the bounds of our capabilities of recognizing the world presented (Tennesee Williams or August Strindberg)? As this is a book about avant garde theatre, it makes sense to assume Dr. Aronson has some predilection for the avant-garde above other forms of theatre, but does this allow us to assume he thinks the vast quantity of theatre is, "meaningless and pointless"?

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Another thought on the point of Art

And by art, I mean theatren though I imagine the quote by Lionel Trilling refers to all art.
"A primary function of art and thought is to liberate the individual from the tyranny of his culture in the environmental sense and to permit him to stand beyond it in an autonomy of perception and judgment."

A tall order. I hesistate to say I agree or disagree with his statement. I think the best way to phrase my thoughts is to say that I respect the ideal, but question its practicality.
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A thought

I'm sitting here in the helpful hum of a flourescent light reading "American Theatre". Nicole Estvanik, in a critic's notebook, says, "Isn't that what we want from our playwrights- for them to frame a Pointillist haze of ideas, events, and personalities, and help us see a picture emerge?"

Is that what "we" want from playwrights?
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The Reading of "Anatomy of an Anarchist"

Last night (or Sunday August 26 if I'm slow in posting), a play I wrote, "Anatomy of an Anarchist" was produced as a staged reading by the company Intravenous Theatre. In New York City. In Manhattan.

It was brutally hot and humid and the audience was made up of people I didn't know. It was hard to be there with strangers, and I definitely felt bashful going up for the talk back. However, that seems to be the nature of the beast and it was good to place myself in uncomfortable situations.

I was pleased, for the most part, with the results. The actors chosen did a great job, and helped illuminate some of the problems I had been unable to see just by reading. It reaffirmed, to me at least, the need to hear a work out loud to understand what it is you, or in this case, me, have written.

There were some lines that surprised me, I hadn't remembered writing them. I think that's a sign of good acting. Or my poor memory. I haven't read the play in some time, so it's difficult to know if any lines were changed. Normally my dialogue is rife with profanity, and I don't use damn very often. More often it's fuck. So... I wonder.

It was hard to listen to some of the talk back responses, some people were complaining about the effects that I intended to happen. I wanted the ending to feel almost pointless, like there wasn't a real change in the world from the beginning of the play to the end of the play. But this guy said that's what he felt, but seemed to imply it was a negative.

I was really happy with the enthusiastic response that the meta-theatrical nature of the play received. I want the play to be playful, especially when dealing with such a serious topic, and one of the comments I received was that the playfulness balanced out the preachy nature of the material and made it more palatable.

Well, I think that's all for the present. As I begin the rewriting process, there will be more to write here. A second entry on this play, "Anatomy of an Anarchist" will be forthcoming.

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