Open Wardrobes

After working on the commedia and the Adaptation over the past couple of months, I've come up with a new goal for myself for this year:

To write five rough drafts.

It's an ambitious goal, but I'm well on my way with two rough drafts down already in about a month and a half, which made me realize the virtue of setting a goal towards which you have already made significant progress. Part of this goal is that at least two of these rough drafts be brand new (such as the commedia) while the rest can either be new or be finishing up a draft that I've started but haven't yet finished (such as the Adaptation). Right now as I work on some revisions to the commedia I'm also sketching out some ideas for a new play, a comedy. I have a few other ideas that I've been meaning to work on, plus a couple of other pieces that have been gathering dust, and this seemed like a good way to motivate myself to get at least a full draft down on paper. The idea isn't that all of these plays will be finished and polished by the end of the year, but at least I should end the year with a lot of raw material down and ready for the next stage.

Yesterday afternoon Kelly and I went to the Tea Source and I wrapped up the very rough draft of the Adaptation. It is indeed VERY rough, my goal with this first pass mostly being to start laying out the structure and figure out what parts from the book I want to keep and what definitely needs to be cut. So far I don't feel like I've had to cut too much (it's not an extremely long book). The next pass will, I think, be focused on streamlining the structure so that I can keep scene changes and technical needs to a minimum. In the rough draft I was also pulling out the dialogue from the book I think I want to keep, plus starting to add in my own dialogue where it's clear that some sort of bridge is needed. For the moment though I'm going to set it aside as I start to work on revisions to the commedia piece. But it's exciting to think that since January 1st I've written an entire rough draft (the commedia) and picked up and completed a second draft (the Adaptation).

Last night Walking Shadow Theatre Company opened their second production this season: Mojo by Jez Butterworth and directed by company member Amy Rummenie. Set in 1950's Soho as Rock and Roll is growing in popularity, the play centers around the staff of the Atlantic nightclub who believe they've found the next big Rock and Roll star and are eager to get a piece of the pie. After a hit concert starring their find, Silver Johnny, they think their fortunes made, but it all goes south when the nightclub owner is sawed in half and Silver Johnny disappears, all courtesy of the local mob boss, and the rest of the nightclub staff holes up in the club waiting to see what the fallout will be.

I've mentioned before that the scripts Walking Shadow chooses can be hit or miss for me, though the production value is always top notch. Mojo wasn't the best script they've chosen, but overall I thought it was a fun piece. The play had a nice rhythm to it, even if the characters spend most of their time waiting for a hit that never comes. It also could stand for about 20-30 minutes of trimming; at almost 3 hours (including an intermission) the play was long for what the story was, despite the actors' great pacing. (And due to the excessive language, it's definitely not one to take the kids too.)

But whatever you think of the script itself, this was a production that belonged to the actors. The strong cast kept the play moving swiftly along, a must for a script that is mostly talk. A weaker cast would have quickly become bogged down in the text, but such was not the case here. Skyler Nowinski was my favorite, with his quirky portrayal of Potts who schemes and dreams of riches in the wake of his great find. He is wonderfully complemented by Joey Ford's delightfully good-natured and none-to-bright Sweets who is mostly along for the ride. Ryan Parker Knox provides a nice counterpoint to this humorous pair as the straight-faced number two who must figure out how they can survive the night in the wake of his boss' murder. Mark Benzel does a nice job as well as the awkward Skinny who tries desperately to fit in while escaping the harassment of the sadistic Baby (Anthony Sarnicki). Kudos must also go to the cast for dealing with the the unexpected seventh cast member: a bat who flew around for about 20 minutes during the second act. They persevered despite its repeated interruptions and it certainly made for a nice humorous break. (There are some experiences you just can't get except in live theater.) I have to also call out the great scene design by Steve Kath. I wasn't so impressed during act one, just a simple room on one side of stage... until I realized during intermission that once it and the curtains were removed there was an entirely different set for the downstairs of the club behind it!

So all in all a solid production. Shows continue through February 27th at the Red Eye Theater in Minneapolis with a Pay-What-You-Can performance this Monday night (shows at 7:30 PM, except for Sundays which are a 3:00 PM). 4 out of 5 stars.

Last Sunday afternoon we wrapped up Doubt with our last performance, and 15 minutes later were hard at work tearing the set apart. Four weekends felt like the right amount of time to me for a run. I'm always sad to have a show over: you may work with the same people again or do the same play again, but it's never quite the same. Each production is it's own unique experience that can never be recaptured again, on stage or off, and that is part of what is so wonderful about it. It is transient, but there is a beauty in that transience, just as there is in a sunset. It happens every day and yet each in unique, and were it not so it could easily become mundane. Even within a production every performance is different. The wonder of live performance is that it never is the same twice but wholly unique. And we as actors and audience are changed by the experience, in large ways and small, and do not come out of it the same as we went in, not if we are truly experiencing it. The end of a production means leaving the character behind, parting ways after spending so much time together, but I am always conscious that a piece of the character stays with me. I am a different person than I would have been for not portraying this role (which is why I believe that a good actor is not someone who can play any role, but is someone who knows what roles they should play). The experience of being in a show is too an interesting observation of human nature. You can throw a group of random people together, potentially where none of they have ever met each other before, and by the end of the show have a group that functions as a family. Certainly this does not always happen, most actors probably have at least one story of a completely dysfunctional cast, but when it happens there is a magic there and it translates to what you see on stage.


And the show is over, and these people you have spent hours and hours with over the course of weeks or months you may not see again. But something special has been created that goes beyond the performance. It is, I think, akin to what is meant in the Christian sense when we talk of the Body of Christ: together we are something that we could not be alone, and yet without any loss of our individuality. C. S. Lewis compares the Christian view with others that seek a Oneness of humanity, pointing out that Christianity differs in its thoughts on this in that as the Body of Christ we are more ourselves, not less, for being one in God. A theater performance is much the same: we need to be our unique selves in order to create something together that is more than the sum of its parts. It is a paradox, but one thing life has taught me is that "paradox" is not a synonym for "false," however much it means we may not understand.