The Right To Judge

I’ve been watching with a growing (if somewhat jaded) interest in the case against Mel Gibson that is being theatrically played out in the court of public opinion.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’ve heard the tapes. They are reprehensible, vile, evil to the point of being demonic. Okay? These rants are the product of a deranged mind.

(And responses have been equally vehement. Note to would-be judges – if you are going to condemn Mr. Gibson’s choices of words, please don’t use the same words yourself. It confuses me.)

And – have you noticed – these tapes (5 so far) would not have had quite the emotional impact if they had been released all at once. Instead, release for each tape has been separated by a few days, allowing the press to instigate the same call for torches and pitchforks several times in a row.

It bothers me that we don’t know how old these tapes are. It bothers me that they are being released right at the time when Mel Gibson’s child custody case is starting. I find it difficult to believe this is a coincidence. In any case, the date when the tapes are released does not make Mel Gibson less guilty. On the other hand, it appears to make Oksana Grigorieva less innocent. Why didn’t she call the police after recording the first tirade? Or the second one? Or the third one? Or … why now?

Both Whoopi Goldberg and Jody Foster have been castigated for suggesting positive aspects to Mel Gibson’s character based on their personal experiences. Since we won’t tolerate any grey areas of actual knowledge here, they are dismissed as naive or stupid - guilty by association.

Nobody has answered this question – why is he mad? What started him down an emotional hill so steep that he literally has difficulty breathing? Is he truly a monster, or is he sick? If we judge without an answer to this question, what does that say about us?

And that is what concerns me the most. We don’t really care what Mel Gibson has or has not done. He's a token. We are content with one side of the story, which allows us to anoint him king of everything despicable in the male psyche. To give our passions proper heat we cling to conclusions based on other people’s calculated sensationalism and a decided lust for witch hunting.

Innocent until proven guilty only applies to people we like.

So, in case you feel I am defending Mel Gibson, I am not. In his condemnation of others he condemns himself.

But - I wonder - are we doing the same thing?

 
j

July 4, 2010

Comments On A Mind Set.

In the Spring of this year I was invited by Theatre Vault website to submit an article listing areas and directions where Community Theatre (in a general sense) could stand improvement.

I responded, pointing out my favorite picky details that have slightly dented a 55-year love affair with good and great theatrical experiences.

Apparently my article was acceptable to the regular readers of Theatre Vault. (Nobody was breathing heavily at my front door.) And, a few weeks ago, the Editor of the TV website invited me to submit another article along the same lines.

This time I hesitated. For one thing, I felt I had adequately covered the subject the first time around. There’s a fine line between constructive criticism and theatre bashing, and I’ve been on the receiving end of spurious attack enough times to not wish to inflict that on anybody else.

But I changed my mind. In response to a recent less than glowing review of mine, a reader pointedly reminded me that I was “reviewing a community theatre production, and not Broadway’s latest and greatest.”

I found this comment to be demeaning, not only to the theatre group he supports, but also to the community of non-professional theatres as a whole.

And I’ve heard it before. “It’s just community theatre.” To imply that one standard should or does exist for professional theatre and a lower one exists for community theatre is to suggest that the many incredibly gifted performers in community theatre are not good enough to stand equal to their paid brothers and sisters.

In fact, almost the opposite is true. There are over 40 theatrical organizations in this city, all fighting for the same dollars and patrons. No group is going to survive without constantly challenging the others to improve. Furthermore, many years ago the area went off the “A” list for professional touring companies, simply because they knew they couldn’t compete with both the quality and quantity of local presentations. Only in the areas of elaborately staged large musicals will you see much in the way of professional theatre here, and even these groups don’t always make a profit.

The bottom line is simply this; there’s only one standard. As an audience member, if you like a show, it’s good. If you don’t, it isn’t. It’s as simple as that. Your judgment should be based solely on taste and experience, without qualifications. If you are working on a show, and have the mind set that it’s “just community theatre,” the show is dead already. Make it the best it can possibly be, and settle for nothing less. Invite – even dare – comparisons to anybody. A positive, rather than defensive, attitude is everything.

j

A Time for Everything

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under heaven:


a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,


a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,


a time to weep and a time to laugh,
   a time to mourn and a time to dance,


a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
   a time to embrace and a time to refrain,


a time to search and a time to give up,
   a time to keep and a time to throw away,


a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,


a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace.


                                                 Ecclesiastes 3

Interesting Times

I’ve been around for awhile. I’ve seen this country change and change again. Some of it has been pretty good. We seem to be innovative to the point where it’s mind boggling. On the other hand, some of our directions and aspirations have been something less than admirable. (Why the Canadians speak to us at all has always been a mystery to me.)

During my lifetime a bunch of Presidents have come and gone. Some of ‘em were pretty good. Some of ‘em were just pretty. I’ve personally seen three, interviewed two.

I’m actually happy with the guy running the country at the moment. He’s not perfect – I think it would bother me if he was. But he still seems to be smarter than I am, and that’s why I voted for him in the first place.

Here’s an observation, then. I don’t think – in my entire life – I’ve ever seen so many disasters (man made and otherwise) fall over each other without a break as much as they have during the present administration. I saw a picture of the President today, and his hair is turning white. It’s not the first time, either. Other presidents have aged greatly during their time in office.

All this is leading to a question, rhetorical perhaps. Why would a smart person want the job? Think about it before answering. It’s a trick question.


j

Not Fair!

The Brits are unfair! Rumor has it that Sarah Ferguson may

be moving to New York. Is there not some hamlet anywhere in the British Isles willing to offer sanctuary to Sarah Palin?

BCTCO Playwriting Competition

I've just been elected to the board of a theatre company. With the thought of actually contributing something, at the first meeting I suggested they start a playwriting competition. They liked the idea. Here 'tis.

BCTCO Playwriting Competition

Bread & Circus Theatre Company (BCTCO) is pleased to announce its first ever playwriting competition. From submitted manuscripts, the theatre will produce an original play in August, 2010

This competition is open to all playwrights.

Only full-length plays will be accepted, submitted in standard script format.

Scripts may be submitted via e-mail to bctcocontest@gmail.com or by mailing a hard copy to:

BCTCO CONTEST
188 Midcliff Drive
Columbus, Ohio 43213

Entries for the 2010-2011 season must be received by midnight on June 15, 2010. Hard copies submitted will be returned only if accompanied by an SASE with sufficient postage.

The winner will be announced in the July Bread & Circus Newsletter.

There are no fees or other requirements to enter this competition; however, guidelines for entries are the same as for any other play produced at Bread & Circus.

• We are a family oriented theatre. Profanity and nudity are discouraged.

• We have limited stage space, so plays with multiple settings, while not automatically rejected, are not encouraged. We favor plays with simple or one-set requirements.

For further information, contact Bread & Circus Theatre Company at bctco1@gmail.com or call 614-470-4895.

Gone

The gypsy caravan is calling again. Wanna cross byways of Europe for a month. A few scenes, sad music, dark wine and eyes, going thru motions in silent forests. Horses. Dog. 

Heaven

Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent ...

Yeah, yeah, you’re undoubtedly going to hear a lot about this in the next few months. But the story so far has been unique in my experiences – so I thought I’d share some observations as I go along …

Some time ago, around Christmas I think, a theatre I frequent announced their 2010-2011 season. I like this little group, gutsy they are – normally their offerings are lesser known works by famous playwrights, and occasionally they throw in a classic – last season it was Shaw, this season Noel Coward, and starting in the Fall, Shakespeare.

I remember hearing me say it. I was talking to the Artistic Director and said,
“Wow! You’re doing Richard the Third? I’ve always wanted to do Richard the Third!”

So now I’m directing Richard the Third. And what’s the moral here? Altogether now:

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR!

So in December of 2009 I was contracted to direct R3 in November 2010.

Fine. Eleven months to think and plan.

And worry. What have I done?! This is Shakespeare. Shakespeare! Who in their right mind would trust me with arguably the greatest playwright who ever lived? I had (and have) visions of the British cutting off diplomatic relations, and blockading harbors, and unmanned aircraft being aimed at the theatre, and Sean Connery telling me he saw the show and was shaken but not stirred …

And they would be so right. Benny Hill is my inspiration. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod what have I done?

Here was my first hurtle. I was handed the script, and told to cut 45 pages out of it.

What?!

“It’s long,” I was told. “Lots of repetition. Lots of references to people nobody cares about. You'll have fun.”

Oh-h-h-h-h …

So I cut 42 pages. I have, after all, some principles. Maybe, with luck, when I die I’ll only be sent to the fifth level of hell …

In April the theatre held unified auditions, meaning they cast not a show, but a season. Out of the 44 characters written into R3, I was able to cast three – all women. Whatever you think of Willie S, he wrote strong women characters. The three actresses I have could eat their male counterparts for lunch.

And that’s where I am at the moment. There’s more – much more. Actors shy away (Ha!) and now I’ve learned that three productions of the same play are going to be produced roughly at the same time in the same city.

Can it get any better than this?


j

Soft You Now ...

Script Frenzy has ended. They wanted 100 pages in 30 days, they got 104 pages in 28 days. They gave Julie and I a logo saying that we are winners (as opposed to the one that simply concedes that we would be capable of covering a good sized wall with words ..

I have mostly sort of completed casting for the production of RICHARD III that I'm scheduled to direct in the fall. It was a surprise, then, when I stumbled across auditions mentioned on Facebook. Oops - auditions are for another company. I forgot that THREE productions of the play are scheduled to open within weeks of each other. (Who came up with that idea?)

I just finished seeing RENT, and writing reviews for A THOUSAND CLOWNS and I NEVER SANG FOR MY FATHER. My fingers hurt.

I am unaware of any politicians doing anything profoundly outrageous so far today, resulting in no heavy breathing on my part (and no cause for consternation and/or bemused interest from friends who live in civilized countries.).

Julie is off swatting at the windmill down the street, and the gauntlet Q threw at my feet I will pick up - tomorrow.

For the moment, then, the sun is shining and the weather is balmy warm. I'm going to take my drink, sit in the lawn chair I should have taken in last fall, and just smell the dandelions.


j

A Response

I received this comment on my last post:


balcony39 has left a new comment on your post "Okay. I'm About To Intimidate A Windmill. Again":
As a foreigner, tho' frequent visitor to the USA when I first started to read this I seriously thought the Gov of Arizona had it in for illegal aliens (from Mars etc.) You guys and your politicians are so wacked it seemed utterly feasible. Then I read on and I saw the raw ugly all pervasive face of rising hard right Neo Nazism. Ugly, Ugly, Ugly!!! Think on In Xanadu. Read a bit of history and see how the little stuff, and such a nasty bill is not a small thing, leads to the total erosion of human rights. Good luck!

I thought the observations from balcony 39 deserved more than simply being buried in the comments section of my post.

First of all, I sincerely apologize for the appearance of having “wacked” politicians. The United States of America is a republic, and republics constantly evolve, and sometimes it’s not pretty. If you read our history, you will note that regardless of whatever direction we lurch, eventually – and it could take years – the will of all the people dominates.

To compare the Arizona law to Neo Nazism is to focus on the wrong period of history. (And, respectfully, it’s condescending of you not to look deeper.) Unlike Nazi Germany, this is not a national law, it is a state law, and every civil rights organization in the country is lining up to take a shot at it. They are doing this because they can do this. On the national level, our President has people examining it – closely. Already parts of this law have been revised, and this is before it even goes into effect. This is literally the will of the people in action.

The real problem here is one of attitude. The “aliens” of today are regarded the same way African Americans were regarded in the 1930’s, 40’s, and 50’s. I suspect that earning respect and equality today will be every bit as difficult as it was 60 tears ago.

But you have to start somewhere.

j

Okay. I'm About To Intimidate A Windmill. Again

A couple of days ago I was staring at a blank computer screen (“You are getting sleepy, sleepy …”) and in the background the Governor of Arizona was signing a declaration of war against illegal aliens.

I was intrigued.

In the first place, the Governor of Arizona looks like the product of bad casting.


(“No no,” you would cry, “She’s not the Governor. She’s the Governor’s ex wife’s obnoxious Aunt Florence who is the first one eaten by the pod people... in the swamp … on Mars”)

In the second place, I was attracted by the obvious and loud opposition to the law the Governor was signing.

“Illegal aliens and the crimes they bring in are overrunning the state,” the Governor says. “They have to be stopped.”

I’m not sure why, but this seemed to many to be a radical concept.

“Sanctuary,” I know of one alien claiming. “Give me sanctuary.” And this person was taken into a church, housed, fed, and encouraged to resist deportation.

Would the church be as willing to take in a bicycle thief?

What’s the difference?

By best estimates, there are millions of illegal aliens in this country. Not thousands, not tens of thousands, not hundreds of thousands – millions. I can’t even fathom that many people.

And, being illegal, they don’t pay taxes on anything.

They don’t pay for fire departments, road repairs, or city lights, yet they use these services every day.

These millions of people also get health care. Free.

The children of illegal aliens attend our already over filled public schools. Again, there is not even a beginning of financial support from their parents.

There used to be a rational that “they are filling jobs nobody else wants.” With unemployment standing at about ten per cent, I don’t think that excuse still works.

The one cry I hear from opponents to this law is that of racial profiling. Aliens must carry identification when they are out in public. This strikes me as funny. I don’t know of anyone who doesn’t carry identification with them.

It isn’t that I don’t feel sympathy for suffering people – I do. But breaking the law and stealing from the government is not a good way to start a relationship. I’m beginning to feel like I’m being pushed – and worse, secretly scorned and laughed at.

And that is a mistake.

They have attracted my attention

The last I knew, laws were still being enacted and enforced in this country by the majority.

And the last I knew, that was still me ... and the Governor of Arizona ... and one or two other people..

Comments?


j

A NAKED GIRL WILL ATTRACT ATTENTION

Julie Morrison and I are now in day 23 of Script Frenzy. The story has evolved, having started with our only very vague guideline that a romance would evolve between the two central characters in a small independent film studio. (This is a contest, after all. Blah blah romance fills pages quickly, and with only blah blah thought required to ladle this stuff out.)

Yeah, well, from past experience I should have known better.

Julie has this great heart for the badly downtrodden. Before I knew it, we had battered women camped out in the second floor of our “studio.” To give depth to the pain women can go through, it’s revealed that our central female character has made some unwise decisions in the past. As a result – and without going into a lot of detail – she is kidnapped by a man she had crossed, and (at this point in the story) about to be forced into amateur porno films. Heavy stuff here. Heavy heavy heavy. (On the other hand, and taken completely out of context, Julie’s line “A naked girl will attract attention” seemed to me to be something of an understatement.)

So much for our blah blah shallow quickie romance story. Oh well, Jennifer Lopez probably wouldn’t be interested anyway.)

Now. Although my writing partner and I don’t suggest to each other what to write, we do exchange technical suggestions. (Her contributions encourage me to add depth to my writing – something that doesn’t come natural to any man. For my part, having worked most of my life in television, film, and theatre, I can offer technical details that give a story a bit more creditability.)

All this is background to the story I’m about to tell you – true story – about the time I was asked to direct a series of porno films. In reading a gazillion posts on lots and lots of blogs, I don’t recall that subject coming up very often, so you might find it interesting.

It was right after I had won my second Emmy, and I was riding pretty high. I was regularly directing regional sporting events on television, one network was interested in me, I was doing specials of every kind, and on the side producing/directing commercials for a large advertising agency. (If you are over 30 and watch television at all, you’ve seen some of them.)

I had worked with “Dan” and his crew from the agency for a couple of years. Once or twice a month they’d take over a studio after normal working hours and we’d crank out commercials until the sun came up (and employees started coming in.)

Dan and I got along great. After a session or two, I had learned what he was looking for in general, and we became part of a smooth and efficient team.

After one particularly long and difficult shoot, Dan and I were having breakfast together when he broached the subject of adult films.

“I’ve been producing films for about two years now,” he stated flatly.

“Porno,” I questioned.

“We call them Adult films,” he corrected.

“What happened to your old director,” I asked.

"He moved on,” I was told. No other information was asked or given.

Here was the offer. We would produce ten films in ten days. An empty building would be our studio, equipment would be rented from the agency, and we would start each evening at seven, and must be completed by sunrise the next day.

Dan would produce, I would direct, and the two techs – camera and audio – would come from the agency, in fact would be men I had worked with on several occasions. “Talent” would come from a waiting list at the mega university that in many ways dominates the capital city in this state.

I was to be paid $200 per night – not a great amount of money, but at the end of ten days I’d walk away with $2000, tax free. Similarly, the techs were to be paid $150 each. The female talent each night would earn $200, and her male partner would be unpaid.

That was it. I was impressed with how incredibly easy it all was.

I declined the offer. I would love to say I was filled with indignation, but I wasn’t. There was no indication that anyone involved was being forced in any way to participate. Money was the draw, and at that time in my life I didn’t have the moral or religious attitudes that would later influence my life.

So I said “no.” Overall I counted at least 25 people who would be involved in the total project, and I didn’t think that many people could keep a secret.

Dan accepted my decision graciously, and nothing more was said. Three years later he moved to Denver.

All this was a number of years ago, and until Julie and I started this work, I had totally forgotten about it. I don’t know, nor care, if the “business” continued or ended.

On the other hand, I’m impressed as to how easy it all appears to be.

Comments?


j

Day 19 of Script Frenzy. The last dozen or so pages are pretty good. Hmm. We may have something beyond blah blah blah. Wouldn't that be funny? 

 

Day 2 of holding auditions for Richard III. I can easily cast Lady Anne, Queen Elizabeth, and Queen Margaret. I still have no Richard and would like stronger male supporting characters. In the theatre there seems to always be more talented women than there are men. With the men I have so far, their female counterparts would eat them for breakfast.

   

Day 1. Are you kidding me? Is it that time of year already? A-a-a-h-h-h-h-h!!!!