AVENGER, VON DOOMER, AND DARK KNIGHT DETECTIVE

I used to live in a castle. Castle Von Doom. This was when I ran with wolves, always went over the limit (4 rocks and  a shot) and had many battles with the Dreaded Egg Lady of Yorkville. And one my my closest compatriots in these glorious salad days was Vinnie. We met during a production of Hamlet, which was being done as part of the fabled Shakespeare in the Park(ing) Lot. I was replacing another actor as the Player King, Fortinbras, and Bernardo. Vinnie was, among other roles, the Player Queen. One night early in the rehearsal process, Vinnie and I decided to grab a beer at Motor City, a bar on the at the time desolate Ludlow Street on the Lower East Side. We hadn't really hung out at all before, and figured what the hell? Instantly, we realized we were both uber-nerds with lots of interests in common- comic books, The Simspons, Weezer. We laughed our asses off for a long time that night. Many drinks into the evening, I announed to Vinnie that I had powers. Super powers. Vinnie did not believe me. I pointed to the only other person in the place, an attractive girl sitting at the bar, and started making "come to me" gestures, while also saying "come to me" over and over. Vinnie laughed, as did I. I turned back to Vinnie- who's face suddenly looked surprised- because the girl walked up to the table, and asked if she could sit with us. We said "Yes!" She told us her name was Ziggy. We nodded. She said she lived near there. We nodded. She left. Vinnie looked at me like I was crazy, asked me why I didn't leave with her- sadly, booze gives courage and stupidity in equal shares. I ran out of the bar- but Ziggy had vanished in the night. We decided she must have been a succubus, and I was lucky to be alive.

After that night, we were fast friends. Many nights we spent at rehearsal, at Motor City, and also literally jumping from roof top to rooftop, running across the FDR at sunrise after an all nighter, and working on some fantastic theatre- The Seagull, Henry V, Last Call. We quickly gave ourselves, and our circle of friends, many new names from different universes. In the DC universe, Vinnie was Batman, I was Superman. We figured out who would be which hero in both the Avengers, as well as the larger Marvel Universe. We were gloriously mad. We became room mates after about a year- Vinnie, me, and my brother Jerry. We named the place Castle Von Doom. The parties there were legendary. As time went on, we got a little older. I still remember, clear as a bell, taking a cab home one night after rehearsing Muse of Fire. Vinnie asked me what I thought about Shannon- a girl who he would go one to marry and who is one of the most excellent people in the world.

These days, we live far apart with families and all that. No matter. He is one of my best friends, and I know if I ever need him, all I need do is face the east and cry "Avengers Assemble!"

His birthday is today. Thanks, universe, for this wonder of a man.

And here's a link on the latest about ROSE RED and MOON OVER BUFFALO:
http://squeakystheatrepage.blogspot.com/2013/05/moon-rises-tonight-rose-blooms-in-june.html

RECKLESS AND INSANE

We open MOON OVER BUFFALO at the Wolf Theatre Academy at the Denver JCC this Wednesday. It's going well. No, it's going fantastically. What is really amazing is watching these young lions of the theatre figure the show out- to see their eyes grow wide when a comic moment occurs to them, they try it, and it works. I swear, sometimes I think I can see them literally grow taller on stage.  I learn so much from my students. I think the world would be a better place if everyone, for just a month, had to teach young people. Anyhow, we are having a blast, the show is hilarious, and the piece has a gigantic heart. The glee is palpable. The show itself is a love letter to theatre, to being brave and scared and inspired and crazy. Happily, everyone involved in the show loves the theatre as much, if not more, than I do. Every rehearsal, we find something new. Every rehearsal, someone takes a risk, finds a greater truth, and adds to the show. I think the essence of the show is said best in a monologue the character George has in Act Two. It goes like this:

"Think, woman! Think for a minute! Use your brain! Think of all the fun we have together. Rambling from town to town like minor royalty. Signing autographs and doing interviews. My God, you'll be laughing about my entrance as Cyrano for months! And think of the joy you give to thousands of people every week. As Amanda and Roxane. Lady Bracknell and Eliza Doolittle. Youre and actress, Charlotte. It's in your veins. If you were caught in the spotlight of a runaway train, you'd break in to a time step. It's a gift to be so reckless and insane. There are people out there in the darkness who are living through you. Dreaming of what they can be through your voice."

So if you are around Denver this week, come to the show and share the love, the joy, the reckless insanity. For details, click HERE.

MOON OVER THE J

I'm directing a production of Moon Over Buffalo at the Denver JCC right now. Most students call the JCC "the J", and I have picked up the habit. Nicknames are funny like that. They creep into your consciousness like ninjas, and before you know it, you have a new word in your vocabulary. I didn't consciously say to myself "I'm going to call the JCC the J". It just happened, and that was that. Nicknames are like that- someone makes an off-handed remark, calls someone or something by another name, it sticks, and next thing you know, a nickname is born. And you can't force them, or request people call you something and think it will work. I have a friend who once, when we were all younger and, if possible, goofier, announced that he wanted to be called Ace. It didn't happen. Not that you can't take a new name, a new persona, or whatever. It just has to stick. I have a student who for several weeks in the Fall would say, for comic effect, "I'm offended". I began to call her "Offended". She liked it, the name stuck, and that became her nickname. I myself have had many nicknames: Mick, Mac, Mackie-Doodle (my wife's favorite), and Mr. Squeaky- a name given to me by one of my all time best students ever, which stuck immediately and which a lot of young actors still think is my actual name.

But I digress. What I wanted to write about today is Moon Over Buffalo, and what it's like directing a backstage farce. But there is a connection, and that is the idea of things either sticking or not. In a farce, you try all sorts of bits- little moments that hopefully propel the show forward in a manner that is justified in the world of the play, intensifying the situation and upping the stakes. Some bits stick, some do not. We are finally getting to the point where things are sticking, jokes are getting funny, and characters are filling out. Comedy is a work out, and we are running our butts off in this one. One of the great joys of directing young people is when a show starts to click, and you see that they know it's starting to click. They stand taller. Their confidence explodes. And they begin taking risks on stage- which is vital in any production.

So now we have a show- a door slamming, frantic, fast paced comedy. We play May 8-12. Click HERE for tix.

And don't forget, if you are an aspiring young actor, to sign up for ROSE RED, which will be having a run in June at SOFA, with two casts- one ages 8-12, and one ages 12-18. Next auditions are May 13 & May 20, both from 5:30-7:30. Email info@offbroadwayfinearts.org for a slot.

And coming soon to your digital reader: APRIL'S FOOL.