MUST BE BEAUTIFUL IN VERMONT THIS TIME OF YEAR...

For many years, one of my holiday traditions was to watch the film White Christmas with my best friend Legume (also known as Brian, Honkey, the Judge, etc.). I've probably seen that film at least 50 times, because often I watch more than once per season. I can quote most of the lines- including the jazzy lingo supposedly improvised by Bing Crosby- and sing most of the songs. Not well, mind you- but so what? I love the movie, and it is inscribed in my brain. As such, I have avoided going to see any stage productions of Irving Berlin's White Christmas, mainly out of fear of comparing it in my head to the film and being sorely disappointed.



Happily, I decided to forgo that self-imposed rule and go see White Christmas at the Fine Arts Center in Colorado Springs. This decision was based largely on their impressive track record of exciting and pertinent theatre. I have never seen a bad show there. Ever. I am very glad to report that the FAC has done it yet again with a heart-warming, funny, exhilarating production. This is a great show, from start to finish- full of fantastic performances, wonderful music, and just the right amount of whimsy. If you can get a ticket- which will be hard- I highly recommend you go see it.

The show itself wisely is not a mere stage version of the beloved film, but a new take on the story rewritten by David Ives and Paul Blake from the original screenplay by Narman Krasna, Morman Panama, and Melvin Frank. Most of the story is there, but with enough variations to make it a brand new take on the classic tale. Several songs have been excised from the film version, and several other songs either expanded, or added- all to wonderful effect. I won't bother you with a story synopsis. Suffice to say, it's a heart-warming romantic comedy set mostly in 1954.

The cast is superb, top to bottom. Matt Gibson as Bob Wallace is outstanding, He sings like an angel and conveys a simple honesty perfect for the role. And as Phil Davis,  Zachary Seliquini Guzman is a wonder. He's hilarious, dances even better than Danny Kaye, and can sing the you-know-what out of any song. As Betty, the more practical of the Haynes sisters, Mackenzie Sherburne is outstanding. And Alannah Vaughn, as the more bubbly Judy Haynes, is a delight. Both ladies are amazing performers, with gorgeous voices. And they harmonize is that way that makes your spine tingle with joy. Jan Lennon, as busy body and show-stopping Martha Watson, is hilarious, strong, and a powerhouse singer. Mark Rubald, as General Waverly is outstanding. Rubald brings a quiet dignity and charm to the role, and turns in one of the shows best performances. As Jimmy, a curmudgeonly but lovable Vermont local, Mike Miller almost steals the show. I say almost, because the night I saw the show, Ellie Levy did steal the show- lock, stock, and barrel. Levy (who is alternating with Lena Olson in the role of Susan Waverly) is just a sweet heart of an actor, and every moment she was on stage rocked. The ensemble is outstanding- each and every performer sings, dances, and acts with incredible talent and energy.

The always amazing Nathan Halvorson directs and choreographs the show with style. The show moves at a perfect clip, and each number is sharp and leaves the audience wanting more. My particular favorite is Blue Sky, which closes out Act One. The band, led by Jay Hahn, is top notch.

So, to sum it up- this show shines on it's own merits, is a beautiful rendition of the stage version of the classic film, and a must see for anyone who loves good musical theatre.

God bless us, everyone.

WE MUST REJOICE OR WE WILL ALL GO MAD

There's this scene in the film Jesus' Son, where Billy Cruddup's character, a heroin addict with the charming name "Shit head", witnesses a car crash. Shit head is completely lost, and seeing something terrible happen. Yet even so, he takes a step back, and looks around at the road and the surrounding trees and the shine on the rain covered asphalt- and says something about how beautiful it all is.  It all, as I interpreted it, meaning the world.

I get that.

I think the world is beautiful. I think people often suck, that death is a drag, and that too often we
human beings make unbelievably stupid choices that result in destruction. And I find the world magnificent. At almost every moment.

Maybe I'm crazy.

I've been working on several different shows the past few months. I just helped a group of teen agers at a high school for troubled youth produce a play they created out of nothing in just six weeks. Some of these teens have already been arrested, or abused, or bullied- but somehow we managed to find a way to create something that we all cared about and were proud of- a play title "A World Gone Mad". Watching a group of people who have every right imaginable to be cynical find hope and glory and the insane giddiness of putting on costumes and speaking in front of others is, borrow a line from Ray Bradbury, a medicine for melancholy.

I have another medicine I want you all to take. It's called Lend Me A Tenor. 'Tis a farce by Ken Ludwig I am directing for Inspire/Creative that opens next weekend at the Old Schoolhouse Theatre in Parker. It's silly and stupid and improbable and revels in the lunatic aspect of existence. I have assembled a cast of magicians of the soul, and all they do is make me laugh at ever rehearsal. I love them and I love the show and I love being alive, so get your ass out to Parker and smile.

If you are short on scratch, we have a free preview Thursday November 12 at 7:30. Yeah, free. So what's your excuse now?

The world beats us up enough, don't help it in the task.

KISS MY BUCKET LIST

I have a long list of books to read, movies to watch, places to go. Things to do. Some are pretty easy to do, some will take a little more time. And yet, despite how simple or hard this things are, they all stay on that list, that Netflix queue of life. I have to read the third book in the Dark Materials series. I need to catch up on The Walking Dead. I must go to Macchu Picchu.

The longer I live, the longer the list gets. Sometimes this worries me. According to most, we humans are mortal and as such have to die someday.

I don't plan on doing that. But if I do, there will be way too many things on my list that I haven't gotten to, and that bugs me.

I can hear the many speakers at my funeral now. "He was a good man. Sadly, he never got through the first season of House of Cards. I mean, the first season! Not the third where things got a little too much, mind you, but the first! May we all learn from what could have been- what should have been but never was. Now let us pray."

The list is like Bilbo Baggins' road, going ever, ever on. Or like The Simpsons. I mean, shit! How can I even begin to assail this Neverending Story of things I must do? Was George telling the truth when he sang "the more one travels, the less one knows"? Was it George who sang that, or John? Suddenly, I'm not so sure. Point being, ignorance is bliss, and I am fairly blissless. There is no way in Hell I can read all the books I actually own, let alone all those books I was supposed to read in college and high school. Pride and Prejudice? How can I possibly read Jane Austin when I haven't even watched every single Twilight Zone or X-file? And don't even get me started about the friggin' Outer Limits. Oh, and what about the films of Kurosawa? Antonioni? All those French New Wave films?

Maybe I should become a hermit and study a blank wall for forty years or so. Find my inner zen, my humble pie that I could eat a la mode.

Or perhaps take up lycanthropy?

I have been told I was raised by wolves. Add that to the list: find my lupine parents.

Great. Just great.

WAIT UNTIL DARK, THEN GET YOURSELF TO THE FAC

The words that come to mind when I think of the Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center's current production of Wait Until Dark: exciting, breath-taking, scary, macabre. Also insightful, dramatic, and smart. And funny. Creepy. Fast paced. Unrelenting. Cool.

Suffice to say, I liked it quite a bit. Wait Until Dark starts out full of tension and menace- and ratchets it up from there. After a beautiful opening image of a figure silhouetted in a doorway, we are plunged headlong into a world of mystery and intrigue and terror. I don't want to give too much of the plot away, so I won't tell you what happens. What I can tell you is that in the story, over the course of less than twenty-four hours, we witness a blind woman named Susan's harrowing encounters with malice, cruelty, and deceit. As she deals with a series of bizarre encounters, she is forced to find a strength and resilience that she doesn't seem to sure exists at the start of the play. What makes the play work- and oh does it work- is not just the tightly written plot, the spectacular stage combat (more on that in a minute), or the scares- of which there are many. No, what makes this story work so well, especially as directed by the always amazing Scott Levy, are the nuanced and fully realized characters. Susan is a real, flawed, interesting woman. Her husband is a control freak with good intentions, and the bad guys are not merely mustache twirling villains or your typical hoodlums, but complex and strangely likable con men with varying degrees of psychosis. The play made me think of a Hitchcock film- full of suspense and anxiety and seemingly ordinary people thrown into intense extraordinary circumstances.

The direction of Mr. Levy is fast paced, exciting, and outright scary. He makes the creepiest use of a
closet door I have ever seen on stage. And the aforementioned stage combat, some performed in almost complete darkness, is terrifying. The fights are choreographed by Benaiah Anderson, and perfect- scary, realistic, and just the right length to scare the crap out of you while furthering the story. Not only did Mr. Levy get the best fight choreographer for this show, he also drew incredible performances out of his cast. Jessica Weaver is outstanding as Susan- at once vulnerable and strong, innocent and intelligent. As her overbearing husband Sam, Kyle Dean Steffen is perfect. At first, he comes off as a concerned, kind husband. But as we get to know him, his controlling personality comes seeping out. As the somewhat more comic of the criminals, Micah Speirs is hilarious. And Michael Lee- who played a fantastic Renfield in FAC's outstanding Dracula last season- is perfection as Roat, a role that calls for a wide range, a quick mind, and a razor sharp sense of timing- all of which Mr. Lee has in spades. Adam Laupus, as Sam's war buddy Mike, is amazing. His character goes on quite a trajectory, and Laupus handles him expertly.  Rounding out the cast is Mallory Hybl as Gloria, the annoying kid who lives upstairs. Ms. Hybl is fantastic- believable and funny.

As usual at the FAC, the technical aspects of this production are works of art. The set, by Brian Mallgrave, is gorgeous. It sets up a perfect sets up the perfect sense of a home that is a bit claustrophobic. The lights by Holly Anne Rawls perfectly accompany this beauty of set, and the costumes by Janson Fangio are just right- evoking both a time and place, but also the essence of each character.

If you are looking for something fun to do this Halloween weekend, go see this show! Wait Until Dark is a glorious night of theatre, and not to be missed.

FAC PUTS IT TOGETHER PERFECTLY

Well, they've done it again. The Theatre at the Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center, under the exceptional leadership of Artistic Director Scott RC Levy and the fantastic direction and choreography of FAC Associate Director of Performing Arts Nathan Halvorson, has mounted yet another outstanding show. This time, it's Stephen Sondheim's Putting It Together. My short review: It's freaking brilliant, and you need to see it. Get online and buy your tickets right now. Go ahead. I'll wait.

Putting It Together is a revue of around thirty songs by Stephen Sondheim, whom many consider to be the greatest living composer for musical theatre. Don't take my word for it.  “Stephen Sondheim has written some of the best musical theatre of the last 50 years,” says Performing Arts Director Scott RC Levy, “and will go down in history as one of the most important American composers of the 20th Century. The FAC has a strong history of producing his work, and when thinking of which show of his to do next, I thought of this piece, which features so much of his beautiful music from pieces throughout his career.” For those Philistines unfamiliar with him, Sondheim started out writing the lyrics for West Side Story and Gypsy, and went on to do both music and lyrics for such classic shows at A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, A Little Night Music, Sweeney Todd, and Into the Woods. If you don't know any of those shows- stop reading this and go see one of them. Now. I am sure, no matter where you live in America, you can find a production of at least one of Sondheim's shows that is within driving distance. (If you live in Alaska, you can watch the movies of the four shows I just mentioned.) Again, I'll wait.

Putting It Together takes place at a cocktail party where five people examine each other, their relationships, and their lives. The five characters are the Husband, the Wife, the Younger Man, the Younger Woman, and the Other Man. Over the course of the party they slowly reveal their hopes and regrets, along with dreams deferred. And worse than the dreams that didn't come true are the dreams that became realities, but didn't meet expectations. As you can probably tell, this is not a show about bunnies and happiness and skipping along singing tra la la. But I like a little meat to my entertainment, a little bit of reality and intelligence and understanding of the human spirit. It's like Steinbeck said in East of Eden: Life made to look beautiful to the weak and the foolish teaches nothing, cures nothing, and does not allow the heart to soar.

Putting It Together features an all-star cast: Max Ferguson, Sally Hybl, Jordan Leigh, Scott RC Levy and Mackenzie Sherburne. They are all first rate performers. They not only have beautiful singing voices, the have a certain depth of emotion that allows them to fully interpret these complex, at times hilarious, at other times harrowing songs. FAC stalwart Max Ferguson is perfectly cast as the at times obnoxious, at times confused Younger Man. He exudes a desire to be manly along with an innocent charm, and infuses that mix perfectly in songs like Marry Me a Little.  Mackenzie Sherburne, as the sultry Younger Woman, is sublime. Her performance of The Miller's Son (from A Little Night Music) is superb. It's a haunting, funny, sad song that requires both the pipes of a great singer and the intelligence of a great actor, and Sherburne has plenty of both. Scott RC Levy is hilarious as the other man ( a role originated by Christopher Durang). He opens the show with a perfect rendition of Invocation and Instructions to the Audience, which is a riff on the now standard opening speech given before most theatrical productions. And Levy's practically stops the show with his explosive performance of I Could Drive a Person Crazy. As the married couple, Jordan Leigh and Sally Hybl are a revelation. They are just perfect. There is never a moment when either of them are on stage that you don't watch their every move. They play that all too familiar unhappy couple who dig at each other behind weary smiles, full of passive aggression and resentment- but also a deep yearning for connection. In act one, they sing the duet Country House, from Follies- and it's electric. Watching that number was like being at a party where a couple gets into a nasty fight, and it's awkward and strange and you don't know whether to leave, make a joke, or cry. And in act two, we get treated to Leigh signing Sorry-Grateful and Hybl singing I'm Not Getting Married Today. These are two of the best performers I have ever seen, in Colorado or New York or anywhere- and to be able to see performers of that caliber sing songs of that greatness is insane and rare and glorious. 

Nathan Halvorson directed and choreographed,
and clearly brought out the best of each member of the cast. He moves the show along at a brisk pace, and brings enough levity to never let it get too bogged down in tragedy. And the band! Oh my God the Band! According to the program there were only four musicians playing- but I could have sworn it was an entire orchestra. Sharon Skidgel conducts this amazing group of artists, and provides piano as well. (I think she might be either a mutant or from another planet, because it's impossible to be that good). The set, by Christopher L. Sheley,  is both simple and elegant; the costumes by Janson Fangio are subtle and excellent; and the lights by Holly Anne Rawls are gorgeous- theatrical and full of color but never detracting from the action on stage.

All in all, an exhilarating, funny, thought provoking show. Now go see it! Here are the details:

PUTTING IT TOGETHER
When: 7:30p Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays; 2p Sundays, running Sept 10-27
Where: Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center, 30 W. Dale St.
Tickets: Starting at $20; 634-5583, csfineartscenter.org
Something else: Pay-as-You-Wish dress rehearsal at 7:30p Sept 9; Backstage Tour on Sept 24, free with paid admission; talkback with the performers following the final performance on Sept 27
Another thing: Their new restaurant Taste will be open for pre-theatre dining. Make reservations at 719.634.5583. We ate there before the show and it was fabulous.

TV MADE ME A CRYPTOZOOLOGIST

When I was a kid, I wanted- more than anything else- to see something supernatural. A ghost, Bigfoot, a UFO. Something.  At night, I would scan the skies. When camping, I would listen keenly for something large lumbering through the Sierra Nevada.

I blame TV.

Every Friday night, on KTVU Channel 2- which at the time was what we used to call an independent station- there was a show called Creature Features, hosted by Bob Wilkins. Creature Features was a double feature of horror movies hosted by Mr. Wilkins; who always provided a mix of wry commentary and cool info, things to notice in whatever movie we watched, and so on. I saw all the classic horror flicks, along with lots of not-so-classic ones. A typical evening's fare would be Frankenstein, followed by House of Frankenstein. Or Them! followed by Tarantula. Usually there would be a thematic link between the two. The big goal when watching Creature Features was to stay awake to the end of the second feature, which would usually end at around two in the morning. Not always easy to do, but I tried. This show was the must-have-on-in-the-background for any sleepover or slumber party. By third grade, I was well versed in vampires, mad scientists, demons, and all things that go bump boom bang in the night.

One movie that caught my imagination was The Legend of Boggy Creek- a sort of documentary about a sort of Bigfoot that was sort of scary. But the idea of an unexplained beast roaming the land was beyond exhilarating to me. I remember, clear as a bell, discussing the film with my friend Noel during recess at Strawberry Park Elementary. There was no doubt in either of our minds that the beast existed- that was a given. I think the scene that both amused and terrified us the most was the one where the monster was trying to break into this one guy's house while he was sitting on the toilet. How many films are there that are educational, frightening, and hilarious? Truly, this was one for the ages- a film destined to be spoken of with reverence. All I wanted to do after watching that flick was get myself a movie camera and a van and get myself to Boggy Creek to investigate this thing. Being around nine, this wasn't plausible, so I had to content myself with research at the local branch of the public library- a small building nestled between an ancient barn that had been abandoned for as long as anyone could remember, and a peach orchard. It had that funky architecture style so common in the early 1970's- a hybrid of ugly and Frank Lloyd Wright. It also had a whole set of shelves with books dedicated to the paranormal. I remember reading most of The Mothman Prophecies there one afternoon. There were lots of other books, with photos of ghosts, UFO's, and the Loch Ness Monster. I loved them all.

And then there was a documentary on regular tv, hosted by Rod Serling. It was called Monsters! Mysteries or Myths? This was the first "serious" documentary about aliens, Bigfoot, and Nessie every shown on national tv. And it was a huge hit, and paved the way for such shows as In Search of..., which in turn led us to such fare as Monsterquest and, my current favorite, Finding Bigfoot.

I love Bigfoot. I love Sasquatch, Yeti, the Ohio Grassman. Whatever you want to call it. I love the unknown, the unexplained, and things from somewhere else. My latest script is a pilot for a tv series about an unlikely pair who investigate the great mysteries of America. What a shock.

I even made a mockumentary, highly inspired by Finding Bigfoot, while in Wisconsin. Here are the results. (my beautiful co-star is my wife Lisa)

 

 

But wait, there's more:

 

 



And that's about all I have to say about that.

For the moment.

BLINK TWICE AND IT'S GONE

Up early, walking the dog, rearranging the garage, listening to the Drowsy Chaperone on my iPhone as I do all this, getting ready for two productions of this show I'll be directing in the Fall. And as I walk around my neighborhood in the cool, Autumn-is-on-it's-way air, I am struck by a thought- well, lots of thoughts, all bundled together in the colors of the leaves, the mist from sprinklers, the sound of a group of birds taking flight when I get to close. The thoughts, in no particular order: Life is infinitely long and shockingly short; this world is indeed full of beautiful things and we miss most of them most of the time; I have a lot of shows coming up (Little Mermaid at Reel Kids, Lend Me a Tenor at Inspire/Creative, Drowsy Chaperone at the JCC, Glee at StageDoor, a student created show at the Logan School, Honk! also at the Logan School, and another student created show at Englewood's Finest High School); I have a lot of writing to do (another pass on Ghostlight, Boogie Man, who knows what else); and blah blah blah.



I have a lot going on. As do we all. And I could freak out and stand still and be paralyzed. But I'm not. I feel almost obscenely serene. I'm alive. I get to do what I love. I have a wife, a home, a dog. I am so lucky. Yes, money can be tight. And friends and family have problems of all shapes and sizes. And not every studio is knocking on my door clamoring for a screenplay. So what? I am here. I am relatively safe, when you consider how a lot of the people in this world have to live. I think, even if I were a mayfly and lived for just a day, I would be happy. Maybe I'm a moron.

Point is: I dig being alive, and I can't help it. I have had worse breaks than some, better breaks than others. It is a miracle to be alive at all, and so I smile.

Now, here is something awesome that one of my former students made. He is hilarious and brilliant and I fully expect to see his name in lights, or read about his arrest.

I think that is awesome.

Also, if you are an actor in the Denver area, the Lend Me a Tenor production I'm directing for Inspire/Creative in Parker is a paid gig. Sign up for auditions HERE.

And buy some of my plays for a very reasonable price HERE.

That's it. Have to go clean the bathroom, fold some clothes, vacuum, and then go to final dress and performance of Alice in Wonderland at the Denver JCC.

Life.

KEEP WRITING

The best- the only- advice a writers needs. Keep writing. All other ideas, advice, changes, breakthroughs, innovations, edits- the whole enchilada, if you will- only happen when you take that first bit of advice.

Read others people's stuff. Write in a journal. Cut the first two lines and the last two lines of each scene. Make sure the character has a flaw. Keep the pace moving.

Whatever.

Just keep writing. Nothing else really matters.

Even when you don't want to.

Especially when you don't want to.

After you have gone through all your excuses, your other things that must be done- walking the dog, watering the plants, calling that friend you haven't spoken to in years, checking the scores, rearranging the refrigerator.

Keep writing.

After you have read what you've got so far at least fifty times. After you've stared at the screen and gone into a sort of coma and snap out of it not sure where in the story you are, or if it is worth anything to anyone, ever in the history of time.

After you've asked friends, family, strangers, everyone in every social network you belong to and anyone else you can get a hold of to read it.

Keep writing.

Tom Wolfe once wrote that in a copy of Hooking Up for me. "Kelly, Keep Writing, Tom."

Taft Miller, the Teiresias of Salinas, was one of the most amazing people I ever knew. He was an actor, a director, a friend, a mystic- a force of nature who had gone blind shortly after I knew him and was quite ill, but always full of energy and life. He directed me in East of Eden. When I wrote a bunch of screeds about whatever was on my mind and called them "Memos from the Underground" and placed them, anonymously, in people's mail slots at The Western Stage, Taft was the only person who immediately knew it was me. And he dug it, told me to keep it up and asked if I needed any help with printing copies.

I loved Taft.

When I got word he was dying, I called his hospital room. Joyce, his lover and another amazing person I was very lucky to have in my life, got on the phone. She was crying, and Taft couldn't really talk- but I heard him in the background ask her who was on the line. "Kelly", she said. And I heard Taft say "Keep Writing".

Last words he said to me in this world.

Keep writing.

Keep keep keep writing.

Amen and hallelujah and amen again.

A NUMINOUS BOOGIE MAN

I'm working on a new script- a pilot for a tv series that for the moment I am calling Boogie Man. It's a  character driven paranormal show that examines America through our many myths and legends. Let's face it- we love horror. There is a reason that thrillers are the most greenlit movies out there. They make money! Hand over fist, day after day, year after year, we fork over our hard earned, meager wages to watch ghosts and ghouls and creepy dolls terrorize what we pretend are average Americans. It is what we do, for the most part.



Don't like scary movies- that's cool, but I hope you realize you are in the minority. And kind of un-American.

One of the things I like about being scared is the rush- the adrenaline ka-pow! feeling when the clown attacks from under the bed, or the decapitated head pops out of the boat. That immediate, in-the-moment realization that for a least this second, I am alive and fear for my life. And then I get the added bonus of realizing that I am in a theatre, or in front of our tv, and not going to be eaten by a zombie anytime soon.

But I think there's more. It seems to me that we recreate our own mythology on a constant basis, a pantheon filled with the likes of Jason and Saw and voracious aliens and gigantic dinosaurs.  We have to- we need to have the Unknown, the mystical, the I don't-what-the-hell-that-is-but-I-know-it's-there feeling. We need the dark. There is something magic, something Other in the dark- and I dig that the most. The Other. The magical things, that fill us with wonder for reasons we can't really explain but remind us there are more things in heaven and Earth than our little lives. I want to make stories that not only terrify, but also remind us of the majesty and mystery of this big freak out called life. I want the numinous.

This is clear if you look at anything I've written. I have ghosts, muses, a woman with a psychic sense of smell, and the trickster god Raven, among other things, in my plays. I am a magic realist. Or, as they call me in Brazil, a poetic realist. (you can find out more about my plays by clicking here or here)

I also want the comical. I want Cabin in the Woods, and the original Evil Dead films. I want people like Tobe Hooper and Stephen King and Kurt Vonnegut to shake me up. I want a horror story where suddenly werewolves are singing Good Morning Starshine on rooftops and it makes complete sense. I want the wide open sky to fill with demons, and the land to be covered with aliens, and then have it be like a huge middle school dance, with nobody dancing and everyone watching everyone else with a mix of desire and contempt.

Anyhow.

Here's what I have for the show. Jack Cro'Haven is the obnoxious host of a paranormal reality series called Boogie Man. In the pilot, a young gay couple are killed by the Ghost Bride of Cumberland Falls- a real life legend in Kentucky. The Boogie Man show investigates. Jack and his crew hold a town meeting, just like they do in every episode of Finding Bigfoot. During the time meeting, Jack meets Casey, a deeply religious, painfully shy young woman who, quite unbeknownst to herself, has amazing psychic abilities. At the same time, a bunch of fanatics similar to those morons who go to soldier funerals with signs that say things like "God hates fags" shows up and do what they do. Things get ugly. Beliefs are tested, shook up, shattered, and put back together. Casey has her world shaken up by Jack. Jack is given a glimpse of the numinous by Casey. By the end of the episode, the murder is, if not solved, dealt with as best as can be. Jack and Casey set off to see what more they can do for each other, and what other monsters, myths, and legends they can explore.

It might be great. It might suck. But I'm in.

PS- if you are a studio executive reading this- contact me immediately and start paying me money for this stuff. I will be able to write more often if I get paid for it.

FINDING IS LOSING SOMETHING ELSE

That's a quote from Richard Brautigan, who was this writer. My mom loved that particular quote. The whole line, which she said often, was "Finding is losing something else. I think about, perhaps even mourn, what I lost to gain this." I don't know if that is the actual quote. That's just how Mom said it. She also would often say "From the Mud Grows the Lotus." I think that might be the title of my autobiography. Of course, that implies that I have achieved lotushood, which is not really up to me to say. I, like Popeye, am what I am.

For those keeping score, you have no doubt noticed that I am writing on this blog a lot more. There are several reasons for this. First, I feel better when I write- in my journal, with my scripts, on this blog. It purifies my soul somehow. I often think of all these thoughts in my head as living beings, that if I don't get out of my head and onto the page/screen will die inside of me and poison my system. So I do it to stay alive.

Also, there is no shortage of other voices out there saying all sorts of things- and I think that is good. I prefer a species that speaks its mind to a society of statues.

Today, I was going over different images I want projected onto the back of the set for the upcoming production of Honk! at Reel Kids. I was googling this and that, looking at semi-cute drawings and such, when I thought of this painting of a field at the Met in New York. It's one of my all time favorites. It's a sunset, and there are workers in a hay field, and this one is standing and looking at the sunset, with her back to us. She is just so caught up in the sunset or whatever is on her mind, and she is part of the sunset and the field and it's beautiful. Whenever I'm at the Met, I go to see her, along with Joan of Arc and this one Socrates that is my buddy Jack's favorite.



So anyway, I decided that all the projections will be Impressionist paintings of farms and fields and
water lilies. And for the Cat's place, I'm using one of Vincent Van Gogh's bleak paintings of a sad little room. It feels right. I think I am an instinctual creator first and foremost. I leap in, then find form and clean up after. It's how I roll. How I shake and rattle too, for that matter.

I find things, I lose things, and hopefully grow from the mud.

SOMETIMES A GREAT NOTION

So this morning, at the sort of early Eight-thirty call time, my young cast of Honk! at Reel Kids was looking bleary eyed, half-asleep, and in need of some energy. Usually, we start rehearsals with a quick physical and vocal warm up, followed with some improv. That way all three of our basic tools- voice, body, and mind- are ready to work. (Part of my training at San Jose State University, which we all had drilled into our brains, was that an actor's job is to "create a believable character in a given situation using their voice, body, and mind)

But this morning, it was clear something different was called for- something new and fun and that would knock us all out of ourselves. Too often in this life, I think we all sort of sleep walk our way through the day, barely aware of all the wonders that surround us. Yes, I know, there are plenty of mundane things out there, so try and keep your eye rolling to a minimum. There is magic in this world, numinous experiences patiently waiting for us to get with it and live in the moment, even if it's just for a few seconds.

Just across the street from Reel Kids there is this park with a path encircling the grounds. It's about half a mile long. I decided to forgo the usual warm ups, and we all went for a walk on the path- and sang the first several songs from the show. It was great. We took a walk together. We sang in public, and I don't know if it was the novelty of the moment, the weariness of the cast, or their bravery- but nobody seemed the least bit self-conscious about performing songs from a musical based on the Ugly Duckling.

I don't know if this was brilliant or boring. But I felt alive. I think we all did. And that was groovy.

WORK WORK WORK

So I am busy a lot. I direct shows all over, write as often as I can, teach in many places, and am actively pursuing selling my screenplays.


Right now, I am directing the musical Honk! at Reel Kids, and next week I start a production of Avenue Q there as well. (slots are still open, if you are a teen ager and want to do a show with dirty jokes, puppets, and awesome songs) I am also in pre-production for Lend Me a Tenor with Inspire/Creative in Parker. This is a show with adults, and my first full production down there and I am very excited. I am also gearing up for a production of the Drowsy Chaperone at the Wolf Theatre at the Denver JCC which starts in September.  I am also getting ready to create a brand new show with a group of young artists at the Logan School, where I will be teaching this coming year. And I will also be doing a Glee inspired show up at StageDoor in Conifer to round out my fall/winter session.

Writing wise, I am working on a new pilot called Boogie Man, a paranormal series that is part homage, part parody of all the semi-reality based shows out there about ghosts, Bigfoot, Aliens, and the like. I am also adapting my book for the musical Rose Red (which was just produced in Ohio, making a total of four full productions so far) into a screenplay. I am also currently shopping my feature screenplays Burning the Old Man and Ghostlight to managers, agents, and production companies. There have been several script requests, which is awesome- but no solid offers yet. I stress the yet.

Teaching: like I said, I will be teaching drama at the Logan School, as well as doing a multi-media class at The Finest High School, an alternative high school in Evergreen Village. And I will also be teaching film at Reel Kids. Oh! Almost forgot- I'll also be directing a production of The Little Mermaid there this Fall. And there is a good chance I'll be doing some playwriting workshops for the Denver Center as well.

Delicious.

What is there to do, but take a walk with the dog everyday, take advantage of my three free months of Apple Music and listen to as much music as I can (already doing that and have found lots of good tunes, like Le Femme D'argent by Air, Elevator Operator by Courtney Barnett, and Astral Weeks by Van Morrison), read some good books (currently on a Patton Oswalt kick) and watch good movies like Me & Earl & the Dying Girl, and good tv shows like Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, and hold my wife a lot, and breathe, and remember this is the only life I get and it is way better than being born a bit of dust out by Pluto or something.

Poem I Wrote for Jack

Sometimes, I think my brain is like that scene in Poltergeist when Craig T. Nelson takes the paranormal investigators to the kids room- the one where one of the investigators tells him that he once, on a time lapse video, got a sponge moving several inches- to which Nelson looks extremely unimpressed. Nelson then opens the door to the kids room, the room where Carol Ann disappeared, and the investigators see all sorts of debris flying around the room- books flapping like birds, a kids vinyl LP that connects with a writing compass and impossibly begins to play, a light bulb that flies into the socket of a lamp and turns itself on, and a Hulk doll riding a toy horse like he's a little Teddy Roosevelt on San Juan Hill.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=fntf6IpPOVI

That's my brain. All these disparate items, flying in a funky, magic, sort of malevolent vortex, creating crazy-logic that is both amusing and creepy.

Anyhow.

So Halpin me a poem the other day and I sent one back.

Here 'tis:

Could you find me?

Anew, anow,  anonymous

And wondrous and full of daffodils

I walk walk walk to the empty old barn, 

Remnant of times past but not dead, no

Not dead, alive with the imagined ghosts 

In the fragrant Oldewood 

And sword fights on the library sign 

With limbs from the local peach trees –

Falling backwards in the 

BlossomLandTime

Of Slurpee cups and that Book

Of Cryptozoological goodness

The sky is always blue always cloudy

always always always always always

Playing a Van Morrison song

I've never heard and know by heart and I

am there and I am here and we are

the walrus we are the night we are always are

dancing leaping smiling frowning

I have the Sword of Shannarra!

I they we you you you where did it go

where are those peach trees now

where are those mad members of

the secret society of forgotten forms–

the wild ones? 

And we go marching on.  

 

 

 

 

ROUGH WRITERS IN THE SPRINGS

Well, the theatre at the Fine Arts Center in Colorado Springs has given us yet another reason to get to the Springs. This time, it's their latest installation of Rough Writers, a play festival presenting staged readings of new works. This is a chance to see brand new work by playwrights at various stages in their careers, in a beautiful space in a wonderful town. There are many different plays you to see- one acts and full lengths, large and small casts- take your pick. And you can either buy one ticket to one reading, or for twenty dollars, see as many readings as you want. Twenty dollars. You know, the price of a couple of movie tickets, or a couple of drinks at Starbucks. And for that same twenty dollars, you can take part in the creation of a new show. How are you a part of it? Well, when the new plays are read, the playwright is there- listening to the audience and their reaction. For a playwright, this is a scary and wonderful experience- and vital to the process. When you write a play, you sort of live in a bubble- which is important. You need to keep your baby safe, and help it grow. But there comes a time in every play's life when it needs to be exposed to the world outside- thus, the staged reading. You watch and pace and panic, and observe what lands with the audience, what makes them gasp, or laugh, or yawn with boredom. And then you adjust. And often, at the readings, there are talk backs- a time when the audience is asked for comments and questions. These can be rough for a writer, but also quite informative. Sometimes, the comments are brilliant. Sometimes, not so much. Either way, sitting in a room with a bunch of fellow human beings, hashing
out what did and did not work on a new play is exciting, unique, and essential for any fan of theatre. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. I've done many readings at many festivals- including this one. My play April's Fool had it's first reading at Rough Writers before going on to its world premiere last summer at the New York International Fringe Festival. Those readings were essential in the play's development.

The plays and playwrights in this year's festival are: Jade O'Keeffe (who may or may not be related to Georgia O'Keeffe) and her play Two Nine One Letters; Alyson Mead and her play The Flower; Susan Shafer and her play A Woman on Paper; Sue Bachman and her play Georgia on His Mind; Grant Swenson and his play Mary and Georgia; Todd Wallinger and his play The Real Meaning of Things; Jessica Weaver and her play The Last Rabbit; and Dara O'Brien and her play Early Sunday Morning.



And that's happening right now at the FAC.

All the shows are thematically linked to Georgia O'Keeffe, in anticipation of the center's upcoming exhibit on her- for more on that, click HERE. Some are about her, some are about her paintings and how they have touched people's lives. What's really interesting is to see all these different takes on O'Keefe- how this one subject has sent so many writers on so many different trajectories with their plays.

So- if you live on Planet Earth, and like being entertained, and also like being part of something amazing, get your self to the Fine Arts Center in Colorado Springs. The festival continues through June 13.

For more info, and how to order tickets to this exceptional festival, click HERE.

LET'S HAVE A BAKE SALE!

So, I got back on the horse, and am acting in a show. You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown to be exact. It's a benefit performance for Reel Kids, one of the many places in Colorado where I teach. I play Charlie Brown-  role I have always loved, and I must admit, it's pretty awesome being on stage again after over ten years. I've always loved this play, and we do a pretty damn good job with it.

It's a little tough to get through the song Happiness every performance. The song always makes me think of my mom- I was working on a children's production of the show when she died, and every time we do it, I feel the absence, the hole that only your mother can leave once she heads for parts unknown.

We have one more performance, tonight at 7 pm, so if you are anywhere near Superior, CO, come on over and check it out. There is a cocktail hour before the show, with drinks and treats. Proceeds from the show will go towards getting a new camera for the school, which we desperately need.

And the show kicks it in the ass.

DEMON WEED IN COLORADO SPRINGS!

WARNING:Reefer Madness the Musical, now playing at the Fine Arts Center in Colorado Springs, will get you high, baby. Can you dig it? High on life. High on great music, exciting choreography, brilliant design. High on watching amazing performers deliver with aplomb a fantastic, inventive show based on a hilariously out of whack cautionary movie from 1936 about the evils of the devil weed. Put simply, it will freak you out in the best way possible- and that ain't no jive.

The musical is presented as a mockumentary of sorts, complete with overly earnest narrator, or Lecturer, speaking directly to the audience about the terrible "facts" of marijuana and how the stuff is destroying the youth of America. The Lecturer tells us the infamous story of Jimmy Harper and Mary Lane, who of course have their lives turned upside down, irrevocably ruined, by the demon weed. When we meet Jimmy and Mary- played to perfection by Andrew Wilkes and Chelsea Ringer- they are your typical suburban couple from the 1930's. Or rather, what was thought to be your ideal young white couple of that time. Jimmy and Mary are happy, peppy, and bursting with love- until Jimmy meets the evil Jack, who introduces him to the dreaded reefer. Soon enough, Jimmy is getting high, partaking in orgies, and hanging out with his fellow degenerates at Jack's place. Things go further South from there. The plot itself is hilarious, and I don't want to give too much away- suffice to say that things don't turn out so well for Jimmy and Mary. Along their tragic path, we meet Mae, the weed addict with a heart of gold and a voice like an angel's. Caren Tackett plays Mae, and she is flat out stunning- her comic timing is impeccable, and her singing sends chills of ecstasy down your spine. We also meet the demented Ralph, another weed-fiend played by a very funny Kevin Pierce. The sexpot at the den of iniquity is Sally, a sassy Rebecca Myers who lights up the stage every moment she's on it. We also get two numbers featuring the Son of Man Himself, Jesus. Jesus, and the evil Jack, are both played by Kenton Fridley- and let me tell you, this guy is the real deal. I really don't know how they can find so many talented people at the FAC, but somehow, they do. Every last member of the cast is excellent- Becca Vervoulas as the girl who brings out various placards with messages about how marijuana can make you do bad things like cannibalize your friends, and the ensemble of Alex Campbell, Nathan Ferrick, Sammy Gleason, and Omid Dastan Harrison are all perfect- they dance and sing and play a variety of outrageous characters with a glee that is infections and as addictive as the demon weed itself. And special mention must be given to Max Ferguson, who plays the Lecturer, who leads this madcap cast of lunatics with style and energy. Seriously, this cast is one of the best ensembles I have ever seen.

The choreography and direction by Nathan Halvorson is outstanding- moving at a break-neck pace, full of surprises and inventiveness and a sort of giddiness that makes you happy to be alive. The set, by Kevin Loeffler, is beautiful and just twisted enough to make you know that the world the show is presenting is a bit off-kilter. The costumes are stellar- giving us everything from your typical teenagers at the Five-and-Dime dancing a jitterbug, to hallucinatory reefer-zombies, a randy Devil, the aforementioned Jesus with a cadre of back-up angels, and semi-nude participants in the outrageous orgy scene. Perfectly matching the set and costumes in tone are the colorful lights by designer Jonathan Spencer. And the band, led by Ian Ferguson, is top notch. Every element of this show is perfect.

So, if you like smart, exciting, ground-breaking theatre that keeps you leaning forward, laughing and clapping, Reefer Madness at the FAC in Colorado Springs is the show for you. Once again, Scott Levy has put together the best theatre in the state, as is his habit.

And, if you can get a ticket to the March 1 show, you can meet the show's composer Dan Studney!

Want to see and hear more about the show? Click HERE for a short video!

LOST SOULS

LOST SOULS

We used to call cricketts

Souls

My brother, sister, and I.

At night on a full Moon,
I would look out my window
and see silohuettes of
cats and trees
(and the red light
of a cigarette)

against the deep blue sky.

Whispers passed between us,
questions for my older brother to answer-
                             
                                -which he always did.

Slowly the night would swallow us whole,
and for an
infinite moment,
I lost all sense

of up or down.

I was
(not flying but)
careening,
afraid I would never come back.

How long this lasted
I do not know.

Then I would hear the souls,
Singing in the night
Admiring the moon
Whispering to each other
Drawing me
Home

and I would sleep,
safe and content,
Protected by their music.

Now, I no longer need
To shut my eyes to lose
my senses.

Every day I am
(not careening but)
floundering.

Lost.

And I must listen,
must learn to hear again,

The Souls,

admiring the Moon,

I must learn again,
to let the living violins
carry me Home,

And caress my
Worried heart.