MAKE YOUR BOTTOM MORE APPEALING

That's not advice from the latest exercise guru, it's a line from my play LOVERS, LUNATICS, AND POETS, which just got published by PLAYSCRIPTS, INC.  The play is the direct result of a writing contest; and also of my long-standing love affair with the theatre. The contest put on by Playscripts, inc. and called  Pitch-n-Play, and was in two parts. In part one, people were asked to tweet a pitch, or idea, for a new play that was somehow connected to the line "the course of true love never did run smooth" from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. My winning pitch was "real life Puck messes with teens in high school prod of Misdummer Night's Dream". That pitch, along with two others, won the first part of the contest.  In the second part, people wrote short plays based on any of the three winning pitches. I decided to write a play on my own pitch. And while it didn't win the grand prize, the very wise folks at Playscripts decided it was so good that they would publish it anyway. And as of last week, it is available to the general public to read, perform, quote from at parties, etc. It's perfect for high schools, actually. It's set entirely on the stage of a high school theatre, has a cast of 16-20 with 11-15 female roles and 5-9 males. And of course, it's hilarious.

I wrote the play quickly, drawing on my own experience in high school theatre, a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream that my brother and sister were in when I was in 8th grade, and from a production I was in when I went to San Jose State University. Wow- I just realized that I saw my first production of that play over 30 years ago. How the hell can that be? I can see it so clearly in my head. There's my brother in a bad toga playing Aegeus with intensity and style. To me, it was like magic how he transformed himself from high school senior into cranky old man. And there's my sister Heather stealing the show as Tom Snout- a role she was bummed about when she got cast, but one that she embraced and triumphed in- which was infinitely cool to watch happen. Snout is  one of the rude mechanicals who plays the wall in Pyramus and Thisbe, the play-within-the-play that some people think is the most actor-proof scene ever written- meaning that no matter how bad your actors are, that scene always works. Which is kind of true. But I've seen some folks try their best.

I'm realizing more and more, as I write this, how vital that show is to my life in the theatre. I remember going to rehearsals of the production my siblings were in at Blackford High School as the tag-along younger brother, and watching all those cool older kids on stage, and being completely taken in by how fun it all looked. And every now and then, a little spark of magic would happen, and I'd catch my breath and wish I was up there, leaping about and speaking in verse. By the time that show opened, I was hooked. I wasn't any good yet, but I wanted to get up there and do some things, speak some lines, touch a little of the rough magic that seemed to course between and through all those actors on stage in the auditorium/lunch room that served as the theatre in our high school.

Years later, I was a junior in college at San Jose State University. Undeclared, not sure of what to do with myself- or rather, not clear with myself, not honest. But that year, things changed. I had done a few shows my first two years, gotten some small parts in some, worked backstage in others. But then, the mafia was formed. The mafia- that's was the nickname given to a bunch of us at SJSU that year.  I'm not sure how, but what happened was several of the drama majors- including my brother and sister- decided to do some of their own work at SJSU. One acts, student productions in the studio, that kind of thing. And I went along for the ride.  I think it really kicked into gear during a production of Tennessee Williams Night of the Iguana, and was solidified when we did a production of A Marowitz Hamlet at City Lights, the experimental theatre in San Jose. It was directed by Jon Selover, and had a cast that included my brother Jerry as Clown/Polonius, my sister Heather as one of three Ophelias, Donna Federico as Gertrude, Rob Langeder as Rosencrantz or Guildenstern, and somehow I got the role of Laertes. It was weird and wonderful and profound.

And instrumental in my learning about theatre and all it's possibilities. By the end of that show, I considered myself an actor. A member of the tribe. A lunatic. By the end of that one school year, I worked on eleven full productions.

There are, I think, certain times in your life where you are happy and growing and full of that wonderful, fleeting feeling that for just a flicker, you're where you're supposed to be in the world, doing what you're supposed to be doing. This was one of those times. At the end of that year, I got cast as Snug the Joiner in the school's main stage production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. It wasn't a huge role, but it was juicy. And I milked it for all it was worth. Snug, as written, is not the brightest of folks. I took his non-smarts and ran with it. I made Snug wide-eyed, innocent, and fun- a sort of big baby without a trace of irony in his bones. And people loved it. My fellow actors would laugh during rehearsals. Something was starting to happen when I got on stage. I didn't understand it exactly, but I dug it immensely.  My brother Jerry played Quince in that production, and we had a lot of fun together. My sister Heather was Titania, and my brother's wife at the time, Jenny, was one of the faeries- so there were four McAllisters in the show, which we thought was very cool.

Anyhow, the reason I bring up that production is that there was this one rehearsal that was so gloriously strange, it cemented forever my deep and abiding love for theatre. The show was directed by the great Richard Parks- one of the funniest, most talented, and terrifying people I have ever met. He was incredibly smart, knew the show inside and out, and could coax performances of beauty from a stone. But he also had a temper. One night, we were rehearsing the scene where Puck comes in and does some magic. There was going to be a sound effect of chimes or something for when the magic happened, but we didn't have that yet- so Richard recorded his own voice, rising from low pitch to high while saying "doodle doodle doodle doodle doodle". His plan was to use this as a substitute sound effect so we could get used to hearing something. Sadly, he didn't tell anyone in the cast about this ahead of time. Rehearsals were going along fine, and we got to the scene where the sound effect was supposed to happen, and suddenly, out of the speakers, came our fearless leaders voice. "Doodle doodle doodle doodle." There was a pause, a momentary confusion and people looking around as if to ask "did I really just hear that?", and then we all burst into laughter. There were at least ten of us on stage, and more backstage or in the audience waiting for their next scene. And all of us were laughing. All, that is, except Richard. He was fuming. He screamed out "What's so funny? What's so god damned funny? We needed a sound effect, so I made this to use until a better one comes along." We all got our selves under control, and went back to running the scene. "Doodle doodle doodle doodle." More laughter. Richard again up, this time running from the audience up onto the stage. "Stop laughing! Stop laughing right now!" Slowly, we got it together. We all said sorry, asked if we could please go back to rehearsing the scene, and looked as full of remorse as we could. Richard said fine, strode back into the audience, and we started the scene from the top. "Doodle doodle doodle doodle". As I remember it, we tried not to laugh. Faces contorted. Some people seemed to be giving birth. Then a strange, high pitched squeal broke out of one of us, and that was it. An explosion of laughter erupted from the entire cast en masse. Richard turned a bright red, and screamed up to the stage manager, who ran the sound, to "play it again! Play it over and over! Play it ten fucking times if you have to, so they can laugh their little asses off and we can get back to work!" I'm not sure he meant for the stage manager to actually play it ten times in a row or not- but that's just what happened.

I have never seen so many people laugh so hard for so long. We were keeled over, rolling on the ground, screaming. Somewhere around the seventh "doodle doodle doodle doodle doodle" Richard shouted something and exited the theatre.

It was a glorious night. And now that I think of it, also instrumental in my becoming a writer, because a few days later, I wrote a short story about the rehearsal, in which Richard ran back in with a machine gun and shot us all in iambic pentameter. I remember reading it to the cast, and everyone laughed. A lot. And something about making people laugh from something I wrote was as satisfying as making people laugh by what I did on stage. Wheels were set in motion.

And so, here I am, years later, with a one act about actors and theatre and A Midsummer Night's Dream. Life is good sometimes.

MORE COWBELLS, WITCHES, AND KNIGHTS

So I was set to meet with Kari Kraakevik- composer, genius, and friend who I have agreed to write a musical with. The meeting is at Starbucks, and we're going to sit down and I'm going to tell her my basic ideas for the plot. The show is based on Rose Red and Snow White, an old Norske legend immortalized by the Brothers Grimm. We've talked a bit about the basics- two main characters are sisters who are very different. There's a cranky Imp, and a bear who comes in from the cold. We want to make it all about Rose and being different, being something other than what your parents want you to be- in her case, being wild and needing to go out into the world and find whatever she finds. We've talked about making the bear a wolf- a Wolf Prince, and giving him an older brother- a Wolf King. Now we need a basic structure, with places for songs and over 20 characters.

And go!

Okay- let's start by giving the Imp a back story. Why is he so mean? How about: once, the Imp was your run of the mill human, but got turned into the Imp by an evil wizard? Yeah, and not just any normal human, but the father of Rose and Snow. Now that sounds good. Explains the absent father, creates all sorts of possibilities down the road. So, what happened? Long ago, while looking for food, he followed a deer deep into the mountains. Now in those very same mountains lived a very powerful wizard- no, a witch- no, an enchantress who used her power for good. Yeah, I like that. And this enchantress' heart was a huge ruby which she kept safe in those mountains. And the man- let's call him the Hunter, comes upon the ruby, and not knowing any better, breaks it into little pieces in the hopes of selling them. Which is a bad idea, as the enchantress is now upset about her heart being broken, and is now without a heart, and therefore incapable of mercy. She zaps the hunter, turns him into the Imp, and is now all messed up, evil, bad- now she's a bad witch. And she needs a name. I take Endorra for the Witch of Endor from the Bible, and Belle from the Bell Witch legend, and now she has a name: Endorra Belle.

So that will all be in a prelude, sort of like in Disney's Beauty and the Beast- a quick set up leading us to Rose Red and Snow White living with their mom. The village has been living in fear ever since Endorra went bad. And we'll have a song introducing most of the characters. In the first draft of the plot, this takes place in the forest, and I make a note to create some forest creatures as characters. The song will have to be about the differences between Rose and Snow- wild vs. domestic, yin and yang and all that. And we'll call it "Red and White".

Okay, next we can have Rose and Snow go into the woods picking berries- always trouble. They meet the Imp like in the fairy tale, help him out of a jam, and he's a jerk. After he leaves, the sisters can sing a duet about domesticity vs. freedom. Excellent. Next, back home, they can meet the Wolf Prince. And to fill out the cast, let's give the Wolf Prince a side-kick. A black sheep called Night, who can turn out to be a bad guy/spy. Later on, after the first read through, I will change the Wolf Prince's name to the Timberwolf because it's a little confusing having a Wolf Prince and a Wolf King. On top of that, there was a DC superhero named Timberwolf who was a member of  the Legion of Superheroes.

I like to put weird, obscure references in my work. Sometimes they're cultural, sometimes they're historical, sometimes they're personal. I figure, if it doesn't hamper the story, makes sense on its own, and will make those who get it feel extra smart, why not? If nothing else, it keeps me amused, and invested in the story- and often, what starts as a goofy allusion to some book I read leads to a great moment.

So Timberwolf shows up, and turns out to be a lost prince, trapped in another form. This is good- see, everyone wants Rose to be something she's not. And in the story, there are other characters who have been forced to be things they are not. And none of them are better for it. That's a theme, or something.

And if there's a missing prince, then there have to be people looking for him. Knights. And I sense a chance for some comic relief. What is the knights are sort of goofy? Yes. It's all coming together. And here's the weird thing. There's this point for me when I'm making up a story where it all clicks, and I can't really explain it, but somehow, I no longer really have to think all that much about what should happen. I just sort of see it in my mind. The characters, the scenery, the whole thing- and it's like I'm just writing down what I see in my head. There might be a little snag here and there, a moment I need to tweak- but that's all mechanics. Sometimes, scenes I see end up getting cut from the show. Doesn't mean they aren't part of the whole story, they're just a part we don't need to see on stage. Once I hit that point, writing the play becomes nothing more or less than the story showing itself to me.

At least, that's how it feels. More on all that next time. By the way, the amazing costume sketches you see are the work of Sherry McClure, who is designing sets and costumes for our production at Actors Academy of the Performing Arts. Tickets are now on sale for our December 14, 15, and 16 performances in Boulder. Go here to buy some.

Also, my short play Lovers, Lunatics, and Poets will be available very soon from Playscripts, inc. Go here for more info.

And last but not least, two things on Burning the Old Man. If you are in the city of Pardubice in the Czech Republic, go see it performed in Czech under the title Putovani S Urnou at Divadlo Exil. And, I just got the Portuguese translation, As Cinzas do Velho, for a production going up in Sao Paolo in March. If you are in that part of the world, I hope you can see it. Of course, if you'd like to read an English version of the play, you can always buy your very own copy at the fantastic web site Indie Theater Now. Go here for more info.

That's all for today- now go out there and get your theatre on!