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.

LOVERS, LUNATICS, AND POETS

So, awhile back, I entered a contest via Twitter. I know, it sounds kind of goofy, but I figured why not? It was called Pitch-n-Play, and was being put on by Playscripts, inc. - a group that has the good taste to publish Hela and Troy, a one act of mine. The concept was simple- write a pitch for a play based on the quote "the course of true love never did run smooth". The pitch had to fit into one tweet. That was it. I wrote about ten pitches, and tweeted them all with the appropriate hash tag. Or is it hashtag? Syntax in this electronic age is liquid, shifting between parallel universes at the speed of light. Anyway, back in early March it was announced that one of my pitches, from the thousands entered, had been chosen as one of three winners. Hooray. Here's the winning pitch in its entirety: The real Puck messes with hearts of teens during high school prod of A Midsummer Nights Dream. 


That was part one of the contest. Next, people from all over the world were invited to write a short play based on any of the three winning pitches. Which meant people I had never met were going to write plays based on my idea. Which I found cool. It is thrilling to think of strangers reading my stuff. Well, thrilling and weird, and maybe a little scary. But mostly thrilling.


Anyway, in about a month, in between all the classes I teach and shows was directing, I managed to write a play based on my pitch. I decided to have Puck come upon the fairy Peaseblossom, who has forsaken being a fairy because she's fallen in love with a young actor. Puck decides to help her, and hilarity ensues. There's lots of mistakes, parallels to the real Midsummer Night's Dream, and plenty of jokes aimed at the theatre itself. And a baby pygmy hippo. 




Here's a small sample, where Peaseblossom, now going by the name Peabo, tries to explain everything to Maggie, a normal high school student.

MAGGIE

Uh, what are you talking about?

PEABO

Isn’t it obvious? Robyn here has been possessed by the real Puck. Puck, feeling sorry for me because I used to be a fairy but fell in love with Tim and became mortal, has taken the magic flower called love-in-idleness and tried to use it to make Tim love me back, but messed things up in classic Puck-like fashion!

MAGGIE

Wait- you love Tim?

PEABO

Yes!

MAGGIE

And you’re saying fairies, like the ones in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, are real?

PEABO

Hello! What, did you think Shakespeare made all that up?

MAGGIE

Well, yeah.

You get the idea. So, I wrote it, sent it in, and then today I got notice that my play was one of three finalists, and while it didn't win the grand prize, the decided to publish it anyway, just 'cause they liked it so much. Like I said, Playscripts is known for their excellent literary taste.

So, when it becomes available, I'll post information here. In the meantime, you can get info and/or buy my others plays at both Playscripts, Inc. and Indie Theatre Now.

Now go out there and GET YOUR THEATRE ON.

1 GIANT LEAP DAY

I'm having a good day.

Make that a good week.  Things are just happening that are sweet, empowering, and exciting.  Where to begin?

First, I got notified this morning that I'm a finalist for Pitch-n-play, a contest put on by Playscripts, inc. where you entered via twitter various pitches, or ideas, for plays based on the quote "the course of true love never did run smooth. (if you want to follow me on twitter, I'm @rkmcallister)   From the hundreds of submissions, 30 semi-finalists were chosen. Then there was a week-long online voting period, where the general public voted on the 30 entries.  The top 10 were named today, and I am in.  My pitch was "real Puck messes with hearts of teens during high school prod of Midsummer Nights Dream".  The announcement was made by direct message on twitter.  When I didn't get a tweet notifying me I was a finalist by 9pm NYC time, which is where Playscripts is located, I figured I wasn't in, and took the dog for a walk.  Then, about an hour later, my iPhone told me I was mentioned in a tweet from Playscripts.  And there it was- the magic words congratulations.  Now I wait a week, while they decide from those ten finalist the final three pitches, which will each get a chance to be published.  For more on the contest, go here.

I like winning contests.

Second, I wrapped Strong Tea, my first movie, this week-end.  Making movies is a lot of work- much more than I had thought it would be.  But it's also exhilarating.   And addictive.  The cast and crew were outstanding, and the shoot could not have gone better.  More on that in the next blog.

Third, tonight my play Burning the Old Man is performing yet again in the Czech Repbulic, at Divadlo Exil in the city of Pardubice.  Still can't get over the idea that thousands of miles away, people I have never met are performing something I wrote, translated into a language I don't speak.  Amazing.

And Fourth, it's Leap Day.  Here's a little 1 Giant Leap love for you.

So Happy Leap Day, world.  Thanks for everything.

IN THE NEXT ROOM

The theatre at the Fine Arts Center in Colorado Springs has done it again.  I've had the great good fortune of seeing every show there this season, and so far, each production has exceeded my expectations in every way imaginable.  First I saw Leslie Bramm's Lovers Leapt- fantastic, tragic, timely.  Then I saw Stephen Sondheim's Assassins.  Brilliant.  Then came A Year with Frog and Toad- sweet, joyous fun.  And now Sarah Ruhl's In the Next Room, or the Vibrator Play, which was funny, sad, thought provoking- your basic outstanding night at the theatre.  The first three plays I saw at the FAC were all deftly directed by Scott RC Levy, the new Artistic Director of the company who has programmed a season that is just fantastic- exciting, entertaining, and elevating.  In the Next Room is directed by Joye Cook-Levy perfectly, with just the right balance between comedy and drama.  I don't know what they eat in the Levy/Cook-Levy house, but it must be some kind of meta-theatre super food that produces super powered theatre people.  How else can you explain so much talent in one household?

The play itself is a comedic drama, or rather a dramatic comedy, is set somewhere in the Victorian age, and is about a Doctor Givings, who uses the fairly new invention of what we call a vibrator to help women, and some men, overcome "hysteria".  The central character in the play is the doctors wife, Catherine- who goes from scatter-brained housewife to fairly modern woman in the course of the play.  The actors are to a one pitch perfect.  The dialogue is somewhere between the well made plays of Shaw or Wilde and the hard hitting realism of Ibsen- but the cast pulls it off wonderfully, at just the right pace for us to digest what is going on and still keep us leaning into the action.  Stephanie Phil plays Catherine with intelligence, sensitivity, and a keen sense of humor.  Chad Siebert plays Doc Givings just right, making him at once a bit of an insensitive husband and also a lost, sad man who doesn't really know how to connect to his wife.  Max Ferguson plays an artist who suffers from hysteria and has several memorable run ins with a device from Chattanooga that brought the house down.  Marisa Hebert is strong as Elizabeth, a wet nurse who serves as the catalyst for Catherine's journey, and then provides some insight into martial bliss in the second act.  Tracy Liz Miller and Tom Auclair play a couple who come to the doctor for help with their hysteria problems, and bring humanity to these rather silly people.  And Amy Brooks plays Annie, the doctors assistant, so sweetly, so softly and sadly that she was my favorite character in the play.

Next at the FAC:  Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men.  I can't wait.

And now, on a complete tangent of self promotion- I am a semi-finalist in a pitch contest that Playscripts, inc. is throwing.   A pitch is a basic idea for a story.  In this contest, called Pitch-n-Play, hundreds of playwrights tweeted their pitches, and 30 were chosen as semi-finalists.  Now, through online voting, 3 finalists will be chosen, and then one winner will be given an advance on their play, whihc will be published by Playscripts, inc.  Please go here and vote for me- my pitch in the one about the real Puck messing with teens during a high school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Now go out there and GET YOUR THEATRE ON.

HELA, TROY, AND THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE

So I'm taking part in this twitter based contest, sponsored by Playscripts, inc.  It's called Pitch-n-Play, and what you do is tweet a pitch for a short play than can have around 8 characters and be about 20-40 minutes long.   The play has to somehow relate to the quote "the course of true love never did run smooth."  It's actually quite fun coming up with different ideas, and a great excuse to kick some stuff around that might become my next play.

Some of my ideas, in no particular order:

Doctor trying save wife finds cure for cancer, but side effect is you lose the ability to love

Right wing undercover reporter falls for OWS protester and must hide identity

Minister trying to pray away the gay accidentally summons Cupid and falls in love with him.

For a list of all tweets in the contest, go here.  And enter yourself.  It's fun, it's free, and takes very little time.  While you're there, if you haven't already, give me a follow @rkmcallister.

I like Playscripts.  This is no doubt due to the fact that they already publish one of my plays, a one act called Hela and Troy.  I wrote it at the request of Reyna de Courcy, a fantastic young actress who played Sunny in the first production of Fenway.  Her company, Gravity & Glass Productions, was doing a festival called Bell, Book, and Candle- all about love in fantastical settings, and she asked me if I wanted to submit something.  Being the always hungry writer that I am, I immediately said yes.  And I got this image of the Norse Goddess of death, Hela, being lonely and going speed dating.  And the play sort of just popped out of my head, like Aphrodite from the brow of Zeus, if I may mix my pantheons.



Here's a snippet from the play, where Hela meets Troy- who tries to be witty be asking unusual questions.

TROY

Hi.  I’m speed date number 10- also known as Troy.  This might sound strange- what doesn’t when you’re speed dating- anyway, I’m asking everyone- all my dates of speed- the same question:  do you want to steal a car with me?

HELA

I don’t know- if I told you that my little brother was a huge Wolf named Fenris and that he once bit off the hand of Tyr in anger at being tricked by the Gods, would that disgust you?

TROY

I don’t know- I’ve never met your brother, so it isn’t really my business, is it?

HELA

Sit down.

The play got an awesome production.  It was directed by John Hurley, and had Shashanah Dattilo as Hela, Ben Ellis Fine as Troy, and Alisha Speilmann as Mandy.  It was well received, and soon I got a call from my agent saying Playscripts wanted to publish it.  I said yippee, and that was that.  So far, lots of copies have been sold, and another production came about as a direct result of those, in Canada.

Next week-end, I'm shooting my short film Strong Tea.  More on that soon.

One more thing- if you're in NYC this week-end, Robbie Gil is playing the Rockwood Music Hall at 10pm.  He's an amazing singer/songwriter, and if you haven't seen him yet, do so.  You will not regret it.