IN PRAISE OF GHIDORAH

I watched a lot of monster movies growing up. Anything weird, scary, strange, and I was in. This included all the Godzilla movies. Not just the big guy, but Rodan, Gamora, Baby Godzilla, Mothra, and Ghidorah, the three headed monster sometimes just called Monster X. Very weird shit but I loved it. All of it. And Monster X was just... sort of like life. The three heads sort of flopped about, shot lazer beams every where, looked absurd, but managed to kick the living crap out of everyone and everything in its path. 

I think King Ghidorah eventually ended up living on the moon, like you do.

Of late, I think of the beast with three heads.

Because I lack focus, blaze a path of destruction, and feel like I live on the moon.

I just took over a job at one of the schools I work at, going from 4 hours a week to 32. I am directing a new show, EIGG the MUSICAL, that is going to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival this summer. I have summer classes coming up at DCPA, StageDoor, and Reel Kids. I am finishing a new pilot that I hope to submit to the Austin Film Festival, which has a hard final deadline of May 25. (more on all those in future blogs)

AND I AM STUCK IN ACT THREE OF A FIVE ACT STRUCTURE.

Yes. I am Monster X. I wake up dazed and confused, looking at three things at once, roaring nonsense and dusting things up with Godzilla, Gamora, Mothra, and some unnamed monsters that look large but fuzzy at the edge of my peripheral vision.

And I love it. 

I am not able to sit still. It makes me anxious. I hear silence and I don't like it. I crave it at the same time. Silence.

Maybe that's why Ghidorah was always pissed off. It wanted and didn't want the same things at the same time, and was furious at those with seemingly simpler desires. 

Godzilla wanted to kick the shit out of some buildings and then go back to the sea. Baby Godzilla wants to blow smoke rings. Mothra wanted those miniature women to sing her theme song. What did Ghidorah want? Deep down inside its heart? Who can say? 

Also, did it have three hearts, one for each head?

I don't know. 

All I know is, like Bilbo, I am too little butter spread over too much bread, and I want to see mountains again, Gandalf.

We are all lost monsters, I think. 

So, that's it. My first blog entry of the year, I think. Better late than never.

Now I'm off to find Godzilla.

Here's a song. It's Mahra Mothra, and God Damn is it awesome.

PS: The classes I am teaching are:

Playwriting at DCPA, this June & July, evenings. 

https://storage.googleapis.com/dcpa/pdf/EDU23_Summer-Adult-Catalog_V4.pdf

Broadway Boot Camp at StageDoor Theatre in Conifer, June 5-9, days.

https://www.stagedoortheatre.org/

Web series, Acting Improv, and D&D at Reel Kids, June and July

https://www.myreelkids.com/projects-3

WHAT WAS NORMAL?

Dreamed last night of mass panic, children abandoned by dying parents, and general hysteria. But it was one of those dreams where it's like watching a movie, so even though what was happening was terrible, I didn't feel the terror some dreams can bring. There was a huge crowd in some nameless city, everyone for the most part trying to social distance. A restaurant was open, with seats outside, and there was a group of friends eating together, talking about the pandemic. The restaurant was surrounded by a sea of humanity- like that scene in Speilberg's version of War of the Worlds, where the crowd freaks. A family- young mom, dad, and kid- approach the table, dump the kid there, beg the group of friends to care for their child as they had the disease, and then they were pulled into the swelling mob of people, vanishing almost instantly. The friends all looked at the kid, not sure what to do. Then I woke up.

I didn't go to sleep watching the news last night. No, we fell asleep watching Ancient Aliens, one of my go to shows, along with Finding Bigfoot, where basically the same thing happens again and again. Sort of the nerdy version of a soap opera, I suppose. It was a little past two am, not quite the witching hour. Good old Girogio was saying how whatever ruins he was standing at were most likely built by aliens from a planet near Orion's Belt. I turned off the television, and marveled at how quiet it was. Usually at around two, the local bars are all just closing, and there is a lot of activity as the night owls stagger to their cars, usually chattering away like drunken chipmunks hoping to convince one of their fellow drinkers to come home with them. Not last night. It was silent.

Taught three two hour classes yesterday for Reel Kids on Zoom, which was acting up and went completely nuts a few times. Lost audio, frozen image, and such. Still, for the most part it worked, and we were able to talk about this whole thing, and about how everyone is doing. Most of them find to their surprise that they miss school. They also miss going out for pizza with their friends. And human contact. But I was struck by how much each group has changed. They are all different people. I think that we change at certain milestones in life. Graduation. Marriage. Deaths of loved ones. And now, global pandemic. Good or bad, happy or sad, we are all changed forever by this. There is no going back to normal. I've never really understood normal to be anything but a dream of some ideal world that never existed anyway. So let's not use the word normal. We will never go back to being the people we were when this began. I think of lot of us will be stronger, wiser, better equipped to deal with life. Some of us will probably be damaged, and carry our wounds to the grave. Of course, this is all conjecture. The only way to find out what we will be like in the future is to get to the future. I just can't shake this feeling that the world is going to have to change, out of necessity. Our economic system, our health system, our morals and ethics. We are being show, in deadly lessons, just how connected we all are. If for nothing other than pure selfishness, we must take care of each other or we will all join the throngs of zombies, leaving our children with strangers.

So let's all find our inner heroes and rises to the occasion.

Here's a song.

THIS TOO SHALL PASS

Dreamt last night about work. One of the places I work at is Reel Kids, a place where we teach TV/Film & Theatre. It's mostly after school classes and week-end sessions, as well as summer camps. A lot of the kids are part of different troupes, and it's a big part of their lives. In the dream, we were meeting at a park as part of the new reality. Kids were gathering, and class was about to start, and a parent was dropping off his kid. He was really angry, and venting to another teacher that we had changed our schedule and even cancelled some classes due to the virus. I tried to speak to him, but no matter what I said, his anger only grew. It was one of those dream conversations that seem to go on and on and on. Finally I woke up.

I've been interacting with lots of folks online. As no doubt we all have. Most people are doing what they can. And most people are freaking out. Some complain about the dreaded toilet paper hoarders. Some talk politics. I had one guy this morning sounding the alarms and saying the US was becoming the same as Nazi Germany (no lie) because NYC was saying you can't have large amounts of people in a church. I have vented clouds and clouds of steam about my anger at the current administrations lack of action in a time of crisis. At home, Lisa and I can argue about pretty much anything, and have a couple of times. None of this is shocking, I think. We are in Bizzaro Universe, only not a funny one like in the comic books or Seinfeld. This is a world with terrifying statistics and images on our screens, an army of fear phantoms marching through our collected unconscious, and a constant sense that nobody quite knows how to stop it.

I'm going to try and do less shouting, more listening. When I do speak, I'm going to try to be more positive. Stop arguing about what might happen, and instead respond to what is happening. Easter seems like a million years from now. Right now, I think packed churches is a mistake, and urge everyone to not do that. In the future, who knows. I don't live in the future. I may sound like a cheesy self help book, or that friend who is into wind chimes and ointments and Rumi and Tai Chi. So be it. I need to exit the Panic Room and enter the yoga studio.

I'm not saying I won't lose it, freak out, yell at the tv, PRINT IN ALL CAPS WHEN I'M UPSET, respond to my few Trump following friends with vitriol and bile. I'm sure I will. I'm just going to try and be better about it. (yes, I purposefully used the "be better") Now, today, I'm going to go over the stimulus bill and the new unemployment rules and try to figure out what can be done, so this kinder, gentler Kelly may last only an hour or so. But that's an hour of peace.

Things that have helped: Connecting with friends and family both through email, and even good old phone calls. Those are the best. I called a cousin I hadn't spoken to in years yesterday, and we talked for almost an hour. It was awesome. Meditating. I mentioned before we are doing this Deepak Chopra thing, and it is really calming, energizing, and easy.  Takes all of fifteen minutes. Walking. We get up early and walk for almost an hour, keeping social distancing. We connect with the world, the neighborhood, kids playing, nature. Games via Zoom, Skype, and facetime with friend and family has quickly become a thing in our house, and it rocks. And of course reading all the books I've been meaing to read, finishing all those streaming shows I paused halfway through, and so on. Oh, and podcasts. If you haven't gotten into them yet, this might be the time.

Well, I was going to go on about how the world economy will have to change, how the environment seems to be doing better when we leave it alone, and yada yada yada. But time has run out for today.

More tomorrow. Here's a song.

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.

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.

GHOSTLIGHT

So busy of late. Little Shop of Horrors at the JCC, Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters at Littleton Town Hall, A Midsummer Night's Dream at DAT, Sweet Charity at StageDoor- I work on a lot of shows. So what do I do next? Film a horror film as part of a class at Reel Kids. The movie is called Ghostlight, and it's a thriller centered around a high school theatre department. It's the kind of movie  Joss Whedon should direct, in my humble opinion. I've had a couple of different classes read the script together, and the feedback has been amazing- you can tell when people genuinely like something. Anyway, I want to share some of the script with you- so here a bit of the opening:

INT. BLACKFORD HIGH SCHOOL THEATRE - NIGHT

The theatre is empty, the only light a lamp in the middle of the stage. FOOTSTEPS AND WHISPERED VOICES approach. A KEY TURNS IN A LOCK. A DOOR CREAKS open. At the doorway is a group of high school kids, ready to party. MILTON, freshman drama geek, nervously points a flashlight into the theatre. RAY, the school rebel, pushes past Milton into the theatre, twelve pack of beer in his hand.

RAY 

          Lock and load!

He tosses a beer to NOEL, the class clown.

NOEL

          My ninja!

The group walks in. Ray tosses a beer to MAGGIE, Milton’s smart and sexy older sister.

MILTON

Maggie!

Maggie wags a finger at Milton.

MAGGIE 

          Milton- don’t make me regret letting you and 

          your nerdy friends come to the party.

IAN AND TONY, Milton’s nerdy friends, look at each other.

IAN

          Nerdy?

TONY 

          Clearly she meant you.

Noel grabs Milton’s flashlight, shines it on himself, and starts making faces. GROANS, LAUGHTER, “Loser!” ETC.

NOEL

          I am the ghost of Bloody Bones!

He HOWLS like a wolf. TRINA, MARNA and CECILY, three of the older girls, giggle.

NOEL (CONT’D)

          I am the ghost of Bloody Bones, and I am 

          walking into the theatre!

Noel freezes in terror. He points over Rays shoulder.

NOEL

          Ray- look out!

Marna and Cecily SCREAM. Trina LAUGHS. Ray doesn't flinch.

RAY

          Hilarious.

Unseen in the audience, LENNY- the school janitor who has been sleeping behind some chairs- sits up.

LENNY

          Morons.

Lenny takes the last swig from a BOTTLE OF WHISKEY, lays back down, and almost immediately passes out.

MILTON

          Actually, Bloody Bones is an old
          Scottish legend. He was flayed alive, and 
          roams the highlands seeking new skin.

Everyone stares at Milton. Maggie hangs her head, embarrassed. DANA, sophomore drama geek, looks scared.

DANA 

          N-N- New skin?

MILTON

          You could tell his victims from
          the lack thereof.

DANA 

          Lack there of?

MILTON

          He'd peel them. Like grapes.

NOEL

          Sweet!

Milton notices everyone is listening, smiles sheepishly.

RAY

          Nobody’s interested in a lecture
          on Captain Bloody Butt-

MILTON 

          Bloody Bones.

RAY

          What?

MILTON

          His name- it’s Bloody Bones.

RAY

          Whatever- look, you got us in here-
          now shut the fuck up.

Milton looks down, hurt. Maggie glares at Ray.

MAGGIE

          Milton, why don't you turn some
          lights on?

Milton sullenly runs towards the light room.

NOEL 

          Lack thereof.

Marna giggles. Noel smiles at her. Ray notices this.

RAY

          What we need is some atmosphere.

Ray steps to lamp, reaches for the switch.

MILTON

          Don’t turn off the ghost light!

Ray stops, turns to Milton.

RAY

          The what?

MILTON

          A theatre in the dark is a
          dangerous place. As president of the drama club, 
          I strenuously object.

Trina howls with laughter. Ray winks at Maggie.

RAY

          Danger's my middle name, baby.

MILTON

          Be that as it may, you don't turn
          the ghostlight off-

NOEL

          Why’s it called the ghost light?

MILTON 

          Theatres are haunted- full of ghosts from the 
          stories we tell: the fall of kings and queens, 
          star crossed lovers, things that go bump in the night-

RAY

          I got something that goes bump in the night.

Noel and several others shush Ray.

MILTON

          This is sacred ground...can’t you feel it?

RAY

          No.

MILTON

          You're clearly not a thespian.

RAY

          Clearly.

MILTON

          Every theatre has a ghostlight, to keep 
          the spirits out.

Trina takes a step towards Milton, fascinated.

TRINA 

          What do they want?

EMMY, a cute freshmen, steps forward.

EMMY

          Yeah, what do they want, Milton?

MILTON

          Oh, uh...some think it's the ghosts of actors, 
          not ready for their final exit-

Trina looks Milton in the eyes and smiles. Milton blushes, not sure what to do.

RAY

          Oh no!

Ray turns off the ghost light, plunging the theatre into DARKNESS. Milton SCREAMS. Everyone LAUGHS.

RAY 

          Come and get us, Bloody Bone!

Noel points flashlight into Milton’s face.

NOEL

          It’s Bloody Bones! He’s gonna peel me!

Milton runs to the ghostlight, turns it back on.

MILTON

          Seriously! What's next? Whistling backstage? 
          Quoting the Scottish play?

NOEL 

          You mean Brigadoon?

Ray looks incredulously at Noel.

NOEL 

          What? It’s a good movie.

MILTON

          You’re not respecting the theatre!

RAY 

          Alright, Duck- calm down.

MILTON

          A theatre is a temple! A TEMPLE!

An awkward moment. Milton is practically hyperventilating.

MAGGIE

          Milton, you’re embarrassing me.

Milton tries to compose himself.

MILTON 

          I’ll get those lights.

Milton walks to the LIGHT ROOM DOOR. A FLOORBOARD CREAKS.

MAGGIE 

          What was that?

NOEL 

          Maybe it’s Bloody Bones!

Milton unlocks the door.

MILTON

          I told you, he’s in Scotland.

Milton opens the door. It’s very dark inside, and the light switch is at the far end.

MILTON 

          Uh, Maggie, could you help me?

NOEL 

          What’s with Duck?

Maggie elbows Noel in the ribs.

MAGGIE

          He doesn’t like the dark, asshole.

Noel smiles, looks to Ray.

NOEL 

          Really?

Noel and Ray run to Milton, push him in the light room, and close the door, holding it shut. Milton screams from inside. Noel and Ray howl with laughter.

MAGGIE

          Not funny!

Some of the kids laugh. Milton continues to scream.

MILTON

          Let me out!

Maggie runs and pulls Ray away from the door.

MAGGIE

          Ray! Stop being such an asshole.

RAY 

          Lighten up!

MAGGIE

          I don’t like how you’re treating
          my little brother.

RAY 

          How do you like this?

Ray swats Maggie on the ass.

MAGGIE

          Stop it!

Maggie SLAPS Ray. 

An uncomfortable silence, except for Milton’s pounding on the door.

RAY 

          Well fuck you too!

Ray throws the ghostlight to the floor, SHATTERING the bulb, plunging the theatre into DARKNESS. 

A moment of silence, then ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE. Floorboards CREAK. Stage LIGHTS turn on, and BURST, showering SPARKS on the floor. Milton furiously POUNDS on the door.

Trina sees something, SCREAMS.

Abruptly, everything goes QUIET. Everyone looks a little shell shocked. Maggie goes to the back wall and turns on the overhead lights. Noel is still standing in front of the prop room door.

NOEL 

          What the fuck was that? 




So that's some of Ghostlight. If you are over 13, and interested in working on this, click HERE.

SUMMER AT REEL KIDS

Hi there!

I'm writing this to let you know about some summer theatre/film camps I'll be teaching at Reel Kids in Superior. Would love to see you there. Here is the email we've been sending out:

Summer classes have officially kicked off here at Reel Kids, and we couldn't be more excited! Fresh off our closing performance of Dear, Edwina Saturday night, today was our first day of rehearsal for The Secret Garden (opening June ?), and our first day of class for production design. Secret Garden, one of the most beautiful musicals of the past few decades, is based on the classic novel of the same name, and performs June 27th, 28th, and 29th. We hope to see you at the show!

June 16-20, we are offering Hogwarts Film Academy- a week long class where students can film their favorite scenes from the Harry Potter Stories, casting themselves as their favorite characters. Students can write their own scripts, or use material from the screenplays. Click here for more information. For the more advanced, we have a film directing class in June- this class is an exploration of short film making, from beginning idea to shooting the film to post-production. For more info, click here.

In July, we go through the looking glass with our production of Disney's Alice in Wonderland. This is the stage version of the classic Disney film- full of great music and unforgettable characters like The Mad Hatter, The Cheshire Cat, and The Queen of Hearts. Rehearsals beginJune 30, and performances are July 25th, 26th, and 27th. Slots are still available- click here for more info. And if you have a young artist more interested in the design aspect of theatre, in working backstage, building sets, costumes, lights, etc. we have a production class connected to this show. For more info, click here.

Also in July we have several film camps. We start with Camp Half Blood, a two week camp based on the Percy Jackson books. If your young artist ever wanted to make a short movie involving Greek Gods, fighting monsters, and modern teen-agers, this is the camp for them! Click here for more info.  We also have The Hunger Games Film School- where students get to make their own short films based on The Hunger Games. Each student gets to direct their own short film, based on these very popular books. Click here for more info.

And, as if July wasn't action packed enough, we are also offering a beginning film makers class called "iMovie and Beyond" a one week camp exploring the field of digital video and video editing- perfect for any novice movie mogul. For more info, click here.

And in August, it's all about The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee- a hilarious musical for actors ages 12 and up. Smart, edgy, and heart warming, this 2005 show has become an instant classic. Slots are still available- for more info, click here. And if you have an artist interested in working on the production elements of this show, click here.

We'll see you at Reel Kids!

Kari, Kelly, Devin, Tara and Hunter!

25th ANNUAL PUTNAM COUNTY SPELLING BEE & DISNEY'S ALICE IN WONDERLAND

HEY YOUNG ACTORS IN THE DENVER/BOULDER AREA!
I'm directing two shows at Reel Kids this summer:
Disney's Alice in Wonderland &
The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.

If you like these shows, having fun, making friends, and living life to the fullest, you should join me.

I mean, imagine being in this number:

Or this one!

Yes, you will have to work hard. Yes, you will have to have fun.
Those are the two golden rules of theatre.
See you at Reel Kids.
For more info, click HERE.