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.