And if you believe that, I've got a bridge I can sell you

Anyone who tells you theatre is a dying art form is trying to sell you something.

I was going to write a more detailed post on this point, but really that one statement pretty much says it all. I’d rather not add to the all the hot air swirling around the blogosphere about the “problems” with American Theatre. Go here if you want an entryway into the melee.

Just remember, when you see someone screaming that the house is on fire, look closer and you’ll see them selling buckets of water.

Octopus

Friday night I went to see Octopus at The Magic Theater. This time I remembered to save a program, unfortunately I left said program at home. No full name references this time either, sorry.

I enjoyed it even more than Bug the night before. It’s been extended through this weekend, so if you have a chance, go see it. Be warned though, the show has the nickname “Cocktopus” for a reason. You will see 4 men completely naked, but only at the end of one scene. The nudity worked and didn’t seem gratuitous. It did, however, make me wish that the Playhouse had kept the nudity in Bug.

Octopus is a moving look at the nature of love, specifically male homosexual love and the various politics therein, but broader messages are easily accessible for us heterosexual types. The play uses absurdist elements well (sea monsters, soaking wet telegram delivery men with plastic smiles, flowing water, characters at the bottom of the ocean monologueing ) without being strange just for strangeness sake. In a lot of ways, this is exactly the kind of storytelling I love so it’s no surprise that I like it.

I particularly like using water onstage and this show does a wonderful job of it. Something about real water highlights the immediacy of live theatre and creates an experience that cannot be replicated on TV or film.

Every character in the play served a purpose and had their moment to justify their existence. Seeing that made me realize Bug lacked in that regard a bit. While I could see the reason certain characters in Bug existed, I questioned whether or not they needed to or if they’re purpose could have been filled another way. Or maybe the reasons didn't seem like enough leaving the play feeling imbalanced.

I will say that some of the dialogue did not seem to follow what had just been said. I especially had trouble following the monologue under the sea. The actors did a wonderful job of making each line seem to flow from the one before it which made the progressions appear logical, but at closer inspection ideas didn’t seem to really relate. As a result, I kept dropping out of the play at times.

Bug - Review

I went to see Bug by Tracy Letts at the SF Playhouse last night. It was recently made into a movie, which I have not seen but am told is quite different. (I just tried to find a trailer for it online to watch, but none of them worked.)

The play closes this Saturday, and the houses are mostly full, so it doesn’t do anyone much good for me to review it now, but… I enjoyed it a lot. Don’t let the following criticism fool you.

One of these days I’ll remember to bring a program home with me so I can include actors full names, but the show really hinges on the performance of the actor playing Peter. Gabe did not disappoint. Really all the performances were strong. Susi took a little time getting warmed up as Agnes, but she got there. (Except she didn’t really react at all to her character having gasoline poured over her head. I’m sorry, you’d gag or cough or something. Gabe reacted.)

The set was beautiful. I wished it hadn’t shook so violently when doors were slammed though. (If you’re going for kitchen sink drama, you’ve got to go all the way with it, IMHO.)

The blood effects were gruesome and believable. (Except the first punch, or was it a slap? I don’t know.) You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a character pull out their own tooth onstage with a pair of pliers. Ok, maybe you have.

They cut the nudity from the play, which is fine, I guess, but I think it detracted from the overall desperation and vulnerability of the characters. Nudity is powerful. Live nudity in a drama is especially powerful. Isn’t the Playhouse about the “Power of Live Theatre”?

If I had to sum up the show in one word, it would be “satisfying”. It’s chewing-gum catharsis (as opposed to chewing-gum comedy). By “chewing-gum”, I mean you enjoy it while you chew it, but afterwards you don’t have much to show for it. I had trouble accessing any larger meaning to the play. (The government conspiracy theory layer to the plot is so overdone I couldn’t go there.) Oh, I’m sure other people found a larger meaning, but to me it was just about these people’s lives. That’s all I wanted it to be about. The play took my own little doubts and fears, exaggerated them, and played them out. I guess maybe that’s the point of good catharsis.

It did leave me wondering if there needed to be a larger meaning. Part of me says “yes”. I can get chewing-gum entertainment at home. If I’m going to make the effort to go to a show, I need to see something bigger, something I can’t get from TV. I suppose in this case the something bigger was just the added intensity of seeing these things play out live in sort of a Grand Guignol sort of way.

(I wish this were the Playhouse's poster for the show, by the way, but it’s not. Neither their poster nor their photos capture in anyway the intensity or the spirit of the play.)

Theater: The Musical!

I haven’t done much to overtly plug the show that I’m in on this blog, but Thursday night is your last chance to see me perform in the show.

The show is Theater: The Musical. We get a suggestion from the audience for a playwright from the last 100 years or so (no Sophocles, Euripides, Shakespeare, or Johnson) who never wrote a musical (no Brecht or Sondheim) and then improvise a 2 hour show as if that playwright had written a musical. We have no preplanned characters, story lines, or songs. The less we preplan, the easier it is.

So far we’ve done David Mamet (x2), Eugene O’Neil, Neil Simon (x2), Tennessee Williams (x2), Steve Martin, and Woody Allen. The O’Neil show was dark and depressing. The Neil Simon shows were light and hysterical. We let the audience choose the playwright, so you’re in control of what you get.

You can read all about my experiences rehearsing and performing the show at my improv blog. Or, you can come see me Thursday night!

For tickets click HERE.

'Tis Pity She's a Whore - MUST SEE

Tara’s not allowed to read this blog post until after she sees the show. I don’t think she reads this blog anyway, but people who know her do, so don’t tell her.

Impact’s ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore is fucking brilliant. You should buy tickets right now and go see it as soon as you can. It was written 400 years ago by John Ford, but it’s filled with more sex, violence, and taboos than a Tarantino film. A.C.T. will be doing it in June, but that production will be more expensive, less intimate, and not as good. Go see this one.

I am now about to vent my rage at the intermission placement. Please remember, in spite of this, the show is brilliant and a must see.

Live theater is not a movie. At a movie you can get up and leave if you need to use the bathroom, stretch your legs, or otherwise need to give your butt a rest. You cannot do this in live theater without making a scene and disturbing the actors. That is why I have big problems with any show that makes you sit significantly more than hour without a break. As with anything there are exceptions, but as a rule if I have to sit longer than that without an intermission I feel mistreated and otherwise disrespected by the production.

You may remember from my review of Figaro that I complained about its 1 hour and 40 minute first half. That was at Berkeley Rep where the seats are at least comfortable. ‘Tis Pity’s intermission comes at 1 hour and 30 minutes, and that’s on uncomfortable seats in the heat of the basement of La Val’s. I’m sorry you CANNOT DO THAT. Period. End of Story. The damage caused to the overall enjoyment of the show by the sheer physical torture of sitting in La Val’s that long far outweighs any artistic benefit or reasoning behind such an intermission placement.

I spent the last half hour of the first half checking my watch and praying the intermission would come every time there was a blackout. I should have been paying attention to the brilliant show, but I was not. That’s a BIG problem.

Not only is the placement unfortunate from an endurance perspective, but the second half runs just 30 minutes, leaving the show feeling incredibly unbalanced. I counted 5 earlier opportunities to take the intermission, the first and most obvious being 65 minutes into the show.

I realize at this point it would be all but impossible to move the intermission, but I implore the director to do it. The imbalance should have been caught and corrected before the show opened, and now it’s probably tragically too late. I say tragically because the show is otherwise brilliant and the intermission placement is a needless blemish that frankly threatens to ruin the show.

Now, back to the brilliance… The performances are exceedingly strong (I’d list the strongest, but I’d just be copying the entire program). A handful of actors needed a scene or two to warm up, but then even they were wonderful. The action is tense, the effects shocking, and climax not to be missed.

YOU MUST GO SEE IT, just use the bathroom before it starts, bring your own seat cushion, and be prepared for a long first act.

Figaro

I went to see Figaro at the Berkeley Rep on Friday night. No, not the opera, but the new play.

The show begins with Figaro and his old master Count Almaviva hiding out in a deserted mansion across the street from the Bastile about 20 years after the events of Mozart’s opera have ended. The French revolution rages outside. The beginning plays something like Becket with the Count and Figaro humorously exploring their master and servant relationship now that the revolution has stripped the Count of his nobility. Unfortunately it also gets bogged down in modern political references trying to squeeze a few last moments of fun at Bush’s expense. While the jokes were clever, they did little more than beat a dead horse and cheapen the play by making it less timeless.

Soon Figaro and the Count start reminiscing about the good old days and talk about the events that happened in Mozart’s opera. Other actors even appear on stage as the younger Figaro and Count and perform songs from the opera as flashbacks. At fist I just thought this was exposition to bring people unfamiliar with the opera up to speed. No, the entire play is the old Count and Figaro talking about the events of the opera interspersed with songs from the actual opera.

It’s a Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro highlight reel and lecture. The actor playing the old Count directed the show. The actor playing the old Figaro adapted it. I think the two of them just love Mozart’s opera so much that they wanted to give us the best parts, and then use the older characters as a conceit to explain everything that was happening and teach us what it all meant. Otherwise, there’s really no point to it. I would have rather just gone to see the opera.

The first half runs an agonizing 1 hour and 40 minutes plus without even a blackout or scene change along the way to break up the action. On the plus side, the singing was beautiful and the acting was superb. They also did some really interesting things with the staging. They had a big screen on the back wall that showed projections, usually just pictures of architecture to highlight the setting, but often they showed live close ups of the actors on stage. While it was a really interesting use of multi-media, it didn’t seem to really relate to the actual show at all except perhaps to add to the college lecture motif. (Now here class is this wonderful song from the opera…)

I left at intermission.

To read more about San Francisco Theater, check out Tim's blog, Direct Address.