Stupidity in the Millions

As I was watching my beloved Chicago Bears shrug themselves to another blowout loss, I couldn't help but think about the allegedly upcoming Broadway production of Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark.

What's that, you ask? How did I make that kind of connection?

Well, I'm talking about the wasting of millions of dollars into a venture put together by incompetent buffoons who would likely better serve society better by working at some place where the greatest responsibility they are given is to carry a pile of bricks from one corner of the room to another and back again. (What I mean, of course, is they are stupid and should be shuttered as far away from society as humanly possible.) I watch the Bears this season and seethe with rage at the utter hopelessness of it all, a general manager in Jerry Angelo, a coaching staff led by Lovie Smith and a roster of 53 players who are merely marking time until their retirement from the playing field and the suicidal depression that will kick in when they realize their usefulness to society will have ended before the age of 40 (that is, if they can put together two brain cells to realize that). All of these people are making millions of dollars being absolutely terrible at their jobs. There's the inevitable call-ins from angry fans on sports radio and an unending barrage of complaints, often times while spending money at bars, pumping the economy with money.

Reeve Carney has recently been announced as the victim who will play Peter Parker in the $50 million-plus Broadway musical Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark directed by madwoman Julie Taymor, and there have also been new producers announced as well, because (oddly enough) the production has had some problems raising the $50 million-plus to produce this monster. While I admit I've been as gleeful a spectator of this train wreck as anyone else, my rage regarding the salaries of the morons running the Bears made me raise a question in my little head.

Why isn't anyone incredibly angry about $50 million being spent on a fucking Broadway musical? Is there a more wasteful way to spend money? As a commercial production, this is a guaranteed disaster. No one in his or her right mind would invest in this thing because there is no possible way it could ever recoup.

Investing thus becomes charity.

Charity.

Think of that word there and let it run around in your head. You have investors making charitable donations so a superhero musical directed by a madwoman with a score written by fucking Bono and The Edge, can go up on Broadway.

I wonder how many seasons TimeLine Theatre or Remy Bumppo, for example, could produce on its current annual budget if someone handed them $52 million. They wouldn't need a single person to buy a ticket for decades! How many theaters out there are struggling while these fucking criminals are sinking money like this into the Titanic.

Is this going to someone save the economy of Times Square? Is this doing anything for anyone but feed the infinite ego of a few insane "artists?"

I'll say this much: Anyone, anyone, who invests in this should be revealed in print and mocked until he or she cannot stand the shame of being seen in public. It's fucking shameful. It's bullshit. I hope this thing never goes up.

Alcyone Festival 2010

Halcyon Theatre has announced the lineup for its Alcyone Festival 2010, its annual celebration of female playwrights. That's right, folks. Women write plays too, and more than the three or four represented in regional theaters around the country. Isn't that absolutely SHOCKING???

Next year's festival runs from January 21 through February 27 at the Lincoln Square Theatre in the Barry United Methodist Church at 4754 North Leavitt.

This next festival celebrates the work of María Irene Fornés. Artistic Director Tony Adams is quotes in the news release: "When we were thinking of a theme for this year's Alcyone Festival, everything we thought of hovered around Irene. So we decided to focus this year on her. I think she has had a greater impact on the American Theatre than any writer other than Eugene O'Neill, but most people don't know much of her work.”

The festival features: Letters from Cuba directed by Juan Castañeda, Manual for a Desperate Crossing directed by Coya Paz, Sarita directed by Gina LoPiccolo, Summer in Gossensass directed by Lavina Jadhwani, Tango Palace directed by Adam Dodds, What of the Night directed by Margo Gray.

Exact dates and times of all the shows in rep will be announced soon.

Things Not to Pay a Hundred Bucks For

Let's start with the first thing one should not have to pay a hundred bucks for: Perhaps...a play? I've been getting behind on pithy comments about theater news lately because of work and illness, so I'm probably just repeating something someone else already said.

There have been all kinds of theories as to why the recent Broadway revival of Brighton Beach Memoirs closed a week after opening night, a revival that is mainly of interest to those of us in our fair burg who wish nothing but the absolute best for director David Cromer, who has been taking on the "Local Boy Makes Good" role for a while now. First of all, I'm not happy for Cromer because he's been getting work in New York. New York is just another town. No, I'm happy for him because he's in position to make a living directing plays, something as likely these days as making a living as a piano player accompanying silent films.

Being invited to Houston's Alley Theatre to direct The Farnsworth Invention is just as significent and awesome as being invited to direct on Broadway. I'm not sure how Cromer himself feels about it, but that's how I would feel. If a person wants to direct plays for a living, directing plays for a living is the goal, no matter where those plays are being produced.

Directing on Broadway obviously means a better living. That's where the money is, and that's fine. But let's not forget that Broadway is pretty much about suckering audiences to come spend three figures to see a play they could see for less, done a little later somewhere else just as well. You go to Broadway, you're part of the whole racket of convincing people to spend that outrageous amount of money.

There's a lot of hooey out there about how Neil Simon's time has passed him by and audiences don't "get" him anymore or anything. Simon's timeless. His plays seem effortless because so much effort was put into them. But he wrote plays for audiences that weren't forking over a hundred bucks. Now, audiences demand EVENT THEATER for that outrageous amount of money. Frankly, they should demand oral sex for that much money, but that's a whole other blog post. Doing Brighton Beach Memoirs and Broadway Bound in repertory would have been a great idea in a smaller theater. 'Nuff said.

Yes, Go Do That Thing to Hilton Als

If I actually met Tracy Letts, chances are he'd scare the shit out of me and I'd act like a doofus because it would be like meeting Edward Albee or David Mamet. What do you say to someone who can say stuff like "Fuck Hilton Als" and get away with it because he's brilliant? The thing is, he's right, you know. One should fuck Hilton Als, because the man is the personification of everything that has gone wrong with the American theater, that superiority complex that somehow believes that New York is the center of American theater, which it is not.

America is the center of American theater.

From an interview with Tracy Letts on the Globe and Mail website:

Your new play on Broadway, Superior Donuts, has a more diverse cast of characters. One of its main characters is the young African-American Franko Wicks, played by Jon Michael Hill. Hilton Als criticized this character in his review in New Yorker, writing: "He is funky but not rough, jokey but not menacing, intelligent but not challenging: in short, he is an acceptable black man. ... a racial trap, a repository for all our liberal feelings." What do you think about that characterisation?

Fuck Hilton Als. That's what I think. I had not read that. Donuts is one of the first plays for which I never read the reviews. My girlfriend sort of vetted them for me and showed me a couple that knew wouldn't get me too angry. But Fuck Hilton Als - and I would have said that after his review of August: Osage County, which I did read. He's an asshole.

I've been trying to think of a clever way to articulate my opinion on Als' writing, and Letts does it with just three words. Awesome. Als' review of August: Osage County, which is frankly one of the most offensively boneheaded reviews written by anyone in recent memory, appeared in The New Yorker a couple of years ago:

But here, in his Broadway début, he clearly intends to prove himself a “major” playwright. To do so, he parodies his roots, rather than revealing them. Letts could very well end up winning prizes for “August: Osage County.” But so did the playwright Preston Jones, with his “Texas Trilogy,” in the mid-seventies. Like Letts, Jones was a provincial writer of promise who was pulled onto the Broadway boards too soon for his own good. Now his work is rarely performed at all.

Here's what pisses me off about bad theater reviews, and this one in particular: You didn't do your fucking research and you can't read the playwright's mind. August was not written with the intention of making it to Broadway. Anyone who thought a 13-character, three-hour play with no movie stars would ever make it to Broadway before it was produced is out of his or her fucking mind. It was written to be the fifth show in Steppenwolf Theatre's 2006-2007 subscription season. End of story. Was Letts' intention was to "become a major playwright?" I don't know. I thought he wrote the play to write a play. Did Keith Huff write A Steady Rain specifically because he thought Hugh Jackman and Daniel Craig could take it to Broadway? Um, I don't think so.

Als is also assuming as a Chicago writer, Letts is provincial, and I'm assuming he's employing the Merriam-Webster definition of provincial as "a person of local or restricted interests or outlook" or "a person lacking urban polish or refinement."

Ooooh, this just makes me so mad!

Movie poster of the week

Rhino Fest 2010

Curious Theatre Branch has announced that Rhino Fest 2010 will begin January 22, 2010 and end February 14, 2010 at Prop Thtr.

This is the 21st annual festival, and I've missed the previous 20. Why? Because I'm a dope, that's why. Complete schedule information isn't available yet, but the company warns you all that it is forthcoming. Beware!!

Holiday Productions We Have Yet to See

Alas, even in Chicago, the theater capital of North America (that's right, suckers), the holiday season brings with it a stunning lack of imagination. A lot of this has to do with the fiscal realities of the holiday season, of course, and I understand why Victory Gardens has The Snow Queen and the Goodman has A Christmas Carol and A Red Orchid (and Next Theatre too!) has A Very Merry Unauthorized Children's Scientology Pageant, yadda yadda yadda. My favorite holiday production is, of course, American Buffalo at Steppenwolf, because what better thing to do during the time of yuletide than watch Tracy Letts finally back on stage in a play that Mamet wrote when he actually mattered?

So what are we missing in the holiday season? Here are some serious alternative holiday suggestions for Chicago theater companies during the time of joy and all that shit:

Santa and the Snowmobile by Jill Gallina: This 20-minute musical playlet is normally designed for performance by children grades 2 through 5. This is pretty much what you'd expect from Jacques Tati if he wrote musicals for children, a madcap romp through Christmas when poor Santa attempts to modernize by replacing his reindeer with a snowmobile. Hijinks and song naturally ensue! Back in the Christmas of 1982, yours truly played Santa Claus in the 5th Grade in this show, and I have to say I was terrible. But it was fun.

It Happened One Christmas: I think what the world wants is a stage adaptation of this 1977 TV-movie remake of It's a Wonderful Life with Marlo Thomas in the George Bailey role. I've never actually seen this movie, and I'm sure it's long out of circulation, but if you'll look at the IMDB listing, you'll see that Orson Welles played Mr. Potter and Christopher Guest as Harry Bailey. Why this film is not available and thus universally beloved is beyond me. A stage adaptation would be a perfect idea.

The Mickey Mouse and Star Wars Holiday Special: What better time of year to risk a lawsuit from two of the most legendarily litigious entertainment empires on the planet? By inserting Mickey Mouse into the Chewbacca role of one of the most notorious TV specials in the history of the human race, you, the theatrical producer can not only get sued by Lucasfilm, but Disney too! There is a limitless amount of marketing potential, since Bea Arthur was in the cast of the Star Wars Holiday Special and you can always fashion this as a tribute.

The Four Christmases of Fred Claus: I think I'm a fan of merging properties into one stage super-spectacular, so what better way to exploit unfortunate fans of the meagerly-talented Minneapolis native Vince Vaughn than to adapt two of his recent terribly-received Christmas movies into ONE BIG STAGE MUSICAL OF GLORIOUS HOLIDAY FUN!! HOLY CRAP!!!

There are, of course, plenty of other properties just aching for a holiday stage production, but this should be a pretty good start for those companies who just don't know where to start. Best of luck, everybody!

Donation Season

(Originally posted November 8, 2007. My apologies for the rerun, but I've been very busy with my wife's birthday weekend, and the subsequent catching-up on things after the birthday weekend. Enjoy!)

It's that time of year. I'm getting at least one piece of mail from a local non-profit theater every single day, pleading with me for some money. The most entertaining part of these pieces of mail are the benefits that these theaters come up with for different tiers of donations. I had some experience with this when the Playground Theater finally came up with its 501(c)3 back in 1999 and we started soliciting donations.

Some notes for the small theater company seeking donors:

• You have to come up with a clever name for the donors in each tier. For example, if you donate $0-99, you give some kind of a moniker like "Bauxite Donor" or "Gil Gerard." For $100-499, you're a "Copper Donor" or "Simon McCorkindale." For $500-999, you get to be called a "Bronze Donor" or "Lee Horsley."
• You have to come up with different tiers of rewards. If you donate $0-99, your reward is a letter that says "Thank you." If you donate $100-499, your reward is a letter that says "Thank you" and is TYPED instead of handwritten PLUS a bumper sticker with the theater logo. If you donate $500-999, your reward is the typed letter, the bumper sticker AND an actual T-shirt emblazoned with the company logo. Et cetera.
• You have to reward people at some point with their name on a chair. There's nothing that rich people love more than to see their names on a fucking chair. The tricky part is, of course, giving that reward to a higher tier without making it too high or too low. You want names on chairs to convince patrons that a lot of people are donating money but you don't want too many names on chairs and end up running out of chairs. Because the name-on-chair thing is an absolute must. Remove the name-on-chair as a reward and people will just stop donating money. I forget what the tier was for a name on a chair at the Playground, but I think it was $500 and above. But we were a tiny theater. You may have to start higher.
• Be imaginative about your perks for donors. Jen's and my favorite? Remy Bumppo has a perk for "Alexander Wolcott" donors who give $10,000 or more to the company: A play reading in your home led by an Artistic Associate. Jen would, of course, surrender all of our savings to have David Darlow reading a play on our sofa, but I wouldn't have any of it. What I want to know is whether the donor gets to pick the play. If I could reasonably donate $10,000 I'm sure I'd have a big living room and would pick a play with an enormous cast and is insanely long. I think I'd choose The Kentucky Cycle or Nicholas Nickleby. Ooh! Or maybe Strange Interlude. Why not get my ten grand's worth?
• If a theater company actually calls you for money and you're affiliated with another theater company, tell the person that calls that you'll donate money to their company if he or she donates to yours. It's only fair. I can't tell you how many Goodman telemarketers I baffled with that one. If a theater's donors include anyone named "United Airlines," then I get to be a smart ass.
  
• In the donor list you eventually publish in some manner, just stick a couple of Anonymouses in the list, especially in the higher tiers, just to impress people that your theater is so dangerous and cutting-edge that people will give you money anonymously.

Any other suggestions?

DCA Theaters' Spring 2010 Season

I just got this news release from the Chicago Department of Cultural Affairs, and what a breath of fresh air it is to see something from the city that isn't canceled next year! I'm feeling lazy, so I'm just going to copy and paste all the details from the news release because I'd like you to have all the details immediately available to you.

The variety of offerings on display here is downright staggering, offered both at either the Storefront Theater at 66 E. Randolph Street or the Studio Theater in the Chicago Cultural Center at 78 E. Washington Street. You should go to these things so this program doesn't go the way of the Chicago Outdoor Film Festival or Venetian Night.

From the news release:

The (edward) Hopper Project

Presented by WNEP Theater

January 15 – February 21, 2010

WNEP Theater brings to life a mosaic of characters inspired by the paintings of American realist artist Edward Hopper. In a series of vignettes and short moments written by WNEP company members, a dozen actors follow Hopper’s New York from dawn to dark and thrust the audience into the quiet desperation and dark comedy of the city.

Wiggerlover

Presented by James Anthony Zoccoli

February 5 – February 22, 2010

Part memoir, part editorial, all comedy, this is the totally too-good-to-be-true story of an interracial family in 1979 Chicago. Actor/writer James Anthony Zoccoli gives a retrospective account of his life as little Jimmy: a half-Italian, half-Polish kid who thinks he’s all Black when his White mother remarries an African-American man.

Beautiful City

Presented by Theater Mir

March 4 – April 3, 2010

“This is the future” begins this darkly comic fable about urban developers, criminals, law enforcement, and even a witch, all fighting for the soul and vision of a city. Set in an urban landscape ripe for redevelopment, the parable blends off-kilter characters, fast-paced storytelling, and stinging social satire in a tale of greed, corruption, and civic responsibility. Theatre Mir’s production marks the Chicago professional premiere of this work by George F. Walker, one of Canada’s most prolific and celebrated playwrights.

Cabaret

Presented by The Hypocrites

April 15 – May 23, 2010

Known for sexy, witty, and politically-charged numbers, Cabaret is also a backdrop for one of the darkest moments in world history. Set in Weimar Berlin just prior to Nazi rule, the play highlights the impact of global conflicts on the lives of everyday people. The Hypocrites, with guest director Matt Hawkins, circumvent the sometimes indulgent tradition of musicals, staging a more intimate production and depicting people in crisis struggling with the moments that define them.

The Doctor's Dilemma

Presented by ShawChicago

April 17 – May 10, 2010

ShawChicago returns to the Studio Theater with a staged reading of Bernard Shaw’s tale of Doctor Colenso Ridgeon. The newly knighted doctor has discovered a cure for tuberculosis but has only one slot left for the clinical trial. Should he choose a kindly medical colleague who ministers to the poor or a callous, amoral, but potentially great artist? And will his love for the artist’s wife interfere with his decision? A fascinating tug-of-war between art and science…and love, as only Shaw could tell it.

Dead Letter Office

Presented by Dog & Pony Theatre Company

June 9 – July 18, 2010

In this world premier thriller written by Ben Viccellio, each staff member of the Dead Letter Office communicates in his or her own special manner. While examining the changing nature of language in our digital culture, the play surveys the staff sorting the backlog of the postal system and searching for anything of value among the written letters. But when a newcomer joins the group, she uncovers a secret – a secret buried deep within the walls of the post office and threatened to be lost with the buildings imminent destruction.

Movie poster of the week

New Companies Alert!

In case you're tired of the same old theater companies and you're feeling a little adventurous this Halloween weekend, there are two productions from two new companies that you can see.

The first, Rendition Theatre, has a number of cagey veterans whose names should be quite familiar to long-time followers of the Chicago theater scene, including Michael J. Gellman, who is best known as a Second City teacher and director who has been affiliated with that institution since the '70s, and Ron Falzone, who has been around Chicago theater since 1972, holding major positions at companies like the Organic, City Lit, the Chancel Players and Open Circle Theatre Co.

Rendition describes itself as "a new collaboration of theatre artists presenting classical theatre pieces rarely performed, in locations which enhance the story telling of the play. We work from classical literary source, explore new ideas, and workshop as an ensemble."

Its first production has a brief run but certainly seems to fulfill its mission with a production of August Strindberg's Creditors directed by Gellman at the very appropriate Swedish American Museum at 5211 N. Clark Street. There are currently only four more performances scheduled, although an extension is possible, so check it out Thursday, Friday or Saturday at 8:00pm or Sunday at 7:00pm. Tickets are $20 and reservations can be made by e-mailing deborahannsmith@sbcglobal.net.

Meanwhile, Prologue Theatre Company is premiering what appears to be its first production with a revival of Mae West's Sex. The scandalous 1926 play is sort of a fascinating one to revive, considering that Mae West as a character is such an integral part of the show, so I'm interested to see whether we will see a West-esque performance, sort of like the quandary that faced the folks at the Goodman with Animal Crackers.

I have no idea how the show will be, but I'm always intrigued by revivals outside of the ordinary. The company states its mission on its website: "The past is prologue: Our mission is to produce unique stories from a variety of cultures and eras to explore the influences that shape our times. We empower audiences to consider where we go from here."

Sex begins performances this Thursday night and runs Thursdays through Saturdays at 8:00pm through November 21 at the North Lakeside Cultural Center at 6219 N. Sheridan Road. Tickets are $15.

IMPORTANT - Find This Dog a Home

Off-topic here: Jen and I just adopted a dog from BREW (Beagle Rescue, Education and Welfare) the other week and can only take care of the one dog, so unfortunately we're unable to help out here, but I thought it would be remiss of me not to share this with you on my blog.

Neo-Futurist (and adapter of New Leaf Theatre's production of The Man Who Was Thursday) Bilal Dardai and his wife are temporarily taking care of a dog found at the intersection of Irving Park and California and she needs a new home.

Please read this, and if you can't help, please pass along to someone who might be able to help. Take it from me. There are few more fulfilling things in the world than bringing into your life a rescued animal.

From Bilal's LiveJournal: http://bdar.livejournal.com/424088.html.

YouTube of the Week

Let's not talk about the "marketing potential" of YouTube. Let's talk about how wonderful it is that you can pretty much watch anything you want anytime you want. Some theater companies and theater folks have utilized this wonderful tool, so I'm going to try to bring attention to some of the videos out there every week that you can watch in the comfort of your own homes. Maybe you've seen these. Maybe you haven't.

Our first entry consists of two of a series of videos from this past summer's inaugural class of the Lunt-Fontanne Fellowship Program. Ten actors nominated by regional theaters around the country spent a week with Lynn Redgrave at Ten Chimneys in Genesee Depot, Wisconsin. Two Chicago actors, Francis Guinan (nominated by Steppenwolf Theatre) and Mary Beth Fisher (nominated by Goodman Theatre), were part of this class, and they both have their own videos featuring some of their work from the class, as well as their own reflections as fellows. Information on all the inaugural fellows can be found right here.

Both these actors simply blow me away every time I see them on stage, and I do not exaggerate when I say that I would watch Francis Guinan read the telephone book for two hours. Maybe even three. I'm not sure.

Here they are:

Mojo Mickybo

Seanachaí Theatre Company has announced the Midwest Premiere of Owen McCafferty's 1998 play Mojo Mickybo at The Artistic Home at 3914 N. Clark Street. There will be half-price previews this Thursday and Friday ($13 instead of $26) at 8:00pm with a press opening Halloween night (Spooooky!) and an official opening "night" performance this Sunday, November 1 at 3:00pm.

Last fall, the company produced McCafferty's Scenes from the Big Picture at the Storefront Theatre, receiving an Equity Jeff Nomination for Best Ensemble. This Midwest premiere features Robert Kauzlaric and Dan Waller portraying 17 characters in McCafferty's story of "wee lads" Mojo and Mickybo, a Protestant and a Catholic who are inspired by the premiere of the film Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid, as they fight against the world in 1970 Belfast.

For your reference, here are links to a Guardian review of a 2007 production at Trafalgar Studios in London and a Washington Post review of a 2007 Keegan Theatre production. Enjoy!

Treasure Island

I saw this at Lifeline Theatre about a week and a half ago, and I've spent much of that time trying to figure out why it's such a hit with both critics and audiences when I didn't like it very much. Is there something so terribly wrong with me that I wasn't at all crazy about it? Mind you, this theater company has not lost its knack for miraculously shoehorning an epic tale into its snug confines. Alan Donohue's multi-level set evoking all the finest pirate tales of yore is positively matchless, something Douglas Fairbanks or Errol Flynn could easily call home. Still, this adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson's legendary tale of Long John Silver and the young orphaned Jim Hawkins is slightly muddled, in large part due to it not being entirely clear where everything was actually happening. There was also the unfortunate performance of the young actor playing Jim Hawkins, who displayed very little stage presence and an accent that reminded me of Kevin Costner as Robin Hood. In fact, accents were pretty much all over the place in this production and one wonders if the production would have benefited from just throwing them out.

So, yes, this is a flawed production, probably the most flawed I've seen at Lifeline. There are flourishes here and there of the kind of energy displayed in The Mark of Zorro from last year, and who doesn't love pirates? But obviously this adaptation is a harder nut to crack than Zorro, despite all the fun with guns and swords. Still, the stage combat is as good as ever. Swords. Guns. Pirates. Maybe my criticism is for naught.

Psychological Fakery

Although I'm an "unproduced" playwright, I've still written enough material since the age of eight years old to form at least some modicum of understanding of the themes that fascinate me as a writer. What exactly those themes are has certainly changed considerably since I was eight years old, but in the last several years, what I've discovered is that I have a particular fascination with lies. People lie constantly. They might lie to protect someone or protect themselves or their lies may be their entire lives as composed by the realities they construct around themselves in order to survive the daily horrors of existence.

Yeah, I know. I write comedy. Isn't that hysterical? My own upbringing was in the Western Suburbs, which is full of people like Constantine Xinos of Oak Brook, who has been a staunch fighter against horrid things like subsidized senior housing, proclaiming, "I don't want to live next to poor people. I don't want poor people in my town." These were the kinds of scumbags I grew up around, you gotta understand. I lived in unincorporated Clarendon Hills and our family represented a prime example of the cunning genius of the ultra-conservative movement, which is its ability to gain the steadfast support of the people it hurts most. My father was, and still is, a staunch Republican, despite being laid off half a dozen times from manufacturing firms in the '80s. Listening to Rush Limbaugh constantly over the past 15 years, his latest fervent belief is that President Obama is setting the stage to declare himself dictator. (Now that I think of it, to call these beliefs Republican is an insult to Republicans, for which I apologize.) There were also the inevitable "family secrets" untold for decades. Being raised this way, needless to say, the theme of lies and the culture of fear has become most fascinating to me.

What I've come to realize is that my writing style is one of psychological fakery. Here's the very beginning of my two-act play Calvin Exits:

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(Spotlight on CALVIN TURLEY, 17, pretending to hold a microphone. He is staring out the living room window. His mother, ALICE TURLEY, 43, sits at a card table in the middle of the room, looking through a history book.)

CALVIN

This is Calvin Turley reporting live for Channel 2. The mysterious automobile still sits in front of our old and yucky building. It does not move. It does not move at all! Dear viewers, your faithful reporter has been sitting at this window for years to bear witness to the atrocities of humanity, but nothing has quite puzzled this reporter like the sight of an automobile with only three wheels. It just sits there. You would think someone would have replaced the wheel or else set the automobile on fire or used the trunk to store dead bodies.

ALICE

Calvin, please stop staring out the window.

CALVIN

Why, mother?

ALICE

Someone will pass by on the street and see you through the window. And then they will shoot you through the window. Your beautiful and gifted brain will end up on the living room wall if you stare out the window.

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Is this absurdity, or just a simply little exaggeration of the reality that people create around themselves? I think this might be one of the reasons a play like this is hard to peg down, or define, as a literary manager, because this doesn't fit within the realm of "psychological realism" and I don't think it fits under "absurdity" either. I've gotten rejection letters for this play that say they like it, but they usually don't produce absurdity, or that it's too "stylized" for them, and while I applaud them for actually reading the thing, it's more than a little disappointing that the main reason they're rejecting a play is because it's "stylized." It's not like I wrote Not I here. What I created was a satire on lies and the culture of fear in which characters have created their own reality to cope with reality.

The concept is absurd: Henry and Alice Turley have kept their teenage son Calvin inside their Lincoln Park condo his entire life, never allowing him outside because of the sick depraved world around them, and the premise involves the strange appearance of a girl named Tara inside his bedroom. Everything about the setting of the play is a lie. However, everything that happens has a purpose. The play has a dramatic purpose, the narrative is very traditional cause-and-effect, but the world is absurd. Maybe it's that strange combination of reality and absurdity, the idea that I somehow don't commit to one or the other, that might turn a reader off. So, rather than saying it's a combination of two things, I should just make up a name for it, and what I came up with was psychological fakery. I should trademark it, like Pat Riley trademarked "Threepeat."

Call Her Savage (Dillon, 1932)

(Originally posted May 5, 2008)

Silent screen legend Clara Bow was born in 1905 and grew up in desperate poverty in New York slums, raised by a sexually abusive father and prostitute mother, dire circumstances from which she only escaped when she entered a fan magazine contest that promised that the winner would star in a real Hollywood movie. She won, of course, and embarked on a career that brought her stardom, albeit in vehicles that were mostly poor and those that weren't so poor, are unfortunately lost to the ages as part of the 90% of films from the silent era that have long since disintegrated into oblivion.

Fortunately, a small selection of her silent work still survives. The two most notable, both from 1927, are: Wings, a World War I epic that won the first Academy Award for Best Picture, a film in which Bow plays a supporting role but one that sticks in the mind; and It, based in part on author Elinor Glyn's creation of the idea of "It," that indefinable quality that separates the desirable from the rest of us poor slobs. The film itself is no masterpiece to be sure, but it's the one that captures most of her absolutely unparalleled screen presence. Garbo looked the most ravishing, the most like a Goddess on the screen, but what Clara Bow had was this incredibly infectious sexual energy. Of course the film is outdated to the extreme, the story of a department store employee who does her best to win her boss's affections, but it's one of the great examples of a film carried almost entirely by the star's charisma.

Unfortunately, Clara Bow would fall victim to the talking picture era two years later. Now, the cliche about silent picture actors was that none of their voices were up to par for the talking picture era, which is true for some. Foreign actors like Emil Jannings, Pola Negri, and Vilma Banky had almost indecipherable accents (only Garbo would survive Hollywood's accent-phobia). Actors like Norma Talmadge and John Gilbert would fall victim to audiences' expectations. (Of course, the whole thing destroyed Gilbert and he would descend into alcoholism and die in 1936, but you watch him in Rouben Mamoulian's Queen Christina opposite Garbo and he actually isn't half bad.)

But often times, the failure of silent screen stars to make the transition to sound was a little trickier. Douglas Fairbanks, for one, just didn't like the new way of making pictures and simply lost interest. Mary Pickford kept picking terrible material and lost confidence. And Clara Bow? She had a paralyzing fear of the microphone.

I actually have a VHS copy of her first talkie, The Wild Party, directed by Dorothy Arzner, from 1929, and she isn't all that bad in the part. She has a distinct Brooklyn twang, and of course the staging and everything is very primitive, being a talking picture from 1929, but it's far better than Pickford's Coquette or Harold Lloyd's Welcome Danger, to name a couple of other silent stars' talking debuts.

And Bow continued making talking pictures for Paramount through 1931, many of which were box-office successes even if they really weren't any good. Bow was still a box-office commodity, but alas, undiagnosed mental illness and her fear of the microphone resulted in a nervous breakdown that seemed to spell an end to her career and Paramount released her from her contract.

Bow went into seclusion and slowly recovered over the course of a year, until in 1932, Fox Film Corp. (three years before merging with 20th Century Productions) signed her to a one-picture, $75,000 deal that gave her a choice of material, writer and director. It was a pretty good deal and ample proof that Clara Bow's popularity had not waned.

The picture she ended up making was Call Her Savage, and it's one of the most legendary of all the Pre-Code pictures, one that I've wanted to see for years.

"Pre-Code" refers to that golden age of 1930-1934. The Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America had drafted a Production Code in 1930, outlining all the do's and don'ts for the Hollywood film industry. Rather than face the possibility of government-mandated censorship, the film industry decided to censor itself.

You can find the full text of the Code here: The Motion Picture Production Code of 1930.

Pretty silly, huh? Well, most of the studios thought so too, and rather aggressively bypassed the whole thing until Joseph Breen and the Catholic League of Decency used strong-arm tactics like threats of boycotts to force the industry to actually enforce the code starting in 1934.

Because of this censorship, major American films created between 1930 and 1934 are the most bold that would be made until the mid-1960's. And few were bolder than Call Her Savage.

The film has never been made available in any form of video, so it was with great anticipation that I saw that the film was being aired on the Fox Movie Channel. I recorded it on my DVR and watched the darn thing.

And Wow!

The concept of the film is inherently racist, first of all. Bow plays Nasa Springer, a hellcat whose anti-social, wild, savage behavior is explained away by the fact that her father is not her mother's husband but a Native American with whom her mother had a torrid affair. This makes Nasa an illegitimate "half breed."

We see Clara Bow sans bra when the studio must have been very chilly!

We see her whipping a studly young "half breed!"

We see her romp suspiciously with a Great Dane!

We see her get married to a philanderer and learn he has an unnamed sexually transmitted disease, which she of course contracts!

We see her give birth to a baby that may or may not have contracted the disease!

We see her forced to prostitute herself in order to pay for her medicine!

We see her baby die in a fire while she's out whoring!

We see her get in no less than three hair-pulling fights!

We see her fend off a rapist!

And, yes, we actually see her go into a Greenwich Village gay bar, where we see singing waiters in drag!

Pretty astonishing stuff, really. Bow, of course, is just a powerhouse in this thing. It's hysterical. Amazing. Great fun. I had a blast watching this incredibly bizarre film.

Unfortunately, Bow made only one more film before devoting herself to what she thought would be domestic bliss. The next three decades of her life were spent battling mental illness until she died at the age of 60 in 1965. But we'll always have Call Her Savage.

16th Street Theater's 2010 Season

This morning, I ended up checking out the website of 16th Street Theater, led by artistic director Ann Filmer, and lo and behold, there is listed its 2010 Season! The company's third season is chock full of works old and new, and most importantly, CHICAGOAN. Granted, the company's in Berwyn, but this lineup is pure Chicago. I like it. I'm impressed. I need to get my ass down there.

Reproduced from the company's website thanks to the power of copy-and-paste, here's the company's 2010 Season:

THIS TRAIN
Written and performed by Tony Fitzpatrick
Jan 21 – 30, 2010
Directed by Ann Filmer
There are bums. There are tramps. There are hobos. And then there’s Tony. Some guys just can’t fit in.

Fine artist and raconteur Tony Fitzpatrick delves into the Hobo Alphabet for a musically-entertaining, visually-rich and never dull night of theater. “Tony Fitzpatrick writes poetry like he does everything else – for keeps.” – Steve Earle

THE END OF THE TOUR
by Joel Drake Johnson
February 4 – March 6, 2010
Directed by Cecilie Keenan
Andrew Morris shares only one thing with former President Ronald Reagan and that’s the town of Dixon, Illinois. When a frantic phone call from his sister forces Andrew to return home with his partner, the audience is taken on an often comic, sometimes disturbing tour of the lives of loved ones who still walk the line. “Johnson creates characters so real you wonder what will happen to them after the final blackout.” – Albert Williams, Chicago Reader

Joel Drake Johnson is the author of The Fall to Earth (Steppenwolf), Four Places (Victory Gardens) and A Blue Moon (Chicago Dramatists). He is a Jeff Award recipient, a two-time winner of the Illinois Arts Council grant and an Emmy award nominee. He is a member of the Victory Gardens Playwrights Ensemble. Part of 100 Club & 3-play series!

16th Street Theater and Teatro Vista…Theatre with a View present

OUR LADY OF THE UNDERPASS
by Tanya Saracho
April 1 – May 1, 2010
Directed by Sandra Marquez
The remount of the critically-acclaimed Jeff-Nominated 2009 production takes place at the 5-year anniversary of the Holy sighting under the bridge. The same week that Rome announced a new Pope, a woman driving home from work spotted an image of the Virgin Mary on a discolored wall of the Fullerton Avenue underpass. Inspired by real life interviews, playwright Tanya Saracho renders the voices of those who were drawn to that wall, exploring issues of faith and desire in present day Chicago.

Tanya Saracho returns to 16th Street where her play Kita y Fernanda garnered a Jeff-Nomination for Best New Work. She is the Co-Founder and Co-Artistic Director for Teatro Luna, Chicago’s All-Latina Theater Ensemble. "Absolutely don't miss this really special piece! Saracho's ear is terrific." – Kelly Kleiman, WBEZ. Part of 100 Club & 3-play series!

Victory Gardens Fresh Squeezed in association with 16th Street Theater presents…

UNVEILED at Victory Gardens Theater
by Rohina
March 24 – April 4, 2010
Directed by Ann Filmer
Racism, hate crimes, love, Islam, tea, culture, language, life, and hope interweave in this compelling one-woman show about Muslim women in a post-9/11 world.

“A terrific show... intellectually engrossing work of theater.”
– Nina Metz, Chicago Tribune

Rohina is a writer and actress who specializes in solo performance. She was born and raised in London, England, and draws upon her Indo-Pakistani heritage for inspiration for her art. She performed at Live Bait Theater's Fillet of Solo, and workshopped Unveiled with Rivendell Theatre Ensemble.

Single Tickets are $25 Part of 100 Club series!

INCOGNITO
written and performed by Michael Sidney Fosberg
May 6 – 29, 2010
A one man show about identity, race, stereotypes and “how, in an instant, one’s sense of self can be altered forever.” – Jack Helbig, Chicago Reader.

“An engrossing and deeply moving trip… It will shake you to your own roots.” – Richard Christiansen, Chicago Tribune

MENORCA
by Robert Koon, 16th Street Theater Playwright-in-Residence
September 16 – October 16, 2010
Directed by Ann Filmer
On the island of Menorca, an archeological dig reveals human remains. In the Southern California desert, a border is being watched and guarded. The present intrudes on the past as boundaries are set, crossed, and broken. All in the search for the identity of a woman misplaced.

Robert Koon’s plays include Vintage Red and the Dust of the Road (Jeff Award for New Work), St. Colm’s Inch and Odin’s Horse. He is a Resident Playwright at Chicago Dramatists and a recipient of the Ecodrama national award for new work. Menorca was developed at the William Inge Theatre Festival. This is its world premiere. Part of 100 Club & 3-play series!

Movie poster of the week

The Julius Peppers of American Theater

I'll say it. Reading some reviews of the Roundabout Theatre Company's Broadway revival of Bye Bye Birdie, I was amused. Some critics had fun with bird puns in their headlines, with Adam Feldman's review a masterpiece of snark. Schadenfreude can be fun.

So where's the anger? Todd Haimes, artistic director of the Roundabout, put together a cast that couldn't sing and gets paid hundreds of thousands of dollars a year. I'll tell you, I could put together a cast that can't sing for next to nothing. Why can't I take over the Roundabout? I've seen some fine Roundabout shows in the three years in the middle of this decade that I managed to make it to New York, including Cabaret, which managed to overcome the presence of Gina Gershon, and a revival of Twentieth Century. Were they any better than something I could see here for a lot less money? Nuh-uh. So why isn't the best-paid artistic director responsible for the best theater? Shouldn't that be the way it is? And what does someone have to do to get fired from an A.D. job in this country? Kill someone? Because, bottom line, a misstep like this should be a fireable offense if you're supposed to be the best of everybody.

(Julius Peppers, by the way, is a defensive end for the Carolina Panthers who is getting paid $14 million to basically do nothing this season.)