Letters to Holly

Friday, October 5

Act Three lines

A mid-day email states that Brick from Cat is on board as the private eye, and I assume he'll start next Wednesday when we get back to Act One. He'll be fine in the role, but I have to admit top a surprising streak of nervousness now. The stupid voice in my head frets aloud about the chances that the director will switch our roles. It's inexplicable. It's silly. But there it is, gnawing away at my brains. Something in me is intimidated by the actor.

We start tonight with the housekeeper scene from Act One because that actress is going away for another week. I'm not ready for this bit, and I have to use my script more than I'd like. That done, we start Act Three. The judge is absent so the defendant's real-life son reads for him and does much better with no previous reading. Too bad he's about 16. He does despair mightily when he flips the last pages to see the length of the closing arguments. All he can do is sit it out. Rehearsals can be pretty damn boring if you have no lines. This is why I did so much drawing during the last show.

I have pretty good energy with the defendant tonight. I'm trying to vary the delivery, making the attorney play dumb in some areas and quickly going into attack mode on the next line. This is the classic attorney style we've seen on TV and in movies. This is the fun stuff. You can hear the whispering of actors memorizing their lines or simply chatting as we run the act, and this is good practice for ignoring rude audience members. I'm not saying these people are rude (I'm memorizing lines at my attorney table too), but you have to build up your anti-distraction muscles.

I need to find a quote for this show's "poster" magnet, and the best lines are in this act. This is where people make dramatic declarations of the lengths they'd travel to get what they want. The father-in-law actor is already off book for this act, and it makes me admire him all the more. The gangster is close to leaving his script behind too. These are good actors, and they're relishing their roles. I'm reading while delivering my closing argument, and I don't have a handle on it yet. It's so full of exclamation points that I'm actually getting frothy by the third page (third page!). The director instructs both attorneys to walk with confidence as we stroll the courtroom and says she's wisely decided not to choreograph our movements. We'll move as the script and mood directs us. I appreciate that. I'll be able to swagger more when I'm not reading, walking, and talking.

I have ten days to finish memorizing the script and give myself two full weeks of rehearsals before we open. I have about 20 pages left to go, and it's feasible. I feel good about my pace of learnin'.

Rehearsals
Dusting Off Act One
Line Trouble
End of Second Week
'Go and Do Likewise, Gents'
Script Work
J'Accuse
Cramming
Walking and Talking
Readthrough
Marking the Floor

Auditions

First Night
Second Night
Third Night
Fourth Night

Picture of the Day
The summer home.

Thursday, October 4

Dusting Off Act One

It's been exactly a week since we'd run Act One, and I spent a little time during my commute running lines from memory. And I didn't do too well. But I was worried about cramming before I try a no-look rehearsal, so I stayed away from the script when I got home for supper. I also didn't pick up Cormac McCarthy's The Road, to which I am now hooked.

We didn't have the full complement tonight, not even of this act's characters. We still have no private eye, and we're now within a month of opening. This has to be addressed. Doc is convinced we can lasso the lead from Cat; he's worked with this group before, and he can surely tackle this small part. He even has the right 'New Yok' accent for the role. We're missing the handwriting expert, the medical examiner, the father-in-law, the defendant, but the last two have very few lines here. The actors playing the cop and the widow pull double duty to read those parts.

I was feeling icky earlier in the day but a double shot of Dayquil kept me upright and breathing. I nailed the opening arguments the first time and did pretty well all night, but I did carry my script so as not to delay the rehearsal by smacking my head to dislodge the lines. Between runs we chat about lines, and Doc asks how many I have. I haven't counted. I don't wanna know. Doc says he's got 530. My amount has to be comparable, and know I have the burden of knowledge that I have more than 500 lines to get right. I don't need this in my head. The number solidifies the stature of the role, but that also works in my favor. I'm reminded I have the part I wanted. That makes me smile.

Doc and I ratchet up our attorney confrontations, and we're now yelling at each other during the act. It's fun. I like this adversarial energy running underneath the testimony suspense.

Rehearsals
Line Trouble
End of Second Week
'Go and Do Likewise, Gents'
Script Work
J'Accuse
Cramming
Walking and Talking
Readthrough
Marking the Floor

Auditions

First Night
Second Night
Third Night
Fourth Night


Your Sis is working her ass off at school, and something has to change. She's coming home when I am, putting her daily work hours at about 14. That's nuts. She's a hard worker of course, but she needs a new tactic to work smarter. I don't know enough about her material to help, and that frustrates me. All I can do is watch, rub her feet, and feed her ice cream.

Your Mom is mucho worried about Thanksgiving in the same way My Mom was/is. She called Your Sis for a 90-minute stressfest. Can the kids juggle a houseful of folks while taking care of the new baby? Should we stay away? Will we insult them by second-guessing their ability? I say we go if we're invited. But if Your Sis and I are outv -- you know, we might go anyway. I'm not saying we will. I'll tow the company line if Your Sis asks me to, but just because Your Mom stresses out over this doesn't mean we should shun them and the new baby. I'm just writing out loud here. I don't know what we'll do.


Picture of the Day
It's not all easy being Wonder Woman.

Wednesday, October 3

Line Trouble

The four-day break was good for memorizing, but it doesn't help us synch with each other. The first run-through of Act Two is dismal as we stumble a lot. The problem is that we're not used to hearing the cue lines.

Here's what happens. The Swedish housekeep is on the stage, and I'm questioning her. We have our scripts in hand but not reading them. I say my line, she responds. She stops talking, so I start with my next line. She remembers she didn't get all her line out, and she tries to get it out. I stop talking, let her finish, and say my line again. I start to forget my next line, so she starts talking, and I try to blurt out my lines as I recall them. It's a mess. Doc has written his lines on index cards, but he left out a page when transcribing and relies on the judge's script. The actor playing the father-in-law has his lines down cold. The defendant (who has a lot of lines in Act Two after a fairly quiet Act One) does very well. She wasn't here Thursday because of a migraine. The second run goes much, much better, and the housekeeper and I are almost acting when we try the scene again. I should have Act Two memorized by the end of the week; I only have three witnesses in this act.

We do have an assistant director now, but she seems sick. A number of us are sniffling through rehearsal tonight. But the assistant talks the director into spreading out the attorney tables and now we have much more room between the defense station and the witness stand. But we're now further away from the judge and must turn to address him. I think we'll eventually angle the tables to where they're almost facing each other and perpendicular to the audience.

I show my photos of the cheap suit to the director and the cast sees them. They're stunned to learn I paid $5 for it, and the director approves it for the show. I'll need to change ties between acts, but that's not a problem. I learned how to do a necktie sans mirror during my first Neil Simon show.

Rehearsals
End of Second Week
'Go and Do Likewise, Gents'
Script Work
J'Accuse
Cramming
Walking and Talking
Readthrough
Marking the Floor

Auditions

First Night
Second Night
Third Night
Fourth Night

Picture of the Day
Any excuse for Shatner to parade his tan.

Tuesday, October 2

Quick Football Update

The NFL Contest
HER PICKS
NFC: New Orleans (0-3), St. Louis (0-4)
AFC: Indianapolis (4-0), New England (4-0)

MY PICKS
NFC: New Orleans (0-3), Carolina (2-2)
AFC: New England (4-0), San Diego (1-3)

The Saints had the week off.

I won my first fantasy week match-up by .05 points, possibly the closest margin in the history of margins. My opponent and I both had New England players, and they again had a monster game last night.

Monday, October 1

She's 'Death Proof'-proof

Your Sis didn't like Death Proof, much to my sadness. We talked about it the next morning (over homemade pancakes), and she admitted she doesn't know enough about horror movies to appreciate the genre. But I also think she hasn't seen enough bad movies, trash movies, or Southern bootleg racing/pistol-packin' mama movies to dig it either. It held up for me on this second viewing. There's some additional footage, most notably the Act One subplot lapdance that was "cut" from the theatrical release. The Stuntman Mike character is fascinating. he's a boy with a toy (a killing car) but he's almost cartoonish and likable even as he's committing vehicular homicide.

The soundtrack remains stellar as does the film's best moment: Rosario Dawson's character gets a close-up of her face as we watch her shift from fear to bliss, and it's so pure a moment, so simple a shot, that it defines what we look for in movies. It's moments like this that make Tarantino a quality filmmaker. Not the gore and music and language and camera choices.

She worked most of Sunday while I finished the laundry and went over lines. I memorized up to half of the second act, and that was just with one witness. I also got a suit at the local Humane Society store for $5.

Speaking of the pancakes, the bacon smoke set off the fire alarm and filled the house with smoke. Tasty, comforting smoke. Late that night, just as we're abut to hit the hay, Your Sis decided we needed to reset the alarm. I do so. And then it started beeping every minute because the battery was dead. And we had no 9-volts. I throw my clothes back on and drive to the local convenience store (not many are open at 10 p.m. on Sunday in Mayberry), buy one, drive back home and install it. No more beeps. But this was not the cap I needed to the weekend.

I hope you did well on your test and that you can breathe easier when it's done.

Picture of the Day
The suit. I already had the tie, and I need to excavate my old pocketwatch chain. I'm stunned the local store had a suit that fit me so well without any noticeable stains or funky smells. And five bucks?! This is a divine gift.


Unsolicited Moment of Personal Reflection
Today is the sixth anniversary of my arrival home to find my wife had run away. I admit to a bit of shame for the failed marriage, but mostly I feel gratitude. I'm not saying she did the right thing. Nothing of her manner of departure and behavior was commendable. Or advisable. Or sensible. But my life improved many times over within a month of her leaving. And it's remained better since. Not one subsequent day has gone by that I would trade for another day with the ex.

That day was ultimately the most influential moment of my life, post-college, and I like to use the anniversary to take stock of what I've done since then. But I do this for 9/11 too as the days are only three weeks removed. I don't look wistfully out a window. I don't get teary eyed. I get happy. And very very relieved. But I do suppress the urge to email the ex and ask if she still thinks she did the right thing. Because I'm dead certain she's not better off for leaving what she claimed was a dismal relationship. This is the only bit of ego I regularly allow myself: She left the best thing she had.