Letters to Holly

Friday, October 19

My Big Speech

Here's what I got off iTunes with my bestowed freebie points:

Teenagers - My Chemical Romance
I thought it'd go well on the next mix CD for Your Sis. It's one of those songs that should be the product of a completely different band. This sounds like an old-school Aerosmith song with a Georgia Satellite guitar solo.

I'm Shipping Up to Boston - Dropkick Murphys
This is from the Departed soundtrack. She commented on this song during the film. I imagine you hear this song once a day.

Something About You - Level 42
Level 42 was of those '80s bands that were only able to align their musical stars once or twice. Squeeze was the same way. Their best-of collections are a bewildering mass of weak efforts. And then you hear the big songs, and it's as if someone else stepped in to arrange their elements in the magical combination to produce Good Pop Music. Now, Simple Minds, there was a band who made nothing but good stuff, although they're only known for Don't You Forget About Me. Their best-of anthology is quality from track to track. This was Level 42's first and biggest song, and it's a standout of the decade's British sythnesizer tunes.

Space Age Love Song - A Flock of Seagulls
The better of the band's two hits, eclipsed eternally by I Ran. There's nothing wrong with that song; in fact, it's a great rock song. But I like this ballad a lot. It has that sustained tone that punctuated the better '80s songs.

Stronger - Kanye West
Yes, the song I discovered in Washington during your time with us. It is a long tune -- over 5 minutes -- and I that was my impression when I saw the video. It sounds like the only banger from his latest CD.

Last week, I also bought the new Annie Lennox CD and managed to download the new Radiohead from their pay-as-you-will experiment. This new stuff is a tight collection, stronger than Hail to the Thief and maybe their best collection since OK Computer.

We run Act Three on Thursdays, but we don’t have the defendant tonight. She doesn’t call in to say she’s late or won’t make it. The first housekeeper reads her lines instead, and the change of rhythm shakes me off a few lines. She hasn’t seen this scene performed and, at one point, she leaves the witness stand to talk to the gangster. I stumble on a few lines but pick it back up.

What I’m most concerned with is the closing argument, the long monologue written with desperation to keep the jury from buying the conspiracy theory. I almost, almost nail it. I hesitate on one line because my brain didn’t connect the visual pieces of the script. I thought I had missed a line. I hadn’t; I just didn’t assemble those pieces. But I notice as I’m reciting the lines that it works better aloud than it does on the page. I’m not thrilled with the adamant vocal cues – italics or all caps – but when I say the lines, those cues work and work well. The closing speech is a testament to facts and logic, a clear opposition to the defense attorney’s plea for the jury to look within their souls and hearts. But because my character relies so heavily on the initial facts, he becomes emotional about their strength, but the script doesn’t give him the crack that makes him unhinged. He’s barely restrained, but clearly invested in the conclusion of this case. It’s a strong ending to the play, and I wonder if it’s designed to sway the jury to his cold position. This is an Ayn Rand show, after all.

In between practices, we’re told to not telegraph our emotions. I suspect this happens as lawyers prepare to leap up for their objections. I also hear the actor/photographer who sparked the distress last week plead his point to the other actors. He wants to replicate what earlier shows did, and provide the lawyers with their scripts disguised as legal papers at their tables. He said the last production of this show with this theatre directed the lawyer secretaries to keep the current play script page on the table for the lawyer to pick up if he needed it. He doesn’t want us to memorize the proceedings, saying it’s not realistic.

Me, I’m ambivalent about it. I plant to have the witness list on my legal pad and scratch them off or make script notes while the other attorney works his lines. This is what I do now instead of reading my script. But I don’t want to have the script onstage, not when I have the lines down so well (let’s say 98 percent at this point). He also tells us the actor playing the Swedish bookkeeper played the role in the ‘70s when this show was first mounted. When we do the second run, he becomes so engrossed in his Dean Koontz book that he misses both his cue to run onstage and the repeated calls for his character by the director. We all laugh it off.

The judge is trying to memorize his lines, but he’s having difficulty, and again, there’s no reason why he can’t have his script in front of him. The audience can’t see it. I do get a comment from another actor that I may talk too fast for the audience to follow, and that’s a complaint I’ve gotten before. I was worried about it, and I work on it during the second run. I notice my voice gets deeper as my guy becomes more indignant. The line readers are passive tonight, and I notice in my scene with the gangster that I forgot some lines. I stop the scene, apologize, and go back to add those lines. In other parts of the act, I hear and see the script pages flip, and I’m able to visually remember exactly where we are in the script, and those lines come easy.

On the second run, the closing argument practically becomes the St. Crispin speech from Henry V. It is unquestionably the most fun part of my lines. I now suddenly love this monologue. And it’s the last thing I say. It’s my big ending.

Official play website

Rehearsals
Punching a Cop Is Bad, Right?
Act Two Redux
Friday Through Sunday
Eggshells
Drama!
Getting Serious
Our First Friday
Act Three Lines
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
Grr. Flaming Attorney smash puny defendant!


Thursday, October 18

Punching a Cop is Bad, Right?

Your Siblings talked last night. The new baby is well, and things seemed to be settled between Your Folks and Your Brother. I'm surprised to learn some things Your Mom said. Apparently she refused to pay for their hotel room, and Your Brother and I had the same reaction: Didn't they just go to Africa? Aren't they planning a cruise in the winter?

It was a long day at work, and I arrive at the rehearsal after a very quick dinner on the road. As I walk in, there's a new guy sitting on the witness stand reading the script. The director explains that he's trying out for the rookie cop and asks me to say my lines opposite him. But as we do the scene, he adds goofy stuff to every line.

Apparently, the director explained it's to be a comedy role (as designed), and he interpreted this to mean he should insert funny, and his style of funny is "wacky." He's improvising all over the place, and he's not giving me time to say my lines. And when he does stop talking, he's giving me the '90s comic stare, expecting me to crack up and be charmed by this. Instead, I want ever so much to deck him. It has been a bad day, and he's not helping. I look to the director, who eventually reigns him in, and we finish the scene. When he's through, he admits he's never acted before, and he's not sure he can memorize all these lines. His character has seven pages, but no blocking, and all he does is answer questions. It's feasible.

The director brings in another to read, a much younger kid who's making a detour on his pizza delivery gig. The defendant knows him, and he does look the part. He reads just fine, but admits he's not sure if his boss will let him off for the rehearsals. We do Friday and Sunday work, and he's sure to lose a chunk of paycheck if he does this part. It might not be worth it to him even if his boss relents. Then again, the director might play the part anyway.

Then we begin the rehearsal. We're collectively improving by relying on the line-readers. It's funny how we'll hit a dead spot in our memory and try to stumble forward with what we think we're supposed to say. We'll slowly offer words as we look to the reader and watch him nod silently to say we're on the right track.

The first housekeeper is trying out her character's mannerisms and speaking voice, and I step all over her lines in the first run-through. The medical examiner reads for the cop here also. Brick if off-book and comfortable already, but the widow has transcribed her lines to index cards as Doc did. I wonder if this is really that big a difference than reading the script. I mean, whatever helps them is fine. We all have different tricks. The first cop applicant reds as the cop in the second run-through, and he sticks to the script this time.

I've memorized the closing argument to about 98 percent fidelity, and I'm roughly 99 percent steady on the whole script. I've turned that corner where my mental impression of the script is much smaller than when I first picked it up. I feel good about where I am and look forward to belting out the closing argument in Thursday's practice.

Official play website

Rehearsals
Act Two Redux
Friday Through Sunday
Eggshells
Drama!
Getting Serious
Our First Friday
Act Three Lines
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
I think he's flashing us.

Wednesday, October 17

Act Two Redux

I'm not saying I'm sold on the idea of the cleaning lady, but I could get spoiled by her. She did a nice job, but my happiness with her work is mirrored by the shame of seeing how badly I let my house go. A responsible adult shouldn't need to pay someone to sweep up the cat hair, you know? TWO responsible adults shouldn't need a third. I haven't found anything missing yet, so maybe she isn't going to eBay my toys.

Tonight's rehearsal is for Act Two, and while I read over that part before supper, I made myself promise I wouldn't open the script during the run-through. This is the quickest, easiest chunk of the play for me. I don't need the script, no matter what my anxieties say. All the principals for the act are here, except the bailiff, and everyone is off-book. Doc and the defendant, have the hardest time, but they have the notions of what they're supposed to say. The helpful script reader keeps us straight. The Swedish housekeeper is employing a stammer, possibly unintentional, that throws me off for my lines with her. We work over the dramatic entrance of the gangster at the end of the act.

I find that without the script and with a dictated confidence that I'm now focusing on hand gestures and choreographed hand/hip placement. I also now have table props including actual copies of New York warrants and a fountain pen so I can fake note-taking. This gives me some business for when I stand up and call or interrogate witnesses. Flint is assembling around me simply by using the space around him.

I still get comments about all my memorization, and I explain it's sparked by fear. And it is. We're rehearsing for a space we won't see for another week and reliant on an audience-culled jury to behave themselves. The only things I can control are my lines and demeanor. I must be prepared to improv throughout the play. I've already scripted out what I can do if Doc loses his lines by calling for a sidebar with the judge. The judge can read him his lines from the script he'll no doubt have on hand. For instance, Doc continues to call for his first witness and forgets he's supposed to talk to him first. He sits at his table and tries to cue me to stand up and get going. He's also started to poke me during one of the lawyer arguments. I'm not sure how to respond to that. I'm positive that would be cause for a contempt citation on a real court. Maybe I should take out my pocket square and wipe away his assuredly dingy finger residue.

Official play website

Rehearsals
Friday Through Sunday
Eggshells
Drama!
Getting Serious
Our First Friday
Act Three Lines
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 Golden Girls are shockingly popular online.

Tuesday, October 16

Domestic Material

I managed to install the door lock backward, and the bolt would slip free of the strike plate even if the knob was locked. I drove out to Lowe's thinking I needed to get a left-hand lock. None of the locks were labeled as designed for either side of a door, but as I looked over the knob pieces, I figured out that I could simply take everything apart, turn the lock assembly upside down, and reassemble the knob. And I did. So now the cleaning lady, who as I write this is probably rifling through my coin jars, cannot get inside my workshop unless she also possesses cat burglar skills.

Also as I type, I assume we now have a new niece. Your Parents were scheduled to drive down to be there for the cesarean, but I've heard nothing about how it went. This would be a good time for Your Mom to calm the waters over Thanksgiving. Your Sis called Your Brother this weekend and left a message. I don't think she's heard back yet, but he might be a scoash busy.

I memorized the second page of my closing monologue and almost completed the third before my mind closed up shop for the night. I had reached my cognition quota for the day. And then I ate pie.

I won my second week of fantasy football, making me 2-4 for the season.

Picture-Accompanied Spontaneous Poetry of the Day
Jupiter beckons.

There are no plays on Jupiter.
There are no telemarketers there.
No alarms and potholes and tags.

It's a giant ball of cold and cloud.
And probably smells like a goat.
A goat 20 times the size of the earth.
Who wouldn't want to gaze upon that?

If such a thing existed, you'd find it only there.
In the dark and quiet and still.

Jupiter beckons.

Monday, October 15

Friday Through Sunday

I spent my dinner Friday night gobbling supper and checking the script before running into the rehearsal late. The usual cadre is there waiting, and I walk from the door to the attorney's table, and we start about a minute later. I'm worn out from practice and work stuff. I blank on the third line of the opening argument, but our new stage manager feeds me the line. I have to ask for small lines throughout the run-through (we're doing the whole play tonight, and of course we're missing people). There are some parts of the dialogue that I'm saying aloud totally by habit. I have no idea what my line is supposed to be but I hear myself saying the right stuff while the passenger in my brain marvels at what can only be muscle memory.

I cram over Act Two between the acts. I'm starting to develop a nice rapport with the Swedish housekeeper and the gangster. He and I are plotting at how to make the most of what we assume would be a throughly hate-filled relationship. The Brick actor is already off-book for the PI role, and the new widow actress is hitting her emotional moments well. Whenever Doc blanks on his lines and is reminded offstage, he yells "awh!" as if the revived memory is blasted into him from across the room.

Saturday was my college homecoming (15 years), and of course no one else from my class is there. We stroll the campus for about two hours, I show You Sis all my haunts and stories, and we find one of my yearbooks to thumb through. We do this every year; it has to bore her senseless. I stretch my guy muscles after by installing new toilet seats at home and changing out my workshop door handle with a knob lock.

I have to do this last part because, and I'd never thought I'd say this, we're hiring a cleaning lady. The woman lost a client to a nursing home, and she works for a fellow teacher. Your Sis offered to take her one every other week to help us tidy. But I ad paranoid, and I don't like having a stranger in my house when I'm not there. Because I have anxiety about strangers ebaying all my geek stuff, I'm locking up my workshop while she's there. Your Sis doesn't want me doing all the housework, and school is taking up the vast majority of her home time. And as my objections are founded on neurosis, I don't have much of a footing to oppose this. Good luck to the new lady for cleaning cat hair every other week.

The Sunday rehearsal unfortunately kept me from watching the much-vaunted Dallas/New England game live, but I did TiFaux it while I had another whole-play runthrough. Because this was added so late in the practice schedule, a lot of people couldn't make it apparently. Doc gave up tickets to another theatre show to be here. And as we begin Act One, it's the two of us, the gangster, the father-in-law, the clerk, the bailiff, and the medical examiner. That's all the actors. My brain hurts from reviewing the script for more than an hour before we begin. Doc is exhausted and annoyed at the scheduling. I can do a bit more acting and less reciting. I'm distracted by my rumbling stomach, and drinking about a gallon of water between lines doesn't help.

We run Act One with lots of substitutions, and when Act Two starts, we're down to the attorneys, the gangster and the father-in-law. That's it. The bailiff and ME are allowed to go home to watch the game. That leaves the four actors who already best know their lines. I don't think this day improved us in any way. Halfway through, I could have spit nails. I'm not batting a thousand on my lines, but we still have 12 rehearsals to go, and I'm on schedule to memorize all my lines by Tuesday. These consecutive full-play runs will make the act-specific practices seem easy by comparison.

I was comforted when I got home by a per pie. I don't normally like pears. They taste like the bad parts of apples and potatoes. But when pears are baked, my my my, think I'll have twelve helpings. Your Sis did that while I was yelling at gangsters.

Official play website

Rehearsals
Eggshells
Drama!
Getting Serious
Our First Friday
Act Three Lines
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

The NFL Contest
HER PICKS
NFC: New Orleans (1-4), St. Louis (0-6)
AFC: Indianapolis (5-0), New England (5-0)

MY PICKS
NFC: New Orleans (1-4), Carolina (4-2)
AFC: New England (5-0), San Diego (3-3)

New England went off on Dallas yesterday, helping me to an almost certain fantasy victory (my opponent had a team playing tonight).

Picture of the Day
Maybe I need a monster roller derby.

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