I Hate to be the Bearer of Bad News but…

The new James Bond movie is thoroughly disappointing. I’m not quite sure what went wrong. While the directors changed, the writers are the same (and as a writer I tend to blame them for everything.) The first one was tight, sexy thriller with genuine romance this one is almost like a parody of a Bond movie. The number of exotic locals is gratuitous and the women are empty shells. There is one visual reference to Goldfinger that I alone found hysterical. But other than that it is a grim, joyless, incomprehensible thriller that really has no tie to Casino Royal aside from mentioning Vesper Lynd all the time (which on the 8th mention of her name I realized is a pun for West Berlin). The action scenes are shot in dizzying close up and there is no real sense of danger. The new Bond girl is lovely but she and Daniel Craig have no chemistry and her arc is boring. Of course Judi Dench is fabulous and the movie picks up whenever she is on screen.
Rewatch Casino Royal, and skip Quantum of Solace. The action is better, the story makes more sense, and there is Eva Green.

Prop 8 Hate:

So I have mixed feelings about the response to Prop 8. I mean, obviously I hate Prop 8 and I think it is terrible and a giant step back. But shouldn’t all of these protests have happened BEFORE the election? I mean, the people of California have spoken, what exactly are these protests hoping to achieve? If it gets overturned by the state supreme court its not going to have anything to do with the protests. Its not like the polls lied, leading up to the election it looked really close so why are people surprised that it passed? Again, all this money and the energy should have happened before the election. And the blaming the whole think on black people really creeps me out. Plus, why are there protests in New York and Philly and Montana when this is a California measure that affects California citizens?
I personally feel that all this energy would be better spent trying to pass gay marriage laws in other states. New York is thisclose to having gay marriage be legal, it feels like if just the tiniest bit of pressure was put on our Gov he would pass any legislation that came his way. Obviously, Montana is far too conservative to have a gay marriage bill passed but hate crime and antidiscrimination bills still need to be passed and the libertarian live-and-let-live mentality (while often hypocritical) can be exploited.
Obviously I am not a lawyer or even an activist and maybe I am wrong and insensitive. Perhaps these rallies are a good way to build energy and momentum (instead of wasting it), to rally the base. But it the more tangible boycotting of organizations (theatres, restaurants) who gave money in support of prop 8 is more the kind of thing I can get behind.
Am I completely wrong?

Blasted.

Last night I saw Blasted by Sarah Kane at the Soho Rep. I don’t think I have ever been more terrified going into a play in my life. I made sure to sit on the edge so I could leave if I had to. I have never walked out of anything in my life but I gave myself permission to do that if I had to. Why was I so scared? I shall quote from Emily’s blog about her experience seeing Blasted:

“I broke into a cold sweat about halfway through scene three. Then my vision got all blurry and I thought I was going to die, but I did not. I'm sure everyone has their own limitations, but this was the first time (and I've read the play, so I did know what I was getting myself into), but this was the first time I've ever felt truly shocked.”

I read the play four years ago and found it disturbing but not particularly affecting. It’s a strange play, absurdist in structure. The characters and situation don’t really change, everything just gets worse. Reading it I found it more a sad commentary on the state of Sarah Kane’s worldview. It is clear in her writing that this was a woman who saw society as thin and tenuous thread, that truly believed in her heart of hearts that humans are feral and we eat our young, that love is only a lie we use to manipulate each other. Sarah Kane killed herself in 1999 and anyone who has read or seen her work would not be surprised.
So when I heard that soho reps production of Blasted was THE production to see I bought a ticket with out thinking twice. I’ve survived Requiem for a Dream. I’ve written rapes and atrocities into my work. Whatever.*
Then I read Emily’s response and I got scared. Really really scared.
And so when I saw it I very consciously tried to focus on structure and technique. As things got worse I assumed horror-movie-position: thumbs over ears and fingers spread over my face to cover my ears and eyes at a moments notice. And when things got really, really eye-ball-sucking-and-dead-baby-eating bad and did not look at all. I examined the lighting rig.
And I did not vomit and I did not faint and I did not have to leave and I stayed all the way to the depressing end. And I smiled and sent a jokey text to Emily after curtain call. And I was pleased that I had remained unaffected.
But then on the train I realized that I didn’t really remember my walk. I was in a daze. And suddenly, on the packed L, I began to weep. Well, not so much weep as leak.
You know how when you’re sick, and there is no one to take care of you and you have to make soup and buy ginger ale for yourself, and everything takes an incredible amount of energy and thought? Just paying the cashier and putting soup in a pan takes conscious effort and is ultimately exhausting. That’s how walking home and taking care of the cats felt. It was as though the joy had been sucked out of me.
Thank goodness that the trifecta of hot chocolate, kittie cuddles and old school simpsons will cure almost anything.
Its hard to argue with Sarah Kane’s world view. There are situations where people go feral, where the only response is insanity. Right now, the tenuous peace in the Congo has fallen apart. And that is what is so scary about Blasted, not the incredible make up effects, not the brutal rapes, but the fact that there is a part of me, a very very small part, that agrees with her. But unlike Sarah (and her work), I (and my work) have hope.
And adorable kitties.
Its hard to recommend the play. But I will put it like this: if you are going to see a production of Blasted in your lifetime see this one. Everything is incredibly well done. Why you would want to see Blasted… well I leave that up to you.

* I have never “seen” the sexual violence in my plays performed. Whenever the gun-in-mouth moment in BANG/whimper came up in rehearsals or the production I would close my eyes. During the rehearsal of the attempted rape in Nothing but the Truth I drew flowers on my script. And when they insisted on rehearsing it over and over I nearly fainted. Take that for what you will.

Theatre and such

So I haven’t been updating this thing for one reason or another. Haven’t really had anything that felt worth saying. BUT I have seen some theatre and opera (look at me! So classy!) these past few weeks so how about some capsule reviews?
Black Watch (again): It is so good. SO GOOD. I know its like impossible to get rush tickets so pay for it. It is worth it. I can’t really articulate how good it is.
Speed-the-Plow: So I’m not really a Mamet person. And this play is a lesser Mamet. Where Glen Gary Glen Ross and Oleana ride on the bleakness of Mamet’s worldview to intense and devastating conclusions Speed the Plow just… kind of… ends. The stakes are so low, whether or not this movie or that movie will get greenlit, that it is hard to care. HOWEVER Jeremy Piven was great playing exactly the same roll he plays on entourage as was Raul Esparza. Elizabeth Moss didn’t really have anything to do and it remains to be seen whether she has any range at all (much as I love her as Peggy on Mad Men). But it was great to see her without peggy-bangs and in a bombshell outfit.
I ___ NY: a rather exciting play written by Lonnie Carter (dear Prof of mine). Definitly still a work in progress but there is so much good there that I can’t wait to see how it progresses. The collaborative approach that they are applying also reminds me a lot of the way theatre is done in South Africa, which intrigues me greatly.
Doctor Atomic: It is LOOOONG. And it has that whole opera thing of if-I-said-it-once-I should-say-it-eight-times. And it’s sort of atonal. And I’m not sure I would have had any idea what was going on if I hadn’t read the 20 pages of writer and director statements in the program. BUT the last 10 minutes of both acts were so devastatingly beautiful that I forgive it everything. It has haunted me a little bit.
Ivanov: Jesse was in a production of Checkov up at Columbia. Jesse was awesome (and vaugly frightening) though the production lacked a cohesive style.
Equus: I sat in the stage seats which meant the actors had their backs to me most of the time and I couldn’t really see their eyes. BUT both Richard Griffiths and Daniel Radcliff are fantastic and the six dancers who play the horses are stunning. It really is all about the horses. Beautiful tall men, in platforms in the shape of horse shoes with leather and metal masks covering their faces. Oh man. They completely capture the essence of horse. Its pretty incredible.
However, the play itself hasn’t aged that well. The idea that Alan’s madness comes from a stifling family life is very 1973. Peter Shafer is totally a romantic. Both Amadeus and Equus have older men jealous of crazy, talented, passionate young men. He believes that madness and art go together and (I am assuming) that he is a lesser artist for his sanity. But anyone who has actually dealt with severe (horse blinding) mental illness knows there is little romantic about it. Its gross and messy and dangerous and frightening. Shafer wants the audience to feel a little sad that Alan will be brought back to society and cured. But for the sake of the horses I don’t give a damn about his passion.

Introducing Edgar and Lenore: