Bonding over mistakes

Perhaps it's due to my own inexperience in all things film, but I have always ascribed a feeling of stiffness and flawlessness to movies. The ability to edit, to reshoot, to reset —it's all foreign to little ol' theatre-trained me. And since the process is unfamiliar and I only ever see the finished product, I admit that I often forget to think about how similar film can sometimes be to theatre.

My eyes were opened in part when I watched Martin Scorsese's Hugo, which featured an in-depth and wonder-filled trip into the inner workings of early film --specifically, those made by Georges Méliès. Méliès' work, which includes the famous Le Voyage dans la Lune, is entertaining at face value, but it was only after watching Hugo that I fully appreciated the theatrical nature of his creations. The sets, although they appear flat, were multi-layered to allow for several entrance/exit points and for manipulation of focus or optical illusions. All special effects were devised and carried out by tireless individuals. The whole process was free of the cynicism that modern film technology has endowed us with. The desire to tell a great story still reigned supreme.

Fast forward 50-some-odd years from Méliès's time, and once again I had the mistaken idea that there was nothing in that era of film for theatre-me to connect with. Then one of my daily timewasters, The Daily What, found a compilation of clips that sent film and theatre crashing together again in a flurry of swear words and laughs.

Now, usually in film you never see a flubbed line or an accident, and unless the actors' improvisation turns out to be better than the script there is little chance for the audience to see the actor behind the character. Of course, film actors do screw up on set. Some modern films include these bloopers and blunders in the closing credits, and many more will compile them for DVD/Blu-ray special features. But I have never before seen bloopers from the era of classic, black and white Hollywood, and that's what makes this compilation so special.

(Watch right to the end. I promise it's worth it.)




They're people! Making mistakes! Just like you and me! It seems silly to have to discover that, but it really did take me this long. But the connections I made throughout that video were comforting and full of nostalgia, to say the least. The faces and sounds that these befuddled actors produced brought me right back to rehearsal rooms, where a garbled phrase or mistimed line would send all of us into fits of laughter. I'm smiling just thinking of the fun we were able to have and the bonds we were able to create, all thanks to mistakes.

I am now far less likely to draw a wide dividing line between film and theatre, at least when it comes to acting. Regardless of the media machine or the technological advances, we should never forget that at the heart of any great film or play are people who share a passion for telling stories and who are not above making (slight) fools of themselves.

If a wolf should come out of the forest, then what would you do?

I admit that, as much as I loved Theatre Rusticle's 2010 production Birnam Wood, I was initially disappointed by their obvious departure from the story and chronology of Shakespeare's Macbeth --the play from which Birnam Wood takes its title and inspiration. Thankfully, I was quickly won over by Theatre Rusticle's outstanding blend of text and movement, and I took my newfound appreciation for physical theatre to their 2011 show Peter and the Wolf.

Theatre Rusticle's Peter and the Wolf was not your usual tale of a young boy's encounter with wildlife one wintry Russian day. In director Allyson McMackon's version, Peter --now an old man at death's door-- is visited by the eponymous Wolf. Through a series of flashbacks we then witness not only young Peter's storybook friendships with Duck, Bird, and Cat, but also the untold and complex relationship between Peter and Wolf. This is not your grandmother's black-and-white good vs. evil story. It is instead an exploration of the parallels between man and beast, the strength of childhood bonds, the conflict between destiny and desire, and the various meanings and consequences of confinement.

The cast of Peter and the Wolf performed magnificently under McMackon's beautiful vision. Theatre Rusticle regulars Lucy Rupert and Viv Moore, as Bird and Duck respectively, were delights to watch. I particularly enjoyed the goofy, goggle-wearing, but sincere Duck, and Moore's physical energy was enviable. Wesley Connor, as Cat, perfectly captured the feline blend of pomposity, affection, and killer instinct. Other highlights include an incredibly accurate portrayal of a zoo giraffe by Liam Hanebury, and a strong showing by theatre legend David Smukler as old Peter.

However, it was dancer William Yong's turn as Wolf that really anchored the production. Yong's lithe frame, powerful movements, remarkable control, and raw passion breathed life into a character that, far from being an evil carnivore, just wants to live and laugh and love. The sorrow and anger that Wolf feels when he realizes what restrictions nature and society place on him are palpable. This was a wolf with a soul, beautiful and dark and transfixing.

I can't recommend strongly enough that you keep your eyes peeled for Theatre Rusticle's next production, imaginary reader. I'll see you there!

Wilkommen, bienvenue, welcome

Directed by Adam Brazier, a Dora-winning actor and Dora-nominated director, the musical boasted a great set, suitably Fosse-esque choreography, titillating costumes, and an enthusiastic and talented cast. Brazier is a solid director, and I appreciated the clarity and strength of his vision. The decision to use ensemble members as a meta-audience lounging in the wings or hanging from scaffolding added a dash of self-awareness without distracting from the main action. And in choosing to keep the seedy feel of the Kit Kat Club instead of loading on the glitz, Brazier is able to transition smoothly from that thinly glamourous time to the uneasy tension of early-Third Reich Berlin.

The star of the show was, appropriately, the Emcee —played by the very talented Michael-David Blostein. Blostein's performance was nuanced, well-developed, and enthralling. The Emcee's greatest weapon is his voice, and Blostein is possessed of a spine-tingling one that —to my shock and awe— is apparently untrained. Thankfully, Blostein does not take his natural talent for granted, and his hard work definitely pays off.

This production doesn't bust down any doors or revolutionize musical theatre, but it doesn't need to. Brazier and his team have created a very heartfelt adaptation of a legendary production, and it's a worthy addition to the canon.

Cabaret is playing now until January 28th. See http://www.harthouse.ca/hart-house-theatre/cabaret for more information, and click here to buy tickets online.

Real life trumps the virtual again

Oops, too busy sketching set designs for M. Butterfly, making dinner, and getting ready to see the opening night of Hart House Theatre's Cabaret.

Better posts tomorrow!

Theatre Rusticle: local theatre at its best

"We create original and daring work inspired by plays, poems, history and literature with an eye to the relationship between text and movement. We are committed to creating plays that are spare yet image drenched and embrace the language of text and the body. …Our plays are challenging, dream-like, capricious and rich with meaning."

Although it is always encouraging to hear about Toronto-based theatre directors and companies making names for themselves locally and nationally, it is truly inspiring to personally know one such director and the work of her company. That director is Allyson McMackon and her company, Theatre Rusticle, consistently produces shows that you would never have thought of yourself, but wish you had.

McMackon's dual background of modern dance and theatre gives her productions a unique flavour. Dialogue is sparse but purposeful, movement is physically powerful but narratively significant, and staging is thoughtful but looks effortless. The repetition of key phrases and actions, a device McMackon uses frequently, never feels stale or forced. The balance between minimalism and richness is consistently struck and continuously maintained.

What makes Theatre Rusticle most interesting to me is what work they choose to adapt, and how they choose to adapt it. Not content with merely editing down or transposing the source material, McMackon and her team take cultural cornerstones such as Macbeth and Peter and the Wolf and elevate them to an entirely different dimension of thought and emotion.

Birnam Wood, Theatre Rusticle's 2010 take on Shakespeare's Macbeth, transported the audience to the titular wood, where tree spirits return to their long-ago destroyed forest and find themselves acting out the joy, aggression, love, and betrayal of the past. Audience members who expected a retelling, or even a chronologically accurate allusion, would have initially been disappointed. There is a King, but he should not be confused with Macbeth. And there was despair and death, but we are discouraged from putting any names to those who are faced with them. Instead, Birnam Wood took the kernels of those oft-tread themes we associate with Macbeth and allowed them to transcend time and location. There is no way Macbeth held any ballroom dances, but in dancing the spirits experienced love and anger and failure on a near-Shakespearean scale. It was unorthodox, it was mesmerizing, and it was accented with incredible costumes and set.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8gMF2S-Knig (the uploader has, unfortunately, disabled embedding)

Stay tuned for "Peter and the Wolf".

…Braindead...

I'm feeling kind of uninspired today… damn it.

Welp, going to keep trying for today, but no guarantees.

Meanwhile, please enjoy this article about one of the strangest method actors ever: Stephen Colbert.

Thanks, noble Titus

A theatre blog just wouldn't be a real theatre blog without a good number of posts about Shakespeare, right? Don't worry, I'm not here to analyze texts for you —that's what a $1,000 course at your local university is for. I prefer talking about adaptations of Shakespeare's work, both on stage and on screen, and how they contribute to the ongoing dialogue about the Bard. I've already discussed an incredibly successful stage adaptation of Macbeth, entitled Matchbox Macbeth. Today I want to rhapsodize upon Julie Taymor's 1999 film adaptation of Titus Andronicus, called (super creatively) Titus.

Starring Academy Award winners Sir Anthony Hopkins and Jessica Lange, old favourites Colm Feore and Alan Cumming, and a young Jonathan Rhys Meyers, this film could easily have been a faithful but unimaginative star-vehicle. But under a director whose first love is theatre, Titus swells into a spectacle of theatre-without-limits. Taymor exploits the medium of film in ways that theatre directors can only dream of, from Titus' multitude of huge, ambitious settings to its realistic gore and nightmarishly surreal video-collage sequences.

I hope that you aren't some sort of psychoanalyst, imaginary reader, because this play about betrayal, barbarism, mutilation, lust, and death is my favourite Shakespearean work. And when beloved boyfriend agreed to watch Taymor's film, well I was just tickled pink. Thank goodness he really enjoyed it, too —otherwise I might have felt like some kind of freak.

There is one thing that keeps Titus from being one of my absolute favourite films: it is SO. FREAKING. 90s! It is unapologetically anachronistic (chariots and bowmen share space with motorcades and video game machines in "ancient" Rome) and I like that for the most part, but the rave music and weird hairdos can be a little much at times. Anachronism is one thing, but such blatantly identifiable anachronism is jarring. I have seen it three times, and each time it has seemed more and more dated. Ultimately the performances and visuals win over my cynicism and incredulity, but it is still something I have to get over.

STILL, I highly recommend that you watch this movie. It's a long, dark, and gory one —but it is a fine example of how theatre and film, too often cast in a hierarchy and defined by their differences, can inform and improve upon one another.

THIS IS A BLATANT PROMOTION OF A VERY SPECIAL BLOG!

So far, imaginary reader, you've read that my beloved boyfriend buys me cool things and is a great set advisor. But did you know that he's also an aspiring musician, avid fan of all things music, and now writer of an awesome music blog called "Sound of Machines" that has the equally awesome tagline "Reviews. One Song at a Time."? If you did know all of that, well... that's kind of weird.

POINT BEING: you should check out and follow his blog! Expand your minds and your musical tastes! Sound cool at parties! All this and more, if you read up! Click away!

An ode to the talented set advisor/constructor

Note to all aspiring theatre directors: NEVER underestimate the importance of having an experienced, ingenuitive, and practical head of set construction.

Too often I've seen or (regretfully) been part of productions in which a grand vision --whether it be the director's or the set designer's-- fails to take into consideration the practical aspect of creating and building a set. For example, I've seen plays where half of the support struts don't touch the ground, where the dimensions of simple things like stairs or walls are ludicrously out of whack, and where a slammed on-stage door sends the whole set rocking. Each instance has, at times, completely overshadowed the play itself. And all of them could have been avoided if the right people had been involved early on in the creative process.

Don't get the wrong idea --I have never been a practical, experienced, and ingenuitive set constructor. I'm the one who comes up with the vague ideas that I can only really explain with hand gestures, finger pointing, and poorly simulated sound effects. But I know when I'm out of my element, and I'm not afraid to ask for help. Of course, asking for help is easier when one's boyfriend is a great set advisor/constructor (I can totally hook you up if you want, imaginary reader).

Case in point:
My current project is a proposal to stage M. Butterfly (and it's really starting to come together). My co-director (also one of my nearest and dearest friends) and I latched on to the idea of using scaffolding along all three walls of the stage to create levels and build on the overall aesthetic. For privacy/artistic license's sake I won't say more than that, but that's beside the point anyway.
The point is, I brought up the scaffolding idea with beloved boyfriend, and he jumped in right away to fill in the gaps in my practical knowledge. For instance, he pointed out that the upstage scaffolding can't just be erected straight across the wall, or else it will make everything else feel flat (which is, as you may know, the death knell for any theatre production). It has to have at least some depth to make it a little more appealing to the eye. And you know what? I never would have thought of that until the damn thing had been built, and then think of how much time and effort would have been wasted with still more needed to fix the problem. I would have spent lots of time ensuring that the blocking and set had depth and dynamism, but I would just have assumed that my original flat scaffolding idea was fine and then hoped that my set advisor/constructor would catch any potential issues.

And therein lies the problem! If my set advisor also lacked expertise, (s)he might not have thought about effective scaffolding techniques. Then, when the flawed idea made it down to the set constructor, (s)he --having so far been left out of the creative process-- might just build the set to those flawed specifications without voicing any artistic concern (I say "artistic" because "flat" scaffolding does not pose a safety threat). And then you end up with a noticeably flawed set. I've seen it happen! And I'm very glad that I have talent readily available to help make sure that it doesn't happen to my production.

Moral of the story: creative people, don't assume that you know what you're talking about when it comes to correctly balancing function with aesthetic, unless you have lots of experience building sets (especially if those sets are for impractical creative people). Collaborate with people who do! If they're any good and you treat them well, they'll make your set even better. Or, at least, they'll make sure that this doesn't happen:

Looking back to move forward

This month marks 2 years since I directed Tonight's Special, a revue showcasing David Ives' The Philadelphia, Jonathan Rand's Check, Please, and Steve Martin's (yes, that Steve Martin) Picasso at the Lapin Agile.

I was privileged to work with old friends, past collaborators, and up-and-coming talent. It was a great experience (apart from a crazy turn of events that almost left me without an Elvis [read Picasso if you don't understand]), and one of the highlights of my university career! I still regularly quote all three plays, look at production photos, and am waiting for one of my actors to hit it big so that I can take credit for his/her success somehow. And while there were definitely times when I was underprepared/overwhelmed/fucking up, I knew I could count on my hardworking and talented cast, crew, and assistant director to help see my vision through to opening night.

All this is to say that whenever I start to doubt my ideas or think that I'm not cut out for trying theatre professionally, I remind myself that not everyone can be a director or successfully supervise a project of that size. I wasn't perfect, but I think I did a pretty damn good job. And if I continue to surround myself with creative, intelligent, supportive, hardworking people, I think I'll be okay moving forward.

With that in mind, it's on to my Brechtian, minimalist, Bollywood, theatre-in-the-round version of the musical Cats. Broadway, here I come!

Excuses, excuses

Yesterday was actually a "Hi, I'm super busy, but I'm still thinking of you, blog" day. I actually did important things, like finally getting my G1 license! Still terrified about driving, though…

And today my focus is working on my graduate school application. Will still find some time to post later on, and maybe even get two in if I'm on a roll.

In the meantime, please enjoy this video that I watch all the time. Shakespeare! Acting! Danny Pudi from Community (please, TV gods, bring them back soon)!

Nights out at the thee-ay-ter

Just like reading a shit ton will improve your vocabulary (see? I read like, y'know, lots and stuff) and give you inspiration/confidence/self-awareness when doing your own writing, I want to go to as many plays as I possibly can in order to inform my understanding of theatre and how I can add to the dialogue.

I think I did alright in 2011 in that regard, given my very limited budget and poor planning skills (thanks, beloved boyfriend, for the season subscription to Hart House Theatre!). Time to list the plays I saw!

Plays I have seen in 2011:
- Arsenic and Old Lace (Victoria College Drama Society, University of Toronto)
- Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (Hart House Theatre)
- The Rocky Horror Show (VCDS)
- Yellow Face (Hart House in collaboration with fu-GEN)
- Lysistrata (Canopy Theatre in collaboration with Hart House)

- When Harry Met Harry (flaming locomotive productions at the Toronto Fringe Festival)

- Living with Henry (Beyond Boundaries at Toronto Fringe)

- War of the Clowns (Pea Green Theatre Company at Toronto Fringe)
- A Winter's Tale (Dream in High Park)
- The Great American Trailer Park Musical (Hart House)
- Peter and the Wolf (Theatre Rusticle)
- Matchbox Macbeth (Litmus Theatre, see my write-up here)
- Our Town (VCDS)
- The Gentleman Caller (Hart House)
- Macbeth (Hart House)
- Red (CanStage)

As I have personal ties to most of those productions I will not be reviewing them here. I will say that my professional highlights were Red, Matchbox Macbeth, Peter and the Wolf, and War of the Clowns. My favourite university show was Our Town.

I'm always up for geeking out on theatre in a less public forum if you're ever interested, imaginary reader. Plus, I'm a HUGE gossip.

Upcoming Plays I Want to See in Early 2012:
- Cabaret (Hart House)

- The Penelopiad (Nightwood Theatre)

- Penny Plain (Factory Theatre)
- Cruel and Tender (CanStage WITH ATOM EGOYAN DIRECTING)

- The Small Room at the Top of the Stairs (Tarragon Theatre)
- The Night of the Iguana (Hart House)

- The Real World? (Tarragon)

I also really want to see War Horse (Mirvish Productions). Who wants to buy me a ticket?

'Sleep no more, / Macbeth does murder sleep'

More like "Litmus Theatre's Matchbox Macbeth has murdered my barely-formed confidence in my theatrical talent", am I right?

Seriously though, it is equally intimidating and inspiring to witness true theatre at its best —and the recent remount of Matchbox Macbeth is exactly that. I am in absolute awe of every aspect of this production, and months later it is still a pleasure to speak about it!

Reworking the Bard

Shakespeare's Macbeth is 5 acts in length, with an approximate running time of 2.5 hours. Matchbox Macbeth is 1 hour long. Impossible, right? Gloriously wrong. They distilled each scene down to a few key lines without losing the tone or meaning, letting the actors' fantastic work and the audience's understanding fill in the rest. This was not your beginner's Shakespeare, but as long as you've read or seen it at least once, you were more than equipped to understand and appreciate this version.

Not Casting a Cat

Now on to casting. First of all, what the hell, Shakespeare? Six "WITCHES"? "A SPIRIT LIKE A CAT"?! That's just silly. I have seen Macbeth several times and I have never seen a Spirit Cat. Maybe I wasn't looking closely enough, but I'm pretty sure everyone else also thinks that Spirit Cat is superfluous. And how is Spirit Cat different from "Other SPIRITS"? Now I've typed "spirit" so much that it looks weird. Moving on.

Shakespeare's Macbeth has almost 30 characters. Matchbox Macbeth had 4 actors, one of whom only played Macbeth. The other three (one woman, two men) were then left to interpret all of the remaining characters, and they did an INCREDIBLE job. Lady Macbeth was suitably desperate and crazy without overacting. King Duncan's age and decrepit physical nature was evoked by having the actor walk with upside down milk crates attached to his feet. The ghosts were the perfect mix of malice and mischief. For clarity and timeliness many characters were omitted, but at no cost to the overall effect.

Shedding Tradition

Now here's where it gets crazy. The staging was... It's been almost 10 weeks since I saw Matchbox Macbeth and I still don't think I have the right words to describe how incredible it was. To put it plainly, it was the best play I've ever seen AND IT WAS STAGED IN A FREAKING SHED. You know those sheds that all face into a communal alley, the ones that can barely fit one car? Yeah, one of those. THERE WAS A PLAY IN ONE OF THOSE! Amazing.

The audience was limited to 15 people, seated against the two side walls of the shed. Most of the action took place in the shed, with some moments happening through the back window (Lady Macbeth's death) or in the alleyway (a clever opening dumb show, entrances into Macbeth's "court"). Lighting was minimal --a few well-placed stage lights, tiny handheld flashlights, a few candles, and a very creepy red oven light-- but the dimness was an asset instead of a weakness. And the sound? Dear Lord, the sound. Taking full advantage of the shed, actors who weren't on stage would bang on the walls or whisper through cracks, creating an atmosphere of tension and darkness that is nearly impossible to have in a larger space. We felt claustrophobic and uneasy, and it was amazing.

Earned Praise
All of the actors were ridiculously talented and hardworking, and it showed. Way to earn your MFAs, guys! Seriously though, so much thought was put into making it an original production and taking full advantage of their limited resources. Nothing in the final product was superfluous or poorly planned. It ran like a well-oiled machine, but with enormous heart. Essentially, Matchbox Macbeth accomplished everything that I want to with my own production, overcoming every obstacle that I know I will also have to face. There's hope yet, if you are dedicated enough to the cause!

For a taste of the talent:


Links to other reviews of Litmus Theatre's 2011 remount of Matchbox Macbeth are below. A great little piece by one of the actors is here. Apparently their next project is a twisted version of Peter Pan! Let's all go together!

http://www.mooneyontheatre.com/2011/10/13/review-matchbox-macbeth-litmus-theatre/

http://www.nowtoronto.com/stage/story.cfm?content=183240

http://torontoist.com/2011/10/theatre-that-goes-bump-in-the-night/

New year, new blog attitude!

I originally had the title end in a question mark, but that is too negative. I need to be positive about my return to the blogging world! Positively terrified about exposing those weird theatre thoughts in my head and guilty over having taken 7 months to return, but positive nonetheless!

Biggest revelation - I don't need to write an essay every time. So I won't. Probably.

I'm going to write a blog entry every day in January, even if it's just to say "Hi, I'm super popular and busy and awesome, but I'm still thinking of you, blog. And you, imaginary reader".

IT SHALL BE DONE! Prepare for 30 entries of "Hi, I'm super popular and busy and awesome..."! Kidding. Sort of.