Review of a Show: Shape of Things

Last summer, I got on a Neil LaBute kick and read two of his shows and went to see a few others. Shape of Things was one I both read and watched the movie version of. I loved the show, loved the script. I thought it was incredibly interesting and asked a lot of really cool questions. It left me wondering who was in the wrong at the end, even though it would obviously seem that Evelyn should be the one at fault. Yes, at first I thought what she did was horrid, but I didn’t out right think she was the villain.

Our production of Shape of Things as the final Senior Theatre Festival show left me wanting, and I know exactly why: the end of the show. In this production, Evelyn was clearly at fault. She was a bitch, and we knew it, there was no question. After the show ended, we clearly felt bad for Adam and judged Evelyn. I completely disagree with this interpretation of the ending. The point of the end should be to question what just happened. When Adam (Erik Kimerer) begins chastising Evelyn (Anna Duz) she simply says “what did I do wrong?” He becomes flustered and can’t answer. In my opinion, it is because he doesn’t know what to say. Evelyn later furthers that question by pointing out that she made him feel better about himself. He lost weight, looked outwardly more attractive, and became increasingly more confident in himself. So she wants to know what is so bad about that. This is such an interesting question and should make the audience think, leave them completely unsure of how to view her. I realize that one could say “well Georgina, that’s just your opinion of what the end should look like” but I happen to have a slight advantage here. My dad works on movies and happens to know Neil LaBute personally. I have seen a version Neil directed and I know that his intention was to have there be that questioning at the end. I think this is a great moment to look at from a playwrite’s perspective. Here is a moment where you can really see that once you give your play to the world, everything can change. If a director or actor thinks something should be different, they can change it, you have no control. I know I’ve said this before, but it just proves to me that if you really think something should without a doubt be a certain way, make it super clear! Otherwise, things are going to get interpreted extremely different. Part of this is my personal opinion with the end, but I really do feel that it differed greatly from Neil’s original vision.

I will say one thing: the set designed by Dane Goulet, costumes designed by Connor Jones, and lights designed by Joey Fechtel were great. The floor of the stage was painted with this really cool artistic design that really supported the themes of the show in relation to what art is. What was really cool was the use of a hanging scaffolding that was used to suspend certain props. As Evelyn completed each scene, she hung a key prop up that was then used as her thesis display at the end of the show. I loved that because it hinted at the ending but didn’t outright tell you what was going to happen. I also loved the costumes. Jones did an exceptional job in transforming Kimerer from an awkward, dumpy college boy into a put together, confident looking young man. The progression was really interesting to watch and easy to follow and wonderfully supported the arc of the story. Fechtel’s lights were really great at setting the mood of the piece, and I particularly enjoyed the sunset he created Act I during a scene between Jenny (Libby Orick) and Adam. It was seamless and almost unnoticeable until you suddenly saw the stage had shifted color. Very well done.

All in all, the show entertained me, but I think my disagreement with the choices at the end distracted me from fully appreciating the piece as a whole.

Review of a Show: Three Sisters

So I saw this production of Three Sisters by Anton Chekhov a little over a week ago on April 18^th. It was done by Ghost Light Productions in Seattle. I will be honest and up front before continuing, I did not enjoy this production. And it wasn’t just because I don’t like Chekhov. In fact, I tend to enjoy most Chekhov. I loved the production of Uncle Vanya we did last year and I liked reading Cherry Orchard in my theatre history class. But this production was not good. I’ll touch on a few things, but I had major problems with most aspects of the show, other that set and lighting for the most part.

First, there was the acting. I’m not saying everyone in the show was bad. I actually liked the woman that played Masha and the man who played Vershinin. They worked very well together as a pair, and I really believed them. But to be quite honest, most of the actors in this show did not handle Chekhov’s language very well. Things just sounded so forced and awkward, like it was a different language other than English. It wasn’t natural. And with Chekhov, the language is extremely important. It conveys class, age, feeling, so much really. And in these shows, people really don’t do a lot. It’s mostly about what they say to each other. So when what they say doesn’t sound right, or we can’t quite grasp the meaning because the actors aren’t fully able to communicate things properly, the audience’s ability to stay engaged in the work goes away. The one time I was incredibly impressed with an actor was in the case of the doctor. He has a very large speech, to himself, looking in a mirror. This actor was able to really commit to the speech, and it was really obvious he fully understood what his character was saying. Other than this moment, his character was a little bit useless, but that honestly has a bit to do with the writing. But this production didn’t really try to make him seem useful at all. He was just sort of…there. It was really odd to me.

Something that I really think did not work was the sound design. They chose to use instrumental versions of modern songs throughout, even though the set and costumes were period and the show was obviously set in the time Chekhov wrote it. I think it would have been cool, had it been done with a purpose and added something to the show. But it didn’t. Instead it detracted. I got distracted by the odd song choices. They didn’t add anything to the scenes or the overall themes of the show. I guess what I could say about learning things as a writer is that I will need to remember that everything can change when a director or designer gets a hold of it. Obviously, in some cases, such as with Fences, the tech work can add to the text and give it that extra kick. Here, it did not work. It distracted me and really didn’t bring anything new to what was happening.

I think from this show, the best thing I can take away is this: if you want something to be a certain way, be specific! In a lot of cases, stage directions are general, and directors ignore them most of the time anyway, so it is better to be as specific as possible if you are really married to an idea. Obviously, the text isn’t everything in a performance. It is important, it is the foundation of the show, but once you add the actors and designers, everything can change. An author can only give so much and then hope the production team won’t screw it up.

Fences: The Live Viewing!

So I realize this is a little late to be putting up, but for some reason I completely forgot to post my blog! Sorry! Better late than never I suppose…

I would have to say that I really enjoyed this production of Fences. Was it perfect the whole way through? No. But then again, no show is perfect. The good moments were good enough though that I was very satisfied with the end result. I will say, I am a person who tends to see more of the good in a production rather than the bad, I guess when I go see a show, I really want to like it! But I still think this was a good production. I do wish I would have seen it before reading it, but I’ll live.

One of my favorite moments in the show that I felt worked better on stage than on the page was the moment just after Troy tells Cory to leave. In the script, all that is there are the words. Troy says, “I can’t taste nothing. Hallelujah! I can’t taste nothing no more” (Act II, Sc. Iv). When I read that, there didn’t seem to be a lot of remorse about “losing” his son. After that, he switches to taunting death. I honestly didn’t have a lot of sympathy for Troy because he seemed to be devoid of love for his son. But in the live production, there was this beautiful moment in this speech where the man playing Troy almost broke down. He cried, his voice broke, and he actually seemed truly upset that his son had just left and his life was crumbling around him. In that one moment, I suddenly felt sorry for Troy. I don’t think I had really connected to him much before then. I viewed him as rather heartless and selfish. But at that moment he suddenly became human. I really felt something for him. It was so…touching. It really showed the difference an actor can make to the overall turn out of a show. It was a really cool moment for me.

Something I debated with a lot of people was the portrayal of Cory. I would agree, I felt the actor in this particular production was not the strongest, but I wouldn’t say I hated him. I thought he actually did a good job of capturing what some might refer to as teenage angst. He had the right amount of whine to his voice, but still took his problems very seriously. I think where he could have improved was in his delivery of those fight scenes. There, he just seemed a bit flat to me. yes, he was angry, but there needed to be more passion. There was a good balance to the things that a teenager find serious, he was angry enough about the football stuff. It was when the family began dealing with more serious problems: Troy’s cheating, a new daughter, etc. I wanted more from Cory here, more when he was really laying into his father, and he lacked something there. Honestly, the actually stage combat portions seemed weak because he didn’t really have a lot of energy. However, what I did love was his work in the last scene. I know a lot of people found him too stiff in the end, but I thought he was perfect. He lacked just the right amount of emotion, so that when he did suddenly break down, it was all the more powerful. I think August Wilson got it right, having Cory become a Marine. It provided an amazing contrast to what he had been like before, and allowed us to see the intense change in him. That moment when he actually broke down during the song and showed the emotion he had been holding back throughout the scene was so much more touching to me. I really loved it.

All in all, a well done production, beautiful set, and they handled the language/dialect very well.

revisions!

I found this article really interesting. I loved actually getting inside a professional writer’s head and learning about his process and how goes about revision. Revision is an area where I feel like I am a little weak. I definitely feel like I am bad at knowing what to cut and what to change, I really do need to go through it with another person and discuss aspects. Yet, there are often little things that bother me, and I just don’t know how to fix them.

One of the things I really liked was when Peter Shaffer talked about his first revision and explained he did not do it because he wanted to sell more tickets. The show was doing extremely well, selling out every night, people lined up around the block at 6:30 in the morning just to get tickets. And yet, he was not satisfied. He didn’t feel the show was as truthful as it could be. He didn’t feel it was true to the characters, and it just wasn’t right. I really respected that. To him, the play wasn’t about selling seats; it was about telling the story that needed to be told. What I would say to learn from that is a writer needs to carefully read a show and focus on each character. For every moment in the show, he/she needs to really ask themselves, “Would the character actually do that? Would he/she say that?” If you can’t answer yes every time, then something needs to change, even if other people love it. It’s more important to be true to your characters and the story than to please your audience.

Another thing I really liked was how many different ways he tried stuff, not just on paper, but in action. He actually had actors doing the different incarnations of the scene before him, for only then could he really see how it worked. I really appreciate that. I think that it’s hard when you are only writing things down to really know if it’s going to read well on stage. So much of a play is determined by how an actor interprets it/how it sounds out loud. When you can’t actually see the physical, you can’t quite know how it’s going to work. So I guess what I would take away is that if you do drastic revisions you need to get actors to perform it for you. You cannot finalize your play until you see the whole thing performed before you. I guess my only question about that is this: it seemed to me that Peter Shaffer was getting his shows performed in full productions with lights, sets, sounds, etc. (maybe I was misinterpreting the text) but I wonder how different it would be to just do a staged reading. I mean, I suppose it is easier for a writer to really understand if the play is going work if it is seen as a full production, but I think it is sometimes just as beneficial to at least see it in a staged reading.

To sum up: don’t compromise just to sell tickets, see it done live! W00t!

10 Minute Plays, Day 1

I really enjoy ten-minute shows. I think it’s an impressive feat to write a well-rounded and engaging show, with developed characters, all in under ten pages. Full-length plays have 90+ minutes to do all this, sometimes with multiple acts. Yes, there are increasingly more characters and more complicated plot lines, but still. They have a lot of time to work things out. Ten minute plays have to communicate a lot of things in a very short amount of time, so when they actually make sense and are interesting to watch, I am impressed, to say the least.

My favorite show of these four was definitely The Roads That Lead Here. I think what I liked about this was the subtle use of exposition and how it was developed. Without them having to say anything, from the beginning I began to figure out what these boys were doing. There were small hints, like when the Xander and Marcus were discussing the need for Jason to be there because they need to share their things, or mentioning only seeing each other once a year. So once they back story was actually explained, it wasn’t as much of a surprise, which I think worked. Instead of being thrown off, the audience is affirmed in what they thought was true. And I liked the way the back-story was given to us: the father is questioning what they do, and thus as a way to affirm their lives, they explain it to us. I also enjoyed that there were a few surprises after the big expository moment. I was not expecting them to be so intensely dedicated to their project, i.e. all of them were still virgins when the oldest is almost 30. Also, the father blowing up their cars at the end of the show. I wasn’t entirely expecting it, yet I loved that, the idea that by living their “dream” they weren’t actually growing up, so the father killed their dream so they could go live their lives. Brilliant! But I also loved how ambiguous it was at the end; you didn’t exactly know where it would go after that, which is really interesting. So I guess if I was to summarize things I learned from this show I would say: use hints to begin developing exposition, have a big moment revealing back story, add a few surprises, insert dramatic yet ambiguous ending.

What I think is great is that for the most part, the other shows did all those things as well. In The Man Who Couldn’t Dance we understood immediately that Gail and Eric were more than just friends, but not to the extent that we later find out. The surprise? Eric being the one who is more upset about it. The ambiguous ending? The dance together and what it could mean when she turns out the light. In A Bowl of Soup we get hints that something is not quite right with Robbie and Eddie wants to help him, but the surprise is that Robbie’s lover just died. While the ending is less ambiguous, it is still very powerful with the last line “Put it in a bowl. I want to know we were here”. In That Midnight Rodeo we know she is going to a doctor’s for some reason and are slowly clued in as to why. The surprise? It’s for an abortion because Cindy is unwilling to give up her dreams. The ambiguous ending? Whether or not she will actually get it.

What I think stands out to me the most is the simple natures of these pieces and yet the complex ideas they raise. They are snapshots in the moment of someone’s life. I view them as a theatrical punch, like they are almost a bang of energy and drama and then they’re done. The shows are less about furthering the plot and more about showing us the back-story and then revealing something new or surprising. But I think the thing that is most important is the end. You need to leave the audience with some moment or line that they will remember, something with impact. The plays almost seem like a road to getting us there, which I think is really cool. It’s almost as if the climax of these plays is the end, which is kind of a cool idea.

Suffice it to say, I anticipate that I will enjoy writing these ten-minute shows :)

Fences

I really loved this show. Honestly, it was just really well written. SO many good things to look at.

I think one of the best things was the balance between the “real” of the play and making it dramatically interesting. I found that the language was the most helpful in making them seem real. We obviously don’t know EXACTLY how people back then talked, and I am not extremely familiar with Southern dialects. But I felt like August Wilson captured the spirit of the South in their speech patterns. Each person spoke slightly different. Troy definitely sounded older, like he was from a different generation, whereas Lyons and Cory, in their speech, represented two aspects of a new generation: the beatnik musician and the rebellious, forward thinking teen. This contrast in speech not only set Troy apart from his sons, but it also showed the clashing between the generations. Cory’s language was also slightly elevated from Troy, as if he was slightly more educated. This established, from the beginning, a disconnect. Troy, unable to attend school, is stuck in his ways. All he knows is work. Cory is educated and understands a need for progress. He has dreams, and goals, and he wants to make them happen. He wants to go to college. So I guess I would say what I learned from Wilson here is to really develop the voice of your character. These differences can help establish relationship immediately and subconsciously.

Something else I noticed was the continual use of symbols. First, there is baseball. Troy uses this as something to make him feel better. It represents his past, his glory days. He was the big cheese in baseball. He can relate to baseball. We soon understand that he views his whole life as a game of baseball. His family and friends are the players on his team, and the obstacles are the team he plays against. When he finally tries to explain to Rose why he slept with Alberta, he himself uses baseball as a means to explain his life. Because he cannot view his life as anything more than a game, he cannot really live his life in a healthy way. He is only competing, even against the members of his own “team”, such as his son Cory. This need to feel like the top dog is what ultimately tears his family apart and leaves him with little to be happy about.

The other symbol that I noticed was the fence. Obviously, this is the title of the show, so it’s important. But I think the thing I noticed that was interesting was calling it Fences and not the singular Fence. It is an allusion to the many fences in the show, both physical and emotional. Bono actual speaks of what the fences mean to people, that sometimes they are meant to keep people in, some to keep people out. Rose begins wanting to hold the family in, whereas Troy wants to get out. Not until his mistress dies and his wife refuses to talk to him unless necessary, when he is no longer comfortable in his life, then he wants the fence. He suddenly wants to bring his family in. But it is not the same love as with Rose. Troy wants to selfishly hold them in to make himself feel more powerful. He is the father, the alpha dog, and he must maintain that status. I think on some level he does love Rose, but it appears to be more the idea of a loving wife rather than Rose herself. So what would I say I learned from this? Find a symbol that can connect to certain themes and weave it throughout the play. It creates something the audience can follow and grab onto, making the play that much more easy to understand.

Eurydice

A little over a year ago, I saw Eurydice performed live at ACT in Seattle. When I saw it, I wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about the play. It seemed so abstract, and while I walked away enjoying it, I didn’t necessarily walk away thinking “that was an amazing show”. I was expecting to feel the same after reading it, but for some reason, I found myself enjoying it increasingly more. I’m starting to think that maybe this was just a show I needed to see and read, something I needed to digest more than once. I’ve been thinking about the production more and more and realizing what a great show it was and is.

I think what impresses me the most about the show is the flow from scene to scene. I often think that plays with lots of short scenes become jumpy and would often serve better as a movie. However, this play makes it work. First, the set never changes. Also, for many of the “scene changes” the lights don’t change, people do no leave the stage; in fact, it appears that people have instead entered an already existing scene rather than starting a new one completely. This allows the play to seem continuous, as if it was in real time. So I guess if I was to say I learned something as a writing technique from this it would be that the flow of a piece from scene to scene can allow it to feel more real. Also, I think the lack of intermission helps it feel like it is in a more “real” time frame. The lack of intermission is also something that contributes to overall flow of the show.

I think another reason why I enjoyed the show more this time was that when I saw it live, I focused a lot on the technical aspects of the show. ACT was able to actually have a raining elevator that lowered from the ceiling. They also had these oversized strings that could be played like a guitar that connecter from the ceiling to the floor. Orpheus was able to play these whenever he sang something, they also used them to build the string house, even the father played them on occasion. Even now, I can remember a lot of the technical details, the costumes, the set, the lights, but I can’t necessarily remember the “play” itself. I don’t think I really listened to what was being said. I almost wish I could see the production in a smaller space, with less emphasis on the tech aspects and more on the words, story, and characters. Not that the actors weren’t exceptional at ACT, but the amazing technical aspects distracted from the acting and story for me. For me, this play is meant to be more simple and abstract, allowing the audience to really focus on the message.

Reading it, I really found myself focusing on the sections focused on the theme of forgetting and remembering. She shows multiple stages of memory loss (aka multiple stages of people in the underworld). There is the father, who has avoided the loss of his memory by continuing to read and speak the language of the living. There is Eurydice, who begins not understanding and slowly remembers, who would rather remember even if it made her sad. There is the grandmother, who has forgotten it all and yet walks about seemingly happy in her almost mindless state. The last is seen at the end, when Eurydice and her father wash themselves in the river for a second time in a desperate attempt to forget because it is too painful to remember. In this state, they cannot remember the pain they have experienced and “life” is more bearable. I loved this progression that she created, but that she incorporated the grandma as the last thing, as well as the most consistent. For me, she was a way of showing us that it is better to remember. She has forgotten, and she is alone. No one sees her, and the only people who talk to her are the ones who still remember. At least when you remember, you can be with the ones you love. At the same time, she is also something hopeful. That even if you forget, life can continue, no matter how strange or mindless it may be. At least you are living.