The Gun Show Is Now Up on Stage at 16th Street Theater

The Bottom of the Box. 15 JULY 2014

My second full-length play production occurred in 2007.  Darin Anthony directed the world premiere of my hostage drama "Heads" at the Blank Theater in Los Angeles, California.  It's a dark little story, about four civilian westerners who are taken hostage during the early years of the war in Iraq.  The play has had five or six more productions, but that first one came to mind the other day.  I remember having a discussion with Darin about the ending of the play.  Specifically, he was asking me about the final stage direction, in which (spoiler alert!) the two surviving hostages are thrown together into a single cell.  Both of them are grieving.  One approaches the other with a tin of food; he slaps it out of her hands.  She tries again.  My final stage direction read something like "she holds out the tin again - lights out - end of play."  And Darin asked me if I thought that Michael might reach out and take the tin from Caroline, the second time she offers it.  We talked about it a lot.  I think we might have tried the scene both ways, with the actors.  I ended up choosing to end the play with Michael accepting the tin from Caroline.  It was a small change that made all the difference.  How you end something is really important.

I was thinking about the end of "Heads" because I've been thinking about the end of "The Gun Show."  It's my seventh or eighth full-length play to be produced, and as always, I have found myself having intense conversations with my director about the play as we work together to bring it to the stage.  The original ending (before the last 20 or 30 rewrites) had the actor abandoning the audience after the last story.  He leaves the stage.  Leaves the audience to think what they think and feel what they feel.  And the play still kind of ends that way, but my director, Kevin Fox, asked me if I thought that a conversation with the audience about the rather intense subject matter of the play -- guns and gun violence and gun control -- might be a natural follow up to our performances here at 16th Street Theater in Chicago, especially since the play explicitly asks, at one point, "Can we have this conversation?"  We talked about it a lot.  I was nervous about the idea, but Kevin had a carefully thought-out plan.  I ended up choosing to let him try it.  It was a small change that has made all the difference.  People have been sharing their own gun stories, and listening to each other, really listening to each other.  I have felt both humbled and supported by their willingness to take part.  How you end something is really important.

And I realized that maybe what both of these directors were asking me to do, with these dark little plays of mine, was not to step back from the darkness, but to keep reaching inside until I got to the furthest point that the plays were trying to take me to.  The bottom of the box.  

Don't close it until you let the hope out, Ellen.

Supporting Young Playwrights!

The last couple months have allowed me two opportunities to support young playwrights in the making, one on each coast.

The first person who supported my writing (that I can remember) was Mrs. Berrum, my fourth grade teacher, who taped my first poem to the bulletin board on her wall, and left it up there all semester.  But there have been a lot of people since then...  mentors Ben Masselink and Lee Wochner, and a host of other folks who have supported me, produced my plays and encouraged my crazy compulsion to become a writer.  (I should include my patient and wonderful family in this category!)

So!  Given the opportunity to give back is a wonderful thing.

THE STATE STREET PROJECT AT PASSAGE THEATER -- TRENTON, NJ
Last month, I spent a day with the wonderful folks at Passage Theater from Trenton, NJ and a great group of kids from Emily Fisher Charter School.  Passage's "The State Street Project" employs the "playmaking" model created by the 52nd Street Project in New York.  One on one mentoring results in a ten-minute play written by each and every kid.  This batch of plays are going up at Passage Theater on June 4-5, 2011.  Check 'em out!

THE YOUNG PLAYWRIGHTS FESTIVAL AT THE BLANK THEATER -- HOLLYWOOD, CA
This is the third year I've participated in the Young Playwrights Festival, produced by the Blank Theater in Hollywood, CA -- but it's the nineteenth year that they've done it!  I love the Blank -- they've done readings of a bunch of my plays in their Living Room Series, and produced the world premiere of my play Heads.  Each of the twelve winning playwrights are assigned a mentor, who helps them through one rewrite/touch-up of their plays before they go up in full, star-studded productions that run throughout the month of June.  The plays are great fun -- and you get a chance to encourage some really talented young writers.  Go see it!

The Young Playwrights Festival

I feel lucky to have been asked again this year to be a mentor for the Blank Theater Company's Young Playwrights Festival. On Friday night, I schlepped over to the Stella Adler Theater in Hollywood to meet my playwright, Gabe Neustadt, and see the show. Despite the whole area being surreal (located one block over from Michael Jackson's star on the day after he died -- a madhouse!), I was so glad to be there!

Gabe is a 19-year old playwright from Florida who just graduated from high school, and is on his way to Harvard. A smart young man! And a good writer. His play is called "Who Is Morrie Rothline?" -- and it's an intriguing exploration of both madness and guilt. One of my favorite actors, Jeremy Gabriel, was in it. I worked with him in the original workshop production of "Infinite Black Suitcase" at Moving Arts, and in the Blank's production of "Heads." He's outstanding! So was Tom Lenk, who played the more than moderately unhinged titular character...

A great night of theater, and a great cause. Check it out next year! Support young playwrights!


Playwright Gabriel Neustadt (Who Is Morrie Rothline?) with actors Tom Lenk and Jeremy Gabriel at the Young Playwrights Festival 2009!

HEADS Re-Re-Re-Redux

My play is coming back to haunt me. Which is a good thing.

I started writing "Heads" around 2004, as near as I can remember. I ought to write these things down. The war in Iraq was well underway, and as Caroline Conway (my character) says, "Everything is 'quite all right,' but there are more bombings every day. Lots of bombings." Casualties were high on our side and much, much higher on the Iraqis'. Many of us felt conflicted (or downright angry) about the war, but enmired we were. It was happening, with or without our lefty-liberal blessing. We were there.

But of course, we weren't there. We were all the way back here. And trying to make sense of things. Trying to be angry at our government for starting a war we didn't believe in or agree with without being angry at the American soldiers who were being sent over there to fight it. Trying to keep from conflating terrorism and the Muslim faith. Reeling, still, from 9/11 and this (this?) response to it. Wondering what voice we had in a world where GW had been re-elected. Our country? Was it our country still?

Yes.

I didn't leave, did I?

My country.

So there I was trying to figure out how to own this war, (amongst other ugly personal arguments with self), and the hostage-taking began. And the threats of beheading. And the beheading. And the videos of the beheading. And whether or not you think this is a more awful way to die than all the other ways there are to die, it has the particularity of an affixed date.

"What if it was me?" I thought. What if I had... say seven days... to sort out everything about the war and about myself? And about myself. And about myself. Have I done any good here? Have I done any harm here? What the hell have I been doing with my life? And... if every moment is a new moment where we are able to act to define ourselves... what do I do now with this very last moment?

Last Monday, I went to New York for a reading of "Heads" at Emerging Artists Theater. Sitting in rehearsals with the director and actors, listening to the reading, and then participating in an impromptu talk-back afterwards was a strange experience, like being visited by my own ghosts. I adore Jack and Michael. I am Harold and Caroline. My heart wrenched a bit. But it was lovely, too, hearing that the play has (perhaps... I hope...) human questions in it that remain, even as some of the war questions have been answered.

The play has certainly had an upswing in interest lately. Lawrence Harbison at Smith & Kraus will be publishing a scene from the play in one of his "Best Scenes" anthologies -- look for that at the end of the year. Halcyon Theater in Chicago has included the play in its 2009 Alcyone Festival -- six plays, written by women, on the subject of terrorism -- running through June and July. And a small theater in Denver, called "And Toto Too," will be producing the play in October -- a month-long run. I'm delighted that the play is finding these beautiful new homes, and can't wait to see what these nice folks in Chicago and Denver do with my play -- how they make it their own.

Everything is resonating with the play right now. I've been talking with all these people -- figuring out contracts, discussing travel plans, attending the New York reading rehearsals, e-mailing back and forth with directors and artistic directors and actors about the play and inviting people to the reading and shows. I have seen the artistic director, all four actors, the director and the set designer from the world premiere production at the Blank theater in the last week at a new play my director is directing at the Odyssey, at a Young Playwrights Festival kick-off party and at my New York reading after not seeing most of them for ages. My LA Michael came to my NY reading, and at one point I turned around and he was pow-wowing with the NY Michael -- odd seeing them together. My Chicago artistic director (Tony Adams) asked for and received information on how they created the moss-like substance in the boys' cell from my generous Los Angeles director (Darin Anthony) and set designer (Dan Jenkins). On Saturday, I'm meeting with a couple actors to do a table read of a sequel to "Heads" that I've been mucking about with that may or may not ever become a full-fledged play. I had this notion about a trilogy...

Anyway... I'm new to this. This resonance. It was so grand and amazing having someone do my play once, it felt greedy (necessary, but greedy) to ask for more from the world. But here it is. More has arrived, in a bushel basket.

The Chicago folks have their first performance of "Heads" on Saturday night. My thoughts will be with them. I can't wait to meet them all at some point during the run, when I fly out there! I hope they are enjoying working on my play.

Go see the Young Playwrights Festival!

Check out the Young Playwrights Festival (YPF), a wonderful annual festival produced by the Blank Theater, encouraging young people to write for the stage. I'm a mentor again this year, and delighted to be part of things!

The Blank Theatre Company's 17th Annual Nationwide

YOUNG PLAYWRIGHTS FESTIVAL

at the Stella Adler Theater

6773 Hollywood Blvd, 2nd Floor

Hollywood, CA 90028

June 4 -June 28, 2009

$2 Validated Parking at Hollywood & Highland Center

Each play is performed only five times in the week it is scheduled to run.

Weekly Performance Schedule:

Thurs, Fri, Sat 8PM

Sun 2PM & 7PM

This Week's Plays
Thurs-Sun: June 4-7

WHAT ALL SCHOOL CHILDREN LEARN
by Benjamin Sprung Keyser (Age 16 Los Angeles,CA)
Starring Tristen Bankston, Elena Campbell-Martinez, Spencer Daniels, Warren Davis, Angela Gibbs, Elaine Hendrix, Jack Laufer, Braeden Lemasters, Pam Levin, Austin O’Rell, Lori Quinn, Lance Shigematsu, Myk Watford

I GET KNOCKED DOWN
by Patrick Howley (Age 19 Avon, CT)
Starring Newton Kaneshiro, Henderson Wade, Adam Wylie

A. & A.
by Alexander Nunnelly (Age 17 St. Petersburg, FL)
Starring Emmy-winner Gordon Clapp and Khary Payton

Baseball is Good. A Reading of "Catch" at the Blank

On Monday, November 24th, I had a reading of my "baseball" play, Catch over at the Blank, in their Living Room Series. It went really well. Surprisingly well! I was pleased.

The reason why baseball gets quotes, above, is because the play both is and isn't about baseball. It also is and isn't about child molestation. And swallows. (The bird, I mean.)

I finished writing a draft of this play a couple years ago. On my personal timeline, it was in progress around the same time as Heads. I think of it as my odd little play. It's short (for a full-length), and blows out all sense of space and time, as we follow an accountant named John through his present and past, after a breakdown that follows his testimony, as an adult, about having been molested as a child by a stranger. It's a memory play. It's got magical elements. And the large cast is never supposed to leave the stage. I started Catch in Trey Nichols' playwriting workshop, got some good help on it in Aaron Henne's playwriting workshop, then workshopped it myself at Moving Arts with a great group of actors, trying to figure out what this story wanted to be. It's the first play that I literally cut and pasted -- trying to re-create the fragmentation of PTSD.

The folks over at the Blank have been great about letting me come and play in their playground -- which they call The Living Room Series -- a developmental staged reading series that happens every single Monday night through the school year. Heads had a stage reading there (and was subsequently produced at the Blank -- yay!). They've also done readings of Song of Extinction and Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday. It's nice to have a chance like this to not just hear the play, but also stage it out a little and see if the action of it works on a stage. See how it moves. See *if* it moves!

When the folks at the Blank said they'd like to include Catch in the LRS, they asked if I had any directors in mind. I have several "usual suspects" that I love to work with. But readings are always a good way to feel out a director who you haven't worked with before, to see how they cast, how they work, what kind of feedback they can give you, how they pull together a reading and whether or not you enjoy working with them. And, of course, they're doing the same sort of assessments on you. Is this playwright crazy or sane? Good or bad? Willing to work on her play, or not? Fun or boring?

I met Emilie Beck about a year ago, when Song of Extinction was a finalist for the Center Theater Group's Los Angeles-based Sherwood Awards. We corresponded, we met for coffee, and we've been trying to find a way to work together (or see if we'd like to try to work together). This seemed like a great opportunity to do so.

I was nervous about the play. The content is difficult in a different way than my usual fare. The structure is strange. There are magical characters and monologues.

Emilie pulled things together very, very nicely, though. She cast an incredible group of actors. She also asked Caitie Hannon to help out as her Assistant Director.

John: Matt McCray
Ann: Lanai Chapman
George: Jade Dornfeld
Pete: Tom Kiesche
Zach: Hugo Armstrong
Syd: Dinah Lenney
Ben: Jim Ortlieb
Sal: LeShay Tomlinson
Dale: Maia Danziger
Voice: Warren Davis

We had three rehearsals, and she managed to move my big cast around that small stage in a way that gave people a sense of the play without them running into each other. She was great with the actors and very helpful with the text (which she *got*).

I felt like the audience went with us. The actors certainly gave their all. I have a lot more faith in the play now than I did before the reading, and it was wonderful to get a director's eye on it. I was ready for that next step.

I hope I get to work with Emilie and these actors again some time!

(PS: The picture above is not from the reading. We had lots of actors on the stage, but no trained cats. That's Joe, with the softball and mitt that I bought when I was working on the play. Baseball is good.)