14/48: The World's Quickest Theater Festival Blog
"At War" starts out as a play about togetherness under pressure, with the suggestion that people applying for positions or jockeying for stations need not necessarily resort to coldness, meanness, distance or cruelty. The point is agreed upon by the four women present, who take the risk of reaching out to one another, defying habit and paradigm. When the lone man in the room is not only unaccepting of the idea but callous and attacking to his kind company the play turns to become a poking fun and attack of misogyny. The womens' initial response is to break the man's ipad, then to force him into a chair to subject him to a quartet, the ladies singing Nina Simone's "Four Women" together in a show of solidarity, concluding the play and the show at large.
Good work, team.
See y'all at ten-thirty, folks.
"For Love" is a parody of the spy-action spectacle. The word in the booth is "ridiculous," delightfully and intentionally so. While my assessment is somewhat informed by the light operators' murmurings over the thirty-something cues, the crowd was clearly involved and excited throughout. An ambitious and brave approach to theater and a 'spirit of risk-taking' paid off here. Plenty.
This is a very tender play in which two men, strangers meeting at a club, are driven by mutual attraction to what begins as a flirtation. Something about the goodness of the vibe between them married with the lack of anything for either to lose compels them to speak uncharacteristically candidly about their lives, their demons, their problems, their wants. The honesty with which each approaches the other is enough in the end to breed trust, and to open them to the possibility of a deeper connection.
"Waiting" is a look at what might happen if desperate dating show contestants were to be left without a host to see the proceedings along. A bachelorette and three bachelors (a tough, an eccentric businessman, and a perplexing rapper) fumble over what to say or do without the guiding presence of Chuck Woolery. The eventual result is apparently an awkward succession of interviews, followed by a live rap performance. Funny stuff.
After dinner tonight Nick Stokes said to me of his play that he might've slipped into his "Beckett register," which I'll corroborate. "Have or Have Not" looks at the concept of ownership, what it means to own, and what's worth owning: As one man is seduced by abundance, the other pursues the value of relationships, of love. So the play poses the question, who of the two 'has?' Who 'has not?'
Susan Stahl's "Remote Assessment" is a dark and gritty look at a military training exercise built on trial by fire, calm under pressure, bravery in the face of danger. What's interesting about the scenario is the realness of the test, the consequences of failure. Where's the line between education and abuse?
Louis Broome's low-brow take on the vigilante hero just went off seamlessly before an enthusiastic crowd. Having not seen the play in costume in tech I was quite missing out on some handy and hilarious design work. This was worth the wait.
What our five heros (well, four heros and a sidekick) have in common is a sense of strange conviction. What makes them a terrible justice league is that not only are their convictions farcically ridiculous (generally pointless), they don't even agree on them. They spend the show first pontificating about whatever weird thing it is that makes them dress in tights and capes, then quickly arrive at fisticuffs over the incompatibility of their beliefs. It all plays out as if in a raunchy, irreverent, seattle-based comic book.
The evening's final play spent most of its rehearsal time working a Nina Simone cover, which was quick to become clean and beautiful with the aide of the 14/48 band. Once the number was sufficiently tooled out, director Wayne Rawley moved to the top of the show and said, "we'll get as far as we can get before time runs out," an approach I've seen employed a few times today.
The phrase "I'm at war with you," seems to refer simultaneously to warring over professional opportunities, and to the "war of the sexes." It features some really snappy dialogue and a compelling premise I'm eager to see in full form.
With that, it's time for dinner and I'm a hungry guy. I'll see y'all tonight, when I'll be live-blogging once again. Brace thyself.
Our "beast of a show" began tech rather late, the bane of having a ton of props and people to manage. This translated to an initial degree of dysfunction in tech, people talking over and interrupting one another, so many questions and concerns needing to be addressed. Hopefully the ambitiousness of the show pays dividends. It really might.
"For Love and Love Alone" is a James Bond-verses-evil-style action/adventure spectacle, replete with military lingo, miscellaneous foreign accents, techie gadgets, nuclear bombs, the works. As tech winds down actors and director seem much, much more at ease, bolstered by having gotten good work done fast.
"That's time!" says our stage-manager as the ensemble wraps tech rehearsal. "You guys are my heros, nicely done!"
For the second time this weekend Patty Miles Van Beuzekom's play is being directed by Mr. Stan Shields. This time it's our evening's two-hander, purportedly to the pleasure of the playwright. Rumor has it Stan has elicited some additional help from other casts (as extras, I understand), but I see no sign of such a thing in tech. We'll see at eight o'clock. In the mean time, Nollette and Felker are killing it.
Though not much of the action of the play was gone over in tech, I gather it revolves around two men courting at a club, or after having met in one. The dialogue is terse, direct, muscular, written in a much earthier register than last night's "Three Ravens." Pretty neat.
"Waiting for The Dating Game" is Emily Conbere's imagining of what might happen to an episode of The Dating Game if Chuck Woolery were not to show. What would happen if contestants had to invent their own questions and converse without the galvanizing presence of a host? The play pulls a full gender switcheroo, and has a lot of light fun in doing so.
The rhythm of the first half of the show, when in tech, was somewhat stutter-stepping and still in need of some touching-up. As their tech wraps the cast is off to iron out the little remaining wrinkles. This one promises to be a crowd-pleaser.
Director Paul Budraitis didn't mince words as his tech began, "We're running it all the way through from the top!" He must've communicated thoroughly with the light crew prior, as cues are coming up with general precision, apparently without much trouble. Just little tweaks. He's the most vocal director of the weekend, by my current estimation.
I could tell this was a Nick Stokes play with the first line of dialogue, what I've seen of it something like a fourth-wall-breaking marriage of Mr. Stokes play from last night, "Hold," and "Waiting for Godot." If "Hold" is a contemplation of the concept of holding, this is a contemplation of the concept of having.
"Have and Have Not" abandons its initial "run it all the way through" idea for tech, opting rather to focus on dialing in transitions, which are looking lovely. Really a pretty play in the ways of both words and images, to the credit of both the writer and director. This is really gearing up to be a great night of short plays (even if stress levels may be spiking at the moment--this is the point in the day when that always happens).
The first half of the "Remote Assessment" tech run took place in near total darkness to ambient sounds emanating from the band. This seems to be a spelunking play, as there's been so much wrangling of rope in so much darkness.
Director Jose Amador focuses his energies principally on light transitions, but encounters a little trouble in the form of technical difficulties. He bides his time patiently, speaking one-on-one with one actor, then another, then another.
The "Remote Assessment" team manages to hit all of their transitions, but speaks few words and does little in the way of blocking. With their remaining moments they manage to run maybe half a page of dialogue, which leads me to think (though I promise nothing) there might be a bomb-diffusion going down. I''m looking forward to seeing and writing on it at eight.
In other news, Falls Theatre is much more full of people than it was at this time yesterday. Maybe this is an indication that folks are feeling more comfortable in their respective roles? Might stand to reason.
Tech for the Jose Amador directed play #2 "Remote Assessment" by Susan Stahl begins with actress Mik Kuhlman climbing over me. My reaction is pictured at right.
Three o'clock means the directors' meeting is under way, half hour till tech. In an economical, brass tacks fashion directors are taking turns in order of performance running crew through details pertaining to light, sound, blocking, music, and the kitchen sink. The tomfoolery is at a very low level just now, folks sounding like they're detailing the processes of balancing an equation, not the customary cracking wise.
Word from Nik Perleros, director of the evenings penultimate offering, "For Love and Love Alone," is that his play is tremendously cue- and tech-heavy. For its logistical complexity, "Love Alone," has just been affectionately referred to as "The Beast."
In a few minutes I'll be in the Falls Theatre, beginning the three-and-a-half-hour-long-tech-blog-athon. Expect some thoughts and reflections on the tech run of each show.
The directors' meeting ends with hugs and thanks. Fewer than five hours till show-time.
Play #7, Sean Nelson’s “I Am at War With You” directed by Wayne Rawley gets a little bit o’ stage time to rehearse a Nina Simone song. Pretty tune, I'd never heard before. Me thinks that I heard the four ladies were a little bit nervous about busting into song. I gotta say though, watching them practice…the girls have got some pipes and I don’t think they have anything to be nervous about.
Holler ladies…holler for dollars.
The eight o'clock show has been sold out for a couple days. However, in an exciting turn of events, the powers that be have decided to release the thirty standing-room-only tickets for sale. These tickets won't be available for pre-sale, they'll need to be purchased and picked up at the box office. Come early and get yours!
Ok, I might have found what my favorite play of the night is gonna be. Play #1 “The Queen Anne Justice League” by Louis Broome is about freakin’ costumed crime fighters! In Queen Anne!! I LIVE THERE!!!
Well played Sir Whitfield…well played.
The band just finished arranging a dissonant, jazzy, funeral-march-sounding rendition of The Dating Game theme, something I never thought I'd hear but quite like. They move immediately on to a slap-bass- and beatbox-heavy number before the capable and watchful directorial eyes and ears of Erik Van Beuzekom. He withdraws amped by progress, expressing thanks.
Someone just said, "less than two hours till tech."
I can't believe how quickly time seems to be passing today, and the relative calm of so many people working so hard in such close quarters. There's a lot of composure in the pressure-cooker.
Oop, a Queen cover hits my ear. Just as soon as one task is completed the next beings.
..., athletic shorts, climbing harnesses, increasing pile of detritus (ideally including a nice, dirty old boot), ratty patched suites with classic lines in greyscale, enormous womens' shoes, bling ($ symbol?), lanyards (overheard, "I got a shitload of lanyards!"), two jets, six missiles, a distributor cap with doodads all over it, fat cigar, eyepatch, ...
A list drawn up, the designers' three runners are off to Ballard, Greenlake, Cap Hill, and various other exotic and exciting destinations. Others prepare to build. And away they go.
Please forgive the lateness of this post, I stayed at ACT blogging till they kicked me out last night, and then was too locked out of my house to get the following finished and posted from home.
At any rate, the ten-thirty show was packed and tremendous.
HOLD
Nick Stokes' "Hold" is by my interpretation (and it's quite open for interpretation) an abstract look at man-woman relationships and needs, namely the common need to be held.
The three female roles are anthropomorphized natural entities, one the earth, one the sky, one the cosmos. The mystery of a strange box is pondered and discussed in heightened, philosophical, and poetic terms, each of the 'elements' offering a unique take on its importance, value, and sanctity. Naturally, necessarily, it is eventually opened. When a man emerges from the box there develops a shared fascination with him, various yearnings for him, and he expresses an infatuation with each of the entities in turn.
The eventual discovery of the play is that as soon as The Entity is possessed it is corrupted, that the valley filled is no longer a valley (the euphemism must be deliberate). The distances between ourselves and the things we desire and persistent, torturous, and necessary. I think it's a lovely and sad thing to contemplate.
To my surprise, "Hold" was met with emphatic laughter, presumably for an uber-artsy aesthetic that drives it into the realm of parody (though I don't particularly hear this quality in the text). Regardless, Stokes offers some beautiful words, idea and images, and a lovely little play to contemplate.
THE FOURTH WALL KID
Our evening's two-person offering, "Fourth Wall," featured two tour guides at a zoo who, in describing enclosed animals and plants, are quick to project their own qualities, faults, fears, and ambitions. In doing so they reveal too much about themselves to their captive audience, both guides consequently coming off as quirky, neurotic, and delightfully damaged or troubled.
Overhearing one another's strange (terrible) tours, the tour guides cannot resist launching into conversation, wherein each becomes an object of simultaneous interest, irritation, and infatuation to the other. When they, in comedic earnestness, begin to drive at the heart of their differences, they become painfully and simultaneously aware of the overbearing influence of The Human Resources Lady (the playwright), who treats them mutually like pawns, disregards their potentials, subjects them to lives of duress and servitude.
The wall to an animal enclosure is represented by the fourth wall of the theater, the beasts and brutality of the predatory, 'real' human world by the audience. Resolving no longer to be characters in a drama they're suddenly painfully aware they're in, their thoughts and movements plotted, but to become dynamic and empowered people, the two conspire to face the brutality of reality, to penetrate the fourth wall, and in doing so escape the tyranny of the play. Very meta. Very funny. Very good and endearing.
THERE ARE AT LEAST TWO LUKES AT BALLARD HIGH SCHOOL
The last play of the evening, "Two Lukes," concerns five high schoolers rehearsing a Greek tragedy for a class assignment. When one of their classmate/collaborators, Luke, is unable to make rehearsal he sends a friend, also named Luke, to rehearse in his stead. I'm not sure why it's a point of confusion or particular interest for the kids that there is a second Luke at Ballard High School, or why the point is so frequently returned-to. Regardless, we are reminded severally that there are indeed two Lukes at Ballard High School.
The "replacement Luke" is awkward, conventionally nerdy, germaphobic; he possesses all the telling qualities of the high school pariah. He purports to want to rehearse with these other kids, yet doesn't seem to want to be there, and attempts to fabricate excuses to leave almost as soon as he arrives. I'm left with the definite sense with this play that there's something intended in the writing that I didn't catch. Maybe the whole thing was meant to be absurd, but didn't commit enough to the world to come through clearly.
A first high point of the play is the high schoolers' line readings of the tragedy, which are deliciously clunky, mispronounced, insufferable. Some classic and familiar elements of bad theater are put on parade, and poked fun of. It's cringe-inducing and playful.
A second high point is the blood ritual with which the play ends (overt absurdism): Luke becomes overstimulated, passes out, and is ritualistically smeared by his peers with blood. It's a surprise, a visual treat (all the troubleshooting with the lights during tech really paid off), and a head-scratcher.
The sum total of the show: several strong performances onstage, some very clever dialogue (in high school colloquial, of course), some lovely and disturbing visuals, and a bit of a meandering premise.
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With that I've written at some length about each of Friday's seven shows. I'll be at ACT all day today and late into the night, so do come down and I'll buy you a beer. Or you can buy me one. Or you can just come to the show and the subsequent party and we can not acknowledge one another at all.
More thoughts to come over the course of today, tonight, tomorrow.
