Yet another valueable lesson learned: You basically don't want mess with HTML unless you really know what you're doing.
posted by Rob on 10:44 AM |
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[ Thursday, December 27, 2001 ]
Whew.
So Blogger is back up, thank God.
I'm on page 41 of my super-secret-special-play, so I can tell you the title of the thing now: Welcome To The Terror Dome.
Hope everybody's Christmas was cool and fun. Betsy and I sat in and watched Buffy reruns for the whole weekend (thank you Buck!) while I wrote and she knitted.
More news as it happens.
I'll try to get a new chapter of Rock On, SisterFriend on here next week--right now this week is dedicated to finishing the new play.
posted by Rob on 6:20 AM |
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[ Sunday, December 23, 2001 ]
Jeez.
So I finally figure out that my guestbook entries have to be approved by me before they'll post.
What a dumbass.
Well, outside of me being a dumbass, not much to report here, except that I'm on page 17 of my super-secret-special project.
I'm gonna get back to it, but before I go, I'm just gonna mention--go see The Man Who Wasn't There--it's one of the most beautiful movies I've seen this year.
posted by Rob on 11:35 PM |
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[ Friday, December 21, 2001 ]
Okay, now, stay with me, folks.
I'm off of work for four days.
Yesterday, I got another idea for a script--a possible full-length one.
So I'm challenging myself; see how much of it I can get done before I have to work again.
Now, this isn't anything I've mentioned before, it's not Orange Murder Suit, or anything I'm planning on doing at Broom Street.
No..this is a new play. I'm actually weirdly excited about it.
Now, I make these challenges of myself all the time. Sometimes they pay off. A lot of times, they don't.
So, I'm not gonna say any more about it--not the title, not what it's about, not even why I'm writing it.
But I have a very good feeling about it.
posted by Rob on 9:05 PM |
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[ Thursday, December 20, 2001 ]
Okay, I think we all learned a very valuable lesson about not posting too much information to Blogger, like, say, for example, the entire script to Irish Lesbian Vampire 2.
I swear to Christ that whole show is bad luck.
posted by Rob on 9:19 PM |
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Oh, I think I just killed my blog.
posted by Rob on 9:19 PM |
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Well, we can sort of make comments now--I've put links to the guestbook here.
It sorta counts.
Shut up! Yes, it does!
posted by Rob on 1:48 PM |
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[ Friday, December 14, 2001 ]
Fall, 1996.
Almost midnight.
Four actors sitting in a car.
The car is in a driveway.
One actor is packing a bowl.
At this point in my life, I am only marginally sure that I get that term right.
“I figure this’ll be good for all of us,” says one of the actors, “especially you, Rob. This is your first show with Gersmann.”
I figure now’s a good enough time to try pot as any.
“Exactly. Exactly. You tried this once before, right?”
Yeah, at your house. But it didn’t work.
“It’ll work this time.”
This actor, I know, knows what he’s talking about.
Hope I don’t “Volcano The Bowl,” I say. See, I add, goofily, I’m up on the lingo…
The people in the car are cool enough to know I’m kidding. But the truth is, I’m a total square when it comes to this.
How long should I hold the smoke?
“I’m a firm believer in as long as humanly possible.”
In this car, in what may be anywhere from one hour to three or four days, the four of us smoke four bowls with the windows rolled up.
Oh.
My.
Dear.
Lord.
At this point, nothing happens suddenly.
One other the other actresses laughs at me simply pivoting my head right and left.
At this point, it’s enough to amuse me.
I turn my head to the left.
A few seconds later the world catches up to me.
I turn my head to the right.
A few seconds later the world catches up to me.
Hey, I say to Mr. Expert, can you briefly run over the symptoms of being stoned, because I think I am…
He looks at my eyes.
“Oh, yeah. You’re one of us.”
I am indeed.
Part 3: Once We Start, There's No Going Back.
The show is called NaziBoy.
This is the story of Horst Wessel, the first skinhead, founder of the Hilter Youth Groups, and writer of the song "Die Fahne Hoch."
It is part two in what will be Joel's Nazi Trilogy, I have heard, which started with The Case of the Nazi Professor in 1994.
I walk toward the theater as someone who may or may not be Lenny rushes by me.
This is how I find out that Lenny Maki, my roommate and friend, is no longer in the cast. At this point in Lenny's life, he has a job that will keep him from making the commitment.
It's a shame. Joel is so impressed with our performances in Please, Please, Please Love Me, that he's cast us both without having us audition.
The cast, currently, is as follows:
Mandy Jones, who I just worked with in Please, Please, Please Love Me. She's a lot of fun--and it's nice to have a familiar face in the cast.
Doug Banasky, who was in Irish Lesbian Vampire and will be directing his first show sometime after this one.
Nate Beyer, who was in The Abortionist, and whose work I really admire.
Alisa Farrens, who I saw in I Am Star Trek.
Shelley Johnson, who was not only in The Abortionist, she was The Abortionist. She's pretty much Broom Street royalty, as far as I can figure.
Bob Moccero, who has been in too many plays for me to count. I remember meeting him once, through another friend in front of a coffee shop. He said something about auditioning for a Broom Street show, and he's pretty much been doing them ever since. He is another person whose work I admire. Bob's physical comedy intimidates me, it's so good.
Isa Norwood, who was stage manager in Please, Please, Please, Love Me and now wants to act.
Megan Ryan, who I know from college--which I'm still in at this point.
Dan Konar, who I met under odd circumstances.
Rick Vorndran, who will now be working with me as a fellow actor. He's the one I look to if I want to check to see if any of this is normal.
And me. "The Kid."
Actually, I'm by no means the youngest person at Broom Street, hell, Joe's younger than I am, but still, I am New Guy Mike, as far as anyone's concerned.
Not that I'm complaining.
And not that anyone in the cast doesn't make me feel right at home. They all seem glad to have me there. Especially Bob. Bob always makes you feel like he's glad you're there.
My life becomes:
Rehearsal.
Bar.
Classes.
Repeat.
Let me explain something else about Broom Street rehearsals. You may remember the typical method for auditions at Broom Street, and the reasons given for it, well, there's another reason I didn't mention earlier as to why the director doesn't have you read from the script at audition.
Because there isn't any script.
See, some of the directors like to write the script to the cast they get. There are a couple of reasons for this, but the main reason is that you can slip in all of the main strengths of your cast, without hitting any of the weaknesses. If you end up getting a cast that isn't that strong, you can make them seem stronger by only having in the show what they do well.
So, what do we do in the meantime?
Stuff.
We practice singing "Die Fahne Hoch" and "" Deutschland uber Alles," until it sticks in all our heads. They're still in my head as I type this. There are only a handful of songs I know all the words to--how happy would you be if two of them were "Die Fahne Hoch" and "Deutschland uber Alles?"
We work out stuff--Joel comes up with an opening bit where as large group of us play skinheads and then proceed to beat the tar out of two praying jews. I get chosen to be the one who slits Doug Banaski's throat and steal his talus.
Finally, when we have script, this is incorporated in the show.
Bob is playing Joseph Goebbels, a role he is reprising from "The Case Of The Nazi Professor." He walks with a hideously exaggerated limp, and is directed by Joel to scream in horrible pain with every step.
I am playing the bartender in the scene, and am told to wipe the bar (which is being played by three of the actors) with the talus. The talus is Joel's from when he was a kid. He's more than delighted to see it used this way.
Bob, as directed, walks over to me.
"Stop!" Joel yells. Joel has a habit of stopping the actors before they really do anything.
He gets up and walks over.
He offers to show Bob how he should really greet me.
Joel staggers in my direction. This is the most he's worked with me for the whole process.
He grabs the back of my head, and pretends to sob with glee.
Then he yanks me over the bar and hugs me tight.
He lets me go, and says to Bob: "That's how I want you to do it."
Now, Bob is directed to take almost a half a minute to walk over to me. It sounds like:
WHUMP..."AAAAAGH!
WHUMP..."OOOOOH!"
WHUMP..."EEEEEE!"
And so on.
He gets to me and says his line:
"BARTENDER! Do you run this SHIT HOLE?"
Yeah! I yell in an over the top Jersey accent. Da Blue Lamppost is da best shit hole in Alex-And-Duh-PLATZ!
This is easily my favorite line I have ever said on stage, ever.
The rehearsal process goes on.
Mandy drops from the cast early on--she needs a break and has done a few shows in a row.
My hair is getting really, really long--I hadn't expected, for some reason, to be on my hands and knee a lot, and Joel has us down there whenever possible.
So, at one point, for reasons I can't hope to explain, I decide to ask Luke, my other roommate, to shave my head. I have never done it before.
"Are you sure?" Luke asks me. "I mean, I'll do it, but, I don't want you to change your mind, because once we start, there's no going back."
I'm sure. My hair's driving me crazy and I can't afford to go to a barber.
"Be sure, because I ain't stopping, once we go."
Well, maybe we shouldn't take so much off...
He points to his head. He's been shaving it for years.
"It's this," he says, "or nothing."
Fuck it, I say. It's go time.
Later that evening, Jeff, another roommate, catches me, thinking I'm alone, compulsively rubbing the top of my head.
"Weird, isn't it?" He asks.
You have no idea, Jeff.
posted by Rob on 5:36 PM |
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[ Thursday, December 13, 2001 ]
Okay, I'm really gonna get Rock On, Sisterfriend Part 3 on here, but I'm just gonna mention this one thing first.
As some of you know, I've become a fan of Wil Wheaton, or more specifically, his website. Well, recently, he posted a link to an interview he did for Salon.com, and dig this--he actually quotes me in the interview!
Okay, no, he doesn't say "Wisconsin Playwright Rob Matsushita said this here cool thing," but he does mention something I emailed him. And that's had me flying all day. Neat.
(Sweet merciful crap, I'm a dork.)
I also just finished a thing called "Generic Play Festival," which I may put up here depending on how paranoid I get about people ripping me off.
Anyway, Part 3 tomorrow.
Promise.
posted by Rob on 9:16 PM |
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[ Wednesday, December 12, 2001 ]
Okay, I swear to God I'll get Part 3 of Rock On, Sisterfriend up here this week (for the two or three of you out there who are reading it), but first, let me mention two things:
One, I don't know if this is affecting everyone, but it looks like the comments aren't working.
Again.
Anyway, thing number two:
I discovered this last year, but I wanted to bring it up here. I found this on http://www.scotsgay.co.uk:
Whatever happened to Bette and Joan
C.
Set during the filming of "What happened to Baby Jane'' we find Bette Davis and Joan Crawford sharing a dressing room and arguing over their lives. This is part documentary (they both talk about how they got to be where they are) and part story (they argue over the film and how they live their lives now).
The play centres around how the press expected them to hate each other and, being stars of the time, they were expected to do what was expected of them. However, this doesn't mean that either of them is happy with the situation.
The play works very well. We have scenes with just one of the actresses and others with both interacting. Switching from monologues about the past to arguments about the present creates a three dimensional story about two gay icons.
For added value Joan is played by a man. And well.
*Martin Powell
*martinp@drink.demon.co.uk
Huh. Someone else had the same idea--only their production was at the UK Fringe Festival almost a month after my show of the same title!
If anyone knows ANYthing about this show, please email me--I'm dying to see how the shows compare!
posted by Rob on 3:34 PM |
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[ Tuesday, December 11, 2001 ]
I normally don't post Online Personality Test results, but this was so perfect I couldn't resist:
![[If I were an online test, I would be The James Bond Villain Personality Test]](http://homepage.ntlworld.com/paulspeller/onlinetest/bond.gif "Click to find out which test you are")
I'm The James Bond Villain Personality Test!
I live in a fictional world of spies and blonde women with ridiculous names, and I like to give people plenty of options. Although whether they're villainous is not optional.
*sigh*
And just to complete this shame spiral I'm on:
 | If I were a James Bond villain, I would be Francisco Scaramanga. I enjoy good food, monopolising the world's energy supplies, and sex before assassinating people. I am played by Christopher Lee in The Man with the Golden Gun. Who would you be? James Bond Villain Personality Test |
Now let's never speak of this again.
posted by Rob on 3:58 PM |
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[ Monday, December 10, 2001 ]
Hey, we can do comments again, since I switched from ReBlogger to Snorcomments. Not crazy about the color, but hey, they work.
Post away! Soon I will be as cool as Wil Wheaton!
posted by Rob on 7:50 PM |
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[ Sunday, December 09, 2001 ]
It seems that Linda Falkenstein is now reviewing books.
I, personally, can't wait to read her complain that the book she almost read all the way through had too many pages and words.
posted by Rob on 10:10 PM |
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[ Tuesday, December 04, 2001 ]
April, 1996.
Again, I wait outside of Broom Street Theater with Joe. Again, it's another Gersmann show.
And again, I've been asked to do gun work.
Joel's not going to remember me, I say.
"Probably not," Joe says.
Dan Konar, an actor in the show, pulls up to the theater in his car--I see Joel Gersmann's grinning face inside. He's looking at me.
"Joel," Joe starts as Joel gets out of the car, "I don't know if you remember Rob--"
"Of course," Joel says, smiling wide, "This is Rob Matsushita--our Gun Guy! I remember him! Come on in!"
Joel is so happy to see me, that he lets me watch a rehearsal for the show.
I am the show's only audience member for this preview.
I am enjoying the show a lot, and then...
"Hooray For The Red, White, And Blue" plays over the speakers, really, really loud.
Dan Konar enters, in costume. He's dressed like a male stripper.
He starts to strip.
I chuckle.
He continues to take off his clothes.
I keep laughing, but more nervously, now.
He is now completely naked.
I realize again that I am the only one in the audience. I do my best to look him directly in the eye--which he can't help but notice.
It's at this point that I abandon all attempts to not look uncomfortable.
Konar's grinning as he grabs an American flag, and--completely naked--flosses his ass with it.
I start laughing again.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I think, Welcome to Broom Street.
Part 2: Maybe you wanna come with me.
Jump to a month later, and Joe, my two friends (who are also my roommates) Lenny Maki and Luke Delwiche, decide, on a whim to try out for Rick Vorndran's next show, entitled "Please, Please, Please Love Me."
I am excited.
I have seen Rick's previous show, "I Am Star Trek," and have really, really liked it.
I have also heard that this new show will contain "Oodles of sex and a smidgen of violence."
So obviously, I'm all over that like a cheap fuckin' suit.
We audition.
Something to point out about Broom Street auditions: some of the directors do not have the actors read from the script for the first audition. At this point, in 1996, virtually none of them do.
Instead, you are asked to read from the newspaper, or perhaps even a storybook.
Then you'll be asked to do things like:
Read it as if you're very, very angry.
Read it as if you're in a burning building.
Read it as if you're stoned.
Read it as if this is the answer to a big puzzle.
You get the idea.
This is to see if you can take direction.
It's also, I was told later, the weed out process. So I go through that.
Rick asks me to read it as if I'm stoned--and I have to admit that I've never been stoned.
(That wouldn't happen until the next show.)
Lenny gets the role of a psychiatrist who has an affair with his niece.
Luke gets the role of a loudmouth tennis pro.
I get the role of John Kaufmann.
This is not only the role I wanted, but one of my favorite roles I have ever played. He's a right-hand man--a heavy.
I have always wanted to play a role like a villain in a Walter Hill movie--and Rick's letting me do it.
So the rehearsal begins.
I figure that since I am just playing the suit, I wouldn't be involved in any of the sex or nudity.
I am wrong.
See, I'm really weird about nudity or sex onstage--not that I mind watching it--but, these days, now that I'm a director, I find it hard to direct it. I don't usually write nude scenes--I'm even weird about directing people kissing.
I'm able to get past it now, but back in the day, in 1996, this is my trial by fire.
See, although I am not naked in the scene, the woman in the scene is--and it's a looooooong scene.
The direction I'm given: Stare at her breasts, mouth agape.
This, admittedly, isn't that difficult.
A quick work about Julie Levinson, the actress in question. Julie is a very cool person--and wins many snaps (can't believe I just typed that) from people in the cast for being so comfortable with her body. She used to be a topless dancer--and is very matter-of-fact about it.
At any rate, because she's so cool about it, I am able to chill out--when it comes down to it, it's so not a big deal, that soon, I'm just thinking about my taxes up there.
(What, you think I'm lying? Yeah, well, you're right.)
It is a strange time, and a fun one. Joe and I pretty much only have one scene together, where we get to face off on each other (We steal a moment from "The Usual Suspects:" The one where Kevin Pollock and Stephen Baldwin get in each other's faces. Very fun). Oddly, we would never be onstage together again until Three Sisters.
You may well be wondering why I've gone back this far just to tell my tale of being in Joel Gersmann's The Three Sisters.
Well, here's the thing:
It's very important to remember how these things start--how, at Broom Street, things have a tendency to build.
You start by going to a show.
Maybe you come back right away, maybe you don't.
You become a fan.
You work on one show.
Then another.
And then another.
You become labeled as "dependable."
Not everyone's story is identical, but they're all similar.
So before you wonder: "Why put up with this?"
"Why do it?"
"Why don't you leave?"
Just remember:
I could be you.
Skipping ahead, the show's runs goes pretty well (save for a pesky incident with a blank-firing gun that I'm saving for another posting), and so we strike. My confidence in being able to be onstage has increased (Rocky Horror reference), and I feel better.
And up comes Joel, his arm around me.
He tells me that he really liked me in the show...
"And I want you to be in my next one--NaziBoy."
I get very excited about this.
So excited that I don't notice other Broom Street regulars chuckling at this. He's got another one, they must be thinking.
When a show closes, the cast for the next show will drop by and help the previous cast during the strike--it allows the next cast to get a jump on things.
The next cast is also a Joel Gersmann cast.
The next show is called Irish Lesbian Vampire.
It is impossible to know Joel Gersmann without having an impression of him, so after Joel leaves (he rarely sticks around for strike--a perk of being the Artistic Director) we all (in both casts) start pretending to stress out and be bossy like Joel, each trying to top each other.
Joe's Gersmann impression is so good, he has called me on the phone with it, and fooled me.
This show is KILLING me, I yell like Joel, out of the side of my mouth: I'm DYING, here! Really DYING!
Turning on someone, I reach my crescendo: Maybe you wanna come WITH ME!
This send a few people into a laughing fit, but one person laughs the loudest. She is on a ladder above me, hanging a curtain. I hadn't noticed her until she laughed at my joke, and as I look at her, she is smiling at me.
She is one of the actors in Irish Lesbian Vampire.
Her name is Betsy McNeely.
In four years, she will be my wife.
posted by Rob on 1:04 PM |
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