Off today to New York City to see Judith Ivey's THE LADY WITH ALL THE ANSWERS and then to meet with Judith about my play, THE PORCH. Always pleased when a respected actor reads my stuff, gets it, and expresses interest in it. Doesn't happen all the time. Almost never happens with Artistic Directors, Literary Managers, or Dramaturgs. Anyway, we'll see what we shall see.
Netflix delivered the remake of THE TAKING OF PELHAM 1-2-3 yesterday. Good flick. Especially worth watching for John Travolta's lunatic villain--not a big challenge, showy role, but he pulls it off quite well--and, most especially, for Denzel Washington's mild-mannered, schlumpy, ferociously honest exec-turned-subway train dispatcher. I've never thought a lot about what Denzel brings to the table as an actor, but he never disappoints. Always seems to bring his A-game and, in this case, sacrifices leading man good looks and charisma for sincerity and accommodation of the story, making the movie, perhaps, a little better than it really is. There's a lot of action and things blowing up, of course. It is a Tony Scott film, after all. But Denzel's character--and John Turturro's hostage negotiator as well--ground the story in reality, and make the film worth watching.
That's all I have today. Must begin checking every faucet and electrical outlet in preparation for my three days away from here.
It's exhausting, being me.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
NYC
When I was a yoot (thank you, Joe Pesci), traveling to New York City was THE big thing for me. I did it annually, thanks to the Sacred Heart Band, which marched in the St. Patrick's Day parade every year for about 20 years. And I would continue to visit at least once a year throughout my time in high school. Back then, it was possible to see a Broadway show for a price that insanity had not yet overcome. (I don't know if that sentence makes sense, but I'm going with it, regardless.) I believe I saw CABARET for six bucks, mainly because I purchased a last-minute, half price ticket. So the ticket was twelve bucks. Or maybe it was 24 and I paid 12. Whateveh! It was cheap. I remember that Anita Gillette played Sally Bowles and she was terrific. I saw both Ginger Rogers and Pearl Bailey play "Dolly," in different productions, of course. Pearl's "Vandergelder" was Cab Calloway. One doesn't think about the iconic position these people would take when one is 15. I saw Robert Goulet, much maligned as a lounge lizard in his later career, in his wonderful, Tony-winning performance in THE HAPPY TIME, a lesser-regarded but beautifully written musical by Kander and Ebb. I saw Ruby Keeler in NO, NO NANETTE, along with Jack Gilford and Helen Gallagher. Irene Ryan doing her show-stopping number in PIPPIN. Ben Vereen, too, of course. (I think so, anyway. Not sure if he was still in the show when I saw it, but since Ryan was, I assume he was as well.) Jerry Orbach in PROMISES, PROMISES. Jack Albertson and Sam Levene as the original SUNSHINE BOYS. Later, when I was a grad student, I saw Robert Duvall in AMERICAN BUFFALO. Suffice it to say, I've seen some good theatre in New York.
I'm going back tomorrow, for the first time in maybe six or seven years, to meet with the actress Judith Ivey, to talk about her interest in my play, THE PORCH. I will meet with her carrying no expectations, because expectations in my business, at least with me, often lead to black holes. But the fact that she's interested, and seeing me, in the midst of the run of her one-woman show about Ann Landers, makes the trip well worthwhile.
And I may see a Broadway show. But it'll cost me $125.
It was better when I was a yoot.
I'm going back tomorrow, for the first time in maybe six or seven years, to meet with the actress Judith Ivey, to talk about her interest in my play, THE PORCH. I will meet with her carrying no expectations, because expectations in my business, at least with me, often lead to black holes. But the fact that she's interested, and seeing me, in the midst of the run of her one-woman show about Ann Landers, makes the trip well worthwhile.
And I may see a Broadway show. But it'll cost me $125.
It was better when I was a yoot.
Monday, November 9, 2009
The Remake of CAPE FEAR, or What Was Scorcese Smoking?
Because of the proliferation of Blu-Ray discs, many standard DVDs are sold inexpensively these days, so I've been piling up films I think I'd like to see one or two more times in my life, or films that look somewhat interesting, or films by great directors. With this notion in mind, I picked up Martin Scorcese's remake of J. Lee Thompson's 1962 thriller, CAPE FEAR, which I believe was based on a John D. McDonald novel. I had seen the remake on a date, as I recall, so I probably wasn't paying much attention the first time around.
Scorcese has made some great films (RAGING BULL, GOODFELLAS, and, yes, even his Oscar-winning THE DEPARTED), and some not-so-great films with compelling moments in them (THE AVIATOR, GANGS OF NEW YORK). But this one. I don't know what the hell was going through his mind with this one. it was as if Marty said, "Okay, that original? Good flick. Subtle. Sexually charged. Dynamite. Great. Let's just up the tempo a bit, see what happens."
What happens is loud and broad and ACTED within an inch of its life. Robert DeNiro, surely one of the great actors of our generation, got it into his head that he could play a trashy southerner with a trashy southern dialect. Sorry. There's too much Tribeca in him for that. Every drawled vowel sounded like it was italicized in a bad dialect manual. Nick Nolte, as DeNiro's target throughout the film, somehow managed to keep every strand of his slicked-down hair in place as he squinted and scrunched his eyebrows trying to determine how to get DeNiro off his back. (The first thing I would have done is report DeNiro's Max Cady to the fashion police. What was he wearing in this thing?) Jessica Lang seemed to try, frame-by-frame, to out-eyebrow Nolte, and when she couldn't, she yelled. And cried. And screamed. And yelled again.
Somebody thought it was a good idea to use an update of Bernard Hermann's original soundtrack. Not so sure it was that good an idea. In the early nineties, we had reached the stage where we didn't need all that music telling us how to feel. Worked in PSYCHO. The original, that is. Not so much here.
The only moments that worked were SOME moments with the very young Juliette Lewis, who withstood one of the smarmiest scenes in movie history, when DeNiro seduces her character in a school theater, and at least showed us that some thinking was going on in her head, unlike the heads of everybody else in the movie.
Scorcese hired Robert Mitchum and Gregory Peck from the original, and gave them kinda juicy parts, probably to keep them off his back when they saw the remake.
And here's the thing--I'm not saying this movie is unwatchable. It is scary at times and certainly entertaining on a number of levels.
But Scorcese?
I don't think so.
Scorcese has made some great films (RAGING BULL, GOODFELLAS, and, yes, even his Oscar-winning THE DEPARTED), and some not-so-great films with compelling moments in them (THE AVIATOR, GANGS OF NEW YORK). But this one. I don't know what the hell was going through his mind with this one. it was as if Marty said, "Okay, that original? Good flick. Subtle. Sexually charged. Dynamite. Great. Let's just up the tempo a bit, see what happens."
What happens is loud and broad and ACTED within an inch of its life. Robert DeNiro, surely one of the great actors of our generation, got it into his head that he could play a trashy southerner with a trashy southern dialect. Sorry. There's too much Tribeca in him for that. Every drawled vowel sounded like it was italicized in a bad dialect manual. Nick Nolte, as DeNiro's target throughout the film, somehow managed to keep every strand of his slicked-down hair in place as he squinted and scrunched his eyebrows trying to determine how to get DeNiro off his back. (The first thing I would have done is report DeNiro's Max Cady to the fashion police. What was he wearing in this thing?) Jessica Lang seemed to try, frame-by-frame, to out-eyebrow Nolte, and when she couldn't, she yelled. And cried. And screamed. And yelled again.
Somebody thought it was a good idea to use an update of Bernard Hermann's original soundtrack. Not so sure it was that good an idea. In the early nineties, we had reached the stage where we didn't need all that music telling us how to feel. Worked in PSYCHO. The original, that is. Not so much here.
The only moments that worked were SOME moments with the very young Juliette Lewis, who withstood one of the smarmiest scenes in movie history, when DeNiro seduces her character in a school theater, and at least showed us that some thinking was going on in her head, unlike the heads of everybody else in the movie.
Scorcese hired Robert Mitchum and Gregory Peck from the original, and gave them kinda juicy parts, probably to keep them off his back when they saw the remake.
And here's the thing--I'm not saying this movie is unwatchable. It is scary at times and certainly entertaining on a number of levels.
But Scorcese?
I don't think so.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
November 7
So my father died 45 years ago today. This morning. A Saturday. That's how old I am.
I remember waking up and stepping into the kitchen to see my sister Claire sitting on my aunt (Sister Ann Teresa, SSMN)'s lap, crying. My mother was waiting for me. Father McLaughlin was there, too. My brother, Jim, only 9. I believe my mother said, "Daddy's gone." And I know Father McLaughlin said, "God took him." And I remember going right to my father's rocking chair in the kitchen, sitting in it, and saying, "Well, there's just another saint to pray to."
A little dramatic, perhaps portending my future. But there it is. I had last seen my father six days earlier, on a Sunday morning. I had gone to band rehearsal in the school hall, knowing he was heading back to Boston, to the Pratt Clinic, where he had been the preceding week for...the dreaded word...tests. I knew he was having an operation the next day, on Monday. I didn't know what the operation was for, because we were Irish and the adults didn't talk about cancer to the kids. But I knew it was kind of important, this operation. And I knew, when I got home from band and he was already off to Boston with my Uncle Bill, that I needed to see him. So I looked outside the front door and saw that my uncle's black Chevy Impala had just taken a left turn down Otis Street, which meant he'd be coming back out to Moore via Bourne. So I ran as fast as my then-chubby body would take me (pretty fast, to tell you the truth--they didn't call me "Flash" in the school yard for nothing), and caught up with the Impala at the corner of Moore and Bourne.
I have written about this, and performed the written piece on stage. So I won't repeat myself here. I've held off getting it published, but I think I'll do that someday.
And I did say goodbye that morning, to him, in person, to his face. And for that, I am eternally grateful. I didn't know, or even imagine, that the goodbye would be my last goodbye. But it was.
And it was a good one.
I remember waking up and stepping into the kitchen to see my sister Claire sitting on my aunt (Sister Ann Teresa, SSMN)'s lap, crying. My mother was waiting for me. Father McLaughlin was there, too. My brother, Jim, only 9. I believe my mother said, "Daddy's gone." And I know Father McLaughlin said, "God took him." And I remember going right to my father's rocking chair in the kitchen, sitting in it, and saying, "Well, there's just another saint to pray to."
A little dramatic, perhaps portending my future. But there it is. I had last seen my father six days earlier, on a Sunday morning. I had gone to band rehearsal in the school hall, knowing he was heading back to Boston, to the Pratt Clinic, where he had been the preceding week for...the dreaded word...tests. I knew he was having an operation the next day, on Monday. I didn't know what the operation was for, because we were Irish and the adults didn't talk about cancer to the kids. But I knew it was kind of important, this operation. And I knew, when I got home from band and he was already off to Boston with my Uncle Bill, that I needed to see him. So I looked outside the front door and saw that my uncle's black Chevy Impala had just taken a left turn down Otis Street, which meant he'd be coming back out to Moore via Bourne. So I ran as fast as my then-chubby body would take me (pretty fast, to tell you the truth--they didn't call me "Flash" in the school yard for nothing), and caught up with the Impala at the corner of Moore and Bourne.
I have written about this, and performed the written piece on stage. So I won't repeat myself here. I've held off getting it published, but I think I'll do that someday.
And I did say goodbye that morning, to him, in person, to his face. And for that, I am eternally grateful. I didn't know, or even imagine, that the goodbye would be my last goodbye. But it was.
And it was a good one.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Laughing Out Loud
One of the most vivid memories of my childhood has me lying in bed, late at night, listening to my parents--mainly my mother--laughing out loud at the Jack Paar Tonight Show. Or maybe Carson. But most likely Paar. I didn't realize it at the time, because I was a KID and KIDS realize nothing about comfort and contentedness and happiness and well-being. All these notions kick into place when it's much too late in life to appreciate them. But, in recollection, I appreciate those out-loud laughs emanating from the TV Room. Which brings me to Thursday Nights on NBC.
NBC as a network, if you follow the showbiz news, is not performing all that well. Matters not a whit, because NBC provides us with Thursday nights from 8 until 10 and some excellent comedy. True, it has taken COMMUNITY and PARKS AND RECREATION time to settle in. P&R, in fact, is now in its second year and is just finding its comic legs. But, though it may be too late as network brass are probably already looking for a replacement for the show, it's getting better, and last night I LAUGHED OUT LOUD at least three times during the show, as guest Megan Mullalley played a manipulative ex-wife with an agenda, up against Amy Pohler's rigidly comic Leslie Knope. COMMUNITY is newer, but has leapt forward over the past few weeks as Joel McHale's character has subtly evolved into what the central character on a sitcom needs to be--the anchor and observer, rather than the looney comic instigator. And last night, finally, I found myself LAUGHING OUT LOUD at Chevy Chase, who has taken over 20 years to re-find his comic pulse. And then there's THE OFFICE, which has sustained a high comic sheen throughout its six-year run, and in which John Krasinski has turned his character of "Jim" into a work of art. Steve Carrell, also, is brilliant on a weekly basis, as is the raucous cast of supporting characters. I hope the producers and writers can find a way to bring back the incredible Amy Ryan for a week or two or three as Carrell's love interest. Rarely has a guest spot in a television show been so perfectly filled. And 30 ROCK, if you're out of your mind (in a good way) rarely fails to hit for extra bases. Many times last night I LAUGHED OUT LOUD, especially when Alec Baldwin's Jack Donaghy not-so-subtly did promos for the network (touting NBC's Winter Olympic coverage as he dumped on it) and for an Internet conferencing service. I even ALMOST LAUGHED OUT LOUD at Tracy Morgan last night, and, for me, that's an accomplishment.
Okay, so I live alone and nobody here in my apartment hears me LAUGHING OUT LOUD.
Maybe Ma does, though.
That'd be nice.
NBC as a network, if you follow the showbiz news, is not performing all that well. Matters not a whit, because NBC provides us with Thursday nights from 8 until 10 and some excellent comedy. True, it has taken COMMUNITY and PARKS AND RECREATION time to settle in. P&R, in fact, is now in its second year and is just finding its comic legs. But, though it may be too late as network brass are probably already looking for a replacement for the show, it's getting better, and last night I LAUGHED OUT LOUD at least three times during the show, as guest Megan Mullalley played a manipulative ex-wife with an agenda, up against Amy Pohler's rigidly comic Leslie Knope. COMMUNITY is newer, but has leapt forward over the past few weeks as Joel McHale's character has subtly evolved into what the central character on a sitcom needs to be--the anchor and observer, rather than the looney comic instigator. And last night, finally, I found myself LAUGHING OUT LOUD at Chevy Chase, who has taken over 20 years to re-find his comic pulse. And then there's THE OFFICE, which has sustained a high comic sheen throughout its six-year run, and in which John Krasinski has turned his character of "Jim" into a work of art. Steve Carrell, also, is brilliant on a weekly basis, as is the raucous cast of supporting characters. I hope the producers and writers can find a way to bring back the incredible Amy Ryan for a week or two or three as Carrell's love interest. Rarely has a guest spot in a television show been so perfectly filled. And 30 ROCK, if you're out of your mind (in a good way) rarely fails to hit for extra bases. Many times last night I LAUGHED OUT LOUD, especially when Alec Baldwin's Jack Donaghy not-so-subtly did promos for the network (touting NBC's Winter Olympic coverage as he dumped on it) and for an Internet conferencing service. I even ALMOST LAUGHED OUT LOUD at Tracy Morgan last night, and, for me, that's an accomplishment.
Okay, so I live alone and nobody here in my apartment hears me LAUGHING OUT LOUD.
Maybe Ma does, though.
That'd be nice.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Now It Can Be Winter
Okay, it's November 5 and the World Series is over. Whew. Theeeeee Yankees win. Let me just say that if the sixth game had gone 50 innings and Pedro Martinez pitched the entire game, Matsui would have gone 23 for 25, with two hard-hit line drives for outs. Hideki owns Pedro.
It is gray and cold and the air is dead outside. I have located my shovel. I am ready.
I am heading down to New York a week from yesterday to meet with the actress Judith Ivey about my play, THE PORCH. Ms. Ivey, a two-time Tony winner, was given the script by Sheriden Thomas, an actor who played "Gert" so well in the Stoneham Theatre production last year. Judy (this is how she signs her emails) liked it, and we've been in email contact for a few months. She is currently starring at the Cherry Lane in New York in THE LADY WITH ALL THE ANSWERS, a one-woman show about the advice columnist Ann Landers. Then, I believe, she is taking her "Amanda" from her recent Long Wharf THE GLASS MENAGERIE to the Roundabout. She is one busy actor. So I feel very lucky and honored to get this chance to talk with her about my play.
In the meantime, I'm juggling 94 projects in various stages of development, none of them making me any dough. Couple of plays, a screenplay, a TV pilot. All speculative. All difficult. All---what I do.
Learned recently that my adaptation of THE TURN OF THE SCREW is going to be published by Playscripts in New York. Very happy about this. I think the play works very well--it certainly did when we staged it at New Century--and it's a title not seen too often in theatres, perhaps because there aren't that many adaptations of it available.
Well, in about six months, mine will be.
Along about the time the 2010 baseball season starts.
Winter will be over then.
It is gray and cold and the air is dead outside. I have located my shovel. I am ready.
I am heading down to New York a week from yesterday to meet with the actress Judith Ivey about my play, THE PORCH. Ms. Ivey, a two-time Tony winner, was given the script by Sheriden Thomas, an actor who played "Gert" so well in the Stoneham Theatre production last year. Judy (this is how she signs her emails) liked it, and we've been in email contact for a few months. She is currently starring at the Cherry Lane in New York in THE LADY WITH ALL THE ANSWERS, a one-woman show about the advice columnist Ann Landers. Then, I believe, she is taking her "Amanda" from her recent Long Wharf THE GLASS MENAGERIE to the Roundabout. She is one busy actor. So I feel very lucky and honored to get this chance to talk with her about my play.
In the meantime, I'm juggling 94 projects in various stages of development, none of them making me any dough. Couple of plays, a screenplay, a TV pilot. All speculative. All difficult. All---what I do.
Learned recently that my adaptation of THE TURN OF THE SCREW is going to be published by Playscripts in New York. Very happy about this. I think the play works very well--it certainly did when we staged it at New Century--and it's a title not seen too often in theatres, perhaps because there aren't that many adaptations of it available.
Well, in about six months, mine will be.
Along about the time the 2010 baseball season starts.
Winter will be over then.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Pedro
It's November 4, and the World Series still isn't over. This is not right. I'm not sure why this has happened--perhaps the World Baseball Classic nudged the beginning of the season by a few days--but it's not right. Baseball needs to be over before Halloween.
And yet, Pedro Martinez, that grand showman, takes the mound tonight for the Phillies against his Daddies, the New York Yankees. It's almost worth TiVoing. With so much at stake, and with the potential for such pressure on the Bombers tomorrow if they lose tonight, there is NO WAY they lose tonight. Seems like a reverse-reverse lock to me. The reverse lock would be the Yankees losing, because they are so highly favored. So in order for Pedro and the Phillies to lose, the reverse lock needs to be reversed. And that's where I think we are.
The only real hope for the evening is that Pedro goes six or seven and keeps the Phils in the game. Maybe they pull it out, maybe they don't. But Pedro needs to leave the game with face. He will put on face, regardless of the outcome. He always does. And when he steps before the microphones after the game, he will be more articulate and quotable and funny than maybe 95% of his fellow players.
So the stage is set (in that most stage-is-settable of cities) for high drama tonight. However, with the reverse-reverse lock in effect, it'll probably just be a Yankee blowout and we can get back to preparing for Thanksgiving and watching football as we should be doing at this time of year.
But with Pedro, there's always the "You Never Know" factor.
He's Baseball's Captain Show Biz.
And yet, Pedro Martinez, that grand showman, takes the mound tonight for the Phillies against his Daddies, the New York Yankees. It's almost worth TiVoing. With so much at stake, and with the potential for such pressure on the Bombers tomorrow if they lose tonight, there is NO WAY they lose tonight. Seems like a reverse-reverse lock to me. The reverse lock would be the Yankees losing, because they are so highly favored. So in order for Pedro and the Phillies to lose, the reverse lock needs to be reversed. And that's where I think we are.
The only real hope for the evening is that Pedro goes six or seven and keeps the Phils in the game. Maybe they pull it out, maybe they don't. But Pedro needs to leave the game with face. He will put on face, regardless of the outcome. He always does. And when he steps before the microphones after the game, he will be more articulate and quotable and funny than maybe 95% of his fellow players.
So the stage is set (in that most stage-is-settable of cities) for high drama tonight. However, with the reverse-reverse lock in effect, it'll probably just be a Yankee blowout and we can get back to preparing for Thanksgiving and watching football as we should be doing at this time of year.
But with Pedro, there's always the "You Never Know" factor.
He's Baseball's Captain Show Biz.
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