'Kumiko The Treasure Hunter' A Review

Kumiko The Treasure Hunter is an independent drama based on urban legend. Kumiko(Rinko Kikuchi) is a struggling 29 year old in Tokyo. She is stuck in a mindless office job with a gross boss, she is friendless, and her mother constantly berates her for not succeeding in work and romance. Her only pleasure is in caring for her pet rabbit Bonzo and combing through a grainy VHS copy of Fargo for clues as to where Steve Buscemi's character buried his briefcase full of money, believing the film to be fact rather than fiction. After work complications she sets off to the US to track down the treasure.

Despite a good lead performance from Kikuchi the film is incomplete. After a long and languid set up in Tokyo by the time Kumiko actually gets to the US the story can't recover. It's unclear what the message or intent of the film is, there are elements of magical realism, fish-out-of-water comedy, and introspective drama however nothing is cohesive. The tone is muddled. The theme confused. And the ending although incredibly bleak isn't terribly effective. The film hasn't done the basic work of making us care about anyone  or anything in it.

Beautifully shot, well acted, woefully deficient script and plotting.

Don't See It.

Grass, Greener

if you are thin I want you big,
if you are round I want you flat,
if you are free I want you needy,
if you are private I want you open,
if you are gracious I want you curt,
if you are giving I want you distant,
on and on
into bitterness.

What capricious fools we humans be.

Goodbye Brian

The most recent in a long list of departures, Brian leaves Chicago this week. We were never very close which I regret but I watched him perform so much over the past couple years he was part of my weekly routine. The one show I see almost every week is Holy Fuck Comedy Hour and Brian was one of my favorites in that show. Always 100% committed and with the most fully formed concepts he was always compelling. He was also one of the funnest to take pictures of because he is so expressive.

I learned a lot from watching him specifically repetition, mispronunciation, and calculated anger. Repeating lines or phrases is an effective way to heighten, let the audience in, and get laughs. For whatever reason deliberately mispronouncing words is sometimes more potent than a well crafted punchline. Unjustified or hair-trigger anger can be a pitfall of new improvisers but when its calculated, when it is set in contrast to something absurd or jovial it can be used to devastating comedic returns.

I have every confidence in Brian's success as he leaves Chicago, I'll miss him still.

Phil's Last Olio

Olio is a show Phil has produced for the past year and some change, first at the Upstairs Gallery then at the Annoyance. Each Olio contains 4 to 5 original 5 minute plays written and rehearsed the week proceeding the show, after the plays all the characters do an improv set. It has been one of my favorite shows to see and be in.

The show has been a great opportunity and inspiration for people to write and act, two things people in the improv community rarely do but can actually do rather well. It's always an eclectic mix of genres and perspectives. Risks are always taken and the show, week to week, is exciting and fresh.

Last night was Phil's last before he moves to NYC. It was a fun one. Danny's play with Eleanor, Jo, and Sarah as identical, monotone, working-men ordering food in a cafeteria was especially hilarious and bizarre. Phil created a show that offered not only a lot of opportunity but variety too. A show where many people could get involved and experiment. Shows like that, and more importantly people like Phil, are in short supply.

'Seymour: An Introduction' A Review

Seymour: An Introduction is a documentary about classical pianist Seymour Bernstein. The film gives a brief overview of his life- childhood, his time in the Korean War, his career as a concert pianist, his change in career from performer to teacher at age 50- but focuses mostly on his music, his views on creativity, and his overall life philosophy.

The title is apt in that the film is brief and the portrait of Bernstein is cursory. Watching the film we don't get to know Bernstein but that may not be a failing of the film but a simple function of Bernstein himself. Living in a small one bedroom apartment, the scope of his day to day life could be described as spartan. He teaches, he composes, he sleeps on a fold-out couch.

The most compelling moments are when Bernstein interacts with students and former students. When we see him instruct we get a clear sense of the scope and dimension of music, the dedication and skill it requires. When he reminisces we get a sense of his impact. Bernstein also offers some interesting thoughts on commercializing art, craft vs. talent, discipline, and creative output.

Some cogent ideas for artistic types, may not offer much for those more left brained.

Rent It.

On the quiet before sleep when thoughts bubble up from the dark

Often,
I lie awake.
Waiting for sleep.
And in this time of restful limbo
the past emerges from the shadows
and presents itself for my inspection.
Not in a haunting way,
although it can be haunting.

Faces and situations march by
slow and deliberate.
Sometimes regret
drags the corners of my mouth
and furrows my brow.
Or shame
heats up my cheeks,
flushed in the safety of my covers.

But successes too.
Former childhood adventures,
bygone romantic pleasures,
and bested erstwhile aggressors
bring a comfort
to my comforter cocoon.
And after replaying
all the miles and years-
I sleep.

Books On Tape

Growing up I had a hard time with reading. Until I was ten and a teacher forced me to read I had an abysmal reading level verging on the non-existent. When I found myself in a class that required reading, which I could no longer successfully fake, I supplemented my laborious attempts at reading with books on tape. I discovered a rich and textured world of story. Complex voices that brought compelling tales to life. And with a narrator I found books less solitary, comforting in fact. I fell in love.

While playing video games, riding my bike, mowing the lawn, building Legos, and playing with action figures I'd listen to books on tape. As I got older my love for them didn't diminish, when I got my license I'd listen to them whenever I was in my car. I became a proficient and voracious reader but never lost my fondness for a well narrated story or the escape it offered when doing something mundane.

The past couple years I've fallen out of the habit of listening to books on tape(never "audiobooks"). I tried Audible for a couple months but found it expensive and inconvenient. At work I'm able to listen to podcasts to help pass the time but it seems there's never enough content to get me through my monotonous workload. Last week while searching youtube for author interviews I stumbled upon a book on tape only to discover there are tons of them on there. Since then I've listened to Neverwhere and Ender's Game. It's made the work day so much more tolerable, I forgot how transportive a book on tape could be. Now bogged down by the drudgery of insurance I can escape, float away, on the melodic and varied tones of story. Thrust into hidden and fantastic worlds, free from the chains of deductibles, policies, and limits of liability.

Graffiti 155

Another band ad masquerading as graffiti. Still a playful name and image though.

"Fun is good." -Dr. Seuss

"Just play. Have fun. Enjoy the game." -Michael Jordan

"Children are smarter than any of us. Know how I know that? I don't know one child with a full time job and children." -Bill Hicks

"Play is often talked about as if it were a relief from serious learning. But for children play is serious learning. Play is really the work of childhood." -Fred Rogers

Quenchers

Last June Brunlieb asked me to do a reading at the show his team Sand hosts- Spitballin' at Quenchers Saloon. He said it could be anything- a scene from a play, a short story, poetry, whatever. I rarely get asked to do things so I'm always very flattered and excited when it happens. That first time Chloe and I read the first scene from Whose Afraid Of Virginia Wolfe? and it seemed to be received well.

I've been going once a month since to read poems and short essays that I've written. I found the environment and the show really inspiring, it made me realize my writing could have a place on stage, could be performed. Previous to Quenchers I hadn't even thought of reading any of my stuff in front of people. For the most part the audience response has been good, I get some valuable feedback on what people respond to and what they don't, what jokes hit and what don't, how I can shape a piece to be more effective. It's very fulfilling to present my writing to a crowd that, though not always warm, is always open. The show has motivated me to write more, to take risks, to go dark and be vulnerable, has given me ideas that without it I wouldn't have had. Because of the satisfaction I've gotten from doing readings at Quenchers I've done a couple readings else where, something I previously wouldn't have had the courage to do.

Monday night at Quenchers is an experimental and fertile creative space. Sure, sometimes there's mediocre improv or someone practicing their SNL tight five, but mostly it's interesting performers trying new and different things. All thanks to the bad boys of Sand.

'It Follows' A Review

It Follows is a supernatural horror film about a curse that is passed by sexual intercourse. The curse manifests itself in the form of a creature that slowly walks straight towards the individual cursed and if caught they are killed, the curse then reverts to the previous person that had it. In an unnamed suburb of Detroit in an unknown time Jay(Maika Monroe) hangs out with her sister and friends before going out on a date. She has sex with her boyfriend for the first time only to be drugged by him and tied to a wheelchair. He explains he has passed on a curse to her and that the only way to get rid of it is to have sex with someone. The remainder of the film Jay, her sister, and her friends attempt to deal with the homicidal spirit.

The cinematography is lush and colorfully hypnotic. The score a slow and pulsing synth. The performances all natural and striking especially Monroe in the lead. The supernatural conceit, a murderous ghost slowly and deliberately moving straight for its victim, terrifyingly effective.

The film seems to attempt to function as some kind of teen sex parable however the message, if there is one, is unclear and unrealized. The narrative while certainly entertaining and scary enough lacks a sense of completion or cohesion. It is only two acts of a three act film. There are some interesting ideas that are brought up but discarded as the story plods along to its mediocre conclusion.

It Follows has received a lot of hyperbolic praise, in truth its not as playful as The Guest or as richly complex as The Babadook. It shows promise and ambition but taken as a whole it is unsatisfying.

Rent It.

Balance & Time

Relationships are work, they require nurturing, like a garden. As time passes you get comfortable with each other, you establish routines, and you, to a certain degree, come to take your partner for granted. These aren't necessarily bad things but with long term relationships there is a danger of complacency, of predictability, of your relationship losing some importance. These things can create distance and stagnation. If you are not making some kind of progress- emotional, spiritual, professional, familial or otherwise- however incremental, you're not giving your relationship the attention it needs to move forward. 

Nicole and I spent the day together, went out to dinner and then to a movie with some friends. It was a great day. The past couple months have been a bit hectic for us, some changes, some obstacles, and busy schedules. We had to be diligent about carving out time for each other, to do stuff, to talk about stuff, to stay connected. It can be difficult, can take some effort, but ultimately we put the time and energy into our relationship and each other because its worth it. The companionship, the comfort, the fun, the excitement, the discovery, it all eclipses any upkeep required.

Balancing work, friendships, a relationship, and passions can be difficult. Finding time for each can be a struggle. But it pays dividends to put energy into those areas of your life that truly have meaning, to prioritize, to communicate, and cultivate those things that bring you joy.

Contention: Closing

After four and a half months and twelve shows Contention closed tonight. Phil, Sarah, and I went out for a bite afterwards and I snapped this picture of them looking satisfied after their nachos and grilled cheese respectively.

The play was a real passion project for me. I conceived of the idea last summer from an improv show. An exploration of a relationship using a non-linear structure. Jumping back and forth through time to try to hit on some universal themes and examine why some relationships don't work. The reality of the show totally exceeded my expectations.

Sarah and Phil were incredible collaborators. We wrote the show through a process of improvisation, transcription, and editing. It felt very equal, all of us contributing and shaping. It taught me a lot about how successful and satisfying a show can be when there's a common understanding and a clarity of purpose. Phil as a director is calm, kind, and focused. Always gently pushing towards the ultimate goal, with an eye on adding and cultivating those small details and moments that elevated the show. Sarah is an amazing actress- natural, committed, and effortlessly compelling. Even when we would run lines she would invest so much feeling, not even trying, it would get me keyed into the story we were about to tell. She brought an honesty and immediacy every time we shared the stage that I was truly inspired by.

A lot of friends came out and for that I am very very thankful. It means a lot to work hard on something and to have people come out and see it. I'm also incredibly thankful to The Annoyance for putting up the show. They were so gracious and helpful through the entire process, I was stunned by how much they take care of and appreciate their performers.

Contention was the first time I was able to execute my artistic vision without any compromises or questions of exterior or managerial ownership. To have an idea translated so purely to the stage. We got a lot of great feedback, it seemed people were affected and could identify with a lot of the themes and situations, the fact that the shows message was successful, above and beyond its narrative viability, was very gratifying.

I wanted to write a play about relationships. I wanted the play to have an engaging story. I wanted the story to have a point. I think we did all those things. I am very proud of the show and so grateful for Phil and Sarah.

The Grid Plan

A net of streets, splayed out
like the dice roll
of some drunken god.
Who knew destiny
was writ in concrete,
dog shit,
and the butts of cigarettes smoked so lovingly.

'Duke Of Burgundy' A Review

The Duke Of Burgundy is a romantic drama about two women in a BDSM relationship set in a nebulous time in a rural scholastic community populated by women. At first it appears Evelyn(Chiara D'Anna) is the somewhat inept maid for the older, demanding, and severe Cynthia(Sidse Babett Knudsen) but it quickly becomes clear they are engaged in a dominant/submissive sexual relationship. Cynthia although the technical dominant is relatively unsure and reluctant while Evelyn the overt submissive is incredibly demanding and particular and seems almost incapable of expressing conventional affection. The film unfolds with repetitions of their rituals, abstract sequences of moths and butterflies, and the mounting inequality of their relationship.

The film is visually striking, saturated and luscious. The score, for the most part, a modern stripped down series of tones punctuating the odd power dynamics and emotional shifts. Although the metaphor is relatively indecipherable the parade of images of both dead and living winged insects is compelling, creating an other worldly feeling that harmonizes with the more grounded intense relationship at the films center.

It is unclear where or when Cynthia and Evelyn are. What weird all female society solely interested in Lepidoptera they inhabit. The chronology of the film is also nebulous. But within all the rich ambiguity there is a beautiful love story. More of a series of sensations and an experience than a narrative.

Challenging, moody, and almost alien.

See It.

Spring Shearing

After work today I went to Molly's to get a haircut. I don't get to see her as often anymore because she no longer works during Schwa. We caught up, gossiped a bit, and she gave me a great cut.

I really enjoy getting my haircut, the act of it is very relaxing and comforting. It's also satisfying to have such a tangible result. Over the course of half an hour your appearance is changed. There's a concrete sense of progress, of moving forward.

With the rusted gears of spring beginning to turn it was time to cut those shaggy curls infused with the apathy of winter. Freshly shorn I'm prepared to face the coming warmth- rejuvenated, free, and unencumbered.

Graffiti 154

The image is goofy and weird but probably because of the sword it got me thinking about Ghost Dog and samurai. Some excerpts narrated in the movie from Hagakure.

"The Way of the Samurai is found in death. Meditation on inevitable death should be performed daily. Every day when one's body and mind are at peace, one should meditate upon being ripped apart by arrows, rifles, spears and swords, being carried away by surging waves, being thrown into the midst of a great fire, being struck by lightning, being shaken to death by a great earthquake, falling from thousand-foot cliffs, dying of disease or committing seppuku at the death of one's master. And every day without fail one should consider himself as dead. This is the substance of the way of the samurai."

"Even if one's head were to be suddenly cut off, he should be able to do one more action with certainty. With martial valor, if one becomes like a revengeful ghost and shows great determination, though his head is cut off, he should not die."

"There is something to be learned from a rainstorm. When meeting with a sudden shower, you try not to get wet and run quickly along the road. But doing such things as passing under the eaves of houses, you still get wet. When you are resolved from the beginning, you will not be perplexed, though you still get the same soaking. This understanding extends to all things."

"The Way of the Samurai is one of immediacy, and it is best to dash in headlong."

-Yamamoto Tsunetomo

Schwa+

Tonight we had a couple former members play with Deep Schwa- Tim, Joe, and Neil. There were eleven of us which can be cumbersome but the show was fast paced and balanced, Schwa is the only team I've played on that can do great shows with large numbers. The chemistry was pretty seamless with the old and new members, Joe comes back about once a month and Neil two or three times a year so there's a nice level of familiarity there. It was Tim's first time playing since I've been on the team and he was great, really playful. I hope he enjoyed himself enough to come back. We all had a blast and the audience seemed really into it too.

It's always exciting and fun to have people back, it shakes us out of our patterns, injects some energy. Raises the stakes. Playing with people I use to watch and revere is a real pleasure and honor. It reminds me that for the longest time playing with Deep Schwa was my dream and I get to live it.

'Maps To The Stars' A Review

Maps To The Stars is a dark satirical drama about a group of corrupt tinsel town denizens. Havana(Julianne Moore) the petulant, pill-popping, aging starlet, Agatha(Mia Wasikowska) the diluted possibly unstable Floridian drawn by the allure of Hollywood, Stafford(John Cusack) the manipulative pop self-help guru, and Benjie(Evan Bird) the entitled, demanding, churlish child star are some of the despicable characters that inhabit this sickly, surreal, incestuous version of sunny LA. At first all the individuals navigate their own isolated stories but we come to find that they are all connected.

The tone of the film is difficult and a little dangerous, like many of Cronenberg's films it is bizarre and at times unwieldy. There are ghosts, most of the characters are so selfish and sordid they are unlikable, and many of the behaviors and situations range from inconsiderate to the grotesque. It is extremely dark yet funny, periodically violent yet absurd, melodramatic yet terrifying and fleetingly heartbreaking. A no-holds-barred attack on Hollywood that shows only despair and self-obsession with sharp edges. There is absolutely no redemption. The film is not for the faint of heart. It is horrific and perverse to various degrees of hilarity and disgust.

All the actors provide 100% commitment with delightfully slimy and disturbing results. Moore especially gives an incredibly brave performance as the shallow, base, image-obsessed actress. All her scenes are unsettlingly memorable but the funniest finds her on the toilet while questioning her assistant about her sex life. Cusack puts in his most dynamic performance in over a decade- sinister, calculating, and totally engaged- it's great to see him back in a film with some teeth.

Maps To The Stars is funny, spectacularly acted, and incredibly fucked up. An interpersonal Hollywood horror show not an amusing industry spoof.

See It.

Pink Cloud

In recovery 'pink cloud' is a somewhat negative term used to describe the state of myopic euphoria some people experience right after getting sober. Everything is sunshine, rainbows, and pubescent positivity. High on life and so enamored with their new found change a person newly sober can be disconnected from reality, making them vulnerable to their duplicitous addiction. It can also lead to proselytizing unsupported by experience or knowledge, sometimes a desire to spread the news of their temperance before it has a chance to solidify.

I was on my own pink cloud when I first got out of rehab. Everything seemed new and fascinating. The sun so warm and comforting, food so flavorful and fulfilling, my bed so luxurious, my apartment so spacious. After such a cosmic shift the mundane world seemed electric and fraught with possibility.

This mind set can be a danger, leaving those newly sober naive or over confident, but on the whole I think the pink cloud is something to strive toward. To see the world with freshness every day, to let the small irritating minutia of life fall from you like rain, to relish and appreciate all the small pleasures and simple triumphs we take for granted.

Every day is a gift. Every loved one a blessing. Life itself a privilege.

D.Bainbridge

I was ill prepared
for your boxing challenge.
I prepped
by eating fajitas
and drinking
sugary margaritas.
Filled with confidence,
youth, and no skill
whatsoever.
When signing the barman's waiver
you declined headgear
naively I followed suit.
Despite my advantage
of height, weight, reach,
and an inflated
sense of justice
I was out matched.
Your only target
was my head
which your arms
like pistons
pummeled.
The fight's duration
was one minute
twelve seconds.
You kicked my ass.
I cried uncle
before the first round bell
had even rung.
My friends swept me
up and out.
On the street
I puked.
As if to crystallize my defeat.

Sometimes
I'll think of flying to New York City
with a pair of boxing gloves.
To find you. Dan.
And demand a rematch.

Del Awards 2015

Tonight was iO's annual award show, the first in the new space. The theme this year was superheroes,  lots of people dressed up but Craig wore his hotdog costume and I just put on a bandanna. As always it was a fun night. This year was the third and final time The Late 90's hosted and they, as usual, did a great job. There are always funny parts, some heartfelt words, and a couple pointed jabs but I think the best part is simply getting a large portion of the people that play at iO in the same room at the same time.

Some highlights were Scott hosting as Improv Two-Face, Nate's acceptance rant for Most Likely To Go Blue, all the Best Team videos, Brunlieb and Katie winning Most Supportive, and Dave winning improviser of the year. It's really great when those people that do a lot of great work and don't make a fuss about it get recognized. It was also just really nice to have the Del's in a theater that could accommodate the number of people that were there.

The best part of the show for me was being able to sit with Craig and watch the whole thing, on Clark street the place was so crowded and there was so many people coming and going it was difficult to simply watch the show with a friend. We could relax, laugh, and whisper jokes to each other.

This year was a little less edgy and exciting that in previous years but given this past year was fraught with so much change for iO and the Chicago comedy in general I think that was all for the good.

A Parable About Connection

Long ago men were shapeshifters.
They could change from bear to wolf to hawk back to man.
They could hunt the plains and ride the winds with their animal brethren.
But there was danger.
The longer a man stayed in the form of an animal, the more of himself he lost.
If he wore the shape of an animal for too long, that is what he became.

There once was a boy who liked taking the form of a bear.
He had few friends.
His parents were often away.
He felt most comfortable in the company of animals.
Or alone.
He would spend long afternoons napping in caves.
Long evenings pacing the quiet forest floor.
Long mornings patiently fishing the river with his large paws.
One winter he got tired of the village and its people.
He took his bear form and hibernated with his bear friends.
Safe and warm in their den.
When spring came the bears awoke and they were hungry.
They knew he was a boy, they smelled it, and tried to eat him.
He fled.
He roamed the forest hungry and disoriented.
Eventually he came to a bush sprouting unripe berries.
He began to eat, the bitterness outdistanced by his hunger.
Suddenly there was yelling and the barking of dogs.
He was surrounded by hunters from his village brandishing spears.
Slowly and painfully he shed his bear skin exposing the boy he was.
The hunters returned him to the village where his parents were glad to see him.
Time passed and the boy became a man.
He made friends and started a family.
But inside the bear always lingered.
And he never truly felt a part of the village.

Graffiti 153

Quite A Mob appears to be a Chicago band. The word 'mob' caught my eye, an interesting concept to think on given the increase of people out-and-about due to the nice weather.

"A mob is not, as is so often said, mindless. A mob is single-minded." -Teju Cole

"Solitude is strength; to depend on the presence of the crowd is weakness. The man who needs a mob to nerve him is much more alone than he imagines." -Paul Brunton

"Human beings either function as individuals or as members of a pack. There's a switch inside us, deep in our spirit, that you can turn one way or the other. It's almost always the case that our worst behavior comes out when we're switched to the mob setting." -Jaron Lanier

An Early Spring 2

The cold has lifted from the windy city. A tentative thaw, bringing those secrets hidden by snow to light. Change sweeps through the city, still dull and lethargic, unbelieving of such premature warmth. What gracious luck!

People crowd the streets. Pent-up and wild-eyed. The caged energies of winter spilling out onto sidewalks and into dusty beer gardens. Manic bodies, flaying limbs, and loud brash honking mouths. Impulses lumbering out of hibernation. What freedom there is in spring, unshackled from the freeze!

I enjoy the sun but fear the sudden shift. Finding anxiety tangled with my pleasure. Unaccustomed to the speed of spring I am bewildered by all the color and activity.

After the comfortable isolation of the winter months the rapid spring acceleration has caught me flat-footed and sent me reeling. I find myself nostalgic for the huddled disconnection of the cold. What glories await in the capricious spring? What dangers? What elusive mysteries? Who can say!

The future stretches out long and uncertain. Slumbering creatures stir to wakefulness.

'Chappie' A Review

Chappie is a science fiction action movie about a sentient robot. In the not-too-distant future the city of Johannesburg has employed humanoid peacekeeping robots to augment its police force and combat high crime rates. The droids, dubbed 'Scouts', are a resounding success for the city and the company that manufactures them Tetravaal. The programmer behind the Scout robot however is obsessed with pushing the technology further. Against the directive of the CEO he covertly gives a damaged Scout robot consciousness. Unfortunately this coincides with his kidnapping by a group of gangsters hard up for cash who commandeer the recently aware robot for assistance in perpetrating crimes. They dub him Chappie.

Other than the odd yet compelling motion-capture performance by Sharlto Copley as the titular Chappie the majority of the acting is relatively thin. Dev Patel struggles as Deon the computer programmer who grants Chappie life, chugging Red Bulls and telegraphing his obsession. Hugh Jackman comes on full force as the heavy with a mullet, grimacing, maniacally laughing, and stomping around. Sigourney Weaver as the weapons company CEO is so checked out it's almost as if she's not in the movie at all. Some of the failings are certainly a result of a clunky and meandering script devoid of motivation. South African rap duo Die Antwoord, Ninja and Yolandi, as the gangsters who foster Chappie strike an incredibly discordant and bizarre note with the rest of the movie. Their performances more like a prolonged commercial for their music and brand rather than anything resembling character. That said Yolandi is somewhat affecting as a mother figure to Chappie whereas Ninja is totally unbelievable as anything.

Chappie, although entertaining enough, is severely narratively challenged. Big ideas are introduced and not developed, story arcs are begun but not completed, characters are given potential but remain undeveloped. The movie feels more like a sloppy first draft than anything resembling a final product. The same exact issue writer/director Neill Blomkamp had with his sophomore disappointment Elysium.

Themes with no message, characters with no depth, cool robot stuff.

Rent It.

Nothing Left Unsaid

I got some sad news yesterday, a long time family friend passed away after an extended illness. It was rather shocking, I had just seen this gentleman a couple weeks ago and he seemed in good health and high spirits. It's sad. A great loss.

Life is a precious thing. Something we can easily take for granted and forget how precarious it can be. Not only illness and age but random happenstance can take it without warning. I don't mean to be paranoid or morbid quite the contrary. It is a good reminder to enjoy the life we have, to relish even the smallest things that bring us joy. To be grateful for our time and our loved ones.

As my father has gotten older he has become more concerned with mortality, which is probably normal for a man in his 60's. When we talk he'll occasionally say things like "I won't be around forever" which I of course unilaterally reject. Not because it is a thought I cannot fathom or fear to deal with but because no good can come from dwelling on it. We all owe a death. That is something I came to know with certainty back in my drinking days. Death waits for us all. Knowing that, how do you choose to live?

Aside from his more direct morbid comments my father in his later years has been more open. More honest, more emotional. Making sure almost every time we speak to communicate his pride, support, and love. Sentiments which I return.

I learned the lesson from him backed up by countless iterations in books and movies- leave nothing left unsaid. Because you never know. Keeping things to yourself, being closed off and isolated leads to regrets and resentments. Love is a two way street. You share it.

I try to tell my friends and family I love them whenever I can. Even friends who, at times, I may not be close enough with where it is altogether natural. Because I don't want to have not said it, I don't want there to be any doubt about what my feelings are. No regrets, no unknowns. Only warm words and articulated affections.

Time and Tide

I find the waxing and waning of the moon comforting. The rising and setting of the sun. The blustery breath of the wind. The cold, the dark of deep night. Those large looming cosmic things implicit in our day-to-day.

If there are forces governing those things massive and monumental it's possible there's equal influence guiding the small and inconsequential. Everyone on an orbit, gliding through space and time.

The Grind

the alarm
the commute
the cigarette and coffee

the cubicle
the computer
the daily task assignments

the monotony
the distractions
the nearly constant boredom

the hope
the assurance
the future holds excitment

A Fine Actor Presents: Classics

Tonight as part of Upstairs at the Annoyance I participated in A Fine Actor Presents: Classics the second production produced by Scott as his alter ego world-weary devoted-thespian S. Charles Nelson. A follow up to his show last summer Closing Night: A Fine Actor Says Farewell To A Theater. The conceit was S. Charles was in town as part of the closing of the long running musical he directed Hot Dogs For Sale. Inspired by the musical's classic status S. Charles put together an evening of scenes from classic(fictitious) plays performed by his favorite actors. The range of scenes spanned from present day works to as far back as the Greeks. There was a scene from the modern PLOP!(a la Stomp), the contemporary interpersonal drama Camden, On His Birthday, the controversial and confrontational underground 80's piece *edit (blank), the 70's women-in-the-work-place comedy Dorrie Keebler, to name a few. The night concluded with the final scene from the Greek tragedy Tenticlese.

Again, Scott constructed a great night of theater, both as a comedic send up and genuine celebration. A series of scenes making fun of theater genres and tropes while simultaneously doing original compelling versions of those genres and tropes. Scott is able to do something incredibly unique, incorporate a lot of people and elements to weave together something really special. Its a show that puts a lot of pressure on him to make it work and he's the kind of person who thrives under that kind of stress. A rare and indelible performer.

I reprised my role as S. Charles's long-standing admiring/antagonistic theater critic. I wrote a short piece on the classics, the glories of live theater, and the perversion of television. An excerpt below.

"This is a night of theater. An honoring of those classic works that have touched us, enlightened us, and stayed with us. This evening you will be moved. Before I discourse on what makes a work of art a ‘classic’ some words on our gracious and versatile leading man S. Charles Nelson.

It is no secret I have been following his work for years. An actor, a working actor, concerned with the craft and affecting lives rather than commercialized debasement. An actor who has consistently given us reinvention, transformation, and exaltation.

Some time ago I was at a remount of Waiting For Godot produced and reimagined by our S. Charles. I was skeptical to say the least, what does this tired french work have that remains to excite the modern mind? Does it still have breath? Does it still have soul? I needn't have doubted. For lo minutes into the first act Mr. Nelson appeared as the titular Godot, a feat here-to-fore no actor had the tenacity to undertake. It was a truly courageous piece of art to personify one of theater’s most famous unseen characters. And with his portrayal he cut through the plays residual existential mystery putting to rest the lingering 20th century post-modern obsession with asking the broad and bleak question “why?” That night S. Charles Nelson gave us an answer."

A Disturbing Dream 16

I am in an empty, blank, high-ceilinged conference room.

It is after work hours and there's no one around. I'm waiting for something.

The lights are off. There is a faint gloom coming through the windows from the sun which is almost completely set.

Everything is grey and bleak.

I look up. My grandmother's disembodied head is floating in the corner. Ghostly not gory.

She is not looking at me, seemingly cannot see me. I try to call out to her but my throat is dry and stuck.

She is praying. All I hear is a faint "...oh Lord...dear God..."

I am certain she is praying for me. I grab hold of my mind and drag myself away.

I wake up in my room but I know it is not my room. I am still caught. The huddled form next to me should be Nicole but I know that if I draw back the covers it will be some dark and shadowed thing. I lay down and close my eyes willing consciousness.

The beeps and grind of the garbage truck awaken me. I am relieved but cannot shake the residual foreboding.

More Goodbyes

This weekend Chicago lost two more to sunny LA- Tyler and Felske. Two people I'd only really gotten to know well in the last year or so, two people I was consistently inspired by. It's a big loss for the community, two incredibly talented people each with drive and discipline that manifested in a substantial creative output. I'll miss watching them perform, their specific curated projects especially. I'll miss Tyler's open southern charm and his pointed perspective on the work. I'll miss Felske's dry wit, her enthusiasm, and sitting next to her during shows both of us reveling in it when it was good and rolling our eyes at each other when it was bad.

But the greater loss for me is losing two driven writers. Two people who unabashedly identify first and foremost as writers, two people that backed up that assertion with actual output. There are a lot of people in the improv community that talk about writing, that have ideas for plays or stories, that want to write, but few who actually do it and do it consistently. As such there are not many people that can really talk about writing, what it takes to bring an ephemeral thought to the concrete page, the frustration and satisfaction that comes from doing that type of solitary creative work. In this respect I'll miss two people I could relate to in a very unique way.

Good-luck and good-bye to two performers I love watching and two writers I respect.