On the thresholds

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Because commencement, which means beginning, is also the ceremony at the end of college, the word has a curious duality that puts a yin-yang spin on this symbolic threshold between adolescence and adulthood.

Amelia Rose Blaire

In writer-director Steve Albrezzi's Commencement, which screens at the 2014 Newport Beach Film Festival on April 26 (click for info), Christa, a flawless Amelia Rose Blaire, is the graduating senior whose story drives the film. With her rite-of-passage as both catalyst and cover, threshold events ripple through the lives of all the major characters, reminding us that change is the currency of life regardless of age.

The storytelling bears its own duality. The excellent cast's performances and Joe Pennella's cinematography create a world of realism as detailed as Renaissance portraiture. At the same time, Albrezzi's writing creates fully realized and recognizable characters with the minimal strokes of an impressionist.

The film begins just after Christa's commencement ceremony at a university in upstate California. Unfortunately, some things do not make it through the threshold with her: her belongings are stolen from her packed car while the boyfriend she adores opts out of her future with a curt "Let's take a break."

Things only get worse on the drive down the 5 the next day. The broken-into car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. She reaches her parents, Gillian (Marin Hinkle) and Nate (Arye Gross), by cellphone while they are decorating the house and garden for that evening's big Congratulations Christa Party. While sorting out options with dad, she is joined by a motorcyclist stranger who stops to check her fuming engine.

Rick Gonzalez, Blaire

Though Javier's (Rick Gonzalez) kindness is initially rejected by her, Christa will accept a ride home on his bike while his uncle repairs the car. The wall of suspicion she sets between them dissolves during the ride back to Los Angeles, and their parting on her porch suggests there could have been a connection. But, he heads home as she heads in to help.

On his ride back to Central California, he hears her phone ringing in his bike's saddlebag and is soon goin' south.

The various stories within the story will gently unfold. The crossroads that Gillian and Nate face, both as a couple and as individuals, references the economic crossroads America was facing in 2012 when the film was made. Gillian's mother, Jennifer (Jennifer Warren), and Nate's father, Peter (Alan Rachins), are also wrestling with life changes. All these stories are rich, believable, and woven smoothly into the overarching story of Christa's post-Commencement commencement.

Albrezzi, a member of the directing faculty at USC School of Cinematic Arts, has roots in American theater, which deepens his work as he draws on lengthy associations with many of these actors. Blaire, who since filming Commencement gained fame on TV's "True Blood," and Gonzalez have a performance maturity that helps ground the storytelling from the first frame. Plot twists that in less-talented hands might choke the film's flow and stick out as too convenient or unlikely, with Blaire and Gonzalez arouse no more suspicion than a neighbor's home movie.

Arye Gross, Blaire

Film and TV veterans Hinkle and Gross are also busy stage actors. Their work is routinely lauded in Theatertimes, including one play, Our Mother's Brief Affair, in which they appeared as brother and sister. Another local stage actor who appears as Gillian's friend Rosalie is Joan Almedilla, who starred in 2012's Tea, with Music, reviewed here.

Commencement is also a threshold event for Albrezzi, whom I met nearly 30 years ago when we were approaching that grandest of transitions, parenthood. We would soon have only-child daughters, who became childhood friends, and were around the age of only-child Christa when Albrezzi began his script. That this film, despite being made on a shoestring, never compromises – whether it's in storytelling, performance, or production – adds to its strength of purpose. Films from the heart, like this one, that honestly capture one individual's experience, can resonate for the rest of us as we navigate through countless thresholds of change. It's likely that, like me, you'll find a change of heart has occurred as you pass through the theater exit and head home.

Sisters are doing it for themselves

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by Cristofer Gross | Friday, September 9, 1983 was the first day of my first full season as a theater publicist. The 1983-84 Season at Orange County's South Coast Repertory began that evening with the first preview of Peter Shaffer's Amadeus, with Ron Boussom as Mozart and Dan Kern as Salieri.

It was also the first day – period – for Zoe Kazan, whose Trudy and Max in Love is currently making its bow at SCR. The future screenwriter/playwright/actress was born that very day just up the road in Los Angeles, to playwright Robin Swicord and screenwriter Nicholas Kazan.

Having left SCR at the end of 2004, I return occasionally to review for Theatertimes.org, and was back last week for a review of Trudy and Max.

One of the enjoyable aspects of Lila Neugebauer's staging of Trudy and Max is its musical cues and references. I especially loved Trudy's choice of a recent Edward Sharpe tune. But it was a song that came out around Kazan's second birthday that popped into my head when I read the production credits: "Sisters Are Doing it For Themselves" by Aretha Franklin and Annie Lennox.

Although it likely has happened before at a major theater, this marked a landmark in my theater going: aside from lighting designer Lap Chi Chu, the entire "production vertical" for Trudy and Max is made up of women.

While the excellent cast of Aya Cash, Celeste Den, Tate Ellington, and Michael Weston is necessarily outside this headcount, the design, production, and administrative team behind Trudy, Max, Zoe, and Lila lines up like this: Laura Jellinek (set), Melanie Watnick (costumes), Cricket S. Myers (sound), Kimberly Colburn (dramaturg), Jackie S. Hill (production manager), and Kathryn Davies (stage manager). And the list goes on with casting by Joanne DeNaut and her assistant Stephanie Marick, public relations by Tania Thompson and Madeline Porter, graphic design by Crystal Woolard, program coordination by Heather Van Holt, production photography by Deborah Robinson, front of house management by Stephanie Draude and the oversight of longtime Managing Director Paula Tomei and General Manager Lori Monnier.

The men behind the scenes, veterans like Artistic Director Marc Masterson, Associate Artistic Director John Glore, Marketing Director Bil Schroeder, and Production Manager Josh Marchesi, who oversee the various departments, must also appreciate the serendipity of so much distaff staffing. Back on that night of firsts in 1983, when the houselights dimmed for Salieri's first speech and the maternity ward lights rose for baby Zoe's first cries, only four of SCR's 136 previous productions were plays by women: Ann Jellicoe, Shelagh Delaney, Elizabeth Diggs, and Terri Wagoner. While women writers remain woefully under-represented on American stages, this creditable collaboration is my salute to the alma mater on its 50th Season, which features productions of plays by Carla Ching and Amy Herzog in addition to Kazan.

Cue Annie and the Queen of Soul.

---

Photo of Zoe Kazan and Lila Neugebauer at opening night of Trudy and Max in Love by Deborah Robinson

Progressing with McCoy Tyner

The power surge music provides was on display last Friday in the Segerstrom Center for the Arts' Samueli Theater.

Pianist McCoy Tyner, in for four weekend concerts with his trio (bassist Gerald Cannon and drummer Francisco Mela) and guest saxophonist Joe Lovano, carefully followed his band mates up the bandstand steps. In classic fashion he faced the audience, left hand on piano, and gingerly acknowledged their welcome with several shallow bows.

He then lowered his thin frame, 75 years old on Wednesday, with an aide making sure the piano bench did not move.

When Tyner launched into the first of the six-song, 75-minute set, the tentative movements were gone. The fiery, firm-fingered intensity that brought him to national attention half a century ago flamed anew. In 1960, Tyner joined saxophonist John Coltrane in one of the most important quartets in jazz history. He was on hand for several of those landmark albums including A Love Supreme. The march of time may have left its mark on Tyner the man, but Tyner the musician played with the same energy he had back in his 20s in Philadelphia.

While the opening number suffered some mixing issues, they resolved for the second song: Duke Ellington's "In a Mellow Tone," a title that Lovano's rich tenor timbre captures as well as any past or present player. Lovano has made his own mark, one the New York Times' Thomas Staudter validated when he quoted Times music critic Ben Ratliff in a 2001 story, "It's fair to say that he's one of the greatest musicians in jazz history."

The soloing grew stronger as the sound operator found the right balance and by the third number, Tyner's "Walk Spirit, Talk Spirit," the group was flying high. Here, Lovano's exceptionalism was clear as he dug deep through the familiar progression for a soaring, visceral solo.

The fourth tune was more reflective, and the band members shared the spotlight in turns, with bassist Cannon and drummer Mela consistently providing inventive and engaging moments in their solos.

The fifth song was "Blues on the Corner," and then Tyner satisfied the standing ovation demand for an encore with a quiet solo piece.

Cannon and Mela have been accompanying Tyner regularly, joined by saxophonist Lovano, Gary Bartz, or Ravi Coltrane. Their time together showed off. Lovano, who has frequently played with Tyner since 1999 [read our interview with Joe] worked extensively with Mela in his ensemble quintet Us Five.

After a solo encore by the pianist on "I Should Care," the aide returned to help. Once Tyner introduced him as his son, he took advantage of the moment to tell the audience of his father's recently birthday, at which the standing crowd gleefully broke into "Happy Birthday, McCoy."

With childlike playfulness, Tyner acknowledged the song with a big-eyed lie, "I'm just 21." But, in retrospect, that's really a half truth. While chronologically he just turned 75, musically he's timeless.


Photo: McCoy Tyner, Gerald Cannon, Joe Lovano, and Francisco Mela in a previous outing, photographed by Sébastien Grébille

Love at first fight

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Can Jenn Lyon and Douglas Sills give John Guare and the La Jolla Playhouse
A 'His Girl Friday' to remember? by Cristofer Gross


In 2003, Britain's National Theatre asked playwright John Guare to create a new stage comedy by 'marrying' the 1940 film His Girl Friday with the 1928 play that had inspired it.

"It was Nick Hytner’s first season [and] he asked if I’d consider taking The Front Page and His Girl Friday and marrying them," Guare said in a 2011 interview.

Guare thought it "an absolutely fascinating proposition," but with only three months between securing rights and starting rehearsals, he was forced to hurry and felt the script didn’t work. Generally, critics agreed with him.

A decade of revisions and revivals later, Guare’s adaptation, also called His Girl Friday, opens the La Jolla Playhouse’s 2013 Season on June 2 under Artistic Director Christopher Ashley's direction.

Casting a giant shadow over His Girl Friday the play have been the stars of His Girl Friday the film. Cary Grant was hitting his stride with a devilishly debonair persona that gave his characters disarming weaponry for winning hearts. It was co-star Rosalind Russell's second big show, after Little Women, and again showed off her perfect blend of independence and susceptibility. Her onscreen chemistry with Grant was real, and, after meeting for this project, they remained lifelong friends.

While Guare has had plenty of fine pairings populating his play, Ashley's leads, Jenn Lyon and Douglas Sills, just may take Guare's vision from modest success to unforgettable event. Both actors have demonstrated deftness in both drama and comedy, with the intuition to mix them perfectly to sound a play's deeper resonances while delivering its big laughs.

On the other hand, in terms of their chemistry, they had never met or seen the other's work.

The road to La Jolla

The film of His Girl Friday began as another straight remake of Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur's Broadway hit, which had already been adapted to the screen in 1931. In the men's-club atmosphere of a criminal court press room, the hours count down to the next morning's execution of a man convicted of murder. Newspaper reporter Hildy Johnson arrives to say farewell to the fellas before he quits the business to get married. His Machiavellian editor Walter Burns, however, manipulates him into an eleventh hour investigation of the conviction, which ends up exposing corrupt judges and politicians.

Director Howard Hawkes was having trouble casting the remake and one day, with only a "Walter" to audition, had his female secretary read Hildy's part. Hawkes heard something, and had Charles Lederer turn the play's man-to-man combat into the film's battle of the sexes. Hildebrand was now Hildegard, and to add spice, she and Walter were former spouses who had continued to work together after divorcing four years earlier.

The testosterone-fueled power plays of The Front Page now felt more like the playful sparring of Much Ado About Nothing. The sex change would also land His Girl Friday on the top ten list of "Comedies of Remarriage," a genre coined by philosopher Stanley Cavell. The "remarriage comedy" allowed courting couples to navigate towards the altar spouting the intimacies and innuendoes otherwise impossible for pre-marital pairings, and unacceptable to the censoring Hays Office. Not surprisingly, Grant's special charm got him cast in half those top ten titles, including The Philadelphia Story, also released in 1940.

Sills and Lyon

Lyon is perhaps best known for her role opposite TImothy Olyphant in the FX Series "Justified." But she had already won Southern California theatergoers' hearts for four roles at South Coast Repertory, including the period comedy Born Yesterday and a show-stealing turn in Noises Off [review].

When Sills, the charismatic, Tony-nominated star of Broadway's Scarlet Pimpernel and Gomez in the recent national tour of The Addams Family, first saw her, she was into her second week of rehearsals. Due to a death in the family, he had been forced to arrive after the others.
Sills had helped give the same SCR one of its most popular productions as an irresistible Benedict opposite Nike Doukas in Much Ado, after playing the Grant role of C.K. Dexter Haven in its earlier Philadelphia Story. He got his first look at Lyon already in character as someone she calls "the smartest one in the room and unapologetically so."

Could a behind-the-scenes battle-of-the-sexes be in store for Ashley and company? Was this to be La Jolla's private, backstage sequel, with Lyon getting a week's head start under her belt?

Far from being put off, Sills was immediately on board.

"I arrived to find this tremendous powerhouse of a leading lady just knocking it out of the park already," Sills told me a week later. "She's just incredibly facile, and smart, and beautiful, and comedic.

"And, as in a relay race," he continued, "you want to run your lap very well, because when she hands you the baton, she has set the bar very high."

On the distaff side, the feelings were mutual.

"Just being in rehearsal with him I can barely keep a straight face," Lyon said in a separate interview. Clearly Sills' powers were still sharp. "I am so honored and delighted everyday to have the opportunity to share a stage with him. If I can be his match, I will be so happy. Can you tell I'm shamelessly in love? It's embarrassing."

The better halves

Lyon said she has loved the film since she was a little girl, and watched it again when she heard she was up for the part.

"I've always been a fan of screwball comedy because of the pace and the fact that the women run the show and are a match comedically to the men they play against," she said.

Like Lyon's character on "Justified," a show that relies strongly on powerful women, Hildy balances her relationships with her self-respect.

"She wants to be able to have what the men have but still be valued as a woman who is compassionate and kind. But in her world there has been no way to do that," Lyon said.

"In terms of strong women characters, she has it all in spades and as opposed to many women that I've played, she doesn't lead with her sexuality. It's in her arsenal but she rarely uses it. Her feminine wiles are housed more in her facility with language, her capacity for empathy, and her ability to multitask. She swings for the fences on every at bat and that's so thrilling to play."

Donald Sage Mackay, who plays Bruce Baldwin, Hildy's new fiancé and the main brunt of Burns' chicanery, was also impressed by Lyon.

"Working with Jenn in rehearsal is like watching a young Lucille Ball at work: an absolutely brilliant comedienne who comes to rehearsal an hour before anyone else. She's so incredible that you can't even remember Rosalind Russell in the role and yet, at the same time, she is honoring and channeling all of the great actresses like Hepburn and Myrna Loy that came before her."

For his part, Sills sees Burns as "a character who doesn't pander to the audience. He's not there to be liked. So he has some unattractive characteristics, which are in opposition to that indescribable, innate charm that draws people to him. That can't help but make the heart – or the molten lava – of the story more attractive and more magnetic. We're rooting for the two of them to find each other again. That's what the story's about, basically."

If anyone can give Burns that quality, it's Sills. Night after night in Much Ado, his connection with the audience seemed to make each viewer react as if directly engaged by him. With catlike dexterity, he straddled the fourth wall rather than broke it, with audience members occasionally uttering unconsciously in response.

"Douglas is so dynamic and believable in period plays because he completely inhabits the style, the way people spoke, the elegance of movement, but he's never without emotional truth," Doukas, his Much Ado co-star, told me. "When you share the stage with him you can count on him being there with you. And he is always trying new things to keep the moments alive."

"I think I do have an awareness of the audience, concurrent with the performance, and not outside of it," Sills said. "It definitely isn't static. It varies."

If anyone can forecast whether the chemistry between these two will crackle or fizzle, it's SCR Founding Artist Richard Doyle, who has worked with both: Lyon in Born Yesterday and Sills in Philadelphia Story.

"Both are gifted, generous pros," he said. "I'd say Doug tends to wear his characters like well-fitting Armani, tailored to his many strengths. I think of Jenn as slightly more mercurial, creating a well thought-out structure and fully inhabiting that character. They are both large personalities, and in any story they tell, their personas will occupy some of the same space as their character."

That bodes well for La Jolla's title rematch of this famous battle of wits, for another shot at the remarriage of Hildy and Walter, and for Guare's vision of marrying The Front Page and His Girl Friday.

His Girl Friday begins previews today, opens June 2 and continues through June 30.

Also in the cast are Patrick Kerr (Earl), George McDaniel (Mayor), Matt McGrath (Bensinger), Mary Beth Peil (Mrs. Baldwin), Bill Christ (Woodenshoes), William Hill (Sheriff), Bethany Anne Lind (Molly Malloy) Dion Mucciacito (Diamond Louie), Jonathan McMurtry (Reverend), Steve Gunderson, Kevin Koppman-Gue, Evan D’Angeles, Dale Morris, James Saba and Mike Sears, and MFA students Michael Hammond, Chaz Hodges, Gerard Joseph and Ronald Washington.

On closing day of the production Theatertimes ran its review.

Photos (top to bottom): Grant and Russell, Lyon and Timothy Olyphant in "Justified," Nike Doukas with Sills in "Much Ado About Nothing" (2001) [Photo by author], and Sills and Lyon in the current production with George McDaniel, Gerard Joseph, and Ronald Washington [photo by Kevin Berne].

No small parts

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The Brothers Arkin get swallowed by 'whales' • by Cristofer Gross

Larger-than-life characters, from Achilles and Lysistrata to FDR and Harriett Tubman, are literature's meat-and-potatoes. How the everyman reaches greatness, or how the mighty fall, fuels both inspirational stories and cautionary tales that share what it means to be human. In Herman Melville's Moby Dick, it's not the beast that brings us back but the outsized obsession of Captain Ahab.

Oversized characters, on the other hand, are a harder fit. Whether in theater, literature, film, or TV, once a body crosses the 600-lb mark, as the Duke put it, "they don't get around much anymore." As a result it's very rare to have one of these tragic figures rise in the ranks of fiction. John Kennedy Toole added one in his 1980 novel, Confederacy of Dunces, and won a posthumous Pulitzer for his efforts. But we're still waiting for someone to get around to getting his slothful sleuth, Ignatius J. Reilly, up on the screen.

Anyone who has leafed through the Guinness Book for Records has likely stopped at the sad story of Robert Hughes, the one-time "World's Heaviest Human," who died at 32 weighing half a ton. He was buried in a coffin the size of a piano case.

In the past decade, these cases have inspired two fictional characters. A decade ago, in the first season of the long-running television mystery "Monk," we met Dale "the Whale" Beiderbeck, an 800-pound, bed-bound financial wizard prone to crime. This weekend, we meet Charlie, the central character in Playwright Samuel D. Hunter's The Whale, opening at South Coast Repertory and running through the end of the month.

By strange coincidence, the 2002 TV whale and the 2013 theater whale are played by brothers Adam and Matthew Arkin, respectively.

Adam, 56, was first to notice what surely qualifies for its own page in the record book.

"I didn't even think about the coincidence until Adam mentioned it to me," said Matthew, who turns 53 next week. "I actually never caught that episode of 'Monk.' I knew he had played that character, but I didn't really know much about it."

"I expect that our experiences in the process have been drastically different," he added. "Because of the innate differences between doing something like that for film, where you can cut, take care of problems, and so on, and the challenges of doing it on stage, where the illusion has to last, and logistical problems have to be solved, with no possibility of a break."

Both Arkins, sons of actor Alan, are veterans of stage and film. Adam preceded his brother at SCR, starring in the premiere of Donald Margulies' Brooklyn Boy, and returning for the readings of Richard Greenberg's Our Mother's Brief Affair and Steven Drukman's The Prince of Atlantis, in which Matthew played his brother. Matthew, who was in the New York cast of Margulies' Dinner with Friends when it won the Pulitzer Prize, made his SCR debut in the full production of Brief Affair, [review] and went on to co-star in Prince [review] with John Kapelos.

Either would be quick to point out that the stage, with its preference for promoting use of the imagination, is less fond than film of elaborate makeup and prosthetic devices to create character. However, when the physical condition is either the cause, or manifestation, of one's behavior, the drama demands it be front and center. And so, the younger Arkin is embarking on an eight-show-a-week regimen of serious weight-gain. To do it, SCR brought in Kevin Haney, an expert whose collaboration on makeup for Driving Miss Daisy earned him the Academy Award in 1990.

Haney's Broadway work includes turning Bernadette Peters into a witch and Robert Westenberg into a wolf for Into the Woods, turning Robert Morse into Harry Truman for Tru, and helping with Mandy Patinkin's nightly sex-change for David Hare's obscure musical The Knife. He agrees that stage and cinema are different animals.

"Film is a series of moments often shot out of context of the whole," he said. "There is usually time to touch up the makeup to make sure it looks good for that shot. Theater is a whole slice of time. We can't walk on stage and do a touch up, so it has to be glued in really well." Regarding the costume portion of the transformation, he credits SCR's Costume Department for doing "an amazing job creating a lightweight but realistic fat suit – one of the best I have encountered. We are using new techniques, to have the bulk built up with a reinforced, extremely lightweight and soft cast polyfoam, similar to what I used on the Wolf makeup in 1989, combined with a reinforced silicone skin." The costume and make up takes an hour and a half to put on, and another hour to remove. Add in the two-hour run time and that's four hours in which Arkin cannot use the men's room – assuming he gets through the door.

"First the neck and facial prosthetic is applied to my face with adhesive," he explained. "The edges have to be meticulously glued down and then blended carefully around my eyes with makeup. Additional tiny wig pieces are applied around the edges of my goatee, my sideburns and the nape of the neck to cover the sides of the pieces. When that is done, it is time to put on the suit.

"The first layer is a baseball player's athletic support with a cup, so that the straps of the suit don't cause damage to sensitive parts. Then a thermal undershirt and a cotton onesie to prevent the ice packs that are worn to keep me from overheating from having the opposite effect and giving me ice burns. Those are the layers that can be washed between each show, and it's a good thing, 'cause even with the cooling system, I'm pretty soaked with sweat by the end.

"Over the onesie goes a neoprene vest with two huge pockets front and back to hold the ice packs. Then the bottom half of the suit goes on, and is stretched tight and hooked into a series of fasteners on the vest to stop it from sagging. It is so heavy that, throughout the show, I have to resist it pulling me down into a crouch. Then I put on neoprene cuffs, which also contain ice packs for my wrists, and the top half, which also stretches and is fastened to the vest to keep it from riding up when I sit. That adds to the crouch effect. All of these layers are fairly tight as well, so that they don't shift around too much, but it makes normal breathing a conscious effort. The neck line of the top half then has to be tucked carefully under the neck line of the prosthetic, and then I can get into my sweat pants, shaking the various layers down and tucking them in. Then I put on the shirt, two pairs of socks, and my slippers. All done: Piece of cake."

Of course, then it's time for the real work to begin, and Arkin waddles on stage to act. While we can debate whether there are any small parts for actors, there are relatively few like those assumed Adam and Matthew Arkin.


A review of the production was posted on March 21, 2013.


The Whale opens March 15 and runs through March 31. Martin Benson directs Arkin, Jennifer Christopher, Wyatt Fenner, Blake Lindsley, Helen Sadler Tickets and info.


Photos: Top, Matthew with co-star Jennifer Christopher (credit: Ben Horak); middle and bottom, Adam in "Monk."

Birds-Eye View

Two veteran flight attendants and boosters of San Diego's Old Globe
Recall the 'high-flying days that inspired the comedy 'Boeing Boeing'
by Cristofer Gross

Wikipedia has a list of 36 occurrences of “Flight Attendants in Pop-Culture.” The first is Marc Camoletti’s Boeing-Boeing.

In the 1960s, when a stewardess appeared in a play or film, it was shorthand for a single, attractive woman with even odds to be spending the night in a hotel. Even Stephen Sondheim, in his breakout 1970 musical, Company, gave Bobby-baby a stewardess girlfriend. As Joanne Gordan observes in Stephen Sondheim: A Casebook, the "conquest of a ‘stewardess’ is, for audiences who would remember the era, a depiction of a particularly ‘60s kind of fantasy – the suave bachelor seducing a hot ‘stew.’"

Two women who spent the era inside a United Airlines stewardess uniform are Globe Guilders Nancy Brock and Randy Tidmore.

Both trained in Chicago and eventually ended their stewardess careers flying out of Los Angeles. Iowan Tidmore flew for United Airlines from 1947 to 1962, but also worked in the office during the last half of those years. She became a supervisor, handling hiring, customer complaints and inquiries from the media. Brock flew for 35 years, many of them between LA and Honolulu, beginning in 1955.

When they started, stewardesses (they still stumble on the term "flight attendant") had to weigh in, keep their hair short, and remain unmarried.

"They had to be 21 by the time they went on the line," said Tidmore. "They had to wear hose, and the seams had to be straight, and wear girdles and high heels all the time. They had to be ladies. If any received three complaints from passengers, they were out."

There was an upside, though.

"We used to be celebrities," Brock said. "We were looked up to. There weren’t very many of us – or many airplanes either. I can remember sitting at the coffee shop in Chicago and having Ed Sullivan, who was sitting at the horseshoe counter, pay for our breakfast. People did that. Women passengers came on with their heels, hats and gloves, and men always wore a suit. The whole atmosphere was first class and we were treated that way, too."

"You couldn’t be married, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have an affair with a pilot," Tidmore smiled.

"A lot of my friends were married, but I didn’t know it. One couple – a pilot and stewardess – were married and nobody knew it. They lived in the same apartment building. She lived downstairs and he lived upstairs, with a telephone he could hear from downstairs."

"Newspapers used to interview me about what stewardesses did," she continued. "’Tell us some stories,’ they would say. ‘Are the stewardesses marrying passengers? Are they going out with passengers on every trip?’ Absolutely not! I’d tell them. Our girls don’t do that, you know. And they didn’t. They were not marrying any more than non-flight attendants."

All that started changing around the time the play is set, with the advances in jets, and unionization.

"When the unions came in, the airline couldn’t say how we wore our hair, or make us wear a girdle or high heels," said Tidmore.

"That’s true," agreed Brock.

"Although it was still pretty strict. We were still under weight controls. I was still getting weighed in during the 1970s, long after the unions became involved."

The public image of flight attendants changed, they feel, to something closer to service personnel than celebrities. But, they both feel the profession is finally getting more respect.

"I think the public does think they are service people," Brock said. "But I think that, more and more since 9/11 and events like the recent landing in the Hudson River, people realize that in-flight people also have a safety responsibility and we’re there to save lives. The perception has gone back up."

Both remain active in "Clipped Wings," a social organization for flight attendants that they co-chaired four years ago. The name recalls the days when, "if you got married, your wings were clipped," Brock said.

This blog post is one of three program notes written by Cristofer Gross for the 2009 Old Globe production of Marc Camoletti's Boeing-Boeing. Used with permission.

The apple of his eye

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The boy, legs dangling, made his wooden restaurant chair seem an impossibly large throne, while beside him, in a rumbling sleep, the very large man made his seat appear small and fragile.

There was a half-empty cup of coffee in front of the slumbering adult, and a few coins of change on a tray beside it.

In front of the boy was a small plate where a slice of pie had once stood. He now was mashing the butt of his fork into the few remaining crumbs, then raising it over his upturned mouth and shaking them loose.

A waitress, not old and not young, knew that the longer she ignored them and let them sit there, the longer they could stay out of the swirling snowstorm that had brushed over Baltimore.

She also knew this meant delaying another paying customer, which she desperately needed. Yet something about the boy – the way he seemed to understand that his vulnerability served as protection for the man – gave him an air of maturity.

The waitress watched them over her order pad as she listened to an old couple engage in their nightly debate over what to eat. After signaling they were ready to order they had asked to hear the specials again, then huddled together to weigh the respective merits of chicken fried steak amd pan-seared trout. She was familiar with the performance and knew she did not have to listen. They worked their way through the benefits of each, the option of sharing, then thought about something on the regular menu that they hadn't tried, and then agreed to, again, "avoid the fats, deny the flavor." With a sigh of resignation, the wife said we’ll split the chef salad and each have a vanilla milk shake. Thank you, dear.

Until she heard Thank you, dear, the waitress had been watching the boy to see how he looked at the man. Even a fleeting glance, a fraction of a peek, she felt would reveal the nature of their relationship. The eyes carry so much, she thought as the couple negotiated before her. A droplet of eye contact could condense volumes of meaning about the relationship between these strangers. Understanding. Love. Fear. Indifference. Were they father and son? Unrelated? A kidnapper and his strange, consenting ward? Was the boy concerned for the older fellow? Was he ill, dying, so tired he couldn’t stay awake – not that the diner's diluted coffee could perk anyone up. Were they there to meet someone who was late?

But he never looked over. He revealed no emotion towards the man. Maybe it was just that he was tired of their plight, of finding new restaurants in which to have a treat before going out and eating whatever they could scrounge. Although they weren’t dirty or disheveled, there was a lived in feeling about their clothes and their silence was that of those who spend every moment of every day together.

"Thank you, dear."

There it was. She looked down at her pad, wrote “chef, splt; van. shakes.” And went to the kitchen to place the order.

When she returned to the dining room it was to take orders of hamburgers and fries tp a happy young family in another section, setting three plates onto place mats covered with their crayon drawings of clowns flying kites. When she turned around, the man and boy were gone. She quickly moved to their table, where through the large diner window she saw their dark forms walking into the blowing snow. Above them in the distance, a glowing red circle indicated a traffic light. And as the swirling white enveloped them, without either a word or look between them, the red glow turned green as the boy slipped his tiny gloved hand into the man’s freezing bare fist.

THE BELLS ARE RINGING

'Tis the single ticket season

The willful suspensions of both our beliefs and our budgeting concerns are what make the holidays a time of wonder – and mystery!

Theaters from Burbank to Balboa Park are doing their part to add magic to the season with special single-ticket productions. Actors and playwrights are telling stories about the transformative powers of love, forgiveness, and, in more than one case, a well-stocked liquor trolley.

Dominating the landscape are adaptations of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, from the faithfully followed to the irreverent and fun-filled. They range from a Second City world premiere to a modern-day update starring Fred Willard to one that turns L.A's first Water Czar William Mulholland into Scrooge!
But there are lots of laughs for the whole family. Our daft Troubies are back with a rock-infused retelling of Rudolph's tale, helpless "Bob" has scheduled another hapless Holiday Office Party, the Pasadena Playhouse mounts a glittering Snow White adaptation, Capra's Wonderful Life gives Clarence his angel wings, and two of our favorite grounded angels – Crissy Guerrero and Claudia Dolph – pour their saucy cabaret at Hollywood Studio Bar and Grill.

Here's a quick overview complete with links, dates, and addresses. Got a review, endorsement, or addition – email us and Theatertimes will post.

A Christmas Carol: Twist Your Dickens!

Kirk Douglas Theatre
9820 Washington Blvd., Culver City

Culver City's Cultural Citadel is world preeming Second City's take on A Christmas Carol: Twist Your Dickens! The famed improv-comedy troupe collaborates with CTG to ratchet up the traditional tale. A "host of anachronistic characters and hilarious improvs" will strip the script from Scrooge, kick the Cratchit crutch, and blow the dust off those spirits of present, past, and future. And if that weren't enough to start you slouching toward bedlam, the regular cast (including voice-of-Homer Dan Castellaneta) will be joined by an ever-changing stable of starry, drop-in special guests." Holy shit! You'll have to go every day! Guided by past and present spirits of "The Colbert Report" writing team, Peter Gwinn and Bobby Mort, irrespectively.

Run: 11/29-12/30 (Previews begin 11/24)

Tickets and information: 213-628-2772 or online.

A Mulholland Christmas Carol

Theatre of NOTE
1517 N. Cahuenga Blvd., Hollywood
Best known for inspiring Chinatown's Hollis Mulwray – and least known as the namesake of my middling Middle School – L.A.'s powerful first Water & Power chief William H. Mulholland rises from the run-off channels and storm drains that are his legacy for A Mulholland Christmas Carol. Now in its 10th year, the Bill Robens script turns WHM into a Scrooge for a water-hungry basin at war with Owens Valley and adds harmonies, history, humor, and "an acoustical, bluegrass take on the music."
Run: 11/30-12/23 (Previews begin 11/27) Thurs-Sat 8 p.m., Sun 7 p.m.; 12/24 2 p.m.
Tickets $30 (Students, seniors $25)
Tickets and information: 323-856-8611 or online.

Jacob Marley's Christmas Carol

SIX01 Studio
601 S. Anderson Street, Downtown Los Angeles
Tom Mula's four-actor version of Dickens' classic takes Marley's point-of-view. Scrooge's business partner, whose death is confirmed in the book's opening line, must take an active role in seeing that his friend redeems his soul, or he will be damned to the hellish eternity where he has been cast –made worse by an officious hell-sprite "who thoroughly enjoys his work,"
Run: 12/14-29 (Previews begin 11/30Thu, Fri & Sat at 8 p.m.; Sun at 3 p.m.)
Tickets: $34 ($20 previews)
Tickets and information: 800-838-3006 or online.

A Really, Really Good Time, Holly Jolly Christmas Carol

Grove Theatre (Upland)
276 E. 9th Street Upland
A new, modern-day version of Dickens' tale casts the lovable Fred Willard as the director of the United States Superstar Show. And, with days to its Christmas Eve opening, it needs a miracle. Naturally, all the blame goes to the cast and crew, especially right hand man Bobby Cratchit. Scrooge's rants end when the ghost of Johnny Carson arrives to launch him on a holiday journey that will make him a better man.
Tickets and information: 909-920-4343 or online

A Christmas Carol

Grove Theater Center
1111-b West Olive Ave., Burbank
David Allen Jones, Frank Simons, and Kate Danley guide audiences through the story - sometimes as narrators, sometimes as storytellers, and sometimes as characters – in the Grove Theater Center's original adaptation.
Run: 11/30-12/16 (Previews begin 11/28 Thu, Fri & Sat at 8 p.m.; Sun at 3 p.m.)
Tickets: $15 - $30 (Previews $10)
Tickets and information: 818-528-6622 or online

A Christmas Carol

A Noise Within
3352 East Foothill Blvd, Pasadena
A Noise Within has flirted with Dickens' holy-holiday grail for several years, producing an excellent Oliver Twist and then Great Expectations. Now they go whole gosling with their own adaptation of the grand Christmas prize. Adapted and directed by co-founders Geoff and Julia Rodriguez Elliott, it stars Geoff as Eb, Robertson Dean as the narrator, and Stephen Rockwell, Jill Hill, Mitchell Edmonds, Deborah Strang, and Alan Blumenfeld in key roles. A "Fezziwig's Festive Holiday Tea" fundraiser will be held December 16 at noon, turtle-dovetailing into admission to the matinee performance.
Run: 12/8-23 (Previews begin 12/1)
Tickets: $40 - $52 (Discounts for groups and students)
Tickets and information: 626-356-3100 or online

A Christmas Carol

South Coast Repertory
655 Town Center Drive, Costa Mesa
The granddaddy of regional Christmas Carols is this Orange County mainstay, now plowing into its fourth decade. In fact, it's tireless Scrooge, Hal Landon Jr. began his run in 1981 childless and is now himself a granddaddy! It's a sumptuous feast of period costumes, whirling set changes, and a finale of redemption sure to replace a miser's last lump of coal with a lump in his throat.
Run: 11/30-12/24, previews begin 11/24
Ticket prices $20-63, with discounts for children and groups
Tickets and information: 714-708-5555 or online.

The Grinch Who Stole Christmas

The Old Globe
1363 Old Globe Way, in San Diego’s Balboa Park
The Old Globe has its own tradition based on the classic by the late, but longtime La Jolla resident, Theodore (Dr. Seuss) Geisel. This is the 15th Annual How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the Balboa Parkers, who again transform their mainstage into the snow-covered Whoville – right down to the last can of Who-hash. Familiar songs include "Santa for a Day," "You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch," and "Welcome, Christmas (Fah Who Doraze), " from the popular animated version.
Run: 11/23-12/30 (Previews begin 11/17)
Ticket prices start at $37 for adults and $24 for children (17 years and under).
Tickets and information: 619-23-GLOBE or online.

Rudolph The Red-Nosed Rein-DOORS

Troubadour Theater Company
Falcon Theatre, 4252 Riverside Dr., in Burbank
Plenty of rockers have created great theater – from Little Richard to Peter Gabriel to the Great Lizardo himself, Jim Morrison. But few theaters have returned the favor the way the Troubies do. Their musical chops are surpassed only by their acting skills and disdain for fourth walls. Of their several seasonal stagings, they have chosen to remount Rudolph The Red-nosed Rein-DOORS, in which the bands catalogue creates strange days indeed for Santa. Sure to sell out, so get stirring!
Run: 12/7-1/6/13, Previews 11/28 (Wed-Sat at 8 p.m., Sun at 4 p.m.)
Tickets $34.50-42; Previews $29.50-$32; Opening night $52-57 (Student, group discounts)
Tickets and information: 818-955-8101 or online.

Footprints in the Snow / Dark Carols

Bootleg Theater
2220 Beverly Blvd., Los Angeles
A couple of presents: Dark Carols, A song cycle from Philip Litell and Peter Golub and Footprints In The Snow from Golub and the Amphigorey of Edward Gorey. Two from the darker side of the season start spreading the cheer November 28 through December 8 only – Black Thursdays through Black Saturdays.
Run: 11/29-12/8 (Thurs–Sat 7:30 p.m.)
Ticket prices $15 for adults and $24 for children (17 years and under).
Tickets and information: 213-389-3856 or online.

Bob's Holiday Office Party

The Pico Playhouse Theater
10508 W. Pico Blvd., Los Angeles
Co-writers Joe Keyes and Rob Elk provide a peek at insurance agent Bob Finhead and his whacked-out friends and clients as they stop by his small-town Iowa office for their annual holiday – and head– bashing. The town mayor, the sheriff, the twin farmer sisters, the stoner, the town floozy, and the pastor's wife have already RSVP'd for this year's event. But Bob has dreams of a bigger life and wants to escape their narrow-minded thinking. Will he be able to fulfill his dream of becoming a professional inventor and move to the big city, or will he come to realize how much he is the heart and soul of the town?
Run:12/6-22 (Thurs-Sat 8 p.m.; Sun 7 p.m.)
Tickets $20-25
Tickets and information: 800-838-3006 or online.

The Eight: Reindeer Monologues

Chance Theatre
5552 E. La Palma Ave., Anaheim Hills
Get "backstage" at Santa's famous toy-making facility, where it's not all tinsel and cookies. The reindeer are revolting, and shedding angst along with their antlers as they set the record straight about Santa. "When a doe says 'No,' she means 'No Way, Sucka!'"
Run: 11/26–12/22 (Mon-Wed 8 p.m. Fri-Sat 11 p.m.)
Tickets $22-35 (Student, Senior and group discounts
Tickets and information: 714-777-3033 or online.

Santaland Diaries

Blank Theatre
Stella Adler Theatre, 6773 Hollywood Blvd.
Blank Theatre brings back David Sedaris' The Santaland Diaries for its 4th year, starring Paolo Andino under Michael Matthews' direction. NPR’s humorist wrote the one-man show about his experiences as an unemployed writer who takes a job as a Christmas elf at Macy’s in New York City. At first, the job is simply humiliating, but once thousands of visitors start pouring through Santa's workshop, David (or, as his alter ego is known, Crumpet the Elf) becomes battle weary and bitter, occasionally taking out his frustrations on the parents and children alike.
Run: Now running. (Thurs-Sat 8 p.m.; Sun 2 p.m.)
Tickets $30
Tickets and information: 323-661-9827 or online.

A Snow White Christmas

Pasadena Playhouse
39 South El Molino Avenue, Pasadena
Ariana Grande from Nickelodeon’s "Victorious" stars as Snow White, with an on-screen appearance by Neil Patrick Harris as The Magic Mirror and "Dallas'" Charlene Tilton as The Wicked Queen. Bonnie Lythgoe of "So You Think You Can Dance" directs, with choreography by Spencer Liff of the same show. A Snow White Christmas features family-friendly magic, with a comedic twist, dancing, a live miniature pony, and contemporary pop music. Families can come early for a Winter Wonderland in the courtyard that includes holiday music, crafts, activities, games and photo opportunities.
Run: 12/13-30, Previews 12/12 (Tues-Fri 7 p.m.; Sat 11 a.m., 3 and 7 p.m.; and Sun at 11 a.m. and 3 p.m.)
Ticket prices $32–$100 with discounts for children and groups
Tickets and information: 626-356-7529 or online.

C & C's Christmas
With a Twist

Crissy Guerrero/Claudia Dolph
Hollywood Studio Bar and Grill, 6122 Sunset Blvd, Hollywood
Long a bright fixture of La Posada Magica journey, singer/performer Crissy Guerrero un-dons her posadera togs and takes the well-trodden path to this popular Hollywood watering hole. No vela-lighting required when Guerrero and fellow "Elvette" Claudia Dolph light the stage with C & C's Christmas With a Twist, their twisted take on Christmas cheer. It's the humorous side of the holidays with song, dance, puppets, theremin, and even a little magic! Their helpers include pianist Ron Snyder, Jack McGee as Santa, Alina Foley, and The Hot Toddy Tipsies Dancers! Says CG, "We did our best to find songs that aren't heard very often -- or, at all, ranging from Tom Waits to John Denver. And, those that are more traditional, we are fucking...er...messing with in some way." Plenty of free parking. Parental guidance recommended.
Run: One performance only – December 2 at 7 p.m. (Doors open at 6:45
Tickets $18 ($10 in advance; 2 item [food or drink] min/person)
Tickets and information: online.

Plaid Tidings

Laguna Playhouse
606 Laguna Canyon Road in Laguna Beach
The spirits of Past, Present and Future team as the late doo-wop group from 1964 back together again – with no idea why they're in Laguna Beach for the holidays! Christmas classics include "It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas," "Let It Snow," and "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. " Audiences are encouraged to help the Plaids find their way once again to the spirit of joy and community that sustains them and all of us during the holiday season.
Run: 12/1-23 Previews 11/27-30 (Tues-Sat 8 p.m., Sat-Sun 2 p.m.)
Ticket prices $40 - $70
Tickets and information: 949-497-2787 or online.

It's a Wonderful Life

Theatre Unleashed
The Missing Piece Theatre, 2811 W. Magnolia Blvd., Burbank
Theatre Unleashed brings back its staged radio play version of Frank Capra’s It's A Wonderful Life. The play within a play takes place at KAWL, a struggling 1940s radio station that good-hearted owner Michael Anderson is barely keeping alive. He calls on some old friends (with big personalities) and some less-than-professional station employees to offer up the touching masterpiece in what might sadly be the station’s last live show. But it is the holidays, a time when miracles can happen….
Run: 11/30-12/15 (Fri/Sat, 8 p.m.; Sun, 2 p.m.)
Tickets $25
Tickets and information: 818-849-4039 or online.

And, everytime Clarence gets his wings, or Scrooge has his change of heart, an angel in the wings breathes a sigh of relief, because the holidays are the single-ticket season when theaters can fill their seats and reduce the amount they need to raise from donors.
Happy Holidays indeed!

Don't hand me that line.

The following story was submitted to the Write On! January 2011 contest to write a 200-400 word story about excuses writers come up with to put off doing their work. While it was a fun distraction, and earned second place, it nevertheless became a wonderful excuse for putting off more urgent writing demands.

I speed-walked around the corner with my briefcase in one hand, my coffee and donut balanced in the other, and plowed into the back of a large man blocking the sidewalk. Ahead of him, a line of people stretched to the front door of First Trust, where I was a loan officer.

"Wasn't watching where I was going," I apologized as I brushed glaze smudges from his coat.

“No excuse,” he grumbled without turning around. “You can’t miss me.”

"I didn’t miss you,” I quipped, trying to change the mood.

He turned with a glare, which quickly softened.

“Hey! You're the procrastination guy . . . with the book!" he exclaimed, drawing others around us.

"What book?" I asked.

“There’s No Time Like Next Time,” he said.

“It's online," a woman said.

“Another Time?” I asked.

“No," they said. "Today!”

“The title," I explained. "It's Another Time, not Next Time. Anyway, it's not a book. It's a fake essay I wrote in college. Someone's kid must have found it and made that Youtube video. It's a joke."

The group of moms with their kids, anxious businesspeople, and students just stared at me. "It's no joke," someone said threateningly.

"My son needs something for school," the woman said hugging an embarrassed child. "I'll pay you."

The others nodded. "Yes, we'll gladly pay."

"Let me get to my desk," I said.

For the rest of the morning, I worked my way through the line, handing out excuses I'd used in my years as an editor, publicist, and freelance writer. Some were unassailable: debilitating heartbreak, hospitalized children, visits from dangerous relatives, temporary blindness, even a homework-eating dog. The more outlandish they were, the more people paid: clearing earthquake rubble, a lottery win, an exploding washing machine, being attacked by crows, starring in a reality show.

When I reached the large man at the end of the line, he sat down, made sure the others had left, and stopped me from writing.

"Mine isn't for a writing assignment," he whispered, hanging his head.

I looked up and saw that he was actually eyeing my donut.

"You want to put off your diet?"

He nodded.

"How about telling yourself you spent a stressful morning in a loan office?"

He looked up, smiled, and reached for his wallet.

"No charge," I said, as I slid the donut towards him.

Universal soldier

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On the battlefield, with proper training, a soldier can defuse any explosive device. But the stress, frustration, and unfocused anger that same soldier carries home could be so powerful and well hidden that it goes undetected until it detonates without warning.

Actor-storyteller and Vietnam Veteran Troy Evans told the Los Angeles Times, "It never occurred to me that my government would send me 13,000 miles to kill people if there wasn't a very good reason. . . . An experience like that is incredibly damaging. When I got back, I was completely out of my mind – and I didn't know it. I was so hurt, so angry, so ashamed. I was also incredibly violent."

Evans' "Montana Tales and other Bad-Ass Business" incorporates stories about his youth in Montana that ended with 16 months in the 25th Infantry Division. His time in Vietnam left him with a Bronze Star, National Defense Service Medal, Vietnam Service Medal, Combat Infantry Badge, Gallantry Cross, and a hair-trigger temper that earned him a prison term for aggravated assault. It's unforgettable theater and a look at how one man finally found a way to disarm and channel his rage into storytelling.

He will perform "Montana Tales" on August 11, 2012 at the Audubon Center's Deb Park (4700 North Griffin Ave.) in a performance to benefit the Southwest Museum of the American Indian.

I met Evans in 1985 when he appeared in a play called Bing and Walker. Evans' backstory was unknown to me then, but as Arthur Walker, he created a character that has been indelible. Evans' thick-necked, hulking figure and agreeable disposition were well-suited for Walker, whose powerful body, and the childlike mind that kept it in check, were reminiscent of Steinbeck's Lenny. Walker's ambition was simply to be honestly loved by someone and treated as an equal by the others.

Diane, played by Ann Hearn, was a 15-year-old runaway who allows the lonely man-child to become infatuated with her without making it clear that she is only passing through. When her time to move on arrives, it breaks his over-sized heart and prompts a surprisingly articulate rush of raw emotion and wounded dignity that touched every audience member. If he was not deserving of her love, he still deserved her honesty.

Hearn remembered those climactic scenes with Evans.

"Troy was always amazing as an actor. But it's funny that my biggest, strongest impression was hearing him tell his stories at a small venue. Never had I heard anything of such power and fascination," she told me. "And, even being married to an incredible storyteller like Stephen [Tobolowsky], Troy still remains a high bar with those talents."

I first heard Evans tell his stories in 1989. Walker was gone, but the wonder, the hurt, and the emotional heft were very much on display. In his one man-show, just as on stage or in his 50 film and 400 TV appearances that have made him a familiar face (from "China Beach" to "ER" to Phenomenon), he always taps a universal.

For a Theatertimes story on the upcoming benefit, I Evans asked where his storytelling skills and material come from.

"In 2010, my father, Leo B. Evans, was invited to Iwo Jima for the 65th anniversary of the Army Air Corp landing there to begin the air assault on Japan. He was in a Veterans Administration hospital at the time suffering from advanced dementia. I went in his place," he told me.

"In the spring of 1945, 30,000 men died there in 30 days," he continued. "One third of all Marines killed in WWII died on Iwo. My dad flew 33 missions including the first air attack on Tokyo, the Nagasaki mission, and the last air attack of the War. In addition to his air awards he earned flying the P-51 Mustang, he was awarded a Bronze Star for ground combat on Iwo. I will never forget being on that tiny island trying to picture the epic horror that occurred there.

"About this time I started reading about the history of the early days in Montana at the time of the big Gold and Silver strikes of the 1860s. In 1860, there were less than 300 Europeans in the area we now call Washington, Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana. Within weeks of gold being discovered on Grasshopper Creek in Bannack, Montana territory in 1862, 10,000 rough cases descended on the area. Murders were taking place every day, and the miners chose Henry Plummer to be sheriff.

"A reign of terror consumed the next year with miners continually being killed for their gold, and the gold shipments being stolen by road agents every time until a citizens committee determined that Plummer was in fact the head of the outlaw gang "The Innocents." The Vigilance Committee hung Plummer and about 75 of his closest associates. Things became much more peaceful. In a couple of years the gold petered out and Bannack and Virginia City became quiet little towns. A muleskinner who ran a small freight line became Sheriff. His name was John Troy Evans, my great-grandfather.

"These two groups of information inspired me to revisit my stories, with these stories as the underlying origin of what I am."

The Audubon show will be a great setting for an evening ramble alongside one of America's great character-actors, characters, and storytellers. Tickets for are only $25. More information here.

Photos: Troy Evans with a lithograph of Montana, circa 1860 (top); Evans, seated right on his dad's lap, with his grandfather Troy, and, seated, his Great-grandfather John Troy in Butte, Montana, 1948 (inset).

News spill: All that we can do?

Though not yet making its way to the New York Times, Los Angeles Times, or the Washington Post . .. a refitted Taiwanese tanker is waiting for approval to test skimming potential of, according to owner Nobu Su, 500,000 barrels of oil a day. The owner believes the tanker, “ten stories tall and three football-fields long,” will ingest the oil-water mixture, put it into its bays, where it will separate. Reports are, however, that a 1920 maritime law demands that ships operating in U.S. waters fly a U.S. flag. (The tanker, dubbed the “A-Whale,” flies a Liberian flag.)

The story was mentioned on NPR Friday, June 25, and appeared here in the Daily Press. While there’s probably a “too-good-to-be-true” aspect to this, the question of why it isn’t part of the “we’re doing everything we can do” conversation seems odd. Could it be “ownership of the oil” that is the real concern?

Art, Artists and Outtakes.

In Tracy Letts’ ‘August: Osage County,’ the writer has inserted many sly references to things outside the mechanics of the action. Nevertheless, they are a big part of what makes the play exciting to a critic. Unfortunately, doing justice to this invisible dimension would throw the review out of balance and deprive readers of the rewards of their own discovery.

Fortunately, citing such connections – whether vertent or inad – falls perfectly within the odd parameters of this column. There is nothing inadvertent about Letts’ efforts, however. (Though some of these sightings likely ripple beyond his intentions.)

The fun begins with the first scene, in which blocked poet Beverly Weston conducts a one-sided interview of the Native American woman he hires as his housekeeper. It continues through the last tearful lines, wept by his widow into the lap of this housekeeper. The first scene ends with“Here we go ‘round the prickly pear,” which begins the fifth and final section of T.S. Eliot’s poem, ‘The Hollow Men.’ The last scene, and with it the play, ends with “This is the way it ends,” a slight alteration of the last lines of 'Hollow Men.' The actual line is “This is the way the world ends," and continues with the oft-quoted “not with a bang, but with a whimper.”

This bookending underscores some of Letts' key points: the importance of poetry as a vehicle to embrace and encapsulate; the concept of hollow men, who seem to populate the play exclusively; encouragement to the audience to project the Westons' situation onto the larger social canvas; and certain parallels between the Westons and the Eliots.

Parallel lines. Letts chose to name Beverly's wife Violet, and abbreviate it as Vi, to invoke T.S. Eliot’s wife. Vivien, Viv. suffered from mental illness, tormenting "Tom" to the point that he "disappeared." He first went to America but eventually returned to London, never telling Viv he was alive. Eventually she made contact at a public engagement, but they never reconnected and she died in a sanitorium. That is the reason Letts chose "Vi." But that prompts the question, did Bev choose to marry a woman with such a name because his adoration of Eliot was turning to emulation? And, in that case, was Violet’s downward psychological spiral, shall we say, not discouraged by a man seeking the trappings of the timeless poet?

For art’s sake, forsake the artist. In the first scene Bev makes a passing reference to differentiating art from the person behind it."Gapping" the creative process this way, between source and product, is something alluded to in that same fifth section of 'The Hollow Men': "Between the conception / And the creation / Between the emotion / And the response / Falls the Shadow." (While this is not quoted, the line that follows it, "Life is very long," is.)

This important distinction is not a new concept. The first time I heard it was about 30 years ago. The reference was to Ezra Pound, from a friend old enough to have been his contemporary. Pound the artist was a seminal poet, an indispensable part of 20th Century literature. As a man, however, he made statements supporting anti-semitism and fascism. My friend, who was both an intellectual and a Jew, had to separate his awe of Pound’s poetry from his revulsion at his public person. Not an easy thing to do.

Though Pound – as I recall – is not mentioned in the play, it is safe to conjure him up when reflecting on Weston’s opening remark. Not only was he very important to Eliot, Pound was descended from the great American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow through his mother’s family – the Westons.

Writer’s Block is a Fatal Dis-ease. Two other poets are alluded to in 'Osage County': John Berryman and Conrad Aiken. Aiken is there in the family name of Violet’s brother-in-law, Charlie Aiken. Berryman is discussed at length in the opening speeches. These are also signposts to Letts’ core concerns.

Berryman’s father shot himself, as did Aiken’s. The latter, however, did so after murdering his wife. Aiken, a lifelong friend of Eliot’s, attempted suicide, but survived to die naturally at 83. Berryman killed himself by jumping off a Minnesota bridge at age 57. Eliot died peacefully in 1965. There is much more to savor what Letts has written, and what he has let lie between the lines. What the character of Johnna, the Cheyenne housekeeper, represents is enormous. But a final note here regarding that year 1965. It may be a coincidence, but the year Eliot died was the year Beverly Weston stopped writing. It was also the year Tracy Letts was born.

There is much more, of course. Any other ideas?

Above – Robert J. Saferstein's photo of Jon DeVries and DeLanna Studi, with portraits of Berryman, Eliot and Pound

Brimming with Pride

Crowns
by Regina Taylor, directed by Israel Hicks
Pasadena Playhouse • July 10-August 16, 2009 (Opened, rev'd 7/12)

Regina Taylor’s 2002 play ‘Crowns,’ a loving tribute to African-American women based on the Michael Cunningham-Craig Marberry book of the same name, is now rattling the Pasadena Playhouse rafters in a spirited staging by Israel Hicks, artistic director of L.A.’s new Ebony Repertory Theater, which is co-producer. Taylor conveys the emotional essence of the book, subtitled “Portraits of Black Women in Church Hats,” which is that the self-bestowed “crowns” of these “hat queens” sent a message: we are fashionable, we are devout, we are united, and we have arrived.

Taylor incorporates many direct quotes from the book’s 50 subjects into the play, which is further enlivened with a couple dozen church songs delivered with soaring, take-me-now-Jesus conviction by the six-woman, one-man cast.

“Crowns” has been a huge success in its many mountings and inspired one of its past directors, Charles Randolph-Wright, to adapt another Marberry book for the stage. ‘Cuttin’ Up,’ the book of interviews with African-American men that looked at their lives through the communal setting of neighborhood barbershops, became ‘Cuttin’ Up’ the play, staged here in March 2007. Coincidentally, Randolph-Wright’s 2008 play ‘The Night is a Child’ will follow ‘Crowns’ at the Playhouse.

We can now see that the imitator substantially improved on its inspiration. Where “Crowns” puts us on a pew for a two-hour revival meeting filled with great singing and personalities, “Cuttin’ Up” lets us sit against the barbershop wall to eavesdrop on serious stories with a deep weave and darker resonance. Which is not to say that men inherently have more to say.

Wearing hats to church is a subject rich with dramatic potential. As a character points out early in the play, it carries on an African tradition as it celebrates the only place slaves and freed slaves were allowed to assemble. Taylor has come up with a thin storyline, of a teen awakening to her heritage, upon which to hang her hats, but it isn’t developed enough to shake off the source material’s intrinsic gallery feeling. While the program indicates that the actresses all have single characters, with two exceptions they do not become clear and consistent individuals. Instead, the show works its way through a half-dozen chapters based on church functions (baptism, funeral, etc.) into which characters pop with the randomness of a breeze rifling the pages of a book.

Taylor has given her story another important wrinkle, that traditions such as these (hat-wearing, church-going, community-embracing) persist for a reason, and the resistant younger generation would do well to get on board. The new generation is represented by Yolanda (Angela Wildflower Polk), a nascent Nuyorican Poetess displaced to South Carolina to live with her grandmother, Mother Shaw (the great Paula Kelly in a triumphant return from retirement), following the death of a brother. Although passing the hat tradition to Yolanda seems unlikely to succeed, the writing is on the wall, given the way she proudly clings to an oversized baseball cap.

That Taylor’s script skips over potential dramatic treasure is revealed in a couple of exchanges that briefly offer passage to deeper worlds. Early on, Mother Shaw sings directly to her grandchild. It’s a rare opportunity for eye contact between actors and Hicks, Polk and Kelly make the most of it. Later, Yolanda is caught up in an especially exuberant gospel choir. When she stumbles free from the seething circle of singing she seems imbued with insight, questions, and answers. Rather than plumbing that moment, however, the opportunity to delve into what’s going on with these characters is dropped in favor of continuing the parade of anecdotes from the women in the book, with Polk relegated to watching it like a kid on a curb.

But it’s a helluva a parade, and it’s easy to see why it’s so popular. This cast – all making their Playhouse debuts – is excellent. In addition to Polk and Kelly, the other women are Sharon Catherine Blanks, Vanessa Bell Calloway, Suzzanne Douglas and Ann Weldon, with Clinton Derricks-Carroll playing all the men. Derricks-Carroll has a slight advantage, since his characters are recognizable by their function: fathers, husbands and preachers. It seems as though all his numbers are stand outs, with “That’s All Right” being the first one to raise the Playhouse roof. By the end of the two-hour, intermissionless production, the ceiling will settle back down. But, through August 16, it will stay at a rakish angle, giving the California landmark's roofline the dip of a flirtatious fedora over a come-hither smile.

WITH Sharon Catherine Blanks, Vanessa Bell Calloway, Clinton Derricks-Carroll, Suzzanne Douglas, Paula Kelly, Angela Wildflower Polk, Ann Weldon MUSICIANS Eric Scott Reed (piano); Derf Reklaw (percussion), Trevor Ware (bass) PRODUCTION Edward E. Haynes, Jr., set; Dana Rebecca Woods, costumes; Lap Chi Chu, lights; Cricket S. Myers, sound; Linda Twine/David Pleasant, arrangements; Eric Scott Reed, musical direction/additional arrangements; Keith Young, choreography; Gwendolyn M. Gilliam/Lea Chazin, stage management

Adapted from the book by Michael Cunningham and Craig Marberry, co-produced with Ebony Repertory Theatre


PHOTO: Vanessa Bell Calloway, Ann Weldon, Angela Wildflower Polk, Paula Kelly, Suzzanne Douglas, Sharon Catherine Blanks and Clinton Derricks-Carroll, foreground. (Craig Schwartz)

Let’s Play Hardball

‘Farragut North' by Beau Willimon, directed by Doug Hughes
Geffen Playhouse • June 16–July 26 (Opened 6/24, rev’d 6/25)

Among the intrigues in Beau Willimon’s Farragut North, a winning backroom drama about high-stakes political campaigns and the operatives who play them, is whether an upbeat “love of the game” or a weary cynicism will ultimately own the play’s tone.

Giving buoyancy to the more optimistic option is last year’s Presidential contest. For many, certainly the majority watching the Geffen Playhouse staging (through July 26), the election of Obama was an episode of mold-breaking that promised a new era of integrity at the top. That backdrop provides subliminal updraft to an early confession by communications manager Steve Bellamy (Chris Pine). This time, he says, he really believes in his candidate's potential for good. Though Farragut is not about Obama, his election has leavened the playing field enough to allow that Steve may be expressing inner insights and not self-delusion, and not just blowing smoke.

Farragut North arrives in Westwood as an intact import from New York’s Atlantic Theater, except for four new cast members, including Pine. Pine not only adds huge marquee value – he's Captain Kirk in J.J. Abrams’ universally praised new Star Trek series prequel – he is a solid lead returning to the Geffen after appearing in the first casting round of the West Coast premiere of Neil LaBute’s Fat Pig.

The arena for Willimon’s five political operatives – who include wannabes, wunderkindern, interns and hardened vets – is Des Moines, Iowa before the Presidential Caucuses. What were, in the earlier eras Farragut recalls, smoky backrooms and arm-twisting contests, are now, thanks to wireless communications, anywhere and everywhere. David Korins creates the restrained unit set of lounge booths, bar tables and hotel beds, shifting to a barrage of projected video collage by Joshua White & Bec Stupak. Those oppressive clips of TV reporters remind us that what we're seeing is not what we get: the public is at the end of the information food chain.

Willimon keeps us guessing about these characters throughout act one. That a solid 70 minutes of talking heads kept a full house coughless and riveted attests both to his skill at dialogue and suspense and director Doug Hughes' sure hand with pacing and tone. That the stage proscenium’s aspect ratio seems destined to be one-upped by the big screen is confirmed in his bio. He is currently adapting Farragut to film.

Part of the magic of the rising arc of act one is Willimon’s ability to make every character equally suspect without making them seem the same. Whether it is New York Times reporter Ida (Mia Barron), lowly staffer-on-the-make Molly (Olivia Thirlby), campaign manager Paul (Chris Noth), opposition campaign manager Tom (Isiah Whitlock Jr.), spokesman Steve, or press director-in-waiting Ben (Dan Bittner), all are utterly contemporary, but with a touch of the Bard's big-theme flaws to give the play even deeper resonance. Steve’s travails amount to over-ambition undermined by over-confidence, up-ending the adage that “you can’t shit a shitter.” It seems more likely that he who lives by the spin may not realize someone has him in full pirouette until he lands flat on his ass.

To close the play, a communications representative addresses the audience with a prepared statement that puts a public face on the outcome of all the wrangling we’ve just witnessed. We suddenly realize that these are the first words of the play that would have reached the public. It's Willimon's final word on the matter: We do not know what's really going on and how complicit the media is in the packaging process. The spokesperson's statement is, in a word, crap.

Set, match. Cynicism wins.

WITH Mia Barron, Dan Bittner, Chris Noth, Chris Pine, Olivia Thirlby, Isiah Whitlock, Jr. (u/s – Troian Bellisario, Robyn Cohen, Thomas Fiscella, Peter Swander) PRODUCTION David Korins, set; Catherine Zuber, costumes; Paul Gallo, lights; David Van Tiegham/Walter Trarbach, sound; Van Tiegham, music; Joshua White/Bec Stupac, video; James T. McDermott/Jennifer Brienen, stage management An Atlantic Theater production.
Photo: Chris Noth, Chris Pine, Olivia Thirlby, Isiah Whitlock Jr. (Michael Lamont)

'Touch the Water' (Cornerstone Theater Company)

For the fourth play in its four-year, six-production cycle of original work exploring how laws impact contemporary American life, Cornerstone Theater Company is premiering Julie Hébert’s Touch the Water, a river play (through June 21). After plays on immigration, reproductive rights and penal retribution, the “Justice Cycle” turns to law and the environment.

Touch the Water delivers its environmental message in an environmental staging by Director Julliette Carrillo. The audience bleachers face a found-art set by Darcy Scanlin sitting beside a rare stretch of Los Angeles River where water and vegetation have reclaimed it from the concrete. The “River,” a 50-mile channel that travels from the western San Fernando Valley through the Glendale Narrows and L.A. Basin to Long Beach, serves as the central flood control system for (and punch line for jokes about) metropolitan L.A.'s unnatural landscape.

The overarching tone of Hébert’s script is one of loss, with the concrete trough as a symbol of man's break with nature and lack of vision for an urban landmark that would bring L.A. beauty, recreation, and civic pride in the way the Seine serves Paris. However, the play is itself a lost opportunity. While Carrillo’s design and technical team have given the play a wondrous world for its premiere, with a compliant moon joining Lonnie Rafael Alcaraz’s award-worthy lighting design on opening-night, Touch the Water, like a walk along the broken channel floor, proves an uneven ramble.

According to the playbill, the Justice Cycle explores “how justice functions in society.” But there’s more of ‘cycles’ than ‘justice’ to Touch the Water: natural cycles of rain, run off, and reclamation; human cycles of spiritual rebirth and social responsibility; a real meandering subplot about cycles of violence; and, most importantly, the life-cycle of cement: “Snakes shed their skin and are reborn,” one character says. “Rivers are snakes.”

Although the play's heavy nativist tone and anthropomorphizing may undercut the aspects that are factual, a redevelopment plan exists to make the L.A. River a real waterway that retains its flood-control functions while returning it to a natural habitat and adding recreation benefits.

Admirably, Carrillo dives in after Hébert, investing the proceedings with sincerity and reverence. These Cornerstone plays are the product of careful real-world participation, going to the community members for their expertise, and in some cases to draft cast members. While nice on paper – particularly grant applications – from a purely theatrical standpoint, non-actors can compromise the impact. While Someday (reproductive rights) and For All Time (retribution) did not suffer from their expanded cast, the drop off in Touch is more noticeable.

Cornerstone's mission is a two-way street: giving voice to urgent issues and unheard communities through theater, and promoting back to those communities and their extended publics renewed appreciation for the power of this art form. Touch the Water's dual responsibility is to inspire its audiences to appreciate the majesty of nature and the magic of theater. Real actors are alchemists who need protection, too. Fortunately, two of Cornerstone's real magicians – Shishir Kurup and Page Leong – are here to share their considerable talents, and break up the non-actor speeches that recall the skit portion of a seminar.

While Hébert's script may be trying to satisfy too many constituencies, her lyrics – co-written with composer Kurup – are a solid contribution, delivered on a sound system that, despite mic'ing all the actors, never draws attention to itself. Costumer Soojin Lee creates a fantastic menagerie of river wildlife by recycling everything from flattened aluminum cans to coat hangers. And, without benefit of spot operators. Alcaraz employs a warm palette that always bathes its actors with pinpoint, flattering light – even when they are on the opposite bank of the river. Quite an achievement. Kudos, too, to stage manager Marisa Fritzemeier and her board operator.

Touch the Water, a river play, by Julie Hebert, directed by Juliette Carrillo; music by Shishir Kurup; lyrics by Kurup & Hébert; Cornerstone Theater Company • May 28-June 21, 2009 (Opened, rev’d 6/4) World Premiere

WITH Neetu S. Badham, Lane Barden, Matt Borel, Ceci Dominguez, Ricky Dominguez, Ben Fitch, Richard Fultineer, Rachel Garcia, Liebe Gray, Ubaldo Hernandez, Joel Jimenez, Shishir Kurup, Page Leong, Joe Linton, Lewis MacAdams, Laural Meade, Pat Payne, Gezel Remy, Jennifer Villalobos, Terry Young, and Laural Meade & Rachel Garcia, puppeteers MUSICIANS Danny Moynahan, Ben Fitch, Richard Fultineer, Marcos Nájera, Shishir Kurup, Neetu S. Badhan PRODUCTION Darcy Scanlin, set; Soojin Lee, costumes; Lonnie Rafael Alcaraz, lights; Benajah Cobb, sound; Danny Moynahan, music direction; Marisa Fritzemeier, stage management

Photo Illustration: Against L.A. River backdrop, Lewis MacAdams (Roger Vadim), Page Leong (Isa Pino, Shishir Kurup (Luis Otcho-o Authermont), Rachel Garcia (Ardea, a Great Blue Heron). Show photos by John Luker; L.A. River by Timo Elliott (Wikipedia)

Hunger Signs?

The kind of serial coincidences that are recalled in this column's head may not connect or be meaningful, but the experience of stumbling upon them is always fun. So, in that spirit, her's the most recent.

This week, within a 24-hour period, a synchronistic triptych occurred. On Thursday morning, I was watching a Layers Magazine video podcast about the Adobe website design product, Dreamweaver. Perhaps because I had not eaten breakfast, when Rafael “RC” Concepcion tossed off an aside of ‘bacon and eggs,’ it slid across the pate, then back again. “You can name your site anything you,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. Name it ‘bacon and egss,’ if you want.”

My mind made a substitution, as I preferred ‘chorizo and eggs,’ a favorite I had not subjected myself to in quite some time. By the time I returned my attention to the podcast, I needed to scroll back to where I derailed.

Ten hours later I was sitting in bleachers along an Atwater Village section of the Los Angeles River for opening night of Cornerstone Theater Company’s ‘Touch the Water,’ a play about the Rio de Los Angeles State Park Bowtie Parcel. I was reading through the bios when I heard the four musicians begin to take the stage. Apparently one was lagging behind and, after being chided by the others, made his way out, providing the first lines from the stage, an adlib’d “I needed to get my bacon and eggs scarf!” I looked up to see Marcos Najera carrying a long scarf with a couple of attached circles of fabric that looked like sunny-side-up eggs.

I smiled thinking it odd to have these first words of the evening touch back on the most memorable words of the morning.

On Friday morning, making my way back to the mountains from where I’d spent the night in West L.A., I stopped at a Trader Joe’s in Rancho Cucamonga. It was the first time I’d found this location; the first time I’d been off the 210 at this exit. But the nice clean TJ was comfortingly familiar. I joined several other morning shoppers, silently navigating our carts around the aisles. We all seemed to be shaking off drowsiness. I thought I’d see about a cup of coffee from the testing station at the rear of the store, where I'd seen columns of insulated paper cups. As I headed over, another shopper came out of another aisle. Breaking the store silence, the woman behind the counter asked the approaching shopper is she “would like to sample some chorizo and eggs?”

That was sufficient to wake me up, and I dispensed with the search for coffee and turned my cart for the check-out islands.