It's a Hit!

Well, looks like we did something right.

The past two performances sold out with a vengeance. Tonight we packed that sucker to full capacity and then some, seemed like. This chivalrous playwright actually gave his seat up and watched from the booth.

People linger after the show to discuss the play and shake my hand until Note kicks us out. Everybody keeps telling me how smart/mature/talented I am.

It's all pretty overwhelming stuff for a scrawny kid who always got picked last in dodgeball. (Their loss. I can dodge those suckers like a spider monkey.)

I guess the only thing I'm really trying to convey in this little post is "Wow." And "Thank you." So grateful and humbled by everybody who's come out and made this thing a success so far, and I can't wait to see the last half of the run.

Also, I'd be remiss if I didn't include a huge thank you to Michael Nankin, without whom this play never would've been the same.

Trying to get audiences to find Ryan is Lost

RYAN IS LOST!

JUNE 14/29 @ 9:50!

JUNE 21/28 @ 7:30!

THEATRE OF NOTE!

$10!

I've been screaming that mantra all over the internet for the past two months and I'm still not sure if anybody knows my play is happening. I have this chronic fear that I'm going to dump all this time and energy (not to mention money) into this work of art that I've spent three years perfecting, only to have opening night come around and be the only dude in the theater. I've been there. No fun.

I always feel like I'm just clicking my heels together and thinking happy thoughts every time I do any kind of marketing. How do I know anybody sees it? Especially in the Los Angeles corner of Facebook, where literally everyone's wall is filled with "COME SEE MY SHOW COME SEE MY SHOW PLEASE COME SEE MY SHOW."

Which, I guess, is what any kind of marketing really amounts to. But it must be working alright! We've already sold more than 1/4th of our seats for the whole run! (The theater being pretty tiny kinda helps.) 

Even with those pretty encouraging numbers though, it's easy to stare at the ceiling at night and think "WHAT HAVE I DONE." This thing's so much bigger than me now, with at least a dozen different artists pouring their skill and creativity into it. It's sink or swim now, baby. No backing out now.

So now we get to the point of the blog where you realize that me moaning about the trials and tribulations of marketing a show is, in fact, just another marketing ploy.

RYAN IS LOST!

JUNE 14/29 @ 9:50!

JUNE 21/28 @ 7:30!

THEATRE OF NOTE!

$10!

GET TICKETS HERE BEFORE THEY RUN OUT!

http://www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/1280

(OH GOD, I HOPE THEY RUN OUT!)

Strike for the Actor: College vs. Professional

Ah, the strike. A both symbolic and literal destruction of a once proud production that (hopefully) has entertained and nourished many happy theater patrons. I've noticed something of a difference between how strike works in college vs. how it works in the "real" world of the 99 seat theater, and I thought I'd share some of them with you.

Showing up:

College: SHOW UP FOR STRIKE IF YOU'RE IN THE SHOW. SHOW UP FOR STRIKE OR I WILL KILL YOU AND FLUNK YOU AND GIVE YOU WEDGIES.

Professional: Oh crap, you actually showed up!? Thank you so much, you're amazing! You're God's gift to theater! Have a donut! Have three!

Nearly dying because something almost fell on your head:

College: SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN STANDING THERE!

Professional: Sorry, bestie! Here, take my helmet!


When you're standing around not doing anything:

College: MOVE YOUR ASS!!!!!

Professional: Oh, you're taking a break? Good idea! I'll join you!


When you're running out of things to do:

College: Walk purposefully back and forth so it looks like you're super busy.

Professional: Walk purposefully back and forth so it looks like you're super busy.


When strike's over:

College: You get pizza.

Professional: So you're coming back for the build tomorrow, right? Please? I'll bring pizza!

Check out the Absolutely Filthy Strike

52 Sketches in 52 Weeks: Double Date

Double Date (#14)

Inspired by this scene from Louie. I love the quiet tension in just having one static shot focusing on an uncomfortable situation. Makes you feel like you're trapped there. Obviously owes a little bit to Waiting for Godot as well.

Had kind of a tough time getting the hang of this, acting-wise. Obviously, we had to shoot the whole thing from start to finish without stopping. Can't cut away or do any editing trickery to make me look better, it hinges on the acting 100%. (Kinda like what Aqueela had to go through in Audition.) 

But I'm by no means new to that kind of "endurance acting." My whole background's in theater (in a show right now actually), so I knew the drill. What was challenging to me was the absolute stillness that the role demanded. (The amazing Erin Holt had it mastered on the first take, of course. Show off.) I fidgeted and smacked my lips. Plowed through my lines a little too quickly. I had trouble trusting the notion that even when nothing's moving or speaking, compelling things are still happening: jokes are being told and decisions are being made. As I talked about in another blog post, simplicity is often the best policy.

It's a lesson that I obviously already understood as a writer (I wrote the scene, after all) but as an actor I guess it unnerved me. As I sat there in between the lines, I could practically hear David Mamet screaming "Pacing! Pacing! Don't be so pretentious! Go faster!" See, early in my career, teachers ground into my head not to take long, self-indulgent pauses onstage. And I think those teachers were absolutely right... But sometimes you just have to hold still and be quiet.

Zach was all too happy to beat these hang-ups out of me. "Every time you smack your lips, it makes me want to blow my brains out." I think I'm gonna log that away as "favorite direction I've ever gotten." He sure did get the job done though. I'm really happy with the end product.

We've already gotten a lot of positive feedback on this one. Guess you folks like to see me getting shot down by beautiful women.

Not that such a thing has or ever will happen in real life, of course.