My dear Post Apocalyptic Bohemian, Stephen, reminded me that yesterday would have been character actor Michael Jeter's 60th birthday.
Probably best known for his roles as the homeless cabaret singer in The Fisher King; mouse trainer extraordinaire Eduard Delacroix in The Green Mile and Mr. Noodle on 'Sesame Street,' Jeter was an extraordinarily talented performer who was equally comfortable in front of a camera and a live audience. Jeter's first film appearance was in Milos Forman's 1979 adaptation of Hair but he went on to appear in dozens of films, including Ragtime; Zelig; The Money Pit; Tango and Cash; Patch Adams and Jurassic Park III.
On television, Jeter appeared on 'Night Court;' 'Designing Women,' 'Evening Shade,' 'Picket Fences' and 'Taken.' Jeter was usually a second banana on shows like 'Evening Shade' and 'Picket Fences,' though he was often the most memorable member of the cast. I was always glad to see him, because he usually elevated even the crappiest of fare, like Jurassic Park III.
A recovering addict, Jeter proved that hard work and ambition could lead to greatness and he was rewarded in 1990 with a Tony Award for Best Actor in a Featured Role - Musical, for his astounding performance as the fatally ill bookkeeper Otto Kringelein in Grand Hotel. I was lucky enough to see that show and his astonishing, rubber-legged dancing in the number "We'll Take a Glass Together:"
Jeter passed away from complications due to AIDS on March 30, 2003, at the far-too-young age of 50. Talented, funny and smart, Jeter may not have been a so-called "A-Lister," but he was always a stand-out in whatever he did. Here he is an appearance on Letterman in the 80's.
I wish we could have seen what he might have done in the past 10 years. RIP Micheal. I know I'm not the only one who misses you!
More, anon. Prospero
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Okay - this post isn't really about hot cowboys. Sorry to disappoint. This post is really about acting. The 'cowboy' on your left is my sweet and talented friend David, striking a pose last week during a rehearsal for Jeffrey. I've known David for a while, though this is the first time he's acting with me instead of for me.
David is Dear D's best friend. D is godfather to David's son, Little D. David and D have played lovers in both The Most Fabulous Story Ever Told and Die Mommie Die! for JTMF. They are playing wannabe lovers in Jeffrey (if you know the show, you'll know what that means - if not, then you'll just have to come see it for yourself).
I took this photo with my phone and while the image isn't all that great, I think it conveys an unmistakeable air of 'Marlboro Man' masculinity. And before you ask, yes, David is straight. But that doesn't mean he's afraid to get in touch with his feminine side on stage.
Here's a picture of him in last year's JTMF show, as Angela Arden in Die Mommie Die!:
David as 'Angela Arden'
Quite a difference, no? As I said, David is a very talented actor. And like any good actor, he is capable of losing himself in a role and becoming someone else altogether. The best actors I know are completely fearless, and David is just that. In Jeffrey, he is playing Steve, a gay man who happens to be HIV+. I've watched him dive into the part with enthusiasm and humor, drawing on both his own and others' life experiences to create a character that is both real and accessible. Watching him work, both as a director and a fellow cast member, is simply inspirational.
As is the case with just about every JTMF cast member in just about every show we've done. Directors love actors who are able to do what the JTMF actors do. And actors love working with other actors who can give them as much to play off as possible. The kind of trust, commitment and fearlessness they display towards each other makes working with them a truly joyous thing.
If you want to see some fine acting, share a few laughs, help raise money for good causes and just have a great evening at the theatre, tickets to the James Tolin Memorial Fund's 10th Anniversary AIDS Fundraiser featuring Paul Rudnick's Jeffrey are still available, but going fast. You can get yours, here.
More, anon. Prospero
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Rehearsals for the James Tolin Memorial Fund's 10 Anniversary production of Paul Rudnick's Jeffrey are well under way and I couldn't be more thrilled to be a part of yet another amazing cast. Of course, finally getting to act with my Dear D is just a bonus. After directing him in 11 shows over the past 8 years, it's actually wonderful to be acting alongside him, for a change.
I've reprised roles exactly three times in the past 35+ years I've been acting. The first time I reprised a role was Mushnik in Little Shop of Horrors, a show I love but never need to do again.
The next time I reprised a role was Friar Laurence in Romeo and Juliet in a production I also directed. Trust me, I'll never direct myself in a show again. Nor should any actor/director attempt to do so. It ends up being a nightmare. And while that second production of R&J had many, many cans of worms that should remain sealed forever and ever, it provided Uncle P with more life lessons than any show I'd ever been part of, before or since. Those reading this who were part of that particular production know what I'm talking about, while those who weren't, really don't want to know. I just kept reminding myself that "they can't all be gems."
Now I am again playing Sterling in Jeffrey (played by Patrick Stewart in the film version), the part I played in the very first JTMF show 10 years ago. And for the first time, reprising a role is proving to be a joy.
In 2003, "The Friends and Family of James Tolin" put together a show, a silent auction and a gala reception in just 4 short weeks. It was insane; frantic; emotional and amazing and it led to 11 other productions which have raised over $50K for AIDS, Arts Education and Anti-Bullying/Suicide Prevention charities. The JTMF shows have been both the most artistically and spiritually rewarding productions of my long theatrical career.
This summer's event will be JTMF's last "gala fundraiser." The work involved in producing these events have left all us at the JTMF exhausted and frustrated. Fundraising in the current economy is not an easy thing. JTMF will continue to produce shows and donate the proceeds to our beneficiaries, just without the extras. After Jeffrey, our next production will be in the fall of 2013, when we will present a staged radio version of Orson Welle's War of the Worlds. I can't wait to get my hands on a theremin* for that one.
If you are so inclined to join us for our last Gala, tickets are now on sale here. If you are unable to attend, but would like to make a donation via PayPal, please visit our website.
If you aren't familiar with Jeffrey, here's the trailer for the 1995 film version, starring Stephen Weber:
*I'll write about my obsession with both the instrument and the man who invented, another time.
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This should be the last post about this subject for quite a while.
I have been very lucky to have taken part in some exceptional theatrical projects over the last (indecipherable noise) years. Sometimes, everything falls into place very neatly and easily and a show comes together and it's a success. Occasionally, it fails despite appearing to be poised for success. Sometimes, it's obviously a disaster from the first read-through and it crashes and burns like the Hindenburg. You don't invite people to see it. You don't talk about it. You don't post pictures on Facebook.
Rarer still, are the times when what appears to be an unmitigated failure suddenly and magically comes together in an insanely short amount of time, ending up in something that is much greater than the sum of its parts. Such was the case with Hairspray. Early on, there were scheduling issues. Some bars were set to high and others too low. Roles were left un-cast. There were changes being made to things already covered, while tons of material remained uncovered. I had serious reservations. Things did not improve and I grew frustrated and I wasn't always quiet about being so and soon found many other cast-members felt the same way. And it wasn't as if there was one person in particular to blame. It just wasn't working on a whole lot of levels.
Then, something happened in the last week of rehearsal:
I have no idea how what happened with Hairspray happened. The odds seemed so stacked against it. But last Friday night, a very loud and enthusiastic full house gave us an exhilarating curtain call. And it just got better and better. The following night, we had a full-house standing ovation. And again on Sunday! It was crack for the newbies. Hell, it was crack for Uncle P. Yesterday afternoon was good, and we got a full standing O from a just slightly less-than full house. Then came last night's "off" performance. Everyone had at least two things go flunky. I had three, including a wardrobe issue (my slipper fell off); a prop issue (I had a problem hopping up onto the hot dog cart) and a lyric issue in the finale. Most of the audience still stood, though. At least I didn't get stuck in the can:
Today's closing matinee (and I HATE closing on a matinee) saw yet another SRO crowd. Emotions were running high. Many of the younger cast members were down after last night or tired or both. The hot tea with lemon and honey was flowing. There was a palpable frisson in the air. Clicks and flashes abounded backstage as people used their phones and cameras to document the day. Hugs and kisses and love abounding, we went to 'places' not knowing quite what to expect. What we got was pure theatre nirvana, fueled by another adoring crowd who (well, those who could - it was a Sunday matinee, afterall) rose to their feet and danced right along with us during curtain call.
Like many actors, my theatrical career had it's start(at an early age) in Musical Theatre. One of my early ventures on stage was playing Prince Charming in a French-language version of Cindrion, complete with the Disney songs sung in French by an off-stage chorus in the 7th Grade. Effin' crack, bitches! You never lose the taste for that particular high. I know several of you reading this know exactly what I'm talking about. We're addicts, plain and simple.I wish I had pictures from those early years. I'm very glad I have them from more recent shows.
I couldn't be happier to end this show on the high I had hoped it was going to be, long before the auditions had been announced. Below are some pictures of today's love-fest from backstage. They belong to the very talented Megan Sherrow who played Penny Pingleton. You'll quickly figure out who she is.
The World's Saddest Prostitute
"Dyn-o-mite!"
The Turnblads +1
Seaweed and Amber, Sittin in a Tree...
Wigless and Wigged Out
The 'Corniest' Smile, Ever
'Everything Floats Down Here"
"Are You Sure You Aren't Faster than a Speeding Bullet?"
"Mama, I'm a Pretty Girl!"
I am thrilled that this amazing and talented cast pulled together and delivered an exceptionally well-received show that entertained its audiences and satiated its cast's needs for validation.
I'm tired beyond tired, but all the pain and aggravation have proven worth it. It's really nice to be wrong, sometimes.
A few weeks rest and then on to Jeffrey, whose cast will (I am happy to report), include two very talented young men from this cast; one of whom is pictured above. I'll let you guess.
More, anon. Prospero
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This may well be my last regular post for a while. Oh, I'm not going anywhere. I'll still be posting as often as I can. I just may not be able to post as often as usual.
Tomorrow night is call-back auditions for every other role in the JTMF/MCCC production of Hairspray and regular rehearsals start immediately on Monday night. I will be singing along with potential cast members tomorrow night, and honestly, I'm a little scared. I haven't sung publicly in about 8 years and I haven't had a lead singing role in a musical in over 10 years. My pipes aren't what they used to be (whose are), though thankfully, the role of Edna Turnblad doesn't require the voice of Barbra Streisand.
Not that I ever had the voice of Barbra. My last major musical role was Pseudolis in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.Before that, it was Sweeney in Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. Since Forum, I have sung the role of Mister Mister in The Cradle Will Rock and then the General in the original show Musical! the Musical. I do sing in the shower and along with the radio or whatever CD I'm listening to, but I haven't sung formally in a very long time. So you can imagine how anxious I am about singing tomorrow night, especially with folks I don't know from Adam.
I think I've said before that Hairspray will likely be my farewell to musical theatre, but I can't imagine a better role to go out on. There certainly aren't many major musical roles for men my age, anyway. And while I have spent the better part of the last 10 years directing more than acting, I know I have a few more non-musical roles ahead of me before I retire from performing altogether. To be honest, I find that I actually get more artistic satisfaction from directing, these days. I have a list of plays I want to direct that grows every year. And of course, I'm still looking for something with which I can act along with my dear Q (God of Carnage?).
Anyway, rehearsals are scheduled Monday, Wednesday and Thursday nights until 11 PM Eastern time, so I may not always get to post as regularly as usual, though I'll do my best. I suspect that sheer exhaustion will be the culprit rather than time, should I not post. And I'll probably be posting over at the JTMF blog more than here through June's 10th Anniversary production of Jefferey (when it says "Posted by JTMF Staff," that's me). And I may even post something here at the Revenge during the day, from time to time.
Bear with me, dear readers. I won't forget you. And I hope you won't forget me.
If you are in the central NJ area, you can see Uncle P singing in drag while helping out several good causes. Tickets are on sale now. Get yours before they're gone!
More, anon. Prospero
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This post has nothing at all to do with the disappointing 2004 John Waters' film of the same name.
If you visit the same blogs as Uncle P does, then you've probably already seen the banned Hungarian version of the poster for Steve McQueen's Shame. And while I haven't actually seen the critically acclaimed film, I've heard and read enough about it. Hell, George Clooney made one of the Golden Globes' funniest jokes referring to Michael Fassbender's anatomy in the film. And Fassbender himself has joked that he is contractually obligated to appear naked in every movie he's in.
Many years and about 60 lbs ago, Uncle P briefly appeared naked on stage in the NJ premiere of Terrance McNally's Love! Valour! Compassion! It's not an easy thing to do, the first time. Of course, over the six-week run of the show, it just became part of the show; the next thing that happened in the scene. I was naked for all of ten minutes, I think. And most of that was spent lying on my stomach on a 'raft' in a 'lake.' I disrobed; went backstage and got wet in tub of tepid water (I was supposed to be swimming); came back onstage to lie on the 'raft' and then froze as the heat from the lights rapidly evaporated the water on my skin. It was far from sexy (nor was it meant to be).
Being naked on stage or in film is rarely sexy (at least for the actor). There's lighting and camera angles, staying in character and having to know what to do and say next; all while a bunch of strangers (either audience or crew) sit or stand around, watching. I imagine it was just as unsexy for Fassbender; especially given the nature of the movie and his character, an unfulfilled sex-addict who derives less and less pleasure from sex, even though he is compelled to seek it out more and more. And while McQueen's film has been a critical darling since it premiered at Cannes last fall, it failed to garner a single Oscar nomination. And I suspect it's because it was released with an NC17 rating. But more on that in a moment.
Of course, if I had a body like Michael Fassbender's, I'd be naked as often as possible. But let's be honest, so few us have bodies like Fassbender's. Or Chris Evans', Ryan Reynolds', Ryan Gosling's or even George Clooney's. And I can certainly understand why that poster was banned in still socially conservative Hungary. Of course, most of the Hungarian Americans I know are as liberal as I am, which I guess says something about the difference between the formerly communist nation and the U.S. And I won't even go into the inordinate number of gay porn stars who claim to be Hungarian - that's a post for someone else's blog.
Still, I don't understand Americans' squeamishness when it comes to sex. American audiences think nothing of violent murders and closeups of autopsies in films or on TV, but heaven forfend we should glimpse a nipple during the Superbowl half-time show or show a penis on a movie screen.
Many, many years ago, Uncle P traveled to France with his high-school French club. While in Paris, our teachers thought it would be a good thing to take us to a real French movie. So our tour guide recommended the number one film at the time, L'amour viole (Violated Love). It told the story of a marriage that fell apart after the wife was raped. The rape in question was very graphically depicted and our teachers were visibly upset by the scene and asked the group of 16 and 17 year-olds (who were actually horrified by the scene) not to tell our parents they had taken us to see it. They didn't get that we were far more upset by the film's violence that the sex.
And that's what I don't understand about American audiences today. Why is it okay to see someone's eye's gouged out or someone get beheaded, but not a woman's breast or a man's penis? Why is alright to watch an unnatural murder, but not a natural act of love? Have our psyches been so pervaded by our Puritan and Victorian ancestors that we can accept blood and death but not love and semen? Obviously, porn is a multi-billion dollar industry. Yet most folks will admit to watching Conan the Barbarian before admitting to watching Debbie Does Dallas. There's a strange disconnect there, don't you think?
Even worse, as provocative and graphic as Shame may be, director McQueen still shies his camera away during the film's one male same-sex encounter, which speaks volumes to how uncomfortable most people are when it comes to that subject. And while queer director Greg Araki proves the exception to that rule, his films have hardly the same high profile as McQueen's.
Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm one of those few people who actually find sex to be a beautiful, natural and magical thing. Oh, don't get me wrong - I like imaginary violence and murder just as much as the next Horror fan. I just know the difference between the two.
More, anon. Prospero
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27 years ago, I made my Shakespearean debut as the villain Claudius in Hamlet. I was crapping my pants scared. First Shakespeare and I'm in Hamlet? Playing 20 years older than I was (as I did in almost every show I ever did for a very long time) and cast opposite a woman who was actually 20+ years older than I., as one of the most famous villains of all time? This was no Bye Bye Birdie, my friends. This was Theatre.
I remember it being a rather intense production, The principles were cast from a Spring acting class taught by a wonderfully eccentric and often brilliant professor, who was directing the following fall. Each of us met with Sir (a name Q and I will always remember fondly) once a week over the summer to work on technique, diction and vocal production, with occasional character work thrown in. It was that summer that Sir helped me truly figure out what my voice was capable of, and how best to use it on stage. He also taught me the intricacies of playing a villain ("You must believe that your actions are not only for your own good, but the common good") and the value of advance planning as a director (though my personal directing style was much more influenced by another wonderful teacher who I promise to talk about soon).
If you haven't figured it out by now, that's Uncle P on the right, entreating Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to take Hamlet back to England with them. I know the young man in the middle was a British exchange student named Pip (he was with me when I got my ear pierced), though I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the brunet or who played whom. That was 27 effing years ago... I remember those faux-fur costumes were hot as hell and I went out and spent $120 on boots at some trendy store (which my father threw-out when I moved to California, briefly). I remember the massive revolving set and the performances of several cast members; Rich M. as Horatio; Terry D. as Laertes; Steve O. as Hamlet; Lillian B. as Gertrude; Rich W. as The Player and the Gravedigger... I remember the actress who played Ophelia (Betty... something...) took her mad-scene costume outside and rolled around on the ground, getting a massive grass and mud stain on her ass, which we could not look at without bursting into hysterical laughter... I remember good times and laughter to combat all the sturm und drung that is Hamlet; a very intense experience for such a young actor and in the end, a production that was actually quite good for college theatre. It was also the first time I actually understood Shakespeare without having to fight to get it (another gift bestowed by Sir). I recently reconnected with Steve O. via Facebook. Steve shared pictures from the production, which I never knew existed. And there I am...
Today, the gray hair and the goatee are real, though the perm (thank God) is a thing of the distant past. What isn't gone are those feelings of accomplishment and the lessons learned (not to mention the friendships made) over the course of one production.
The casual theatre-goer knows only what he or she sees on stage, at the performance he or she attends. Like most movie audiences, they see only the finished product (in as much as live theatre can ever be considered 'finished'). What they don't see are the months and months of planning and preparation; casting and rehearsing; prop gathering; costuming; set-building; lighting design; etc., etc. that go into that finished product. They also don't know the kind of camaraderie and even sense of family that happens among small groups of people with an intense, albeit (by definition) temporary, common experience. It's why real theatre people do theatre.
Yes, we get artistic satisfaction. We get applause and kind words from strangers (especially if we're any good). We still get to play make-believe long after every other profession in the world (Pro Wrestling nonewithstanding). If we are very, very lucky we make lots of money, become famous and win ultimately meaningless awards. Because if we love doing theatre, we love it for all the same reasons Trekkers love "Star Trek" and X-Philes love "The X-Files." It boils down to a sense of belonging, I think. Its time spent being yourself among like-minded folks, all the while creating something completely artificial to present to a group of judgmental strangers in order to seek approval. We get each other, us Theatre Folk do. Just as any other bunch of geeks get one another.
So, from a still very proud Theatre Geek, this post is dedicated to Dr. Harold Hogstrom. Teacher; adviser; director; inspiration. My TSC contemporaries will either agree wholeheartedly or call me mad (though I doubt the latter). None of them will argue that Sir had a profound effect on all of us, in one way or another.
Thank you, Sir (with love)...
Yeah, I went there. And yeah, I know I'm totally ripping off "Glee," but I don't care. The older I get, the more I realize how influential Sir would become, long after I was no longer his student. And thank you, Steve, for sharing those amazing pictures.
More ramblings, anon. Prospero
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I don't have HBO, mostly because I think it's outrageous to charge for movies I've already seen at least twice before they even reach the cable channel. And while I may not be able to see their original series in first run (and they honestly haven't had a great one since "Six Feet Under"), I know that I'll be able to see them eventually on DVD. Such is the case with Allen Ball's "True Blood."
Now, you may not find a bigger fan of the vampire genre than your Uncle P, but given the recent flood of "sparkling" vampires (oh, how I hate Stephanie Meyers), I have become rather disenchanted. But from what I have read and heard about "True Blood," I would probably enjoy it.
I'll probably rent the DVDs, eventually. I must admit that I am intrigued by both the concept and the apparently endless parade of naked male flesh on display, especially the beautiful Alexander Skarsgard, pictured to the right.
"Not only is Skarsgard spontaneous, he's also comfortable in his own skin – a good thing, considering the amount of nudity on True Blood. The actor says he doesn't mind removing his clothes, despite being teased about it occasionally by his five brothers and one sister. 'I'm not a prude at all,' he says. 'I shot a very, very graphic scene two days ago with a man. I am from Sweden, and it's different there. If it makes sense, I'll just do it. And to me, so far, it's made sense every single time I've got naked or made out on the show.'"
Wow! How many actors do you know who are comfortable enough in their own skins to make a statement like that? I know of one - my Dear D. In four of the six shows in which he has acted for me, D has played gay characters. He's taken abuse for it from both friends and co-workers, but has never wavered in his dedication to the roles. He's made out with two of his best friends on stage for me (The Altruists; Psycho Beach Party and The Most Fabulous Story Ever Told) and even been naked for me (Most Fabulous) on stage. Much like Mr. Skarsgard, he knows that homosexuality is not abnormal, but just another facet of the human the Human Condition. His talents as an actor are nearly as extraordinary as his trust in me as a director and if I had my way, he'd be in every show I ever directed, for the rest of my life.
While we briefly appeared together in A View from the Bridge, we haven't had the opportunity to actually perform together on stage in a substantial way. I certainly hope we get the chance to do so, someday. He's an exceptionally talented and beautiful person, and while he's much younger than me, I still consider him among my best friends.
So what does all this rambling mean? Simply that I am happy to note that there are plenty of people out there who know that "gay" does NOT equal "evil" and that art is not only reflective of real life, but that it can also change people's minds about what is right and wrong. Honestly, I'm tired and coming off of a three-day sinus headache, so what do I know?
Watch for more Sordid Lives updates here, on the JTMF website and the JTMF blog. As for me, I'm tired!
Anyway, here's a sneak peak at the upcoming season of "True Blood:"
More, anon. Prospero
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