Daddy

Tonight I saw a play called Daddy: a DownTownTheatre Company play at "The Barrow Group" Theatre. After I got a ticket I found out that it was sold out, which was exciting, because I expected it to be unheard of. It's set in modern-day Pittsburgh and shows us the lives and interactions of three gay men, two of them in their forties and one of them who is twenty-one: Colin, a witty bachelor, his frumpy and reclusive best friend Stew, and Tee, the young intern in Colin's job who swept him off his feet. It sounds boring and cliched but that's because I don't want to reveal how SHOCKING the plot becomes in case anyone else decides to see it. My mouth was literally open and covered for maybe five minutes and the audience had really physical reactions too--gasps all around. I knew something was going to happen because it said so in the synopsis, so, naturally, I tried to figure out what it was throughout the play, but all of my hypotheses were wrong. 

The furniture was set up in a unique way--the stage was divided into layers separated by transparent curtains, so some of the scenes were upstage and some were down, and two men came on stage between each scene to rearrange the curtains and add or take away props. 

The play was humorous because the dialogue was incredibly realistic, casual and relatable. I think most of that has to do with the fact that it is a modern play, and, not to mention, the playwright played Stew. 

I thought that the sequence of events was great and well thought-out. For most of the play it was sequential but the shocking plot-twister was news that was revealed rather than an action happening in front of our eyes, and the scene after was full of dialogue about Stew and Colin's pasts, which made everyone think back to the beginning and middle at the hints that were dropped. I was glad that the climax happened towards the end rather than in the middle like most plays because it left me with the feeling I felt when I had the revelation, rather than the feeling I had when I was simply watching the lives of three men. 

One thing that I noticed and loved about the play was that the "heavy" moments were accented with a light joke, and the humorous moments were accented with serious undertones. The audience was great, too--people were laughing hysterically. 

I realized after the show that a huge portion of the audience knew each other and the actors, or had close ties with the theater company. There was a reception (at which I stayed, to soak in the amazing and hilarious conversations going around.) The mother of Stew introduced herself to everyone as "the playwright's mother" rather than "the actor's mother" which was great. The actors themselves also came out to celebrate with everyone: there was a unique sense of community, and I realized that most of the audience members were gay men in their thirties and forties (sorry if it offends anyone that I'm assuming) which made me realize that most people enjoy seeing plays/art exhibits that relate to their own lives. I also saw many nodding heads and heard "m-hmm"s and scoffs of agreement when Colin, Stew and Tee's  told the stories and consequences of their coming out moments, adding to the incredible relationship between characters and the audience members. The actors themselves also came to the reception and socialized with everyone, and one of them is an apparently well-known actor (Gerald McCullouch) who has been in plenty of movies and on CSI for ten seasons.

The acting was great (I was especially impressed with the scene of the revelation) and while I was stealthily tuning in on people's conversations at the wine and cheese reception I heard one man talk to Gerald McCullouch about how he just knew what was going to happen because of the subtle hints and he even accidentally referred to Dan Via as "Stew," showing how convincing the actors really were. Everyone should see Daddy to find out what I'm talking about! I'm definitely glad that I went.

As You Like It/Our Town

I went to see two plays today, back-to-back: As You Like It and Our Town.
I bought tickets to As you like it because the actor that played Hamlet in the production I saw last year (who basically showed me why everyone likes Shakespeare so much) is starring in it. Unfortunately, he didn't have a lot of opportunity to show his (considerable) talent. The play was mainly carried by the actress playing Rosalind, who was so full of energy that everyone around her paled in comparison. While the first half was great, both the actors and characters seemed exhausted by the second.
There was some great stage-fighting: there was a particularly good scene, during a wrestling match between Orlando and the wrestling champion, where the surroundings are bare, with a dim lamp swung back and forth over them while they threw punches at each other. The set was amazing: the forest and fields were shown throughout different seasons, and there was also some really interesting lighting, for example in that fight scene.
But the play itself-- the characters, the storyline-- weren't as strong as the presentation. I know Shakespeare has a formula for comedies, in which a billion people end up getting married at the end, but the storylines of some of the couples just felt like filler. There were a lot of unresolved issues, like the relationship between Orlando and his brother, Pheobe and the guy she was forced to marry, and then the fact that the play ended with the announcement that the tyrant king had decided on a whim to devote his life to the church and give back all the land he took. There were also some times where it was obvious that Shakespeare had written segments--and the director had kept them-- in order to give actors enough time to change.
I was really disappointed that, although I started out loving the play, for the last 45 minutes or so of the 3-hour run-time I just wanted it to end.

Our Town was a completely different experience. I went knowing almost nothing about it, except that it was a play set in the early 1900's, and was completely surprised when the actors walked through the audience in jeans. The set was only two tables, and the "stage manager" told the audience exactly what we were supposed to be seeing in the TINY theater: the railroad is over there, the townhall is here and the jail is in the basement, etc. The actors moved between the rows of audience members as if it was part of the stage (and, in fact, two sections of the audience were dubbed the two gardens of the main families.) The actors were incredible: every mannerism and inflection was so genuine that it felt like a live documentary.
The thing that really draws you in about this play is that you have absolutely no idea why it's a play. It's sort of explained part of the way into the first act: you're told by the stage manager that he wants people two thousand years from now to understand what it was like for people in our civilization to sit down for dinner. But the real message becomes clearest in the final act, which is about death. Several actors sit in chairs within the space, representing a graveyard, and one last character who has recently died joins them. Her attempt to revisit life opens her eyes to how humans take life for granted: in the original set, everything was mimed, and so we didn't care about the objects that were there, or the people, just the plot. But when the dead woman goes back to one day in her life, the scene is filled with objects, and costumes, and bacon being cooked on stage. Her frustration that the people she's watching aren't paying attention to each other, or her, or the bacon, reveals the real message of the play: we're always searching for the next thing, whether it's the plot, or our next birthday, or getting married, so we don't appreciate what's right in front of us.
I would definitely recommend this play to everyone.

Beyond Belief II

I was really looking forward to seeing Misconnections this weekend. However, I found out it was sold out on Sunday, which was the only day I could see it because Saturday night I was seeing a magic show with my friend. After I saw the magic show, called Beyond Belief II, I realized that it was just as much of a theater experience as any other play.
I really enjoyed myself during the show. Despite it being over three hours long and in Princeton, New Jersey, I’m certainly glad I went. There were four different acts, with a few smaller acts done by the emcee during short breaks. While magicians were not actors, they definitely needed to have all the skills of actors plus some just to succeed. The magicians I saw were just as good of performers as performers I could have seen if I had gone to a Broadway show. Not only did the performers on stage have to focus on doing their tricks correctly, they also had to constantly converse with the audience, make jokes, and keep the show entertaining and intriguing.

The only problem with the show was that I was well aware I was seeing a show. This was mostly due to the magicians’ choices to talk to the audience. Some magic shows I’ve seen where the performers don’t talk to the audience seem to draw people in more. Still, I think that the performers in this show decided to talk to the audience constantly because they didn’t want to bore the younger audience members. Also, and I’m sure this was for safety reasons, but all the theater lights went on many times during the show—usually when an audience member entered or exited the stage on the side stairs. During these few moments I found myself checking my phone, seeing if I had any new messages, or whispering things to my friend. I think it would have been more effective if the lighting people decided only to turn on the lights near the stairs leading to the stage, rather than in the whole theater.

Of course, the best parts of the show were the amazing tricks that were performed. Many of them were simple card tricks or rope tricks, yet they seemed so much more entertaining when the professional magicians performed them. Some tricks were more sophisticated, such as moving a woman’s body parts into different places or making a bird appear and disappear. I always tried to determine how the magicians did these illusions. Some, I figured out. When one of the magician’s assistants “flew,” there was an obvious rope above her stomach. However, the majority of tricks I couldn’t figure out, and still am thinking about them now.

Overall, it was a great show. I certainly hope this counts as theater, because once Beyond Belief II ended, I really felt like I had just seen a show.

Caroline

This play had a good ending. I loved it. The rest was great as well, but this ending...
Everything I've seen lately has disappointed me with its ending. I Love You, Man, despite y dad's protests, had exactly the ending everyone expected; "Tape" fell totally flat when Amy walked out and the scene faded black - no one learned anything, everyone was just as confused as they started, no one accepted anything about themselves, it just petered off.
This..."Caroline, or Change" had a wonderful resolution. We got the conflict, we got the sorrow and hope and loss and confusion and chaos. And then we got just enough of a turnaround at the end that there was, feasibly, a happier future than that moment, though not necessarily. It was a GOOD ending. That made me really happy.
The play is about a woman named Caroline, a black 39-year-old divorcee with four children, who cooks and cleans and does laundry for a white lower-middle class family in Louisiana, 1963. Their son, Noah, always leaves his spare change in his pants pockets. That's the general premace of the show.
I was also surprised to find that this was a really intense kind of musical, in that virtually everything was sung. Not everything was a song - no, nothing was a singular song. Everything was sung. It felt more continuous that way, like the empty space was filled, the way it is in life, where silence isn't always so...y.a.w.n.i.n.g. Also, all the singers were magnificent.
Something really interesting they did with the play was - there were actually characters that played inanimate objects. One woman was the washer, a man (with a mind-blowing operatic voice) played both the dryer and the bus, another woman wearing a beautiful costume acted as the moon, and three singers played the radio (and in essence the music coming from it). Also, the relationships between all the characters were very well-portrayed, and I really liked the younger actors. Also, the set was done fantastically. It had some really great, important details that made the scene come to life.
Though some of the themes and thoughts behind this play are a little muddle, to me, I still loved it, and recommend it to anyone...at all...ever. ^_^
-Ginger

Our Town

Today at 2:30 I got to see the Sunday showing of 'Our Town'. A play about a small little town in Vermont, where everyone knows everyone and it seems that everyone is related, or is just seperated into 5 different familys. The play itself was quite fantastic, a little bit confusing at some parts in the beginning where everyone is being introduced etc. The structure of the play was its most unique feature, with only two tables and eight chairs, the actors had limited acecess to props and usually did a type of miming action. 'Our Town' also was different in that they sometimes they used the audience to ask the actors questions, or simply be slightly part of the play. The play never really did seem to have a distinct plot save for the story of how the town evolved over the 10 or so years. Lastly, the part of the play that I most enjoyed was towards the end where the purpose of the play began to make sense, the fact that humans are ignorent to the lives they are living, simply living day to day without a feeling that they could die at any second. Overall, I would give this play a 8 out of 10, but still highly reccomend it if someone is looking for an intriguing and thoughtful low-budget, yet still great play.

Circle Mirror Transformation Review

I would like to say something as a side note before I talk about the play. I almost always wear a watch, and when I don't have it on, I usually feel a little uncomfortable or like something is missing. When I left my house Saturday night to go see Circle Mirror Transformation, I realized I left my watch at home. I thought not having my watch during the play would be a test. I figured that if I was really enjoying the show, I wouldn't feel the need at any point to look at my watch. I can safely say that not once did I feel the urge to know the time while watching Circle Mirror Transformation. Even if I had my watch on, the last thing I would want to do is look at it because then I would remember that the show is only two hours long and it would be over soon. Now onto the play itself...

I walked into the theater with pretty high expectations - I had read a few very good reviews and I knew that Montana liked the show as well.

The play is about four people attending an acting class in the small town of Shirley, Vermont. The students are of all different ages and have completely different backgrounds. The play shows what happens in the six weeks of the acting class. Through acting exercises during the classes and with what happens before and after the classes, we are able to see different relationships form among the people. Their pasts are also slowly revealed throughout the play. Some of these exercises include every person lying down and trying to count to ten without speaking at the same time (how the play begins), or having one person present a monologue as someone else in the class. Who would think a play about people attending an acting class would be interesting? It probably sounds boring. There are a few reasons why this show was so intriguing to me.

One reason relates to what i said in my manifesto - feeling different emotions while watching the show. This show was both a comedy and a drama, with the audience's riotous laughter one minute and complete silence the next. This applies to one of Greg Allen's rules, saying, "A piece that is primarily comedy should have deadly serious moments, and a tragedy should have elements of high comedy" (Rule #14). Circle Mirror Transformation really worked with these elements and played around with them, allowing us to "contradict [our] expectations," as Allen says.

What the actors were saying seemed very true to their characters, and their movements were very natural as well. I don't remember there being a point when I felt what they were doing was forced or didn't seem like it should have been said. I didn't feel like I was watching people acting; I felt I was really seeing people taking an acting class. The main reason why this show felt so realistic was because it had many periods of silence. There were a lot of awkward moments and significant amounts of time when the entire room was silent for minutes. This happened many times throughout the show, whether it was because the students were doing an exercise in the class that didn't involve a lot of talking, or if it was because one guy didn't know how to approach a girl, creating awkward, lasting silences for periods of time. These are the moments when the writer can really lose the audience. This is where the brilliance of the play shines through - the show never lost me at these moments. I was completely entertained even when there was complete silence. We talked in class about moments in Tape when the play lost us. There wasn't a moment in Circle Mirror Transformation that lost me.

Another thing that this show does applies to something that Edward Sobel said,"Good theatre raises more important questions than it answers, but satisfies nonetheless." Leaving the theater, I had so many questions and I didn't even need them to be answered in the play. I loved that I was pondering why something happened and why someone said a certain line. All of these questions led me to discuss and think about the show afterward, and the more I think and talk about it, the more I like it. An example is the relationship between two people, James and Marty, in the play. Something happened between the two and I left the theater not really knowing what it was, and I'm okay with that. Normally I wouldn't be, I usually like knowing exactly what is going on, but in this case it's so interesting not knowing all of the details. They're not revealed to us for a reason. We are flies on the wall and it works so well in this show.

The set was a very believable dance or workout room. I know that isn't very specific, and it doesn't seem like it would be hard to mess up, but it was still really realistic. It had a full wall mirror and a huge exercise ball which was appropriate. Every detail added to the simple set complemented the whole play.

I have to say the acting was phenomenal. There wasn't a weak actor in the show, and they were all so convincing. I mentioned this earlier, when I said I felt everything they did was very natural. Every character had a distinct personality and the actors portrayed them perfectly. I honestly can't imagine other actors playing these roles because I feel like the characters are real people, as crazy as that sounds. I didn't feel like I was watching a play, I was watching real life.

The show really brought the audience in. It created an intimate setting which I think is hard to do. This might be because it was in a very small theater with a small cast, but I felt I was completely transported to where the play was taking place. The only moments I hated during the night were when a woman's phone kept vibrating and when the man behind me kept ruffling his jacket. These were the moments when I was taken out of the experience and realized I was actually sitting in a theater and watching a play. At the end of the play, when the lights started fading on the actors, I realized the show was coming to an end and I didn't want it to.

If I can sit through the entire play completely focused on what is happening on the stage, while Sarah Jessica Parker and Kristin Davis are sitting two rows behind me, I think the show proves to be an engaging and powerful work of art.

Review of "Detectives" by Vicky

This weekend, I saw the matching play to the play I saw last week, "Victims", with Hannah and Oliver. I definitely think "Victims" was better. Maybe I would have felt differently if I saw "Detectives" first, since while I watched "Detectives" I was trying to fit the two plays together into a concise story. For the most part, this could not be done. At the end of "Victims" I was given the impression that the three sisters were the ones pulling the strings, but "Detectives" seemed to imply that the Mayor, who turned out the be half demon, was running the show. However, we did mistakenly go to the "surprise ending" day for Detectives, so maybe things would have made more sense if we had gone to another showing. Although it wasn't just the ending that was bad; in "Detectives", almost every scene at the beginning began with a voice-over, usually a phone conversation. Which makes some sense to me, but one scene, when the detectives go to examine the mutilated body of a man who had died in his sleep, was done entirely in voice-over. I can't think of a reason why this choice was made other than they couldn't afford to make the props for a hospital scene. The scene wasn't even necessary to the plot, and wasn't mentioned at all in "Victims." There were also two musical numbers with the three sisters about pastries. From the way these characters were portrayed in "Victims," it didn't seem logical to me for them to be dancing for us about pastries. I can't see the motivation. I also have trouble seeing the significance of pastries to the play. "Detectives" did offer up an interesting new insight into the purpose of pastries though. One of the detectives makes note of the fact that cave paintings of nudes with pastries had recently been found in the town. So, maybe there's some form of curse on the town that causes people to make art with nudes and pastries and people to die soon after. I was really hoping for an explanation, or at least enough evidence to figure it out for myself from "Detectives." Over all, I'd guess I think of the play "Detectives" as a shitty first draft. There were a lot of parts where it could have been cut down and improved on. I think part of the reason it was bad was because there were all of these weird little gems the writer wanted to keep (like three undead demonic women singing about pastries) that meaning and conclusion was thrown to the side.

Aristotle as applied to "An Indiscretion" and "Shift"

Aristotle, the "master of observation and classification," laid down a series of rules that he felt all plays should follow in order to be successful. His writings, contained in his work Poetics, have become a standard by which many people analyze plays.

The plays that we looked at in class, "An Indiscretion" and "Shift", do not fully adhere to Aristotle's rules. For example, Aristotle believed that plot was the most important element of a play. And while there is plot to be found in both of these pieces, they are established by dialogue and do not really contain the trajectory that Aristotle believed a play should have. The beginnings are both beginnings, and while both stories represent a change over time, with the Woman in "An Indiscretion" revealing that she has little faith in her husband and Dane deciding to leave in "Shift,"they both lack a direct recognition. None of the characters come to acquire much knowledge to speak of, and instead both plays leave the reader with somewhat foreboding endings that lack resolve. There is also little development or depth of character established in both.

However, It is likely that many of these differences can be attributed to the fact that the epic, and longer plays in general, where in vogue during Aristotle's time. This also speaks to Aristotle's ideas about the magnitude. He would have likely felt that thes plays are too short or perhaps too uneventful. They are both certainly too brief for "bad fortune to change to good" or vice versa.

Aristotle teaches us that action is the basis of all theatre. Whether this be the plot, the characters, or thought, a play is completely useless without action. Strangely, both An Interlude and Shift were, technically, very low on the action. In An Interlude, both the man and woman, according to the script, never move. They simply sit facing each other, with the woman holding a notepad. Essentially, this shouldn't be good theatre...but it is. Because an action can be verbal too: speak, refute, ask, argue, interrupt, etc. While physically this play might very well be boring, it has a lot of competing actions through the thought processes and words of both characters. With just this, they set the scene, display their personalities, explain the conflict - multiple conflicts, actually - and a sort of trailing-off resolution.
Meanwhile, Shift has a good deal more action. In fact, the script doesn't function well without a few stage directions. While the words are important, the actions of the characters show much better what their situation is, how they're dealing with it, how they relate to each other, etc. The only thing physically seeing these characters on stage wouldn't show us is the circumstances of the city: the Shifting. That's a strange enough idea that it must be explained, though it's done casually here. However, everything else is action, covered by simple, pretty words. You may sense it through the script, but the tension between the characters - the real conflict - must be shown.
So it seems Aristotle is right...though I'd like to point out that, since life is a series of actions, and plays are always about life in some way, the conclusion that action makes up the theatrical story is sort of, well...obvious.

As You Like It- BAM

Tonight I ventured to the Harvey Theater with my mom to see Sam Mendes's production of As You Like It. It was very modernized and simplistic. As the show was going on, I was loving it, but afterwards I realized that a few choices throughout the play bothered me. Rosalind, arguably the main character in the play, wound up overshadowing a lot of the other actors as the play progressed. Her personality was so powerful, and everyone else's were so weak; the play almost wasn't believable. In the beginning of the play, Rosalind and her cousin (and best friend) Celia have a very warm relationship, but by the end Celia sort of loses her voice. To conclude the play, Rosalind winds up with Orlando, a character who lost his gusto as the play progressed, and by the end it didn't make sense as to why she wanted to be with him. Ironically, a review that just let out said that there didn't seem to be any chemistry between Rosalind and Orlando, even though the actors are married in real life!

I feel as if some of these character developments were enforced by Mendes, because listening to the script alone, it's clear that both Orlando and Celia could have been more outgoing and appealing throughout the entire play. I guess Mendes wanted Orlando to turn into the pensive hunk or something, and I suppose that he made Celia more subdued to show how ludicrous Rosalind was being, but regardless I think the play grew weaker.

I know this happens in a lot of plays, especially in Shakespearean productions, but Mendes used a lot of the same actors to play different characters, and didn't change them well enough for the audience to be able to detect the differences. One actor played two different Dukes, who were enemies one might say, and it made the plot a lot more confusing when characters seemed as if they were interacting with a Duke that they were not supposed to be interacting with. I think if I had read the play beforehand, that might have made more sense.

The set was dark, beautiful, and simple. Somehow, using the same set the entire time, the characters always seemed to be in different locations. There were amazing, but again, simple, guitar numbers throughout with singing, something Mendes obviously added to the play. The songs broke up the long duration of the play nicely, and many of them were funny. I don't want to give anything away, but there was a hilarious Bob Dylan reference that I don't think anyone in the audience was expecting.

Even though this review, or reflection, or whatever you may call it, seems a little critical of the production, I really did enjoy it as a whole and I definitely think it is worth seeing. Mendes got extremely creative and added a lot of humor and modern touches. I'm also sure that the music was unique to the production, which is something audiences don't see in every play. Overall, I think it is a well-done, light-hearted and fresh revival of Shakespeare's work.

Dark Rapture

Earlier this week I went to see Eric Overmyer's Dark Rapture at The Connelly Theater. Overmyer is best known for as a writer for television; he has worked on Law and Order, The Wire, and others. I was interested to see what kind of approach a person who is so used to the world of TV would take towards screen writing.

Dark Rapture is a noir crime drama about a woman who was intended to launder money for the mafia, and ended up being suspected of trying to rip them off. It is suspenseful, violent, profane and witty journey across America involving identity change, organized crime, and nationalist militarism.

The plot, while not terribly original for its genre, seems slightly out of its element on stage, and is somewhat more reminiscent it its pacing to a show or a film. It is essentialy a convoluted memory game interspersed with sudden scenes of violence or sex. The script however, is quite sharp and full of distinct characters concepts and lines. These are its saving grace, is the low budget of the production and some patchy acting left me losing my focus. Some actors flubbed lines, others simply didn't seem to be particularly inspired. The chemistry between the faithful spouses and adulterers, Armenian militants and Turkish citizens,"debt collectors" and those in debt was disappointingly weak. It also didn't help that most of the actors played multiple roles with little distinction made between them.

So all in all, it had good dialogue, perhaps a little ambitious for the stage, and definitely too ambitious for a low-budget production.

Aristotle's Lessons Applied to Shift and An Indiscretion

I have written down that Aristotle thought a beginning does not require things to have happened for before it. In An Indiscretion, I think this certainly is the case. However, at first I disagreed with that notion. I thought that if the writer of An Indiscretion were following Aristotle’s “rules’ for good theater, he or she would have started with the accusations against the man, or even with the scene where he allegedly has an affair, since these scenes would truly be the beginning of the story. But then I realized that the story of this short play wasn’t about the affair or accusations: it was about a couple trying to work something out together. The writer’s choice to start with the couple coming up with a solution while arguing, it then seemed, was a sufficient beginning according to Aristotle’s guidelines because it kicked off the plot (which, again, is about only couple coping in a bad situation) and didn’t require anything to happen before it. I realized that a beginning that started with accusations or the affair would be irrelevant to the plot, proving my initial conclusion wrong.

The same thing is the case with Shift. While the setting of the play may be in a “shifting” New York City, this is not Shift’s plot. Again, the plot revolves around two people that have to cope with outside forces pushing them apart. Nothing in the couple’s relationship has to be shown before the writer begins the play, so I think Shift also has a beginning that Aristotle would respect.

Aristotle thought an ending should have events leading up to it. I don’t think this is very clear explanation. For instance, if I were sitting down in a chair and then stood up, would my standing up be an ending? Technically, going from sitting to standing would count as an event resulting with me standing up. However, I don’t think Aristotle would think that this was an ending. Or maybe he would think it’s an ending, but not a very good one. I feel like his definition for an ending is too broad (I understand he probably purposely made it like this) and could be applied to anything. Since I’m a little confused on what Aristotle thinks an ending is, it’s a little bit hard to determine whether or not I think Shift and An Indiscretion follow it. However, from what I can tell, both plays have events that lead up to the endings, so I guess they do follow Aristotle’s rules.

Aristotle believes plays often have a reversal, meaning things are going one way, something happens, and then things turn around. While both plays don’t uses an extraordinary amount of reversal, I believe Shift definitely this uses more. As Kelly speaks to the audience and gives us glimpses of flashbacks, we learn a lot more about this couple. Dane previously “dreamed of coming [to New York City] his whole life” and saw the city as “possibilities.” Even Kelly was envious of the way Dane viewed things and wished she “could see the city through [Dane’s] eyes.” After the shifting occurs, not only has the city shifted, but the characters have as well. Now Dane wishes to leave the city, a place that once seemed like a dream for him and Kelly wants to remain. The shifting was the event that caused the reversal, and I think this definitely categorizes under Aristotle’s views on reversals.

As for recognition, it is mostly used in An Indiscretion. The woman and man are trying to find a solution to situation that has arisen due to the man’s bad choices. At first the woman seems willing to help her husband and wants to believe that he has not had an affair, as has been claimed. In a way, the woman is almost ignorant for not believing or not wanting to believe the claims against her husband. Through an argument with her husband, the woman begins to realize that her husband is not the man she thought he was, admits that she doesn’t believe his side of the story and thinks that marrying him was one of her “mistakes.” I think Aristotle’s lesson on recognition is certainly present here.

Aristotle Vs. Rivera/Sobel

Edward Sobel's first note about good theater is, "good theatre raises more important questions than it answers, but it satisfies nonetheless." This stayed in my mind as I read "Shift." While reading aloud in class, most peoples' eyebrows were furrowed when Tracz showed us a corner that used to be there and now isn't and the empire state building that was closer to Dane and Kelly's window than it had ever been. What is he talking about?

But when I reread, after I figured out that the city was physically shifting, the questions that came up in my head didn't have to do with the moving corners and buildings. I thought, "Why did the city start to shift the exact day Dane moved in with Kelly?" and "Why hasn't anyone tried to map the shifts yet? Why was Kelly the first one? Does that mean that the city wasn't really shifting and the only thing shifting is her relationship with Dane?" And somehow, when the play ended, I was satisfied. 

I do think, however, that Aristotle wouldn't be. He put so much emphasis on magnitude, and I believe that he would think this play was too short. He wants plays that are long enough for bad fortune to turn good or good fortune to turn bad, and in "Shift," it's up to us as readers to figure out that Dane and Kelly's fortune was at one point more positive. Aristotle would think that "Shift" is missing a solid beginning--one where Dane and Kelly were happy, before the city started to move around. 

Aristotle would be proud of Zayd Dohrn's ability to determine the quality of the play by his two characters. But he also stresses that plot should be central and more important than the characters or anything else. Yes, "An Indiscretion" is about a stubborn politician facing some sort of scandal and in need of a lawyer. But the fact that it is a conversation between two people with such obvious personalities makes me appreciate the play for Man and Woman rather than the plot. We have to fish for the story by acting as flies on the wall in a room with a hostile woman who--talks with-- plenty-- of-- unsure dashes to her snarky 60-something-year-old husband who is desperate to hear her say she loves him.  

Aristotle would find the ending insufficient--like "Shift," "An Indiscretion" forces us to interpret the man's indiscretion that got him to the point of needing a lawyer in the first place. And there's no real closure in the end. I find that Rivera's point about displaying information in a play "like an IV drip" where you must dispense just enough to keep the body alive, but not too much too soon, describes this play very well and is very much like my Sobel example. Times are changing, and I think that Sobel and Rivera's opinions on good theater match "Shift" and "An Indiscretion" much better than Aristotle's--he's more of an old fashioned kind of guy who wants our new-age writers to be as clear as possible. 

Aristotle and Rivera's Lessons in An Indiscretion and Shift

There are a few ways An Indiscretion and Shift go along with the lesson's of Aristotle and Rivera, and other ways they may go against what Aristotle believes. In An Indiscreation, the beginning line is "We should make a list." This fits Aristotle's form because we are expecting something to follow after that. The middle of the play, on the other hand, is a little harder to pinpoint. It seems that there is just mounting frustration that builds up between the man and woman, and we see the woman trying to help the man when she really doesn't even believe in him. The play ends with "Yes. Well, well all make mistakes." I think this also fits Aristotle's view of an ending, because this line can't stand alone or we'd be left with many questions. We would be left wondering what mistakes the woman is talking about. We know then, that dialogue has to come before to build up to this line. Even though this seems to follow Aristotle's rule in that way, it is not the most satisfying and complete ending. I think Dohrn could have continued the play as well. I don't think the play had to stop where it did, but it didn't have to continue either. It left us in a weird position; it ended, but we are left wondering, as Chandler said, what the man's response would be. I guess the point is that it is up to us to decide, but I wouldn't mind the playwright taking it a little further and allowing us to see if a fight would develop between the two and what would happen. In this way, I think Aristotle might not think the plot was complete. But that's the point. What An Indiscretion provides us with, is a snapshot into the lives of this man and woman. We are looking through a window into their lives, and all we see is part of a conversation between them. Even though the play doesn't come full circle, it leaves us with many interpretations of what came before the first line, and what came after the last. It may be more telling that we are only given their words to each other.

What also follows Aristotle's rule is the idea of recognition. I think throughout the play and then at the end, the woman realizes she actually does not believe her husband, and maybe she didn't realize that at the very beginning. Also, there is an element of surprise. We don't really know what the man actually did until the end, allowing the story to reveal itself and not stay on the same back and forth bantering of the man saying "What about..." and the woman saying "No, it can't be that person..." over and over again. It was a nice change of pace when we were finally given that other piece of information, and the play kept us interested because the further we read, the more we learned, not only through the man and woman's words, but through how they were dealing with each other.

In Shift, we find out that Dane started out being very excited to be in the city, a place for possibilties. As the shifts in the city continue and move out of place, we see Dane and Kelly's relationship also shifting. There's a parallel between the city around them and their relationship with each other which I think is important. This deals with Rivera's rule of showing something. Tracz shows us how the outside world relates to people's relationships, how they affect one another, and how to deal with it. There is also a build up in Shift, like in An Indiscretion, that we see. As we read more and more, we see Dane end up wanting to leave and Kelly pleading with him to stay. I think there is also a sense of recognition on Kelly's part. She has been unable to accept that Dane doesn't want to live in the city. Because their views are so completely off and they are not on the same level, we see her ignore his words and tell him to stay. It is only at the end that, while I don't know if she has accepted it, she realizes what is happening between them.

Also, this is according to Rivera's lessons, I think Shift allows us to "lose [ourselves] in [their] fictive world". This also goes by what my manifesto said which is that I want to be transported to another place and that's what Shift did. Even with Kelly turning to the audience to speak, we get an inside look into their world, relationship, feelings, thoughts and words after a fight. I thought what we spoke about in class - take the play to the story - is interesting and definitely applies here. Tracz didn't give us even the ending of Kelly and Dane's fight. Whether that would have been interesting or not, we learned so much from what happened after their fight that we didn't even need to see the fight play out to understand them. While the play started with Dane saying to Kelly, "You want to tell me what you're thinking..." I don't think it had to. I also thought it was interesting that Tracz decided to end the play with a flashback. I think because of this, Shift ended in a completely different way. We could have finished the play feeling something completely different if it ended with Dane telling Kelly to go with him, instead of the memory that we are left with.

Aristotle's teachings

Aristotle spoke of plays as dictations or multiple actions that all have a beginning, middle and end. Also, it is essential for every play to have some form of understandable, more importantly good, plot; in which characters, who each represent certain qualities of man, can express themselves in the specific situation the play is about. In the case for ‘An Indiscretion’ and ‘Shift,’ the characters are given, by the writers, a special emotional connection or trait that provides the actors with a sense of how to properly portray their characters. For ‘An Indiscretion,’ the play appears to begin the moment where WOMEN, who has a kind of intellectual feminist, yet reserved, attitude towards the events at hand, announces that she and her husband, MAN, should “make a list.” The MAN, who appears to be some type of politician, has an almost desperate, worried and ashamed quality to his personality, because of this, I believe that the middle of this play is when he confesses his age revealing his worry for being “old.” The end of this play, is when WOMEN shows her distrust and anger at the last line when she says how marrying MAN was a “mistake.” The next play, ‘Shift’ provides the reader with two similar personalities yet mentally different in respect to their surroundings. The start of this play is right at the beginning when DANE, who is the more timid and fearful character, asks how his friend KELLY, who is much more open about who she is and has no problem with change, is feeling. The middle is found at scene IV when DANE states how he is tired of the ever-changing city and is going to leave. The end of it however, is not at the direct end, I believe that the end of this play is when DANE asks KELLY if she wants to leave the city with him, because after that line it is basically about their past and how they met. These both follow Aristotle because each one of them individually creates a plot with internal action/conflict that the characters, who contain traits found in man.

Aristotle, An Indiscretion, Shift

Although I quite respect Aristotle for his work in the scientific fields, (much of which has now been refuted, but he still gets props for figuring out what he did so long ago) his philosophical ideas often leave something to be desired in my opinion, and his thoughts on plays seem quite self-explanatory. If anything, he merely quantitatively articulated that which many of his relatively uneducated ancient Greek peers were presumably already thinking, and even if they weren't, Aristotle's articulations are ones which I don't necessarily believe should apply to our analysis of plays several millennia after his death. At any rate, this disagreement probably just stems from my general dislike of attempts to define aspects of art.

Moving on to how An Indiscretion and Shift might relate to Aristotle's ideas, some interesting comparisons arise, and the two go about their business in quite different ways. Considering a few of the aspects he outlines as components of plays, I'll begin with Plot, and therein his particular focus upon reversals and recognitions. An Indiscretion has constant reversals, the woman frequently refuting the suggestions of the man, and there is an interesting contrast in that the woman seems consistently in a cognitive stance regarding the situation, while the man is gradually understanding the true nature of his predicament. Shift functions a bit differently, and the plot develops without the extensive use of Aristotle's beloved reversals. However, both plays share the similarity that actions in the play do not contribute too greatly to the underlying story. As for his second point, Character, Aristotle pointed out that we watch plays such that we can understand, enjoy, and potentially learn from the actions of the people in the plays, and an association with those people can greatly contribute to the impact a particular play may have upon an observer. The mistakes of the man in An Indiscretion indicate a humanity in his character, and the woman's critical opinions make for an interesting interaction where both of the characters become defined. Relative to the events of the play, the elaboration of the natures of the characters is less distinct in Shift than in An Indiscretion, but the fact that we are shown the way that the characters perceive of the situation they are in provides us with a different type of insight.

Aristotle and Rivera in Practice: "An Indiscretion" and Shift"

Agreeing with Chandler, I also have some issues with Aristotle's requirements for good plays. He stated that the beginning of a play doesn't necessarily need something before it, but definitely needs to leave room for events after. Although I agree with the latter, I think that plays are much more engaging when conflicts have arisen before the play has even begun. Today in class, we discussed how plays are most efficient and effective when they're of a snapshot of a story, not necessarily the entire duration of one.

The key is to shave off the ends of the story that are the least interesting or necessary. I don't think Aristotle's directives for plays cover this interesting and appealing concept. Frankly, I think his requirements for beginnings, middles, and ends, are extremely obvious and basic.

However, I do think that the playwrights of "An Indiscretion" and "Shift" were both extremely successful in giving views that alluring snapshot. "An Indiscretion" opens with a wife visiting her husband in prison, and ends in the same place. However, the wife's mindset is revealed from the beginning to the end; initially she seems genuinely concerned for her husband's political situation, but by the end it has become apparent that she's purely just following familial obligations, disregarding her own happiness. Just from one conversation, viewers can vividly picture both the wife's life and the husband's life before and after the snapshot they were given.

The play "Shift" gives the audience a similar effect. With the only two characters tensely laying in their apartment, it is clear in the very opening that they have just fought. The audience is expected to jump into the story, a tactic that Aristotle didn't specifically address. By the end of the play, one of the characters, Dane, is in an extremely different place than he was at the beginning of the snapshot: he is ready to leave New York City. Although the transformation in "Shift" is more physical than the one in "An Indiscretion," both leave audience members imagining the rest story after the play is over.

The endings of the two plays we read in class made me hate Aristotle's stark, definitions for "beginnings" and "ends". The best plays I've seen are the ones that leave me tense afterwards, internally begging for a sequel so I don't have to do the imagining myself. I am certainly not in agreement with anyone who thinks that any good play can have an ending that has something before it but not after.

Rivera's playwriting manifesto addressed more interesting facets of plays, which both of the plays we read today possessed. Both plays we read were "mysterious, not confusing," (3). Also, both plays wanted to "show something". "An Indiscretion" and "Shift" both show viewers how fleeting connections with other people can be, as well as how harsh our current world is.

I think Rivera's doctrine of playwriting is more specific and relevant when I think about the two plays we read in class today. Both of them were a lot less standard than what I usually see, and that makes them both extremely memorable.

Would Aristotle Be Happy?

When rereading these two plays at home, I paid close attention to the idea of beginnings and ends, as well as whether the plots were episodic, simple, or complex. Since Sophie already addressed the latter, and I agree with what she said about the reversals and recognitions, I'll just talk about my observations for the former.

First of all, to preface, I have a little bit of a problem with Aristotle's definition of beginnings and ends, because there really seems to be a lot of wiggle room. That may be the point of these open definitions, but I find it difficult to deem the start of a play a "good" beginning or a "bad" beginning based on this because you can frame it in so many different ways. For instance, in "Shift," Tracz could have chosen to write the fight that Dane and Kelly have, rather than implying it in the first stage directions/dialogue. This could have been a fine beginning, depending, of course, on how effectively it was written. Although I like Tracz' decision to imply the fight, I'm not sure Aristotle would approve because, according to his definition, beginnings do not need to follow anything. So, then, I guess the question is, does this scene create the post-argument tension effectively enough to consider the fight itself unnecessary? And while there are answers for this from a playwriting perspective only, a huge part of this also relies on the performance/direction/etc. Hmm...

So, while I do like the play beginning with the post-argument tension, I'm not sure that Aristotle would agree. I feel this way, too, about the ending of "An Indiscretion." I am a believer of the "arrive early, leave late" dogma, but I think that it can be argued that Dohrn leaves a bit too early; we don't get to see the relationship out. We don't even get to see the man's response to his wife's confession.

So anyway, I think the main point of what I'm saying is that I see a lack of Aristotle's lessons in both of these two plays, but I think that this might be because I'm confused or dissatisfied with these open definitions.

How Shifts and An Indiscretion Demonstrate Aristotle's Model for Complexity

Both “Shifts” and “An Indiscretion” are good examples of Aristotle’s model of complexity, because both plays contain reversals and recognition. In “Shifts”, Dane is the first to notice the change going on around the characters, something that takes Kelly longer to notice and ultimately accept, but that eventually sours their previously (we’re assuming) good relationship. The decision of the playwright to have Kelly directly address the audience allows her to tell us what led to Dane’s recognition of his need to move out of the city, and of Kelly’s need to stay.
“An Indiscretion” is basically a series of reversals, in which the politician’s wife presents a challenge (finding someone to vouch for her husband’s reputation to the press), and the two characters spend the whole play going back and forth about why or why not certain people are suitable for the task, because every suggestion by the politician is shot down by his wife. The recognition comes when the woman finally admits to the audience, her husband, and maybe even to herself, that she is only playing the part of a loyal wife, and regrets her choice in marrying an unfaithful, insensitive man.

Vicky's blog post: Discussion of Shift and An Indiscretion

Beginning, Middle and End:

I believe Aristotle's definition of a beginning was when the plot begins, or rather the point at which the story must flow forward naturally from that point. In shifts, I believe this point is the top of the first page where Dane says "I don't want you to go" and Kelly says "Good. Now you know how I feel." For me, this is the beginning because it is the point when we start to see the conflict between the two characters. Once those lines are uttered, we know that something will stem from it--WHY Kelly now knows how she feels. Some could argue that the beginning is when we are first introduced with the shifting of the city, however, the story of the characters has a beginning, middle, and end--Dane leaves, thus drawing the story to a close. The shifting of the city has no middle or end--at the end of the story, the city is shifting as always. I think it's harder to judge the beginning, middle, and end of An Indiscretion because the play is only a conversation between two people. At the end of the play, we don't even know if the conversation is over--no one leaves the room or states the end of the discussion. I think the underlying beginning, middle, and end of An Indiscretion lies with the wife--only at the end of the story does she reveal her true feelings and point of view of the situation. I think the beginning of the play is when the wife says that she would theoretically be biased in his favor because that is the first instance we see a glimpse of her point of view.

Going to Chicago

If I learned nothing else from going to Chicago, it is that I love my neighborhood and my house. Getting lost in Brooklyn will do that to you.

Anyway, Chicago was very good. It most certainly wasn't the movie, though. Isn't that strange how we think that movies and plays are the same, but they're so different? In a play there is basically one setting, few costume changes, and no extras. In Chicago, 2/3 of the stage was taken entirely by the classy risers for the band. The music was absolutely centerstage, and that's an important thing to notice - this is a musical, and the music is the most important thing.

This idea was stressed when the show started and there was virtually nothing but music for the first 15-20 minutes. Since there was no physical setting, the music had to set the scene instead, and it did an ok job of it - and yet, there's an aspect of "I AM IN JAIL" that was missing. Then again, that's not really the important thing, is it?

The dancing was really great (increased by the fact that, I will not lie, all the actress, and actors, were extremely attractive) and well-thought out. It was interesting how sometimes the chaotic, untime, things-are-happening-everywhere type of choreography was just as beautiful and intriguing as when everyone was doing the same steps in time with each other. There were virtually no props, but the few that came up were well used when they needed to be and disposed of when they weren't. The song Billy Flinn sings about only wanting love would have been boring and ineffective without all the girls and their huge white feathery fans they waved all over the place.

Something that bothered me, though, was that the actress who played Roxi was...skin and bones, really. The back of her costume was cut off in such a way that I could, literally, see most of her bones sticking out. It was disturbing, distracting, and sad. She also didn't even have a great voice. Also, I felt like the non-main characters didn't have real personality, but were just there for the sake of having a background. In my own experiences in acting in a backup roll, I've found it's still important, no matter how small your part is, to know exactly who you are and why you're there, while some of these actors simply didn't show that.

It also seemed strange that the theatre was only half full. As a whole, we were fairly unresponsive, though I'm not sure why. There wasn't enough excitement, I guess. And to think, all of those wasted playbills!!!!! NOOOOOoooooo................

And then on my way home my train got screwed up and I caught the wrong bus. Oh joy, being out in a random place somewhere in the city at 11 at night. How delightful.

"Victims" (also)

"I am ready for photograph with pastry," was not my sentiment coming into this play, as I was quite uncertain what to expect. This line was spoken by an enthusiastic Russian character who was about to pose nude with pastry for a series of photographs summarized the hilarious side of the play, whilst the sometimes gratuitous gore summarized the less hilarious side. Overall though, the play was fascinatingly odd, and the Brick theater where it was held was about 400% smaller than any other theater I've been in. The plot was interesting, and vaguely followed the exploits of a murderer who acquired shiny things (figurative for sure) from dead people. It used multiple prop elements which were quite clever, including spine snapping noises done with bubble wrap. Several coordinated events in the play were surprisingly well done, including scenery set-ups, sound elements and the like. The characters were diverse in their roles, and the murderer, who shared some features with some kind of wolf, was just the perfect amount of crazy. The vibe of a small town, Sentinel, Oklahoma, was well portrayed, in part by a motel owner who called the aforementioned Russian character a "Red," and a mayor in his 15th term who was appropriately wacky. Some supernatural elements were involved, but I got the feeling that it seemed like much of those elements could be simply occurring in the murderer's own mind, this added to the intrigue. The fact that the whole story, involving upwards of 10 characters with approximately equally large roles, was held together by a photo-shoot involving pastries and nudity, and the murders I suppose, made it a very interesting production, and I'm looking forward to seeing "Detectives" next weekend.

Speech Tournament as Theater!

For those of you who aren't familiar with the world of forensics, I'm going to give you some quick background information to inform my review. Even though most people hear "speech and debate" and immediately think of Affirmative Arguments, Negative Arguments, statistics, and intense arguments, there is a very theatrical side to many events. I participate in an event called Dramatic Interpretation, which requires that participants memorize a tennish minute long monologue, interpret it dramatically, and present it many times over the course of a weekend.

My piece this year is about three different women and how the war in Iraq has affected their lives, but there are also plenty of pieces about the secretly sad lives of celebrities (such as Charlie Chaplin and Judy Garland), rape, murder, etc. When I describe Dramatic Interp (or "DI") to people, I tend to talk about it in a tone that trivializes is, as I've done now, but in reality, there is a ton of thought, emotion, and energy behind every performance. And many of them are as compelling as live theater. Well, actually, they themselves are live theater.

Anyway, throughout my time at the Columbia Invitational tournament this weekend, I came across a variety of pieces. One of my favorites that I saw over the course of the weekend, and even over the course of my high school forensics career, was called "Jails, Hospitals, and Hip-Hop," and was written by Danny Hoch. After googling this piece, I now know that it was originally written as a theater script but has since been transformed into a movie as well.

There were so many things that I loved about this piece. The writing was certainly one of them. It was a single character speaking, and so it was written in an almost stream-of-consciousness sort of style. However, the main character was also meant to be addressing a few specific people as the piece continued, and so it was also very conversational. The words interrupted each other, cut each other off. Sentences sometimes went unfinished. The tone was very colloquial, and it fit together very nicely as a ten-minute cutting.

The performance itself was unbelievable. The guy who performed it spoke in a (seriously) flawless Brooklyn accent, and his timing was really impressive. There was a lot of humor in this piece, especially towards the beginning as the audience is just beginning to get to know the main character, and the performer handled it well and balanced it effectively with the more serious moments. The funny was funny, the sad was sad.

The last thing that stuck with me was the climax of his piece. As we listen to the story, we realize that the main character is a recovering heroine addict working as a janitor in a jail, and the way he tells us this is mostly light. But there is a moment towards the end where he completely loses all composure, throws his (imaginary) mop on the floor, and actually rages at the audience. It was so powerful, and even though it could be taken as the "obvious route," because he raises his voice and literally screams at the audience, it didn't seem "easy" at all. It felt, to me, very much how this character would burst.

I got to see this piece twice throughout the tournament, which was interesting because it changed from one performance to the next. There is a very strict time limit of 10 minutes and 30 seconds in this event, and the first time that I saw this piece, it went over by 4 seconds. By the next time that this guy was in my round, he had changed some of his cutting and shortened the piece by an entire minute. Both times, I was left impressed, disturbed, upset.

A Doll's House

I went to the American Theatre of Actors on Saturday to see Hip Obscurity's rendition of Henrik Ibsen's play, "A Doll House." (In the Ibsen book of plays I have there is no "'s" after "doll" but it varies with every source). The stage was a small square with twenty-something seats on either side and it was not risen. I am a big fan of Henrik Ibsen, and while I don't find "A Doll House" as interesting a play as some of his others, I thought that there would be a twist because Hip Obscurity chose to create a modern rendition set in  1958. In short, the play is about a seemingly carefree and naive woman named Nora Helmer and her rich husband Torvald. Nora illegally (with a forged signature) borrowed "a thousand dollars" from one of Torvald's employees, Krogstad, to pay for a trip to Italy so that Torvald could recover from a sickness he had. Once Krogstad's position at work was put in jeopardy, he threatened to tell Torvald of Nora's secret because she had said that her father paid for the trip. In the end, Nora leaves Torvald after a long monologue about how for eight years he's treated her like a doll instead of a human, talking down to her and never initiating serious conversations. 

The director of the play, Anthony Castellano, explained in the program that the 1950's was a perfect time setting because of the women's liberation movement--he said that the play's initial time period would distance the audience members' connection to its importance. 

I wasn't impressed with the rendition because I expected a drastic difference from the original, but the only modern aspect was that Nora was humming songs like Jingle Bells and carried a  "Big Brown Bag" from Macy's (I think Macy's?) I thought that the actors weren't focused and the man who played Torvald was unconvincing. He didn't seem invested in his role and he wasn't even convincing during the scenes where he had to scream. I'm pretty sure we even made eye contact a couple of times and that threw me off because I'm sure I wasn't the only one and I don't think the actors should make it clear that they are looking at their audience because it brings us back to reality. One memorable scene from the play when I read it beforehand was when Nora was talking and laughing with her children for a while, because she eventually leaves them since she doesn't see herself fit to take care of anyone but herself. The original written scene had incredible and specific direction, but Castellano completely cut the entire scene out. There was no trace at all of children in the play and when she said that she was leaving them, something important, I wasn't fazed at all. I thought that the actress who played Nora was unrealistic and was over acting, and the only times she convinced me that she was Nora Helmer was when she cried at one point. When she becomes serious in the end, it was like she was a completely different person than the woman I had been watching throughout the play, which I guess is the point, but she literally made no connection between the two facets of Nora's personality. However, I did enjoy the acting of some of the minor characters.

I've been to the American Theatre of Actors before, and I may have even seen a play by Hip Obscurity who usually performs new and unknown works, so I appreciated the fact that they tackled an Ibsen play. Clearly it was low budget, which is not a bad thing at all, but there were no costume changes (even when Nora and Torvald attended a ball) and I found a few type-os in the program (not good!). 

"A Doll House" is not a favorite play of mine but I feel like the production would have been enjoyable if I felt that the actors were invested, because judging by their impressive credentials I'm sure that they are great actors. 

Hip Obscurity is a very modern-based theater group who "explores gender, sexuality, and self-identity as a construct as lived in the everyday" and they "seek to confound the commonly-held belief that these issues are obscure or outside the average experience." I feel that "A Doll House" was perhaps out of their element. The producer's note talks about Sarah Palin and her Pro-Life debates, so clearly the feminism aspect was what drew them in, and I definitely think they could have put more emphasis on making that clear because Nora's monologue at the end was the only evidence that women's rights is what the play is essentially about.

Perfect Crime review

I was really excited to see Perfect Crime. Allison and I had been searching for good plays to see this weekend, and this one seemed to be perfect: it’s the longest-running play ever in New York City and a murder mystery. I was looking forward to the show being creepy, crafty, and just plain intriguing. I didn’t exactly get what I hoped for. Now, I’m not going to say that the play was horrible, it just was nothing special to me. I thought the play had potential in the beginning. It opened in a dark and almost creepy apartment. Music started playing by itself and an Englishman answered the phone, telling someone named “Margaret” that she was late and the show had begun. Suddenly, a red-haired woman in a green dress popped out of the staircase entrance and shot the Englishman. Allison and I jumped at that part (especially Allison). I was really excited after the first scene and was hoping the rest of the play would be as thrilling as its opening. Unfortunately, I was wrong. The story seemed to get lost, I felt. There was one point in the show when I noticed I wasn’t paying attention at all. At the end, everything is all wrapped up. Still, as I exited the theater, I found myself asking, “That’s it?” Not to mention that there were things in the play that were a bit puzzling. It seemed I spent twenty-five dollars to be utterly confused. It wasn’t until I looked up the plot of Perfect Crime online that I began to understand and appreciate its story. There were other aspects of the play, however, that I did like from the start. I was impressed by the set, which consisted of a fully furnished, realistic-looking apartment. I also thought the acting was amazing. There were so many lines and cues to remember, I don’t know how all of them did it. I did read that the main woman in the show has been playing the same part since 1987, so I guess that’s partly an explanation. I also liked the music. It really did add a creepy element to the play. So, overall, I can’t say that Perfect Crime was one of my favorite plays, but I do respect. It was a bit of a disappointment, but I don’t regret going.

Victims (it's plural Vicky)

Okay, So I went to go see Victims by Sneaky Snake Productions at the Brick with Vicky and Oliver. I had to admit I was unsure at first, being unfamiliar with Sneaky Snake and knowing that the Brick is a hit-or-miss venue but I was pleasantly surprised. While all of what Vicky says was true I was flipping through the program and I came upon the mission statement of the company. It reads as follows:

1. Every Sneaky Snake production must have a mayor.
2. Every Sneaky Snake production must have a mayor's daughter. (who is killed in the first five minutes of Victims)
3. Overabundance: more screaming, more music, more sex, more puns, more more. The Classical unities and all other schema of dramatic balance be damned- like addicts and improv troupes, we must always say Yes.

This I find to be the best description of what Victims was, paired with Vicky's. While it was very good as a play, it also had serious production quality despite the size and budget of the Brick. The sound design was masterful, and the lighting, while perhaps too bright during the set changes (though there were few set pieces, again, I strongly dislike realism on a large scale set basis and this was exactly how much set the play needed.) did help a great deal with the tone the more intimate scenes.

I am interested to see Detectives, as it was very clear in Victims that there were gaps in the play that one can only assume/hope were filled in by Detectives. I might not have been as pleased with the gore as much as Vicky was but I found the deterioration of the photographer's character against the build of the Sheriff's character (after the Sheriff had died and was variously covered in large amounts of fake blood and even proceeded to pull his eyeballs out of his sockets at one point) an interesting juxtaposition. I'd also like to know how everyone wound up dead in the end, considering we didn't even see everyone die, which is surprising given the number of murders that happened on stage. It also dragged some, even though each part of the story was relevant, it felt somewhat poorly spaced, and a few scenes could have picked up the pace.

plus the playbill is very strange

Review of the play "VICTIM" (By Vicky)

I really liked VICTIM. I went to see it at 3PM on Sunday with Hannah Reilly and Oliver at The Brick Theater. It's connected to another play, called Detectives. The two together form "A Brief History of Murder." Although we haven't yet seen Detectives, we suspect that the play we saw showed the murders themselves whereas Dectectives is more about the police officers trying to track down the murderer. It was a pretty bizarre syncretism of comedy, tragedy, gore, and science fiction. The piece leaves a lot of room for interpretation, and Hannah and I found ourselves arguing about the details of the plot afterwards. The main concept seemed to be that these two ghost-like women were controlling this wolf-man who eats peoples souls and the mayor of the town. There was a lot of body mutilation, and in one scene the women and the mayor eat human flesh. There is also nudity in the piece; one of the characters is a photographer who is doing a series on naked people with pastry. Although primarily used in comedy, nudity was also used to illustrate the photographer's relationship with others as well as his own personal insecurities and feelings of fear. In the play, the sheriff of the town becomes a hypnotized servant of the mayor and is later murdered by the wolf man with a bat. The scene that I felt the most powerful was the scene in which the reanimated corpse of the sheriff returns to his home to see his wife. His face smashed in and bloodied, he softly kisses his wife until her terrified shrieks cease and tells her he misses her. They dance together, and the sheriff says "everyone gets murdered. It ain't no big thing." I think that is the most important line in the play. I feel it reflects the intentions of the play; death is inevitable, life is inevitable, fear is inevitable, evil is inevitable. Obviously this play has so mmany interesting aspects to it you can't boil its message down to only that, but I think that is the major point of the play. I really enjoyed it, and will most likely go see Detectives with Hannah soon.

"Perfect Crime"

It is hard to fall asleep during "Perfect Crime". Some people may find it boring and confusing (myself being one of them), but with gun shots going off every two minutes, it is definitely easy to keep your eyes open during this play. "Perfect Crime" is a murder mystery. It's about a woman psychiatrist whose husband is shot and there's a detective trying to figure out what happened and the woman's patient is thrown into the mess too. I thought the set - the woman's house - was good. The four actors were pretty good too. The problem was that I was confused every two seconds to the point where I lost the gist of the story. Mysteries are supposed to be fun and interesting. They're supposed to make you think, but not to the point where you're completely confused, right? It was actually nice when I was able to figure out clues to the mystery during the show, but I never really knew what clues fit where and how and when it all came together. I think the problem must have been the fault of the script. I think I heard the actors' lines clearly enough, and yet I didn't understand what they were saying. I honestly think if the show was clearer, I would have liked it a lot more. I even remember the point in the show when the detective figured it all out, and even then I was lost. Actually, I don't know if it is totally the play's fault that I was confused; maybe it was my fault. Because I didn't understand what was going on from the very beginning, it ruined it for me for the rest of the night. There were times when I thought I knew what was going on, and then the next minute I was confused again. I left the theater saying "huh" and "what" countless times, and hours later I am still puzzled. I guess the play can't be as hard to follow as I think - it is the longest running play in New York City history!

"Circle Mirror Transformation"

This weekend I saw "Circle Mirror Transformation" by Annie Baker at Playwrights Horizons, an off-Broadway theater on 42nd street. The play was about an acting class for adults in Shirley, Vermont, a completely made up small town. Well, that was what it was about before you went and saw it that is. The woman sitting next to me didn't even realize that the set was supposed to be acting studio and instead said "This really does look like a gym, doesn't it!" to the person sitting next to her.
Anyway, I thought the play was really moving. All the actors portrayed their characters beautifully, and as we said in class, they didn't stray away from "their character's definition", or whatever you want to call it. Everyone was very distinct, and there were people of all ages. The youngest character was 16 and wanted to be an actress, but was having some troubles at home. Another character just divorced his wife, was still wearing his wedding ring, and had a crush on another one of the students in a class. Mind you, this class consisted of 4 students and the teacher (one of the students was the teacher's husband). They did a lot of different acting activities like walking around the room and getting faster and faster; or having a dialogue with one person but the only think you can say is "Goolash"; or counting up to 10 where one person says each number without talking at the same time. Through these exercises we got to learn about all the people in the room, their back stories, their "now" stories. The great thing about the writing was that a lot of the time the stage was completely silent...there wasn't a whole lot of dialogue. I really like shows where all 5 actors can sit on stage not saying anything and it is completely entertaining. And I was, completely entertained. I didn't think about what I would eat for dinner once during the whole hour and 40 minutes.
So I thought I saw good theater. There were moments of surprise, moments of high tension, there was an understood message to the show. It was a good experience.

NEED A SHOW TO WATCH? LOOK HERE - JC

http://nytheatre.com/

Hi all, the above is a link to a good searchable website, useful for finding shows. You should find prices, too, which should help.

Happy viewing! Remember to bring me a program, and to blog about what you see...

Ginger's Manifesto

Sry it's a bit late, the thing wouldn't let me copy and paste so I had to write it out again...

I haven't seen a large amount of theatre in my day. A few musicals here and there, maybe one or two drama productions, that's the extent of my knowledge. but I've seen, watched, and read enough to be able to grasp what a good play might have. Some of these rules only apply to specific kinds of productions, but who really cares?

1. There has to be a focus, a theme, a hook, if you will. Why is the audience coming to your show? Why are they staying? Give them a reason.
2. Some of the best dramas contront a specific issue head-on. But if you're going to go for an issue, choose something original, one that you know well and others barely know at all - choose something that will help your audience learn.
3. To me, any performance ought to be like a coversation between performer and audience. Ay opportunity for interaction should be seized, and way to play toward something you know your targeted audience can relate to should be utilized.
4. On the other hand, a play does no need an audience, nor is there any such thing as a good or bad audience - if you are an actor, you are your own audience, and while you must keep in mind those who are 'judging' you, it shouldn't just be aboout pleasing them.
5. As far as musicals go - the best musicals I've seen were ones that used the music to tell the story, rather than having a fully comprehensible and completed scene with a musical number tacjed on to make things interesting.
6. Logical chronology is not necessary, but whenever you're switching times, please make it clear.
7. Every performance ought to deel like a brand new experience for everyone involved (except maybe the techies, because they're the only classical sect of production)
8. You can make your play as long as you damn well please, but don't make your audience feel like they're continually waiting for something to happen. Some of the must frustrating theatre is the kind that drags on, but has very slow, incremental action.
9. Get a good costume designer, and don't piss them off.

Everybody loves Theatre

-A good play has to tie up its ends in such a way that leaves you still thinking about it
-Retrospective inevitability (resolution makes sense, even if it's strange)
-Must have climax/conflict/point of high tensions between characters
-Should change the way you think about plays (or life?)
-Actors ought to be able to take down the fourth wall in a way and bring you into their environment
-Should have a message (subtle or otherwise)
-A good play, every action or prop has a purpose toward the plot
-Must be engaging/interesting/catch the audience's attention (keep them awake)
-Must be logical and sensical within its own context
-Characters should have intentions

One More Thing:

This is about writing plays, not watching them:

When you write your own play and the characters are based on people that you know, you know it was successful when you are starstruck by these friends or family members. I like when I write about something or someone in a personal essay and completely animate it/them, and then see them in person and watch them ACTUALLY do the thing I promised my audience that they do. It's a pretty cool feeling and I'm all of a sudden impressed with them because clearly they are influential characters if I chose to write about them.

Hugo's Manifesto

I don't think I've seen/read enough plays to be able to speak with any kind of authority on how one should be made, but the five postulates I have below seem like pretty infallible and somewhat unappreciated points.

1) Theater needs to provide escape. A production should revolve around the idea that the actors become characters, and that the audience can lower their guard enough to accept the scene unfolding in front of them as reality, at least for a time.

2) Nothing can sink a play faster than clunky or superfluous dialogue.

3) A play should force the audience out of their comfort zone. They are already all at ease physically, they should at least be forced to think.

4) A play should have a direction, but while a 'point' can be nice, they are usually better alluded to than beaten in.

5) A play shouldn't over stay its welcome. "Leave them wanting more" or what have you.

Make Me WANT You

I have crushes on over twenty people in any given minute because whether or not i've seen them, heard them, know them, or even if they have never existed in life, I know something or someone is good when I find myself crushing on it's creator or executor. This is how I feel about theater. Clearly I don't judge all theater by these standards but I think that my crush meter is significant because if I am led to Google the moment I read the last sentence of a play or arrive home from a performance, I know it was good. I want to see a fast-paced play that makes me unable to blink, one that is organized and makes me stand when I applaud and not just because everyone else is doing it--one that forces me to search the writers and directors to see if their other plays are written like that so I know that it wasn't a hoax. Like in number 18 of "36 Assumptions About Writing Plays:" "Strive to be your own genre. A Chekhov genre. A Caryl Churchill genre. " I want to fall in love with the characters and I want to feel the feeling that I actually hate, the the completely empty feeling when you finish a book or experience, when you have NO idea what you're going to do because the world and people you were involved with is gone and the text that will never magically extend. I've felt this feeling walking out of shows before and when I reassure myself "don't worry, you can always see it again," it must have been good. I've been enamored with play characters for saying witty things that make me really wonder if I agree and I always find myself crushing on the troubled or mean ones that have a significant effect on the play's direction. I know I've seen good theater when I get nervous to Google the actors' lives because I don't want them to be real (when I crush on the character and plot before the actor and director).

Natalie's Manifesto

For me, the plot is the biggest factor determining just how much I like a certain show. If a show is funny, smart, and charming, but doesn’t have an interesting story, it won’t appeal to me. If I come home disappointed because of something I’ve just seen, it’s most likely because I was completely bored during the show due to its uninteresting plot or lack of plot. I also think pacing is extremely important. For instance, a show can have an amazing plot, yet bore me to death if it’s too slow.

This is why usually the shows that I see are the ones that are popular and everyone raves about. I realize this probably makes me seem like the typical immature teenager who thinks of herself as theater fan, when really she knows one type of theater and storytelling. I have seen those “creative” types of shows that are supposed to be edgy and interpretive, and I just don’t like them. I can’t help it that the shows I enjoy most are the popular and famous ones. That being said, I still respect all types of storytelling in shows, I just enjoy the most shows with normal, start-to-finish, fascinating plots.

I’m almost afraid to post this because I’m sure a lot of people will disagree with me, but I’m interested in hearing what everyone has to say.

Chandler's Manifesto

I appreciate realism. Actually, I guess it's less that I appreciate it and more that I need it from theater. I need realistic dialogue, realistic scenery and props (if scenery and props appear in the production), realistic casting. I only believe it when people interrupt each other and stumble over their words and actually take the time to think and pause in the middle of a monologue, rather than just spew out words from memory. This is, of course, tricky, because there are so many plays that make a statement primarily because they are unrealistic. And then there are so many classics (Shakespeare's plays are prime examples) which are too dated and old-fashioned to be "real" in terms of dialogue. But this is not a deal-breaker! As much as I crave realism in a script itself, there are ways to interpret any script to give it a more true-to-life quality. For example, last year in the Madness in Literature class, we saw a production of Hamlet and, sitting there watching the show and then afterwards for at least I week, I became obsessed. I had never seen a version of Shakespeare that actually struck a chord for me, that gave these sometimes dusty words a new twist, a modern significance. I argue that this was due to the acting and direction of the show, but it's a good example of how even "unrealistic" scripts still have elements of reality in them. So basically what I'm saying, in a roundabout way, is that I will automatically appreciate a script if the dialogue and plot and stage directions are realistic. This, to me, creates good theater. But, even if the writing is not as relatable as I want it to be, good theater can still be created via the work of the director/technical crew/actors.

Montana's Manifesto

Good theater is believable (using suspension of disbelief), uplifting, depressing, surprising, breathtaking, ruthless, hilarious, heartbreaking, and frustrating. There are many other words to describe good theater but these are the words I choose right now.
Good theater is not necessarily the best thing you have ever seen. I often go see a show and don't like every aspect of it but still believe it is a good piece of work. It could be because the acting was spectacular, or maybe the lighting rocked my world. Either way, these two things standing with a good script, make good theater.
Good theater is when you stop breathing for a full minute (or more) until a scene ends, or a character exits. You don't realize you stopped breathing until the lights go out and the curtain falls and you let go of air.
Good theater comes in all shapes and sizes: a one person show, a musical, on a stage, in a park, in a bathroom...a live performance of some kind.
Good theater isn't black and white at all. The audience may walk out of a show thinking that this was the best piece of theater they have ever seen, while an actor might think it was the worst performance, the worst show, the worst cast, the worst script, the worst director, of their lives. Visa versa also works: the actors think it was their best performance every--it was good theater to them. The audience goes home to their families and tells them how awful the entire show was from start to finish without thinking twice. Point of view is important.
Good theater can be one split second in a show that was the only truly believable moment in the play, but it was brilliant. Sometimes a whole play will move me just because of one split second, or one little line, or one little pause.
Finally, good theater is creative. Theater is an art form, creativity is a must.

Oliver's Manifesto

Edit: Having been informed that the manifesto assignment was intended to be in regards to theater, (I was led astray by the appeal of woodworking i suppose) I will attempt to re-apply my thoughts on glue as an analogy to good theater, an analogy the relevance of which surprised me. Good plays have a sort of glue in them, be it between the characters or within the plot, a sort of connotative glue that appears only in truly good theater. Glue can also exist as a connection between the actors and the audience, but most importantly within the plot and characters. The significance of the interactions between the characters is really what brings the plot elements together, while at the same time the plot is what gives the interactions significance. In this sense plays really can never live up to what life is really like, the predetermined nature of plays inhibits their success, ultimately. Following that logic, a truly great play is one with invisible glue, that is, a play in which the pre-determinability does not matter. This invisible glue keeps the audience engaged and entertained, while at the same time a suspension of disbelief is either unnecessary or very easy to adapt to.

Allison's Manifesto

There are a lot of elements needed to make a great show, and it is hard to know what a good show is because of the vast amounts of opinions audience members hold. Here's what I think may make a great show:

The audience has to be able to care about the characters. If I don't care about what they are doing, what happens to them, or what at all is going on on the stage, I might as well not be there.

Casting can make or break a show. A show needs performers who know what they are doing, who are connected to their characters, and who are believable with every move they make.


For a play to be successful, in my eyes, it has to transport the audience to a whole other place. If I am completely interested in the show, I might be sitting through a 3 1/2 hour long play, but it will feel like five minutes, and I won't want it to end. If I am thinking about dinner or my homework or something completely unrelated to the show while I am watching it, I am usually not fully concentrating on what is happening on stage. It is the creators' jobs to keep that from happening.

This isn't exactly up to anyone involved with a show, but the audience plays a role in the experience of seeing a show as well. If I am an audience member and everyone around me is talking, texting, laughing and screaming, I will probably go crazy. Nothing is more annoying than sitting next to or around people who are really distracting. At the same time, a really dull or unresponsive audience makes the experience not very exciting.

The play has to hit different emotions. If I am sitting through a one - note show, I will probably be bored. A drama should have comedic moments and vice versa. I love when I'm laughing during one scene, crying in the next, and completely scared in another. If I am actually feeling those emotions (and others), I've definitely been captivated.


The plot has to be interesting and, for the most part, make sense. I never like sitting in a theater confused out of my mind, wanting to ask the person next to me what is going on. If I am confused after the first fifteen minutes, I will probably be even more confused half an hour later (unless the show explains itself).

The last thing I want is to sit through a play that will put me to sleep. That is why, above all, a play has to be engaging. The characters, the story, the music - something or everything has to somehow capture the audience's attention and keep them connected. Without this, the audience will lose interest and tune out, counting the minutes until it is over. The only way the audience will be invested in what they are watching is if they are provided with something unexpected, unique, original, and interesting.

I don't think each and every one of these is needed for me to enjoy myself while watching a show, but a combination of them all would be ideal.

Hannah's Manifesto

Good Theater NEEDS

1. Technicians, preferably competent ones, and strong technical aspects.

2. Conversely, there can be little to no tech needed, besides a simple mic or three to four light cues.

3. Actors who inspire emotion, through movement or words. Choreographed or choreographed.

4. No set is required, however, if there is a set it better be used to it's full potential and make sense within the context of the play. For instance if the play is all about machines and so the set is full of crazy contraptions that don't actually work all the time and the actors must react to them. Most good plays can communicate enough without a set or by the use of simple pieces such as chairs and a table.

5. Direction, the play has to be going somewhere, even if you never get there, it has to have a momentum about it.

6. However, if the play is about a crazy person the play will probably stay within this persons head and therefore not have any momentum toward anything besides itself, which is fine really, because some of the best plays are about crazy people or people going crazy.

7. It has to be engaging, like a conversation with someone or emotional or, yeah, I don't really know, it has to be honest no matter what.

8. IT HAS TO BE HONEST

9. There has to be reactions.

10. There doesn't have to be dialogue. One of the best performances I ever saw was pre-recorded voices played through headphones the audience wore and the actors only had a beep from a boom-box to tell them their cues and they had to act the whole thing in the headphones without actually hearing it.

11. There can be choreography, dance is a medium that slips and spills easily and nicely into theater sometimes, however dancer should never be allowed to speak on stage (Misnomer Dance being an exception) and one should never cast dancers when they need actors.

12. The acting has to be good, believable and knowledgeable (of their characters).

13. The limit of time is 5 hrs, even if I love what I'm watching 5 hrs is too long, and it is especially too long if I hate what I'm watching (Lily's Revenge at Here).

14. It has to be good, smart or fun or intriguing or yeah, I'm back to it has to be stimulating.

Vicky's Manifesto

A play can be pretty much anything as long as it holds a story and characters. For instance, I recently saw a flamenco show with my spanish class. There was a particular dance with a man and a woman. There was no dialogue, however, the gestures, movements, and facial expressions of the dancers conveyed a story. First, there was the meeting of the man and the woman, the intertwining of their two beings in love, lovers quarrels, and a disgruntled yet captured embrace at the end. To me, this dance was a play. It felt like a play. I think partially because it touched me emotionally and partially because of the fact that it told a story without coming up front and telling me. It conveyed its meaning more subtly. I think, in essence, that is what a play is. A subtle telling of life or of lives. However, this definition makes me want to force myself to dismember that concept. I think you could generally say the same of novels, that they're a telling of life or of lives, and yet one of my favorite books, Pedro Paramo by Juan Rulfo, is about death rather than life. I guess I don't really think I can really define a play because art can become anything you want it to be. There's a street artist who makes installments using garbage bags. If I presented someone with a garbage bag they wouldn't consider it art, but you can take it and make it art. I don't see why one couldn't do the same in a play.