16June2008
Posted by Lemon-Aid under: review.
VARIETY
By Julio MartinezULIO MARTINEZ
Shel Silverstein Uncensored
In an awkward though occasionally rewarding abridged rendering of “An Adult Evening of Shel Silverstein,” the five-member ensemble’s uneven musical talents undermine Silverstein’s quirky sense of satire. Helmer Dan Bonnell has staged seven Silverstein vignettes, underscoring both the humor and the basic cruelty inherent within most human interaction. But beyond issues of musical proficiency, what’s lacking is a clear sense of resolution to the scene work.
Quite often, the requisite blackout to a vignette is ill timed, shortchanging or obliterating the scene’s punchline. In “Going Once,” James MacDonald impresses as a fast-talking “slave” auctioneer, hawking the wares of a very willing Martha Gehman, who manically demonstrates the assets and skills being extolled by MacDonald. Unfortunately, a too-early blackout guillotines Gehman’s all-important final line to the scene.
A lack of scenic coordination plagues such playlets as “Bus Stop,” a simplistic game of sexual one-upmanship between Sarah Brooke and Daniel Zacapa, and “Life Boat,” Silverstein’s macabre take on a standard mother-in-law joke, featuring Gehman and MacDonald.
Despite the erratic scene changes, one of the more successful pairings, “One Tennis Shoe,” features Brooke and Zacapa as an upscale couple going through a mano a mano intervention in a restaurant. Zacapa offers a winning portrayal of an emotionally distraught bubby who is positive his wife is turning into a compulsive bag lady. Brooke is properly haughty at the suggestion even as she reveals a bowl of cooked oatmeal she co-opted from a restaurant and hid in her oversized purse.
Another winning outing is “Wash and Dry,” featuring Tony Pasqualini as a laundry manager with an evolved concept of customer service who reduces customer Colleen Kane to a heaping mass of exposed nerve endings. This pair also score in “Best Daddy,” featuring a constantly upbeat Pasqualini conducting a monstrous exercise in just how much abuse and terror a dad can inflict on his child (Kane) before revealing her birthday present.
The ensemble members accompany themselves with no positive effect; Silverstein’s songs need to be performed well to work as satire. Out-of-tune guitars and wind instruments are no complement to weak vocals.
LA TIMES
By Philip Brandes
Though the late Shel Silverstein is best remembered as an author of wryly subversive children’s poetry, his 40-year career spanned a dizzying array of artistic media: songwriter-musician, cartoonist, screenwriter and playwright. His work in that latter capacity, aimed at adult audiences, forms the bulk of the Odyssey Theatre Ensemble’s “Shel Silverstein Uncensored!”
Assembled by director Dan Bonnell, this evening of satirical comedy peppered with oddball songs offers some first-rate interpretive performances of material with admittedly specialized appeal.
In his whimsical kids’ fables, Silverstein’s embrace of inappropriate behavior was a refreshing antidote to prevailing sanitized visions of childhood. Fans will appreciate that same irreverence transposed into a grown-up key. At its best, Silverstein’s writing inspires some delightfully loopy performances. A smooth-talking auctioneer (James MacDonald) offers up a woman (Martha Gehman) for sale as if she were livestock. A sadistic father (Tony Pasqualini) torments his daughter (Colleen Kane) with increasingly horrific hints about the birthday present awaiting her. The fears of a concerned husband (Daniel Zacapa) that his wife (Sarah Brooke) is turning into a bag lady prove justified as he plumbs the contents of her purse. MacDonald and Zacapa also nail the existential bickering between a blind street musician and his talking dog.
Nevertheless, Silverstein was more of a sprinter in his stage writing, and his two-character duets tend to stretch one-note concepts past their expiration date. Viewers not attuned to his quirky wavelength will likely find more belly laughs at a traditional sketch comedy show.
THE HOLLYWOOD REPORTER
By Jay Reiner
Bottom Line: Shel Silverstein’s sketch humor hasn’t aged that well.
When Shel Silverstein was in his heyday as a cartoonist for Playboy (1957 through the mid-’70s), songwriter (Grammy winner “A Boy Named Sue”) and author of popular children’s books (”Where the Sidewalk Ends”), he also was busy writing short, satiric plays more in the line of sketch humor. It has to be said that of his many talents, the plays are least likely to stand the test of time.
But time is just one of the problems with “Shel Silverstein Uncensored!” an eclectic evening of short plays and songs devised by director Dan Bonnell. These dated pieces might have been considered slightly daring in their time, if only because Silverstein was an iconoclast with a whimsical sense of humor. Now most of them seem simply silly, mirthless, obvious or muddled, a cocktail unlikely to intoxicate.
The evening gets off to a poor start with a slight piece about a man (Daniel Zacapa) who accuses his wife (Sarah Brooke) of turning into a bag lady because of all the junk she totes around. The rhythm and feel of the sketch brings to mind early Nichols and May at first, but the one-joke idea wears out its welcome long before it ends.
Two pieces are based on misunderstandings about words. In one, a woman (Colleen Kane) is badly treated and blackmailed at a laundry because she mistakes “Watch and Dry” for “Wash and Dry.” In the other, a sign that appears to say “Bus Stop” actually says “Bust Stop,” leading to an abusive war of words between a man and woman. We go from a barrage of synonyms for breast to a deluge of synonyms for penis, with the woman finally gaining the upper hand. Several of the pieces focus on the battle of the sexes, with the male often getting the worst of it.
The evening’s most amusing piece centers on a 10-year-old girl (a very funny Kane) whose father (Tony Pasqualini) is tormenting her on her birthday by lying about his gift. Of all the sketches, this one appears to be the most emotionally open and honest, which is probably why it touches a nerve with the audience. Most everything else has a gimmicky feel or suggests that Silverstein is hiding his true feelings.
Maybe that’ why the evening closes with a cross-dressing ball in which the actors convey that, when it comes to gender things aren’t always what they seem. We’re left with the impression that Silverstein’s psyche is the real subject of the evening, only we’ve been given no more than a glimpse of this troubled terrain.
LA WEEKLY
GO SHEL SILVERSTEIN UNCENSORED Adapted from An Adult Evening With Shel Silverstein, 11 sketches and songs by the late poet/folksinger and longtime cartoonist for Playboy, this is an insightful and pointed look at the darkness in the human psyche — though it’s also a throwback to the satire of decades past. Five appealing actors hit just the right notes of whimsy and farce, under Dan Bonnell’s direction. Daniel Zacapa has wonderfully piercing concern for his flighty wife (Sarah Brooke) and her growing proclivities toward kleptomania. Her latest escapade was to sit at an uncleaned restaurant table and deposit an unfinished bowl of oatmeal into her bag. Beneath their bickering over linguistic distinctions — whether or not she is a “bag lady” or is becoming one — is a sketch of a marriage that’s unraveling for reasons neither has a grip on. The fraying relationship is timeless, while the “bag lady” reference is older than the picture frame she grabbed from the garbage and also stuffed into her bag. “Best Daddy” is a Monty Python–like skit in which the cruelest father in the world (Tony Pasqualini) gives his daughter (squeaky voiced Colleen Kane) a pony for her birthday, or says he does. She sees the pony dead and covered by a sheet. He shot it after it bit him. Just kidding. It’s not really a pony, but what is it? And so the sketch probes into ever darker caves. Martha Gehman tortures her husband through a game of “Life Boat” — goading him to throw one of the family members overboard during an imagined typhoon. It’s a hideous exercise that reduces hubby James MacDonald to a beautifully performed quivering blob.
30May2008
Posted by Colin Mitchell under: ponderings.
For those of you still perusing this site, I apologize for my lack of posting. Been very busy with a couple of writing projects and a short film I wrote and directed. But I’ve been glancing at reviews and what-not over the past couple weeks, keeping an eye on the “elites” if you will. And for some reason, maybe it’s the weather, the reviews, at least in the Times, seem to have gotten a little better! God forbid!
My only real beef is that the Times stop giving the smaller, better quality theatres, short shrift when they do their “What to watch for” specials. All I saw in that special Calendar section was Taper, Geffen, Pasadena Playhouse and Colony, I believe.
C’mon, boys and girls! Look a little deeper and try and blow that horn for the worthy smaller theatres!
More soon.
19May2008
Posted by Colin Mitchell under: ponderings.
In continuing this discussion, reader, Stewart Skeleton makes a good point here:
“The studios will never pay for the simple reason that there are so many actors and other theatre makers who will foot the bill for them. We’re doing it every day with every waiver production.”
It’s true. We are already nuturing the artists that will pay dividends in Hollywood. So how does one entice the Hollywood monolith?
I know just how far-fetched and “pie-in-the-sky” this idea sounds, but it still seems like there is something workable here. True, even if the studios didn’t subsidize theatre it would still continue - the key is to actually BEGIN such a project somewhere - create a working Off-Hollywood group of theatres or THEATRE - and then over a SHORT period of time (Hollywood, as we all know, has a very short attention span) you would have to quantifiably show that this actor, or this director, or this writer, or this play, went on to make millions and millions of dollars in film. In this way the Studio would suddenly have created its own niche, it’s own farm system where they could test the players and projects for future endeavors while contributing to the “culture” of LA. And you know how much Studios like to think of themselves as “cultured”…
It’s actually already happened, the justification - on hundreds and hundreds of occasions, with numerous stars and directors and writers - but this would be an opportunity to focus, control and measure. Sounds awfully anti-creative I know - but the most important factor - for us - would be maintaining our autonomy as artists. Any good producer understands that most of their work occurs before the project begins - then they should just get the hell outta the way.
So how does one appeal to both the profiteering and altruistic sides of Hollywood? Well, first, by realizing that they don’t have an altruistic side. But I think another key is for those who started in theatre to keep a foot in the place where they were born. Some still do this, obviously, Tim Robbins, Noah Wylie to name a couple. But most once-theatre actors rarely give back - they simply show up for the glory role (not to be confuse with a “glory hole) on Broadway.
That’s enough ramblings for now. More to come later.
14May2008
Posted by Colin Mitchell under: ponderings.
Okay I’ve been browsing through a copy of The History of American Theatre, Volume I in my spare time and I’ve been rethinking this whole theatre critic thing - not their major flaws and lack of standards and quality here in LA mind you - but rather, their absolute necessity to the history of American Theatre.
Professional theatre, it seems, really got going in the early 1700’s here in the US and theatre criticism started not long afterwards. Back then, of course, we were a very puritantical society and theatre was looked down upon as “low” and “irreverent”. Nothing has changed apparently. Anyway, it dawned on me that without these “reviews” - these published responses, these recorded backlashes, these summarily summarized summations, we - that means those of us who have come after - would never KNOW THEY EVEN EXISTED. They would have no place in time. Or better yet, no footprint in time.
Granted, the winners are those who write history, but not so with the review. Because even the BAD reviews remain! That’s the beauty of it! Whereas most of history is written from the point of view of the conqueror and the survivors, the theatre reviews stand as a testament to the good, the bad, AND the ugly. The recorded history of theatre criticism, the endless trail of reviews from here to Boston to Skowhegan down to Baton Rouge and all the way over to Lincoln, is the map that allows us to trace ourrselves back to our roots - that allows us to compare our interpretation of Hamlet to Barrymore’s rendition and everyone that came before him. Obviously there were many more footprints in time from the English and Roman and Greek Theatre, but I’m just focusing on American Theatre.
Now I bring this up in my continued quest to put the contemporary theatre critic’s feet to the fire and demand quality. For you, LA Theatre Critic, are the blacksmith forging our fiery footprints in time. So please, take care, understand your place in history, come prepared, and feel the awe.
Thank you.
13May2008
Posted by Colin Mitchell under: ponderings.
This is a topic that gathered some steam on the Big Cheap Theatre site a few years ago and actually led to a couple of meetings and some interesting ideas, that unfortunately, never took root, nor bore fruit. It’s a little off-topic from reviewers and critics, but it includes them on the periphery…
The idea is the notion of a consortium of professional Los Angeles theatres called “Off-Hollywood”, similar to New York’s Off-Broadway, funded by the Hollywood Studio system. An independent community that in many ways could serve as a “farm system” if you will, for the Studios to pluck quality actors, writers, directors and designers from and feed into their films.
Huh?
That’s right. A theatre system funded by Hollywood? Yup. It’s not that far-fetched. In the early Studio days practically all of the talent came from the theatre, all I’m suggesting is that the Studios start culling the herd, if you will, of our already-busy theatre community, selecting what they deem to be the best of the best, or at least a company that bulges with potential, and then dedicate maybe a tenth of a tenth of their budget to that company and companies and then leave them alone.
Why would they do this? Simple: to nurture the present and future generation of talent. Why wouldn’t they just put more money into film schools or create their own development programs? Well, here’s where it get a little tricky. Someone would have to prove to them, by using that good old bottom line - profits - that their investment in Off-Hollywood was paying dividends.
Al Pacino, Dustin Hoffman, Paul Newman, Sam Mendes, Mike Nichols. Meryl Streep, Will Ferrell, what do they all have in common? They got their start in theatre.
I’m going to continue to develop this idea in future posts, but just wanted to get it going here. Let me leave you with this: What would be the point of Off-Hollywood? Quality. It would continue to cull away that 75% of LA theatre that drives audiences AWAY from coming back, and would continue to nurture that 25% of LA theatre that keeps them COMING back. There will always be a need for Off-off Hollywood, just like there is a need for Off-off-Broadway, but let’s target the best before we deal with the rest.
Can you imagine an LA Theatre community of working professionals that could just focus on honing their craft and not have to spend all of their energy surviving, or marketing themselves. The marketing would occur on the stage.
I can imagine that community.
9May2008
Posted by Colin Mitchell under: ponderings.
Ran across this excellent article at Hippo Press in my cyber travels. Seems to cover a lot of this ground much better than I do. And it also quotes all sorts of notable contemporary critics who actually know what they’re talking about…or at least SOUND like they know what they’re talking about. Also some great quotes from some great quotables like this:
“Rousuck quoted Goethe’s three questions for the critic: What is an artist trying to do? How well did he or she do it, and was it worth doing?”
Seems like any critic worth their salt should tuck those questions under their belt each time they walk into a theatre.
8May2008
Posted by Colin Mitchell under: ponderings.
Back in the day, when print was profound and eloquence was…well…eloquent…playwrights and critics used to have running…er…well…”feuds”. I’m going to call them “conversations” for the sake of civility. A play would open, the critic would publish their review in the paper, if the playwright didn’t agree he would post a letter or a commentary in same paper and a “conversation” would begin. Others would join in and a freakin’ “discussion” would break out! Or maybe even an “argument” God forbid!
Now in many cases, many of these conversations were instigated by hidden agendas, personal animosity, or just grandiose egos, but they stirred debate, they made the idea of theatre a communal experience, something that the general public could watch from a safe distance, or partake in, get riled up about, or go and see for themselves what all the ruckus was about.
Do we have these conversations with the critics anymore? I would say, not much. On occasion you’ll see an artistic director or a producer and maybe even a director from time to time, post a “letter to the editor” calling out a critic or an editor, but rarely do you find the playwright entering the fray.
Why is this?
I would say for one reason and one reason only; fear of looking like a sore loser. I have been in this situation on a couple of occasions. One in particular: I had a play entitled “Bitten by a Fly” which had a nice run several years ago, got Pick of the Week in LA Weekly and a nice review in the Times, but the review from Backstage and Variety were, to put it mildly, puzzling. Backstage was pretty much a wash because the reviewer obviously had no clue what they were talking about - and was of that variety I’ve described before who spends the first paragraph talking about the parking and the “scary” neighborhood - so there wasn’t much to do there - except perhaps ask the Backstage Editors why they’d decided to cull their reviewers from the audience of the “Barney the Dinosaur” TV Show. But the Variety review…well that was another matter.
I can’t offhand remember who the reviewer was, but I believe he was one of the more “senior” critics, one of the guys you really wanted to come and review your show. I believe the headline of the review was “Fly Bitten by Implausibility.” And he went on to say how “unbelievable” and “implausible” the whole premise was. Ladies and gentlemen, the play was about a famously self-centered but incredibly successful painter who gets bitten by a fly carrying a rare disease that causes her to lose her sight and then winds up being haunted by the fly who is a fallen angel seeking to gain his own redemption. It’s called “magical-realism.” The entire style of the piece was based on implausibility. It was almost like the reviewer thought they were watching something else, and episode of “Grey’s Anatomy,” hoping, praying, that the fly being represented by an actual man on stage would wind up being just a part of a dream. Never before did I so want to call this gentleman out on his absolute failure to grasp even the basic concept of my play. Tear it to pieces for its failure to fulfill the premise, shred it for its lack of dimensionality in the characters, take it task for being overwritten, predictable, anything! But call a magical-realism play “implausible” is like saying a baseball game didn’t have enough touchdowns.
But I didn’t continue the conversation, because I didn’t want to look like a sore loser, and also - and I know this may sound bizarre after everything I’ve written here on Bitter Lemons - I didn’t really care what he thought. His was just one man’s opinion. The majority of regular folk liked my show. I wanted the review to bring in the majority. THOSE are the opinions that matter most to me - the “regular folk”. There is nothing sweeter than someone who NEVER goes to theatre seeing your show and saying, “Wow. That was really good. When’s your next show?”
But the reviewers help us get those “regular folk” in the seats. Word of mouth is probably more powerful than a good review - but they are both important to have for success.
But the conversation never happened in my case. And it should have. Who knows, the reviewer probably would never have even responded. But that is not my point. My point is this: we, be it playwrights, directors, actors, producers, or just theatre-goers, should be unafraid in engaging in civil discourse with the critic. And the critic should not be afraid either.
That in the end is what I’m trying to get to today: the review is simply the beginning of the conversation. Not the end. For far too long we’ve forgotten that. Time to wake up.
8May2008
Posted by Lemon-Aid under: review.
LA TIMES
By Charles McNulty, Times Theater Critic
A Noise Within knows the soul of Tennessee Williams’ ‘The Night of the Iguana.’
If the test of a successful revival is communicating a play’s essence, A Noise Within’s production of “The Night of the Iguana” should be heartily applauded. The deep spiritual grappling that animates Tennessee Williams’ drama is soul shaking, though the staging itself, it must be said, could be less rocky.
Ibsen once observed, “To live is to battle with trolls in heart and mind; to write is to sit in judgment on oneself.” And that is exactly what Williams achieves with the painfully complex Rev. Shannon (Geoff Elliott), a character struggling to discover a more authentic morality in the wake of his umpteenth nervous breakdown.
The year is 1940, and a whiff of apocalypse is in the air. “Locked out” of his church for committing “fornication and heresy,” Shannon survives by giving bus tours to rigidly pious American ladies.
Battling alcoholism and his own carnal weaknesses, he’s leading a virulently demanding sightseeing group through Mexico.
Judith Fellowes (Julia Silverman, humorously channeling a bureaucratic Margaret Hamilton) assumes the role of Shannon’s foil on the trip.
A rabid moralizer (and possibly a closeted lesbian), she is determined that Charlotte (Courtney DeCosky), the flirty teenager she’s taken a protective interest in, not end up in the “defrocked” reverend’s bed again.
Maxine (Deborah Strang), the lusty manager of a bohemian inn on a tropical hilltop, where the Baptist tourists take an unwelcome detour, is earthiness personified.
A recent widow, she looks longingly on her handsome old friend Shannon, wondering if they could perhaps navigate the fearsome slope of middle age together. Sure, this minister’s mind might be a haunted castle, but Maxine believes she’s woman enough to banish its demons.
Hannah Jelkes (Jill Hill), a penniless New England painter traveling with her decrepit 97-year-old poet father (Tom Fitzpatrick), has no desire to redeem Shannon for herself. Rebuffing his tentative advances, this wandering spinster offers him instead the chance to embrace his vulnerable humanity by liberating a captured iguana, which is being fattened for slaughter.
The production, directed by Michael Murray, has a refreshing clarity, though it’s not always gracefully staged. Scenic designer Sara Ryung Clement does an impressive job of creating the public space of the hotel, but the back of the set, where the guest rooms are supposed to be, is too sketchily defined for the show’s lumbering logistics.
The performances, while consistently attention-grabbing, are often strained. It’s as though the theatrical volume is continually being cranked up in a way that threatens to blow the speakers — a problem that could have been corrected with suppler leadership.
Still, Williams’ desperate candor and lush lyricism shine through.
Elliott doesn’t allow Shannon’s madness many pianissimo moments — the lunatic clamor is unrelenting — but he communicates the boisterous inner turmoil of someone who has been looking for God in all the wrong places.
Strang, who brings a coffee-like pungency to Maxine, nicely bridges the gap between the bawdy and the tender. And although Hill’s Hannah comes off as a bit too young and stiffly mannered, the scene in which she helps Shannon find the stamina to endure his suffering has all the healing poignancy we seek from Williams’ fugitive worlds.
LA CITY BEAT
By Don Shirley
The last of Tennessee Williams’s great plays salutes the humanity of life’s also-rans, just as they’re running out of options in a seductive outpost on the Mexican Pacific coast. None of them has given up yet – witness the anguished desperation of Geoff Elliott’s ex-Rev. Shannon, the powerful lunge for sensual consolation by Deborah Strang’s recently widowed Maxine, and the hardy persistence of Jill Hill’s spinster Hannah Jelkes, who’s accompanied by her nonagenarian grandfather (Evidence Room regular Tom Fitzpatrick in a crystalline A Noise Within debut). In contrast to L.A.’s last noteworthy Iguana revival, director Michael Murray’s impeccable staging restores the subsidiary characters of a trio of German tourists, who cheer from afar as London burns (it’s 1940). They offer an oblique commentary on Hannah’s credo that nothing human disgusts her – unless it’s violent or unkind.
7May2008
Posted by Colin Mitchell under: ponderings.
Okay, this is a wee bit after the fact, but I’ve been wanting to mention it to ANYONE and EVERYONE ever since I heard about it - and actually HAVE to the annoyance of my closest friends - as a perfect example of the degradation of theatre criticism in Los Angeles. I’m referring to the 2007 Los Angeles Drama Critics Circle (LADCC) Awards - and more specifically - to Circle X’s Production of Love Loves a Pornographer garnering the 2007 LADCC Best Play Award.
Now, before I really dig in here, a couple of disclaimers: I don’t know the playwright Jeff Goode personally and I am utterly unfamiliar with any of his other work which I’m sure is brilliant; I’m also, for the most part, a big fan of Circle X’s work and find them to be one of the most entertaining and theatrically adventurous companies in LA.
Okay, that’s done.
I walked out of Love Loves a Pornographer. And I never, repeat, NEVER walk out of theatre - no matter how grating and insufferable it may be. Mostly, because I can almost always find something to like in a show, or at least, to amuse myself in a show, no matter how horrendous. Sometimes a show’s essential “horrendousness” is all I need to entertain myself. But I walked out on Love Loves a Pornographer. And then when I read it had won Best Play from LADCC, the supposed, “critical body of record” for Los Angeles - I was stunned. For a second. And then my cynic-engine kicked back in and I said to myself, “And people wonder why LA theatre isn’t taken seriously?”
Now again, I apologize to everyone involved with the show for my rather general dismissal, to be honest, the set was exquisite (almost worth sitting through the second act), and a couple of the performaces were pretty good, but the writing was awful in my opinion, and the direction even worse; a farce of a farce, no dramatic through-line, sub plots brought up and discarded, tone shifting willy nilly, jokes staid and predictable, no real movement to the action, characters like cardboard cut-outs, just a mess. And it wasn’t just me noticing this. I have a handful of friends who saw the show on separate occasions and concur wholeheartedly with my opinion. To a man. And a woman.
So how the hell did this play win 2007 Best Play from LADCC?
Madeline Shaner, the critic, mentioned in an earlier post here at Bitter Lemons, that she considered LADCC to be the only “legitimate body of critics in L.A”, and that all of its members were ”accomplished theatre people”. So how then am I supposed to take this supposedly “legitimate” and “accomplished” theatre organization seriously when they reward mediocrity? And how the hell is anyone else supposed to take them seriously? How are theatre towns like New York and Chicago and Seattle supposed to take US seriously when we heap accolades on such obviously flawed theatre?
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe most people liked the show. Maybe it says more about me than it does about the LA theatre community at large. Maybe you think I’m just full of sour grapes? Maybe. All that said, I of course congratulate Jeff and Circle X for their accomplishment, and always, always, wish nothing but success on everyone who toils in this business of ours, but I stand by what I’ve written. And I would love to hear from those who saw the show and have the balls to offer their honest opinion. If we’re going to be a real theatre community we have to be able to have real honest discussions about the quality of our work and the quality of our critics’ work. I know that’s a difficult thing to embrace in a town like Los Angeles, a town that overtly rewards shimmer, shine and the art of the pose, but it has to be done if we want to grow up as a theatre town. And I would especially like to hear from those LADCC members who committed this travesty.
It’s funny. The more I write on this blog, the more I realize how much I’m setting myself up to be destroyed by the critics the next time I mount one of my plays. Oh well. One never grows in this world without a certain level of risk.
Maybe it’ll actually get ‘em out to the show next time.
6May2008
Posted by Colin Mitchell under: ponderings.
The million dollar question: How do you get ‘em in the seats?
Quality production, topical subject matter, spectacle, controversy, established theatre, name actors, great reviews, word of mouth, creative marketing, heavy advertising.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes and yes.
And even with all of those elements humming at their highest pitch, they still might not come. This is Los Angeles after all, folks. So what is the Los Angeles Theatre artist supposed to do? And how does this relate to the theatre critic? I’m glad you asked.
Let’s for a moment assume that there is a finite number of people who could actually be called the “Los Angeles Theatre Audience,” or to put it more succinctly - and quaintly - LATA. This is the hardcore pool of Los Angeles theatre. The ones who see live theatre regularly. Who read the reviews, keep an ear to the pavement, catch the hot shows, know the regularly produced playwrights, the hottest actors, the innovative directors, the companies making waves, these are the people who’d rather pay money to see theatre than movies. They are a unique bunch and they are, most definitely, my friends, a LIMITED number of people. But they are the people we want to connect with. In many cases, they are us.
So for the sake of argument, let’s say LATA consists of about 10,000 people. You might find this number miniscule for a city of about 6 to 8 million. Well, it is. I have no idea if it’s accurate, but it feels about right. LATA is this tiny pool of people that LA Theatre recycles in and out of their theatres. The more I work and see shows in this town, the more it makes me feel like this “smallish” number might be right. Certainly there are probably another 10,000 out there that SOMETIMES go see theatre, or only see stuff at the Taper or Pasadena Playhouse or the Geffen, but they are NOT LATA. They are a provincial lot that stick to THEIR confines, eat at THEIR restaurants, go to THEIR theatres, THEIR cinemas - if you spend your energy going after them - you will more than likely fail. Unless of course you ARE them. But that’s a topic for another day…
Okay. So how do you get LATA to come see YOUR show as opposed to the fifty other productions going on at the same time? And how does the critic help in this endeavor? Three fundamental questions. And they have to be answered by BOTH the theatre artist AND the theatre critic:
Know your audience
Know your place
Know your self
What does this mean practically?
Okay, say you are a struggling stand-up comedian living in Van Nuys who wants to find a path onto a sitcom. Fine. you write a breezy comedy, rent a theatre on Magnolia or Lankershim, try to get some reviewers down, get a good review, go after some TV execs, some agents, some producers who think your play has pilot potential and go from there. But don’t try and put on a Hamlet set in Los Angeles with your funny pals and then get pissed when you get panned by serious theatre critics and your friends who DO come then never want to talk to you again.
Know your audience
Know your place
Know your self
Okay. Now say you’re a expatriate from Seattle who had an up and coming theate company but outgrew the city, came to LA because the costs of producing were better and saw an emerging audience hungry for quality, innovation and provocation. Fine. Go see shows. Gauge the temperature of the community. Gather like-minded individuals. Find a cohesive vision that taps into the zeitgeist of the community. Find a play that speaks to that vision. Raise the money, put it up. And sound the trumpets as loudly and as confidently as you can that YOU HAVE ARRIVED. And then be prepared for no one to show. Adjust. And do it again. And again. And again. Make a name for yourself. Carve a niche.
Know your audience
Know your place
Know your self
And what about the critic? Do they know their audience? Do they know LATA? Do they know what they want? What issues they are dealing with? Are they in touch with the world around them? The traffic, the struggles, the housing crisis, the weather, the cost of theatre? Is the critic immersed in their own community? Do they want their community to succeed?
As I’ve said many times before, when I first came to LA in the early 90’s, 90% of the theatre being produced was awful - the kind that made people NEVER want to come back, including me. Luckily I’d seen enough quality theatre and was discerning enough and so I was able to survive that drought. Some fifteen years later I’d say that percentage is down to about 75%. Not great, but not bad. 25% of theatre in LA is very good, as good as or better than any theatre going on in the country. And 10% of that is verging on brilliance and probably outdoes anything being done in America. That’s something to be proud of, something to build on. But we need everyone to know this, understand this, be a part of this.
And then we need to trumpet it as loudly as we can.
THAT’S where you, the critic, comes in. You’ve got a louder trumpet than we do. Play it wisely.
Know your audience
Know your place
Know yourself
Damn, I was just gonna talk about marketing today.