The Conversation

Photo: Steven Shaw and Meredith Bishop in "Breaking and Entering." Credit: Ed Krieger

So the first gauntlet has been thrown by the inimitable Steven Leigh Morris of the LA Weekly. Read his review of my play “Breaking and Entering” here.

As an experiment I’m going to “review” and respond all the press on my play to try and show how a productive, civil discourse can occur between the theatre artist, the critic and the theatre audience. If any one chooses to respond to my response, that is of course up to them. The reviewer certainly doesn’t need to, they’ve offered their opinion and it stands for itself. One might say, “You’ve written your play, let it stand for itself.” Well, I do. And I will. But in my attempts over the last year here at Bitter Lemons to help raise the standard of theatre criticism and quality of Los Angeles theatre, it seems that a healthy, honest, objective dialogue between this triumvirate is essential.

So let us begin. First off I want to thank Steven, as always, for his time, energy, honesty, and most of all his support. Okay, let’s take the gloves off now.

If I were to rate this particular review (and I will later when more come in) under the Lemon Meter rating system, it would have to be a BITTERSWEET. It’s not a straight up rave and it’s not a full on pan. If I could summarize, it appears that Steven mostly liked my play but thought it wasn’t getting the staging it deserved. He didn’t care much for one of the actors and had problems with the direction. So, BITTERSWEET.

I can’t really address his opinions on the actor or staging at the moment. There are some in-school issues that would quickly become out of school talk, and I don’t want to contribute to that at the moment. At a later time I will, as they raise interesting questions for the theatre community at large.

I will say, however, that from what I’ve heard, the night Steven saw the show – last Thursday – it was not a very good show. Second night, low energy, lines dropped, just off the rails from moment one. I went to opening night Wednesday and Friday and they were more solid shows. Nevertheless, everything is timing. As the saying goes, you gotta bring it every night if you want to compete. So no excuses.

Okay. Here’s how Steven starts his review; he gives a quick set up of the play then leads out with this:

It’s a marathon game of absurdist proportions, broadcast by commentators (Lary Ohlson and Chrstopher Gehrman), who appear periodically behind a translucent screen built into Jeff G. Rack’s gothic living room set. One of the commentators is – perhaps too coincidentally — a Trumbullophile, liberally peppering his sports commentary with Trumbullisms that understandably annoy his on-air partner, since the witticisms are not particularly witty or relevant. Such is the idiosyncratic humor of Colin Mitchell’s comedy-mystery.

Steven says it’s “perhaps too coincidentally” then closes with “such is the idiosyncratic humor”. Well, you can’t have it both ways. The “coincidence” was obviously intentional, something I HOPED would create the “idiosyncratic” humor. At least as far as the announcers role in the play was concerned. Steven knows full well that there are no coincidences in a play. At least not in a GOOD play. Perhaps he likes his coincidences a little bit more embedded and hard to see. Fair enough. But for the use of this play, it was purely intentional.

Steven continues:

The play is a touch too schematic: Milly breaks in bearing an original manuscript of her own novel, which she hopes to get Trumbull to read. That there is no copy of her opus (which is really a prophetic book of revelations telling the story of her break-in) is used in one of the play’s many intriguing plot twists. I didn’t believe that she’d bring her only version to a stranger’s house and offer to leave it there, no matter how famous the guy is. If she were fibbing about that detail in order to up the ante, I’m not convinced the savvy Trumbull would have believed it either.

He calls the play a “touch too schematic”. Well, it’s comedy-mystery, as he says (by the way Steven thanks for realizing this play is a COMEDY, some have missed that), all mysteries are schematic. Usually plot heavy, very structured, everything means something, every twist has a turn, every random string is connected down the line. Such is the case with my play for the most part. His “too schematic” offering leads me to believe that again, he’d rather intricacies of the story were perhaps less apparent?

Now on the second part of that paragraph above Steven actually misses something crucial to the story. Let me tell, it’s easy to do with this play. The play is dense, as in filled with information, flowing with details and exposition and characters who don’t live on the stage. So the “miss” is forgivable. What Steven missed is that MIlly didn’t INTEND on breaking into the house. She had merely come by to pay her vigil to Trumbull’s home as she’d done many times before. And then the power went out and then Wallace came to the window and left it open. She saw her opportunity and she took it. It just so happened that she had finished her novel that morning and had it in her bag. Perhaps a “touch too schematic” and “perhaps too coincidentally” but then again that’s how things happen sometimes don’t they?

I once had a copy of a screenplay that I’d written for Edward Norton in my bag, while waiting at a bus stop Edward Norton came out of a restaurant, I muscled my way through his friends and handed him my screenplay. These opportunities are rare, sometimes you just have to grab them. Milly does.

Steven continues:

This is a tiny but significant detail in a very clever play that grapples and compares dueling themes: reality and illusion, fame and fraud. The play sparks and shines when it reaches the intersection of these two ideas, but the road to that intersection is a bumpy one.

The most glowing comment on the play – so thank you for that, Steven – but he says the road is a “bumpy one.” Fair enough. I intentionally wanted the rising acting in this play to be more of a spiraling lif, like shooting up through a tornado, rather than a smooth, straight-lined one. So if that’s “bumpy” to Steven, then I succeeded. Chaos and unraveling were what I was after. Most mysteries follow a rise, plateau, rise, plateau, as their tension and stakes escalate, I didn’t want any plateau-ing. Again, it seems that Steven is more of a fan of the refined and perhaps traditional dramatic structure. Fair enough. Not in this play, however.

Moving on:

This may have less to do with the writing, and more to do with Mark L. Taylor’s staging, with the way Shaw’s tentative performance is juxtaposed against Bishop’s sometimes grating impudence and indignance. Bishop’s Milly may be more clever than we’d thought, but she’s also more annoying than we’d anticipated. I’m guessing a more accomplished production would be of greater service to Mitchell’s intricate play.

I have to disagree with most of this. I especially think Bishop’s performance is quite good. And Taylor’s staging is solid as well. As I said, earlier, it wasn’t a well executed show, so some of this may have been a result of that lack of execution. To put it another way, if an actor gets lost, or loses his lines, the staging is going to suffer as a result.

But again, I appreciate Steven trying to treat my play with respect, his “I’m guessing a more accomplished production would be of greater service to Mitchell’s intricate play” is a sign of great respect and appreciation for my play. Again, thanks.

That’s it. The first of many conversations to come.

Oh, and Steven, a little challenge: send some of your other LA Weekly reviewers and see if they have the same reaction. I think you’ll be surprised.

Actually, I’m expecting a lot mixed press for this play. It’s a hard one to swallow at time. Your laughing your ass off at one moment, and the next you’re almost feeling guilty for laughing. There were actually audible “gasps” at certain moments during the performances I attended. And that is nothing but soul-food for a playwright’s ears.