Showing posts with label New York City. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New York City. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

A New Orson Welles Silent Film Comedy!

Orson Welles directing Too Much Johnson in lower Manhattan around 1938.
[post 333]

Huh? Orson Welles? The guy whose "first film" Citizen Kane made movie history in 1941?

Yep.

It was reported today that an early effort by Welles, Too Much Johnson, has been recovered in Italy and is currently being restored. The 40 minutes of footage shot in 1938 was to be shown as part of a live theatrical performance, an early mixed-media event. The show closed out of town, the editing of the film was never quite completed, and what was thought to be the only copy was lost in a fire. But here's the intriguing part, at least for this blog. According to the NY Times...

Each act of the play... was to begin with a film segment. The first (and most nearly completed in the rediscovered print) was a chase across Lower Manhattan shot in the style of a silent comedy, complete with Keystone Kop-like pursuers, a suffragist parade to barrel through and Cotten tottering on the edge of a skyscraper like Harold Lloyd in “Safety Last.”

We'll have to wait until October for the first screening, but you can read the whole article here.




Wednesday, September 12, 2012

"Chaplin" Gets Clobbered by the Critics

[post 277]

In my last post, I praised Rob McClure in the title role of Chaplin: The Musical but worried about the rest of the show — books, music, choreography, all those incidentals — being strong enough to justify Broadway prices. I was expecting lukewarm reviews but obviously I was way too optimistic. When I saw the word "soppy" in the second sentence of the NY Times review, I knew the show was in trouble.

Reviews are often all over the place, but so far these have been remarkably consistent: Mc Clure was great but under-utilized, while the show itself was flat and unimaginative, with the music and lyrics especially disappointing. A few sample critiques:

Ben Brantley, New York Times:
"Chaplin made it clear that he had little use for most interpretations of his psyche, whether high-brow (via Freud or W. Somerset Maugham) or low (the gutter press and fan magazines). So I shudder to think what he might have made of the psychiatrist’s couch he’s been plopped on for Chaplin: The Musical....

"Mr. McClure... does a lovely impersonation of the Little Tramp that captures the heartbreaking grace in that character’s embattled dignity. Delivering the anguished lines of the self-destructive egotist that Chaplin became, he perversely tends to fade into the gray. This may be a mercy, given the lines he has to say. It’s hard not to sympathize with the character who tells him, 'I miss the days when you didn’t speak.'”
Full review here



Associated Press (from the Washington Post, name of writer not provided):
"The new musical Chaplin opens with the sight of the Little Tramp balanced on a tightrope high above the stage. It’s a fitting metaphor for the show itself — a wobbly, high stakes attempt to avoid gravity. Guess what happens? Gravity wins.

"What opened Monday at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre tries hard to be something to everyone and in the process becomes less than anything. The great Charlie Chaplin deserves better... It’s technically a musical, but one without a single memorable song.... Save for one sublime scene in which the various inspirations behind Chaplin’s decision to embody the Little Tramp is revealed, the show McClure leads is equal parts flat, overwrought and tiresome." 
Full review here


Photo by Joan Marcus.
Joe Dziemianowicz, NY Daily News:
"In the musical Chaplin, sets and costumes come in black and white. Unfortunately, so does the storytelling in this cut-and-dried bio about the complicated silent-film legend Charlie Chaplin.... The way Chaplin stands now, it’s modestly entertaining. But in a story in which Chaplin often talks about the magic of the flickers, one yearns for more flickers of magic."
Full review here


Elysa Gardner, USA Today:
"Even while trumpeting Chaplin's accomplishments, the musical reduces one of the most distinctive talents of the 20th century to a sentimental figure largely defined by his relationships with women... Luckily, there are moments of levity and more direct nods to Chaplin's artistic inspiration, and director/choreographer Warren Carlyle serves both with a deft mix of passion and playfulness."
Full review here

The weeklies will be weighing in during the next few days and once they do you should be able to see all the reviews at stagegrade.com. I have a feeling, though, that if you want to catch Mc Clure's performance, aim to get there sooner rather than later.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Chaplin: The Musical


[post 276] 

Thursday night I caught a preview performance of Chaplin: The Musical, a new Broadway show starring newcomer Rob McClure that was first developed at the La Jolla Playhouse under the title Limelight: The Story of Charlie Chaplin. That first draft did not get particularly good reviews, but that was a couple of years ago.

It's been a breakthrough year for physical comedy in the mass entertainment world. First The Artist wins five Academy Awards, including best picture, best director, and best actor. And last weekend One Man, Two Guvnors concluded a pretty much sold-out run on Broadway, with James Corden's comic servant of two masters beating out Philip Seymour Hoffman's battered salesman, Willy Loman, for the Tony best actor award.

Could a trifecta be in the works?

Chaplin: The Musical opens this Monday, and while it may not sound like sure-fire Broadway fare, no one predicted those other two pieces to appeal to such a wide audience either. And the book is by Thomas Meehan, whose name I didn't know but probably should, since he's won three Tony Awards — for mega hits Hairspray, The Producers, and Annie (the latter re-opening on Broadway next month).

 Here's a promo:
 

 Of all the usual preview articles, this one from the NY Times about Rob McClure's preparations for the role is the best. It actually talks about the movement and physical comedy elements:


Here's an excerpt:

The show demands a veritable comedy decathlon of stunts, spills and specialty bits. “There’s been a bit of a Chaplin boot camp, with tightrope and roller-skating and violin lessons,” Mr. McClure said, in a tone more of exhilaration than complaint. “Every time I think, ‘Oh God, how am I going to learn all this?,’ I remember he did it. Chaplin did it all.” Mr. McClure said. “But once you put on the hat and the mustache and the cane, you can’t screw with that. You need to get that right, because anybody who cares about this coming in is looking for something very specific.”  

Mr. McClure became a detective of Chaplin’s film performances, studying them not only for how-to's but why-to's. “When I was first working on the Little Tramp shuffle, I noticed he would have these little bursts of energy, so as he’s waddling, a shoulder will pop or a knee will kick out,” Mr. McClure said. 

To go beyond mere imitation, he kept watching and eventually struck gold. A particular moment in Chaplin’s film The Circus caught Mr. McClure’s eye. “The Tramp gets turned down by a woman, and as he waddles away, the shoulder and the knee go,” Mr. McClure recalled. “I realized he’s brushing it off,” with each twitch essentially saying, “Shake it off, shake it off, Charlie.” Mr. McClure came to understand that Chaplin “had a physical vocabulary that was ultimately specific. Nothing was for silliness alone.”

You can read the whole article here.

So how was it? (you might be asking)

It was entertaining, it was solid, it was sentimental, it offered a lot for your money — assuming that like me you buy half-price tickets — and it got an enthusiastic standing ovation from Thursday night's sold-out audience. I have no idea if it will get the kind of reviews and buzz essential to a long Broadway run, but will let you know in a week or so once all of the notices are in.

For me the show's main challenge is in compressing Chaplin's long and tumultuous life into two hours of plot. With movie biopics we often end up getting a cartoon version of a genius' life that rarely penetrates the nature of that genius, and this musical is no exception. His uniqueness is simply his "talent," and it doesn't get much deeper than that. Characters are combined, events oversimplified. Chaplin's penchant for teenage girls and the political witch hunt that drove him out of the country are treated rather superficially. As history it's ultimately unsatisfying, though the results can still be entertaining. Think Barnum — a big hit that played a lot more loosely with the facts than does Chaplin. But Barnum had better songs than Chaplin, which I have a feeling will be another factor dampening the critics' enthusiasm.

The opening curtain

The choreography of Warren Carlyle (Follies; Hugh Jackman), who also directed, does a decent job  of infusing the whole show with some nice bits. As in so many Chaplin films, the onstage world is a topsy-turvy place where bottles, canes, plates, wine glasses, chairs, and roller skates all lead a precarious existence and equilibrium cannot be taken for granted.  Large-scale dance numbers that stick in my mind are the Chaplin impersonation contest, the Hall of Mirrors (from The Circus), the Mack Sennett pie fight, and the assembly line of ladies based on the factory scene in Modern Times, though I thought the first two of these could have been developed more.

And was Rob McClure up to the task of impersonating Chaplin?

Yes, very much so. He can act and he can even sing, but he's at his best when in motion. He's picked up some solid skills — though (unlike Chaplin in The Circus) he is tethered for the wirewalking segments. In terms of movement, at least to my eye McClure nails the Little Tramp character and, if anything, I kept wishing they would give him juicier comedy material to impress with. The guy deserves his own show stopper and the musical needs more belly laughs. But all in all, a kinetic and intelligent performance, and you physical comedians out there need no other reason to try to catch this show. As a whole, Chaplin: The Musical does not totally dazzle, but Mc Clure is worth the price of admission. 

Sunday, February 26, 2012

"One Man, Two Guvnors" Coming to Broadway

[post 245]


I wasn't in London at the right time to see the smash hit, One Man, Two Guvnors, but that didn't stop me from writing about it in this post, and I did subsequently catch a broadcast of it here in NYC as part of the National Theatre Live program. The title of that post was "Commedia Conquers London —  Is Broadway Next?" and the answer is yes! — it begins its Broadway run on April 6th. Finally I'll get to see it live on stage, and I'm hoping many of you will too. Highly recommended!!

You can read the whole NY Times article here.

Click here for a London Guardian article on the show's chances of becoming a Broadway hit.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

See Every Show You Ever Missed!! — The TOFT Archive

[post 215]



Okay, so I exaggerate ever so slightly, but I do want you all to know about TOFT, the Theatre on Film & Tape Archive at the NY Public Library for the Performing Arts, which I mentioned in my previous post. Located at Lincoln Center, it is definitely something to be grateful for this Thanksgiving!

Even if you live in New York, you're going to miss a lot of "must-see" shows for one reason or another. And then there are the shows that you would love the chance to see again, to study from a professional perspective, rewinding and replaying key sequences.

Well, your prayers are answered:

Since 1970, TOFT has preserved live theatrical productions and documented the creative contributions of distinguished artists and legendary figures of the theatre. With the consent and cooperation of the theatrical unions and each production's artistic collaborators, TOFT produces video recordings of Broadway, Off-Broadway, and regional theatre productions as well as dialogues between notable theatre personalities.

You heard it right. Thousands of theatre shows — and it's free!

Take for example that famous 1988 Mike Nichols production of Waiting for Godot at Lincoln Center starring Steve Martin, Robin Williams, F. Murray Abraham, and Bill Irwin. I was teaching at Juilliard at the time, so I was lucky to get to see it. Most people didn't, however, including a lot of angry Lincoln Center subscribers; the theatre was too small, the run too short. But all is not lost: the show was videotaped and you can sit and watch it, over and over again if you like, just by visiting the library.

And speaking of Bill Irwin, let's use his work as an example. Here's a partial list of videos featuring him available at TOFT:

1981: Bill Irwin Sketches
1981: Not Quite / New York
1982: Regard of Flight
1984: Accidental Death of an Anarchist (Fo)
1985: The Courtroom
1987: As Seen on TV
1988: Waiting for Godot (Bill as Lucky)
1989: Largely New York
1992: Texts for Nothing (Beckett)
1993: Fool Moon
1995: The Tempest
1996: Dialogue with Bill Irwin and David Shiner
1997: Scapin (Molière)
1998: A Flea in Her Ear (Feydeau; directed by Bill)
2003: The Harlequin Studies
2004: Mr. Fox—A Rumination
2004: Bill Irwin, Clown Prince (documentary)
2005: Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
2009: Waiting for Godot (Bill as Vladimir)

This list is partial because the online catalog is not complete, and because I've omitted dozens of clips of Bill performing at benefits, tributes, and award ceremonies. But you get the idea.

So let's say you want to use the archive... what do you do?
• Search the archive online first and choose what you want to view
• Call (212-870-1642) and make an appointment; you'll need to tell them your choice of videos
• Go there (no, you can't take out any of these items)

Once there, you can see the larger print catalog, with even more goodies.

Click here for details on using the online catalog. Basically the idea is that you have to search the entire NY Public Library catalog found at http://catalog.nypl.org/search. The items with a call number starting with NCOV, NCOX, or NCOW are available in the TOFT archive.

One catch: the archives are not meant for the general public, but for those doing serious research. No, you don't need to be writing a book. Performers studying performance qualify, but make yourself sound important!

So... what's not to like?

Don't live anywhere near New York? Now you have yet another reason to visit!

Happy Thanksgiving all. Eat too much, but do try to appreciate all the good that's being done by so many on so many fronts!

Friday, November 11, 2011

The Fartiste


[post 210]
Pop Quiz: Name the famous Nobel-Prize winning author who wrote the following in his most celebrated work:

"Who farted?"

No, I am not kidding. And the answer is.... (drum roll, please) ....that's right, Samuel Beckett in Waiting for Godot. Which just goes to show that the gap between high and low art is not always as wide as we may think.

Which brings us to The Fartiste, which opened off-Broadway last week five years after winning Best Musical at the New York International Fringe Festival. It's based on the life of one Joseph Pujol, known to the French public as "Le Pétomane," literally the "farting maniac." Not only was Pujol a real person, but he was the hottest act in Paris circa 1900, launching his singular career at the world-famous Moulin Rouge. A bit of history from the show's program:

One summer’s day in the mid-1860′s, a young French boy named Joseph Pujol had a frightening experience at the seashore. Swimming out alone, he held his breath and dove underwater. Suddenly an icy cold feeling penetrated his gut. Frightened, he ran ashore, but then received a second shock when he noticed seawater streaming from his anus. The boy didn’t know it at the time, but this unsettling experience foretold of a gift that would later make him the toast of Paris and one of the most popular and successful performers of his generation.

Soon he discovered that by contracting his abdomen muscles, he could intentionally take up as much water as he liked and eject it in a powerful stream. Demonstrating this ability back at the barracks later provided the soldiers with no end of amusement, and soon Pujol started to practice with air instead of water, giving him the ability to produce a variety of sounds. It was in the army, that Pujol invented a nickname for himself that would later become a stage name synonymous throughout Europe: Le Petomane

In 1892 Pujol became a headliner at The Moulin Rouge. Pujol dressed formally and presented his routine with an unrelentingly deadpan delivery. He performed imitations, using the simple format of announcing and then demonstrating. He displayed his wide sonic range with tenor, baritone, and bass fart sounds. He imitated the farts of a little girl, a mother-in-law, a bride on her wedding night (tiny), the same bride the day after (loud), and a mason (dry– “no cement”). He imitated thunder, cannons and even the sound of a dressmaker tearing two yards of calico (a full 10-second rip). After the imitations, Le Petomane popped backstage to put one end of a yard-long rubber tube into his anus. He returned and smoked a cigarette from this tube, after which he used it to play a couple of tunes on a song flute. For his finale he removed the rubber tube, blew out some of the gas-jet footlights from a safe distance away, and then led the audience in a rousing sing-along.

No, they are not making that up. And if the act seems freakish and gross to you, keep in mind that Le Pétomane played for many of the crown heads of Europe, including King Leopold of Belgium, not to mention Sigmund Freud, though the latter's interest may have been more clinical.

The only surviving film clip of Pujol is this (silent) half-minute Edison Studios clip from 1900:




So what we have here is a very odd story or, as some reviewers have complained, a too ordinary story about a man with a very odd talent. Admittedly the plot is thin, the story more anecdotal than dramatic, so there's little suspense — "what's going to happen next?" — which makes the dynamics kind of flat. At a certain point, yet another song starts to feel like more of the same thing.



And it is light entertainment, a fact which seems to have escaped one dour critic, who made a point of comparing it unfavorably with Sondheim's Sunday in the Park with George. Give me a break! Did you really go to a show about a master farter expecting to pierce the artistic soul of another Georges Seurat?

Mikhail Baryshnikov poses
with Kevin Kraft; Rachel Kopf;
Analisa Leaming; Lindsay Roginski
I didn't, which is probably why I had such a good time. I got to share a table with Adam (clownlink.com) Gertsacov, Nat (themoonshow.com) Towsen, and the cast of the Reduced Shakespeare Company, and was flanked by two other tables where sat those legendary Mikhail B's. (I refer of course to Bongar and Baryshnikov.) I had two beers, laughed a lot, and enjoyed some strong comic performances.

______________________________________

"Kids enjoy farts. Farts are as funny as hell. Farts are shit without the mess. Look at it that way."  — George Carlin
______________________________________

Kevin Kraft, a former Ringling clown and an actor with impressive credentials, brings Pujol to life with high energy and admirable physical dexterity, coordinating beautifully with "vocal sound effects artist" Steven Scott, who stands downstage right and provides all of the melodious flatulence. It is amazing what this man can do with a microphone! When Pujol performs his masterpiece, a symphony of instruments, the result is a marvelous Kraft-Scott physical comedy duet. The rest of the cast, aided by some witty lyrics, keeps those laughs coming. Character actor Nick Wyman (who is also the president of the Actors Equity union) is very funny as the singing narrator, and Herndon Lackey does a nice double as the producer of the Moulin Rouge and as Toulouse Lautrec. Also effortlessly doubling roles were the three singin', dancin' can-can girls; my favorite was the one who sat on my lap.

Here's some video related to the show.

First, the making of The Fartiste:




Here's the song The Great Pujol, against a background of Pétomane posters:




And here's Steven Scott showing off his remarkable audio talents as part of his stand-up comedy act act:



Some Links:
• The web site for the show
• Sample excerpts from the Fartiste score
• Le Pétomane, a short movie about Pujol, available in five parts on YouTube
• Adam Gertsacov's review on clownlink.com
• New York Post review
BroadwayWorld.com review


Amazing — I made it through this entire post without making a single pun about farting, gas, wind, or asses. A rare display of maturity!

Friday, September 23, 2011

DVD Report: "Learn Slapstick (Get Physically Funny)"

[post 194]

Yep, that's what Wikipedia says: "Physical comedy, also known as slapstick..." And if you go on the Discussions page for their physical comedy entry, you read "I propose this article to be merged with the Slapstick article. There are a lot of information on this article that is much the same in the slapstick article, and hence redundant. In my opinion, the two articles will be more informative and detailed when merged."

I don't have enough time to go around editing Wikipedia, but I couldn't resist replying:

"I disagree. Strongly! Slapstick historically refers to comic violence, and it should be the goal of an encyclopedia to retain these distinctions. The original slapstick, which dates back at least to the commedia dell arte, was a device intended to create maximum noise with minimal striking force: two slats of wood are hinged at one end so that when its trajectory is halted on or near the victim's body, the back slat strikes the front slat, creating a loud smacking sound.

Physical comedy is a broad term that encompasses the predominance of movement in creating laughs — thus "a silly face", one of the three characteristics mentioned in this article, does not belong as a defining term. The term 'Physical comedy" can be equally applied to some or most of the work of Pilobolus, Bill Irwin, Marcel Marceau, Buster Keaton, and Jacques Tati. Very little mock violence in their work."

Which brings me to Christopher Lueck's instructional DVD, Learn Slapstick (Get Physically Funny). We're off to a better start here, because slapstick is clearly defined as "comedy stage combat," and this is meant to include self-inflicted damage, as well it should. Christopher is the main brain behind the New York Monthly Downtown Clown Revue and teaches slapstick here in town at the Slapstick Dojo. The DVD, which runs slightly under 40 minutes, is subtitled Intro to Slapstick and mention is made of more DVDs to come. I first reported on this project in this earlier post. Because I was out of the country, I did not yet have a physical DVD to view. Now that I do, here's a more complete accounting.


The curriculum is oriented towards breaking down the physical technique, and covers the following moves:

Warmups 
Mostly rolling around joints
Five Basic Slaps
• Front slap
• Backhand slap
• Uppercut slap
• Top hit 
• Eye Poke
Trips & Slips
• Front trip
• Back trip
• Front slip
• Back slip
Falls
• Front scissor fall
• Back sit fall
• Back shoulder roll
• Side (crescent) fall
• Plank fall from knees
Chairs
• Finger Slam 
• Face Slam
• Toe Slam
Funny Faces & Double Take

Each of these is broken down into clear steps and demonstrated by Christopher and two assistants, Mariko Iwasa and Steven Maier. The techniques are very basic, what you'd cover in the first few sessions of a hands-on class, but even an experienced physical comedian might pick up a few tips.

To see the approach to teaching, go to the DVD's web site for a sample video on the front trip.

I teach an intro physical comedy class at Bloomfield College to students with little or no performance or movement training, so I decided to show them the DVD at the end of our second class this fall semester. I think they found it useful, especially because they were able to step back and see it done, step by step, without having to be nervous about being called upon to try it themselves right away! However, even though these students are inexperienced, they were observant enough to point out when certain techniques did not look natural and motivated, which was true of a couple of slips and falls.

Overall, the clarity and presentation are good, the emphasis on safety commendable, and Christopher's affable and reassuring tone helps make the material approachable. There is less discussion of comedy than one might like, and the pedagogy does push a certain style of slapstick, which is fine, except that it might give some the impression that this is the only way to go.

That style is more lighthearted and goofy, one that emphasizes intentional silliness over gritty realism, more circus clown than apache dance. In this cheerful style, reactions should register annoyance more than actual pain. Don't get me wrong: this is of course fine. We're not talking good or bad here, just modes. Ultimately it all comes down to the characters and the storyline. There is certainly darker material to be found in the works of such slapstick stalwarts as The Keystone Cops, Charlie Chaplin, and The Three Stooges, whereas Monty Python is often pure silliness. Room enough for both!

One assumption of this style is that it does not matter if we see the performers making the knap (the slapping sound). Here's a short sequence to give you a better idea what I mean:



Again fine, except if you don't learn and practice being able to hide the knap, you'll only be able to do it this way.

All in all, you'll very likely get your $20 worth, so click here to order. But some suggestions for future volumes:
• DVD chapters! This is not a VHS!! We want to be able to go back to a specific technique without scrubbing through the entire presentation!
• More material! 38 minutes is pretty slim for a DVD, even if it's only $20.
• More comedic application. Technique is essential, but it only gets us half way there.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

"Flocked" at the NY Clown-Theatre Festival

[post 188]

Okay, let's be honest, it would be pretty bogus of me to pretend to be objective while reviewing a show (Flocked) that stars two friends of mine (Audrey Crabtree & Gabriela Muñoz) and is directed by a third (Hilary Chaplain), now wouldn't it? On the other hand, I did swear on the Blogopedia Bible to report on all interesting physical comedy in the known universe, so I would risk being consigned to eternal Blog Purgatory were I not to mention the show at all.

Luckily there is a thin razor line of a solution: submit a straight factual report devoid of opinion or human emotion. No problem.

Background:
• Audrey lives in New York City, Gabriela in Mexico City.
• Audrey is tall, or at least taller than Gabriela.
• They met at last year's NYC clown-theatre festival.
• They worked together this spring for a month in Mexico, which you can read more about  here.
• They are planning a Mexico City clown-theatre festival for March 2012.
• A hurricane delayed Gabriela's arrival in NYC.
• Hilary worked with them 29 hours a day since Gaby's arrival.

Photo by Joann Jovinelly

Photo by Joann Jovinelly
Storyline:
Flocked takes the form of a loud and raucous but non-verbal confrontation between two bird-like characters, one sweet and friendly, the other territorial and stand-offish. They communicate through an extensive vocabulary of movement and chirping, sometimes competing with each other through elaborate dances, sometimes through direct or indirect physical contact, in a relationship that continually evolves over the course of the 45-minute piece.

Audience Reaction:
Photo by Joann Jovinelly
Audience laughter was frequent, loud, and sustained. Post-mortem chit-chat was quite positive. Some old guy in the third row especially laughed a lot. This gentleman was heard to comment that when he saw the entertaining 10-minute preview in the opening night cabaret he had wondered if they had enough material for a full-length piece. He was happy to find that it worked even better as a full show because the context was clearer and the character development made it a much richer piece. He was hoping more people would get to see the show before it closes this Sunday (Sept. 11), and said he wished he had a blog or something so he could tell more people about it.

Links:
Another blogger reviews the show
Gabriela's web site.
Audrey's web site.
Hilary's web site.
New York Clown-Theatre Festival
 Joann Jovinelly Flickr album
Jim Moore photos

Thursday, September 8, 2011

The New York Clown-Theatre Festival Opens!

[post 187]

I just got back from the opening night of this century's 6th NY Clown-Theatre Festival, a cabaret hilariously hosted by the Leroy Sisters (Aimee German & Jenny Sargent) and featuring excerpts from most of the performers we'll be seeing in the festival. If this preview was any indication, it's a strong and varied lineup.

Since this is a physical comedy blog, I should hazard a guess as to which shows are the most movement oriented. From what I've seen, my predictions are Flocked (Audrey Crabtree & Gabriela Muñoz), I Have Never Done This Before (Joel Jeske), Wing-Man (Mark Gindick), and Neon Lights (Chris Manley & Jeff Seal). Also worth mentioning, at least from my jaded perspective, is that on September 16th Audrey and I will be co-hosting a series of short clown films. Come see some good work and say hello! And finally, let me recommend the clown workshop, Touching the Space, being conducted by the delightfully funny Mexican clown Gabriela Muñoz on September 12th and 13th.

Neon Lights
Wing-Man











The festival, once again directed by that multi-tasking, hyperactive duo, Robert Honeywell and Audrey Crabtree, runs through September 25th at Williamsburg's Brick Theater, just two subway stops into Brooklyn, and tickets are only $15.

For more info, go to http://bricktheater.com/ and then click on Amuse Bouche.

For some great opening night photos, see this post on Jim Moore's VaudeVisuals blog, as well as this Flickr album by Joann Jovinelly.

Update (Sept. 11, 2011):  Here's a nicely edited video piece on opening night just posted on the LocalTheatreNY.com web site:



Update (Sept. 13): A review of opening night in Brooklyn Exposed by the one and same Joann Jovinelly.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Bargain Bundle: Tumblers, Shakespeare, Abbott & Costello, Subway Cars & Scholarly Tomes

[post 181]

Here's a riddle for you: what do the sticky floors of New York City subway cars and dusty, musty books on Elizabethan drama have in common? For the answer, just read on....

First clue: flash back to last spring. I'm on a crowded E train from JFK airport when a quartet of performers bound onto the train, loudly  announcing their act with no little modesty. More hip-hop popping I'm guessing, ho-hum, which is why I don't bother to whip out my Flip camera. Suddenly these guys burst across the length of the car in a flurry of handsprings and somersaults and some nifty partner moves, all dangerously close to their (truly) captive audience — "if I touch you, I'll give you a dollar." I especially like the peanut rolls (double forward roll holding each other's ankles) because they have to make precise, last-second detours to avoid impaling themselves on the car's vertical poles.

I really didn't think you could do any of that on a standing-room-only subway train bolting along at 40 mph. I was wrong. Unfortunately, at under two minutes, by the time I got my camera out, they were gone. A YouTube search turned up nothing, but inspired by the next act in this post, I searched again yesterday, this time successfully. I still don't know who they are, but this is definitely them.

Because camera angles are a challenge in a subway car, here are two views of the same act:







And then yesterday I noticed a NY Times article on two performers, Paul Marino and Fred Jones, who call themselves Popeye & Cloudy and who are no strangers to subway floors. They have been earning a reputation and a fair amount of loot by doing another form of action drama underground, casting the passengers as groundlings as they perform quick renditions of scenes from Shakespeare, favorites being Romeo's suicide and Macbeth's decapitation. Not only that, but they also throw in some Abbott & Costello as well; yes, Who's on First?



Read the whole article here.

"Not all subway lines are well suited to Shakespeare," writes a reporter for the Wall St. Journal in an earlier article. "The long cars of the N and R trains allow for a bigger audience per scene. And the J,M,Z trains, which cross the Williamsburg Bridge, give riders time to relax for a lengthy performance. Riders who frequent the 4,5 and 6 trains in Manhattan are out of luck: those lines are too crowded for a proper death scene or sword fight, the actors say."

Here's the Popeye & Cloudy website.
Here's that article from the Wall Street Journal and a short WSJ video.




If you want to see more, here's a 12-minute Vimeo video montage that includes some of the Who's on First.


Popeye & Cloudy from Paul Marino on Vimeo.


So speaking of Shakespeare, and hopefully bringing this post full circle, here's some more chapter two material, this time two complete public domain books on the fool characters in Shakespeare's plays.


Studies in the Development of the Fool in the Elizabethan Drama by Olive Mary Busby
Our first dusty, musty book answers that eternal question, "whence came this insistent demand of the English public for the buffooneries of the fool?" Okay, so I exaggerated; it was never published as a book, it's just a 1923 master's thesis. Hard to believe, but it cost money to publish books back in what is now known as the Pre-PDF Era. I'm guessing Olive Mary Busby went to her grave not knowing that this blogopedia would make her famous.

Fools Elizabeth an Drama



The Fools of Shakespeare by Frederick Warde
This 1913 work starts with a chapter on "the fool in life and literature," followed by individual chapters devoted to each of Shakespeare's principal fool characters, including: Yorick, Touchstone, Trinculo, Feste, Launcelot Gobbo, the grave-digger in Hamlet, and the fool in King Lear.
Fools of Shakespeare


That's all I got!

Friday, July 1, 2011

Improv Everywhere: Pranks, Punking & Put-Ons

[post 157]

In the early days of modernism, conceptual artists such as Marcel Duchamp and George Grosz delighted in blurring the line between art and reality. In 1917, Duchamp submitted an upside-down urinal as a work of art, though one obviously lacking in the aesthetic appeal traditionally associated with Art with a capital A. This "found object" was unaltered except for its label. He named it "Fountain." The piece was rejected by the show's curator and was soon lost, yet went on to make art history.

In the 60s came happenings, interactive public events that were part scripted, part improvisatory. Since then, post-modern art movements have continued to explore non-traditional approaches, concocting every variety of performance art that not only acknowledged but constantly referenced its own artificiality.

On television, Candid Camera (first broadcast in 1948!) stayed on the air for more than half a century in various formats and ignited a tradition of filmed practical jokes that are, if anything, even more popular today.

Guerrilla street theatre often went beyond agitprop skits to stage provocative theatrical events. Abbie Hoffman showering the NY Stock Exchange with dollar bills just so the press could witness brokers diving for a few measly bucks was a classic political publicity stunt. Hoffman's "Yippies" (Youth International Party) "became known for mocking the political establishment and the social status quo through pranks and street theater, leading some to refer to them as Groucho Marxists.” Custard pies in the faces of politicians are as popular as ever, and this year has seen a lot of anti-gay politicians getting "glittered" (e.g., Michelle Bachman just two weeks ago).


Now that we live in the post-post-modern era — or is it the post-post-post? I do get confused — pranking has almost become its own art form, with flash mobs a common enough sight in major cities across the globe. The New York City group Improv Everywhere [motto: "we cause scenes"] is perhaps the best known practitioner.

With all of life and all public space as their canvas, it's natural that IE's humor goes beyond mere jokes. Free from the constraints of stage and screen, assisted by an army of volunteers often numbering in the hundreds, they create large-scale events where weird and silly mass behavior — for example, the spontaneous eruption of a splashy Broadway-style musical number in a small fast-food restaurant — is offered up to an unsuspecting public as perfectly normal. Hidden cameras shoot spectator reactions, with YouTube viewers being the real target audience.

The most famous of these is their No Pants Subway Ride, in which groups of commuters enter New York City subways (in the winter!) wearing nothing but underpants on their legs; this has become an annual event that has spread to 48 cities in 22 countries.


The work is aways very visual, usually quite comic, and at times even physical, but is it physical comedy? And is it improv?

The typical IE event is in fact highly structured. Many involve professional actors ("agents"), a script, and rehearsals. In others, volunteers follow precise instructions and engage in synchronized actions. For example, in a series of MP3 Experiments, a group of participants wearing headphones start listening to the same series of audio instructions at the exact same time, the result being a well-coordinated ballet of eccentric actions meant to stun and delight the onlookers. Improvisation, however, is fairly limited, as is any consequential interaction with the audience.

I'm sure many of you have seen their work before, but here are some good examples.  First the latest no-pants video:




And the latest MP3 experiment:




Many of their pieces do indeed overlap with the world of physical comedy.  In The Mute Button, they transform everyday life into a silent movie:




And in this one, they turn off movement, creating a freeze-frame Grand Central Station:



____________________________
"The golden rule for a prank is that it should be as fun for the person getting pranked as it is for the prankster."  — Charlie Todd, IE founder
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A spoof on the cliché of the would-be suicide leaper getting talked down from a high ledge:




Here's a fake hypnotist act, with shades of A Midsummer Night's Dream, the young lovers being puckishly tricked into falling in love with the wrong person.



____________________________
“Someone once told me, ‘What you’re doing is giving other people anecdotes.’ You don’t regularly see things in New York that make you go, ‘Wow, that’s awesome.’ You don’t see humans interacting in a way that takes you off guard and makes you smile. You see a guy taking a shit on the sidewalk.”  — Charlie Todd
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Finally, their most clownesque piece, the Worst Ice Skater Ever. Watch it first, then I'll give you my two cents!



Or as Huckleberry Finn said: "And by and by a drunk man tried to get into the ring -- said he wanted to ride; said he could ride as well as anybody that ever was. They argued and tried to keep him out, but he wouldn't listen, and the whole show come to a standstill. Then the people begun to holler at him and make fun of him, and that made him mad, and he begun to rip and tear; so that stirred up the people, and a lot of men begun to pile down off of the benches and swarm towards the ring, saying, "Knock him down! Throw him out!" and one or two women begun to scream. So, then, the ringmaster he made a little speech, and said he hoped there wouldn't be no disturbance, and if the man would promise he wouldn't make no more trouble he would let him ride if he thought he could stay on the horse. So everybody laughed and said all right, and the man got on. The minute he was on, the horse begun to rip and tear and jump and cavort around, with two circus men hanging on to his bridle trying to hold him, and the drunk man hanging on to his neck, and his heels flying in the air every jump, and the whole crowd of people standing up shouting and laughing till tears rolled down. And at last, sure enough, all the circus men could do, the horse broke loose, and away he went like the very nation, round and round the ring, with that sot laying down on him and hanging to his neck, with first one leg hanging most to the ground on one side, and then t'other one on t'other side, and the people just crazy. It warn't funny to me, though; I was all of a tremble to see his danger. But pretty soon he struggled up astraddle and grabbed the bridle, a-reeling this way and that; and the next minute he sprung up and dropped the bridle and stood! and the horse a-going like a house afire too. He just stood up there, a-sailing around as easy and comfortable as if he warn't ever drunk in his life -- and then he begun to pull off his clothes and sling them. He shed them so thick they kind of clogged up the air, and altogether he shed seventeen suits. And, then, there he was, slim and handsome, and dressed the gaudiest and prettiest you ever saw, and he lit into that horse with his whip and made him fairly hum -- and finally skipped off, and made his bow and danced off to the dressing-room, and everybody just a-howling with pleasure and astonishment."

In other words, whether on horseback, a tight wire, or ice skates, this is one of the oldest acts in the book. The problem here is that it's very underdeveloped: he stumbles around a bit, eventually gets his footing, and is then revealed to be an elegant skater. Ta-da! But they missed so many movement possibilities and great opportunities to interact with rink staff and audience. It's the bare bones of the gag without the meat.

I guess I am of two minds about IE's work.  I enjoy it, I find a lot of it funny, and I'm glad they're doing it.  On the other hand, it's more cutesy than provocative, and far less improvisational and interactive than I would like to see, but that's more of a quibble than a criticism; you can't please everyone all the time. And as you know, I do like to write about new directions in physical comedy, what I call "physical comedy in the 21st century," and right now I'm thinking that this performance paradigm may have far more potential than we realize. Gotta think about that one....
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Some links:
• Web site for Improv Everywhere. For each project, you'll find not only the video, but also an article about how they did it, photos, and sometimes supplementary video footage.
Urban Prankster, another blog by Charlie Todd covering "pranks, hacks, participatory art, and other creative endeavors that take place in public places in cities across the world." It has all the IE videos, but stuff by other groups as well.
• An earlier blog post of mine about a flash mob of commuters in the Antwerp (Belgium) train station suddenly dancing their hearts out to "Do-Re-Mi" from The Sound of Music. 
• A 2002 IE article with photos (no video) of two IE "stuntmen" who dazzle the crowd with such harrowing feats as running with scissors and sitting too close to a TV.
• A New York Magazine profile
• A Rolling Stone article
A Wall Street Journal article
A New York Times article

Thursday, June 9, 2011

"At Cirque du Soleil no one is more depressed than the clowns."

[post 151]

Or so says the New York Times.  A mere five days after a lengthy profile of Cirque du Soleil co-founder and owner Guy Laliberté, which I wrote about in this post, the Times is back with a three-page preview of Cirque's upcoming debut at Radio City Music Hall, the stage show Zarkana.  And though their previews tend to be fluff pieces, the Times is again raising questions about the Cirque's artistic direction, comparing Zarkana to Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark and wondering out loud about the caliber of the theatre and clowning components.



Here are a few quotes:

In an effort to rebound from the rare failure of the intimate “Banana Shpeel” in New York last year, the one thing everyone agrees on is that this will be a very big show. There will be daredevil feats, bold images and high-flying acrobatic spectacle. As Mr. Girard put it: “No theater. No vaudeville. We want to be more Cirque than Cirque.”




Mr. Bazinet’s job is to help guide 15 performers of diverse backgrounds into a comic unit called the Movers. Less than a week earlier he had spoken to his friend David Shiner, the director of “Banana Shpeel,” who told him what he already knew: that clowning at a theater the size of Radio City is impossible. “The clowns are going to die,” Mr. Shiner says. “You need an intimate space for clowning, otherwise you have nothing.”



At Cirque du Soleil no one is more depressed than the clowns. That’s not just because the painted smiles hide a deep-seated sadness, although there is some truth to that stereotype. (“You can’t imagine the number of clowns I’ve seen cry in my life,” Mr. Laliberté says.) Rather, it is because developing a clown act requires more experimentation and spontaneity than the Machine allows time for. And Cirque was built on arty, sometimes twee clowning that can’t fill up a large space like Radio City.


[Okay, I admit it, I thought "twee" was a typo, but it turns out it means "excessively or affectedly quaint, pretty, or sentimental." —jt]

The story is, if anything, more impenetrable. When asked about it, Mr. Girard answers abruptly, Cirque “is not a good place to tell a story, period.”

You can read the whole article here.

And here's a video preview that'll give you some idea of the look of the show; there are more on YouTube.