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This page - Los Angeles, the opening! Next page - the Tour begins! Athens (Greece), Houston, St. Louis, North Carolina, Pensylvania, and the next time I go out as "the Writer" - Page after that - Melbourne International Arts Festival! 1984 at the Gang - Day One
I land at LAX hours before rehersal, and hours before I can check into my hotel, so I wander around Culver City. Seems like a nice place. But I can't distract myself from what's about to start. It's been about two years since I started work on 1984. It was after another scenario meeting at the Mime Troupe, where I once again was proposing a 1984 inspired summer show - some wacky take-off on a repressive police state, with songs. This was like the third time I'd used '84 as inspiration for a show idea. Once was combined with Dracula for "1600 Transylvania Avenue," and then it influenced the Gestapo-like America in "Veronique of the Mounties." But I always wanted to do something closer, a real adaptation, which I knew may not be a Mime Troupe summer show. So I was on the road with Veronique and I twisted the hell out of my ankle. I wasn't in the show - I was along as the director, and to watch Zachary while Velina performed - so, suddenly bed ridden for two months, I decided to tackle 1984. From there it was readings in a living room in Denver, the two in SF. Then one day Amos at the Troupe says he's been in touch with Tim Robbins about organizing some common political theatre front for the mid-term elections. That doesn't work, but Tim asks if the Troupe has anything for possible co-production. No, but our headwriter does have a script... I send it off, a week and a half later Tim calls, interested. After that 18 months of wrangling about the rights, calls to London, the Orwell Estate telling me it is going to take a great group of actors to pull this adaptation off, me saying I think I've found one, meetings in New York... Anyway, I finally go to the Theatre. It's raining, windy - in LA - but I'm ready to start! And I find out they've started an hour ago. "Didn't you get the e-mail?" No. "Oh. Well, we'll get you that." I've met a few of them already - last summer - so we don't do introductions. Tim walks in, and we start. It is indecribably cool to see words you've written made real by actors. I know we'll have some changes to make, but right now, wow. After rehearsal Tim and I go out for some dinner at a sushi place down the block. Well, first we get to Tim's car - a silver Jag - which he assures me was not his choice! He wanted something more sensible, but the rental place was out of Volvos, or something. He seems like a really nice guy. But quiet. Real quiet. Not stab-you-in-the-head-when-you're-not-looking quiet. Just quiet. Or maybe he's just quiet compared to me - blabbing along about whatever skates through the frontal lobes. I'm trying to not say the wrong thing - the thing that willl make him slam on the brakes and scream " Get out of my rented Jag - that I didn't even want! What was I thinking picking this play! You sir, are an idiot!" I think in trying trying to not be offensive - which really is my outstanding talent - I end up being stupifyingly dull even to myself. All I can think is "What should I say to Tim Robbins? The Hudsucker Proxy himself? Instead of being myself, I let my representative talk. And that guy should be fired. But I guess I don't say the wrong thing - though when he tells me he had dinner with Nelson Mandela, I was strangely stumped. After Sushi Tim asks me if I want to see a play. The Gang's touring production of " Exonerated" is playing downtown, so we go. Great, disturbing play about deathrow inmates wrongly convicted. All true stories. And on the heels of the Tookie Williams execution, that much stronger. A couple of ex-SF actors are in it. Oh, and I ran into Michael McShane and Judy Moreland at the theatre. Judy looked the same as she did back at ACT in SF, but McShane has lost a, well, he basically lost a me. Looks healthier, but less of him is a lot to get used to. I knew Mcshane before his Friar Tuck in Costner's "Prince of Thieves" and "Who's line..." Back in SF there were a couple of summers where my gig was having Michael chase me around in Shakespeare plays. And I finally met his wife! Nice woman, and it's good to know she exists. Up 'till now I only talked to her on the phone. Day Two So far Tim has been very open to conversation about the show. He isn't insecure or panicky about other opinions - the whole theatre is very open to questions and working through pieces in a way that we at the Mime Troupe don't have time for. Not saying it's better, just different. The cast is really fun to watch. Brent, who's playing Winston, is one of the coolest actor's I've ever met. He exudes a confidence that is, well, calming. I've worked with alot of people, but seldom have I worked with anybody so at ease with themselves. Main thing today was just trying to make sense of the script,, and me answering questions about what the hell I was thinking. After rehearsal I stuck around for a workshop. Tim was teaching a commedia class to the students and interns at the Gang, and it was facinating to see the similarities and differences with SFMT workshops. The focus of this workshop was emotional States - how does this character feel, embody, express any of the four States - anger,love, fear, hate - inspired by a piece of music. First the workshoppers picked commedia characters, and dressed in full costume, make-up, and masks. Then, six at a time, they would take the stage, and when Tim would play a fairly chaotic bit of music - I think he said it was from La Strada - without moving they would embody whatever State they felt. And when they are ready the person at the point of the group would begin to move, copied with others. So you have a fearful Lover, a happy Pantolone, and so on all going through the same movements, but in different and ever changing States. it was great. The other thing was they were not to try to create a scene, or be funny. And no silent miming of some off stage point of focus, "Godzilla is out there! Over the audience! You, audience, can't see it, but I, the actor, can - and look at how well I act terrified of a threat that you will never see!" Without that, the actor's had to stay inside, make it organic. So it was very powerful. Great. Now I'm back at the hotel, watching Kurasawya's adaptation of Gorky's "the Lower Depths." Got it and Renoir's adaptation for Christmas. Day Three: Day off Just got back from limping out to visit and have more sushi, this time with my cousin, Harold, in Northridge. Day Four Tim tried something else different with the first scene. I wrote the scene as a re-enactment of the first time Winston sees Julia, which is during the Two Minute Hate - a bunch of Party Members screaming their fanatical heads off. Because the concept of the show is that the whole thing is a re-enactment of Winston's diary the question was how into it do the re-enactors, who are Party Members, get? Are they good actor's? Do they need to read all of it, or are they off book? So Tim had them do the first, fanatical scene very calmly, very just-the facts- m'am. It works well. I had to make some line changes, but it gives them a place to start that might help the audience. I don't know,. but it is an interesting take. Day Five: Lunch with Tracy Tonight there was a little extra platform on the stage. Tim wants to set Winston apart a little from the Party Members, but he isn't happy with it. It makes Winston taller than everybody else. When I first plotted out the show I always pictured winston in a kind of pit, but when Tim asks me what I think of the platform, I'm like " Well, that's interesting, it sets him apart." I'm thinking it reminds me of a prisoner in the dock, but I'm also being a weenie. I don't want to seem like I'm tied to my ideas, so I hedged. Yick. I'm not going to do that again. It really isn't me - I'm normally quite annoyingly opinionated. Tim decided to build a pit in the stage. Day Six Breakfast with Michael McShane. I haven't seen Michael in a long time, and like I said, he's a thin willow of he previous Sequoia self. Michael and I did some Shakespeare in SF along time ago, and he worked with Velina at ACT. Then he went on to "Who Line is it, Anyway?" in England, Robin Hood, lotsa stuff. We went and got some eggs, tried to catch each other up. He told me he and Greg Proops used to wonder what drugs I was on - I was always so chirpy and bouncy and political - then they realized I wasn't on anything - they were stoned. But he said he was proud of me forging a career doing what I feel is important. It made me feel all chirpy and bouncy. Tonight was my first feeling of "Uh Oh." We still haven't gotten through the first act, and have no idea how long it is. And it's hard for the actor's to get any sense of character throughline. It is a short rehearsal period, and we started fast, but things seem to be slowing down. Tim decided to not have the Party Members start the show as droning functionaries, which means the rest of the first act has a differnt pace. The two atcor's playing First and Second Party Members are trying to figure out their relationship, and everybody wants to know what exactly I was thinking when I came up with this concept - which is Winston is being forced to re-enact his "thoughtcrimes", which he documented in hes diary. To help him with this confession are four Party Members, who play everybody in the diary, including Winston. And all the while, as they are exposed to his crimes, tempted, and reacting to each other, they are all under the blank gaze of an unseen telescreen, and Interrogator. Cool, huh? Well, try having your cool concept dissected by some of the most incisive actors around. So my "Uh Oh" isn't about the production, I guess. It's fine. I'm just not used to being in this position. Day Seven Anyway, today I had a great time at rehearsal. It's like the fact that I have to leave is making me finally relax, and speak my mind, be myself, make rewrites quickly. Tim asked me to put in two little speeches about Big Brother in the second act, I grabbed a piece of paper, did three drafts, and read it to him. He was like "That's the fastest rewrite I've ever seen." It was good to finally feel like myself. Mainly today I just sat back and watched the actors get more comfortable with the character arcs. This is always the most frustrating part of rehearsal - everybody knows their lines well enough to no have to hold script, but not well enough to fully commit to the action. They are still remembering the lines, which makes directing very tough - I know Tim is waiting for the time they will all really start digging into what they have - and we can all see what works and what doesn't. right now I have to imagine timing, and predict what will make sense. And I'm leaving tomorrow! Oh, I realized that I haven't really said anything about the rest of the cast - just Brent. So let me say first that Brian Finney, who plays First Party Member has the toughest job in the show. He has to play his character, and play his character playing Winston - and show how playing Winston influences him. Sorry about that, Brian. Day Eight We still haven't gotten through the first act! The second act is a breeze - if watching a Winston get tortured can be called a breeze - but the first act is long. I wish we could have gotten a run-through before I had to leave. The Gang folk keep asking me if I have to go, when am I coming back... It was very hard to leave. Anyway, I feel great about the whole thing so far. The toughest part really is letting go, letting someone else interprete my script. The director in me wants to strangle the writer in me for putting us in this situation, and my actor self wants to know if I have to screw myself to get in the show. But over all, this is the coolest thing possible. Back in two weeks. Extra! Tim called me while I was having lunch with Velina and a friend from High School. Right in the middle of my Shrimp Po' Boy I got the call I knew was coming - a big rewrite! The first act is still too long, so would it be possible to move the act break? Damn! I had been waiting to see what was going to happen. On the last day in LA Tim told me the first act was going to be long, about an hour ten, and I said I thought it would be about an hour thirty. I wish he'd been right. So now I have to write a new ending to the first act. This is tough. I moved the act break during the readings a few time, until I thought I'd found the best place for it. The whole first act leads up to this moment that should leave the audience in suspence. But Tim is worried that the very important information at the end of the act will be lost on a tired audience. Good point. So now I'm moving the scene at the begining of the second act fifteen pages earlier, because it's a good act kick off, and have to make that make sense. I have to find a way to re-build what was the middle of act one to gain suspense and tempo to get to a point were the audience needs a break, and the break on stage during th interrogation works. Shit. Well, that was interesting. I get to the place, Brian Finney's, and there they all are. I haven't seen them in Anyway, the Seahawks lost, I ate some grilled stake, generally had a good time trying to relax and not seem like the the "Who's that guy, really?" guy at the party. Tuesday, and afternoon rehearsal is cancelled so the set can get painted. Fine. I go in at 5, and after some notes from Tim, and a lot of tech coordination, we start a run through. It's not as smooth as one would like. Now, all the changes that I'd been working on while back in SF have been dropped. alot of them where dealing with emotional shifts that hadn't jelled yet, and had since been worked out. Fine. But the rest of the show is still jerky, stops and starts. They have't touched some parts of it since Saturday, so thats normal, but it looks scary. Not good scary. Not 1984 scary. Just scary. But it's a small, invited crowd, so we know there's work to be done. So Tim schedules more rehearsals. The next day we all come in at like 1 or something, and work on tech, and throughlines for the characters. It's clear the main thing the show needs is runthroughs, so that's the plan. And getting the ratcage to look right. Always a problem in life - getting one's ratcage to look right. Today the show looks not as scary, and Tim seems a little more like, "Oh, yesterday was just a rough start of the week." Things are coming together. My thing is trying to make sure that the lines still make sense, and that the characters are still different. this is a tough one, since most of them don't even have names, are dressed alike, and have the same jobs. Subtleties. Took Zachary to the beach again, this time with Velina. Runthrough went much better. Took like ten minutes off the show. I asked Tim if he wants to go back to my original idea of a one act, but we are both concerned that the show will be too much in one gulp. Afterwards I'm looking for Brent to ask him a question, and somebody says "Hey, Michael! Come here! You should talk to Arianna!" I go over, and there is a striking looking woman standing by the stairs - and I mean striking looking in a good way. "This is Michael - he's the writer. This is Arianna Huffington." Now this was another situation I never thought I'd be in. I have a long conversation with Arriana Huffington about my play, which she thinks is brilliant. Yes, she said brilliant! And she's a good talker! I really could have talked to her much longer - and not just because we were talking about me! Brilliant! She's damn bright, asks good questions, and makes clear points. One thing, though - being European she's a close talker. I still have to get used to that. I kept having to remind myself not to back up during the conversation. I mean I really had to say in my head "Don't back up!" I said this until I felt the banister bump me in the butt. I'd backed up about three feet. Next time I'm going to lean forward. My chance for an intimate tete a tete with Arianna. Next morning I get a messege. It's Arianna. she wants to know if I would be interested in blogging my 1984 experience on her website. Wow. I'm not ever sure how to do that, but cool. I tell her I kinda have a blog/diary going, and she says fine, I'll have two. I have to get to work on that. For one thing I have to re-create my life since I started this project. I think I'll make myself taller. So she gives me her number, personal email, and I tell her I'll be in touch when I'm back at my home computer. This is getting weird. (Eventually I actually wrote for Huffingtonpost.com, but not about 1984.)
The Gala opening Brilliant! So, we finished up the evening, (and I hear some body - and let me make this clear - COMPLETELY UNCONNECTED TO THE THEATRE) went out and did a poster hit all over town of these really cool posters, which I hear are available online at http://www.1984live.net -- that's the word on the street. Afterwards I talked to Tim about if he was going to rehearse anymore, and he said naah, they were open. So that's it so far. Back to SF. Cousin drops us of at the airport, my friend John picks us up, and we're back, ready to plan Zachery's 3rd birthday on Tuesday.
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Tour info and dates.
The set is like a cell - long walls of white materiel on three side, one door leading up some stairs, little widows up at the top of the walls. Tim wants a shadowy figure to be behind the walls, O'Brian, stalking the stage unseen. Interesting.
Finished watching Renoir's "Lower Depths" as my legs healed. I didn't think it was as good as the Kurusawa. Kurusawa seems to trust that the charcters in the flop house can tell the story, but Renoir didn't trust them, and had to create this whole rich guy plot - like the audience wouldn't be able to relate to the denizens of the lower depths without an interlocator.
Brent is tethered to the center of the stage by two cords connected to either wrist, and at certain points in the show he gets an electric jolt. This was something Tim came up with last summer. At first I liked it, then I felt there was two much of it, but Tim cut it back, and now I feel it brings a threat that is so immediate, it's great. Oh, and Sean Penn was there tonight. Just watched the rehearsal for an hour or so. 
a week, all I've thought about is the show, what they're doing, and they're eating grilled stake and watching the Seahawks get robbed by the officials! Tim comes over, and of course all I can think is "How's the show going?" but I don't want to seem obsessive, so I wait a full twenty seconds before I ask. "Oh, fine. We really found alot of things this past Saturday. Hey, everyone look who's here!" Somebody says "It's the writer!" which is cool to hear, and a backyard full of white people I don't know very well turn and look at me, in my Mime Troupe sweatshirt. At this point everybody's name thankfully floods back into my mind. Yes! V.J.! Brian! Steve! Kylee! Brent! And Keythe, whose names is pronounced "Keith", but who's parents were from Berkeley. Whew! I suck at names, so this is a big deal for me. I mean, these people are very nice - at least no one has pulled me aside to whisper how much they's like to take my internal organs for a trip to the beach - so the least I can do is remember their names! Though sometimes I do feel that V.J. would like to remove my fingers, shuffle them, and put them back in different sockets.
Really it was more me going to occupy myself and keep sane, and bring him because he likes sand in his diaper. Who doesn't?
In San Francisco the only people who go to the beach generally are tourists who think all of California is sunny, and stoners who know it is a place to be alone - if you don't mind the shivering tourists. In LA the beach is a much more egalitarian experience. Families, whole school classes on field trips, teenagers on class-cutting dates. It was fun. 
Went to the La Brea Tar pits. Thought Zachary would like that. Ten minutes in he said he didn't want to see any more skeletons. That's kinda the whole Tar Pit thing, so we left.
Tonight the audience was all students from USC. It went well, but felt a "Is it okay to laugh now? Are we going to be tested on this?" vibe. We had a disscusion afterwards, which is my bread and butter. Put me on a stage, ask me some questions, and I may never shut up. Okay, to be fair, I wouldn't shut up if I were alone in a cardboard box in a tree on Mt. Fuji, but that's beside the point. Got some good questions, but there were a few students who asked the "Is this show really going to make a difference?" question. "Do you really think theatre can change anything? Aren't you just preaching to the converted? I mean, we're all liberals here..." Man, I hope that kid flunks. Smug inactivity masqarading as detached objectivity. Bleech. Velina asked "What do you suggest? Doing nothing? What's your alternative?" I would have added a Mr. Smarty Pants, but thats me. I'm a writer. And Tim said there's a difference between thinking something and acting on it. He asked everyone who protested the war to raise their hand - maybe fifteen. "See? Saying we're all liberals isn't enough - we need to be active." I can't remember what I said that evening- it was either brilliant and incisive in a way that make people re-evaluate their basic paradigms, or I made an ass of myself. One of the two - those are my options.
Velina and I got all dressed up. Zachery stayed with Finney's kids. I didn't know what to expect. I walk in, there's Gore Vidal. There's Buck Henry. Later Darryl Hannah showed up. The show went well, it's still coming together, but it seems to work. But here's the strange part:
What a trip.