| Barrymore Begins |
[Apr. 14th, 2008|05:07 pm] |
Victor and I had a boozy evening on the town last Wednesday night, which ended with an impromptu reading of BARRYMORE, while completely faced, on my subway ride back to Brooklyn. But considering my character’s immortal indulgences, the whole evening can be handily written-off as good research—and taken in that light, I feel very responsible for having been so irresponsible.
Plus, it’s nostalgic.
* * *
Phill has a way of transforming our apartment into a magician’s workshop in preparation for our productions, and BARRYMORE is no different: The living room has already become a Victorian rehearsal hall, and this time, the set of the play comes complete with a working phonograph, on which Phill’s having me casually play the incidental music for the show, as though Barrymore is simply putting on music for pleasure during the course of his reminiscences.
After going through several vintage jazz albums on Saturday to find appropriate selections for the show, Phill let me try out an as-yet-unplayed vinyl edition of Jason Molina’s LET ME GO LET ME GO LET ME GO as a little bit of R&R. It was haunting, incantational…as ghostly as any of the sounds from those older recordings.
I finally “get” the whole vinyl obsession. It’s theatrical and intimate. It’s a sound that gets into the very woodwork.
* * *
Sunday we shopped for BARRYMORE clothing at Goodwill, and found a pinstripe suit in my size for $20.
This would be serendipitous for anyone, but as I’m 6’5” and intensely superstitious, it has lit a cosmic fire under my ass to do the show proud.
Cross all available fingers, toes. |
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| Barrymore, more, more, more, more! |
[Feb. 15th, 2008|05:00 pm] |
The books I'm using as research for my novel are waiting at home in a decidedly eclectic pile. Damon Runyon and Raymond Chandler are represented, as well as lots of nonfiction on the culture of organized crime and imprisonment.
But I'm also researching for an acting role in the Spring, which has necessitated a strategic re-envisioning of the family Netflix queue, and the collection of an entire second mound of material, featuring biographies, Shakespeare plays and lots of audio recordings.
The play is BARRYMORE, and the role is none other than John Barrymore himself. A bit of a meta-role really; I'm an actor playing an actor who is himself rehearsing a part. Or, more accurately, I'm a fledgling theatre hobbyist playing the greatest American actor who ever walked the stage rehearsing one of his signature Shakespeare performances. No pressure, huh?
At least I'm not expected to portray The Great Profile at the height of his powers; the play takes place at the very end of the actor's life. Remember that montage sequence in THE INCREDIBLES where Mr. Incredible starts powerlifting freight trains to get back in shape and reclaim his position as the world's top superhero? Well, imagine if that didn't work out for the guy. Imagine if Mr. Incredible, long out-of-practice from his many years spent feigning humanity, went to lift those freight trains...and found he couldn't do it anymore. Soon enough he just accepts that his powers are gone for good, that he will never get them back.
So help me, that is what BARRYMORE is about. It's devastating. Thankfully there's also humor, warmth and schmaltz to cut the poison--but under it all, yikes. In a way I'm glad I'm in the thing. Being a part of something, putting any kind of work into it, gives you some distance. But watching it? I'd jump off a fricking cliff.
* * *
I'm sick again, or getting there. That makes three illnesses in less than three months for me, in defiance of daily Airborne. I'd be creeped out if I didn't know it was my fault--I'm so determined for everything to happen now that it's like I'm perpetually cramming for exams, and often staying up way too late. Even my job's relative (and sometimes absolute) quiet isn't doing much to keep me from stressing myself out. I need to slow down...which seems absurd, considering it's the turtle's pace of everything I'm doing that has driven me to speed up in the first place.
* * *
It's my birthday today, so Phill and I are going to check out XANADU on Broadway. I've been meaning to see it since it opened, the film on which it's based being one of my all-time favorite cinematic disasters. I'm also a huge fan of shows based on cheesy, ubiquitous movies. I count the stage productions KARATE KID: THE MUSICAL and SHOWGIRLS: THE BEST MOVIE EVER, EVER as three of the funniest nights I've ever spent in a theatre. (Yes three: I saw KARATE KID twice.)
Fingers crossed! |
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good
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