Thursday I called the set designer for 9:30 AM so she could put up all the leaves, branches, twigs, rocks, pelts and bones before the camera department arrived. Of course, once she spent 90 minutes putting up the set, our director arrived and changed everything. Okay, that's 3 hours extra space rental fee at the theatre lab because we stayed longer. Should have gotten that slimy motel room, after all--they charge by the day and we would have been better off financially. Of course, in the room at the theater lab, I see a mattress upon which I’ve played many a scene in class; a portable door behind which I’ve sat crying, a table at which I sat to be put to death by lethal injection; thus, many warm feelings of good rehearsals. PLUS, they actually loan us their business phone from the office when we need a set piece. So, it was a better choice for location after all.
Posts Tagged ‘poetry’
Shooting The Trailer: Day 8
Thursday, April 5th, 2012The Transformative Power of Drama
Tuesday, September 6th, 2011
You may remember my friend Lisa the actor. You may not remember my friend Lisa the actor. In either case, I am about to tell you of her further adventures. Adventures wildly beyond.
Lisa, as you may or may not remember, spent the summer after her freshman year working in a psych hospital. She came away from the strait-jacketed revelations with a 3-act stage play.
Perhaps an unintended consequence. Or perhaps, she, brave, deliberately entered the extremes of the human mind to pick the dramatic fruits, the over-ripe, rotten dates that fall from the twisted back of the horse cart traveling along the twisted, steep… never mind.
Her new chapter is even better…even stranger…even truer.
In the fall of her sophomore year, Lisa was cast as Viola in Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night.” That’s okay, don’t bother to run off to Google to remind yourself of the story. I summarize it here for you.
Viola disguised herself as Cesario, a young man, and thus found the freedom to live in the city on her own, get a job, move about as she pleased. All the bindings of a young woman’s life were cut, changing her place in the social structure.
Viola/Cesario went to work for a Big Shot Dude (a Duke, I think, but that was just Willy’s snobbery and not important to the play or the message.) Big Shot Dude sent Cesario/Viola to deliver gifts and flowers and candy to the Big Shot Dude’s girlfriend. Cesario/Viola was supposed to ask Girlfriend to marry the Big Shot Dude; but Girlfriend was charmed by Cesario/Viola (“Why don’t you speak for yourself, John?”) and wanted to date him/her instead of Big Shot Dude.
And so forth with various gender confusion and falling in love with the wrong people because you like them, not because of what equipment they have. And all comes out okay in the end.
Some critics call Viola Will’s most powerful female heroine because she takes it into her own hands to improve her situation in life–she isn’t tricked into disguising herself as a man, as some other Shakespeare women are; but, rather, chooses to disguise herself.
Yes, Viola is a powerful role. Grief & loss are always right under Cesario/Viola’s epidermis. Hope, love, intelligence are in every twist of the page. Relief and redemption come at the end when her thought-dead twin brother re-appears.
Viola and all the players are filled with confusion and sex change. Viola expresses this: “O time, thou must untangle this, not I. / It is too hard a knot for me t’ untie.”
After the run of “Twelfth Night,” Lisa called me and said, “I have discovered that I am a boy in a girl’s body. I have always felt uncomfortable playing love scenes and I never knew why till just now. I’m going to have a gender re-assignment. My new name is Nick.”
…talk about the transformative power of drama.
W.B. Yeats
Friday, August 19th, 2011
The Tower by W.B. Yeats
The wreck of body, slow decay of blood
Testy delirium Or dull decrepitude
Or what worse that will come
The death of friends
Nineteen Hundred and Nineteen by W.B. Yeats
III
…but now
That winds of winter blow
Learn that we were crack-pated when we dreamed.
V
Come let us mock at the great
…
Come let us mock at the wise
…
Come let us mock at the good
… for we traffic in mockery.
VI
Violence upon the roads: violence of horses;
Some few have handsome riders, are garlanded
On delicate sensitive ear or tossing mane,
But wearied running round and round in their courses
All break and vanish, and evil gathers head:
Herodias’ daughters have returned again
A sudden blast of dusty wind and after
Thunder of feet, tumult of images,
Their purpose in the labyrinth of the wind;
And should some crazy hand dare touch a daughter
All turn with amorous cries, or angry cries,
According to the wind, for all are blind.
But now wind drops, dust settles; thereupon
There lurches past, his great eyes without thought
Under the shadow of stupid straw-pale locks,
That insolent fiend Robert Artisson
To whom the love-lorn Lady Kyteler brought
Bronzed peacock feathers, red combs of her cocks.
On A Picture of A Black Centaur by Edmond Dulac
Your hooves have stamped at the black margin of the wood,
Even where horrible green parrots call and swing.
My works are all stamped down into the sultry mud.
I knew that horse play, knew it for a murderous thing.
What wholesome sun has ripened is wholesome food to eat
And that along; yet I, being driven half insane
Because of some green wing, gathered old mummy wheat
In the mad abstract dark and ground it grain by grain
And after baked it slowly in an oven; but now
I bring full flavoured wine out of a barrel found
Where seven Ephesian topers slept and never knew
When Alexander’s empire past, they slept so sound.
Stretch out your limbs and sleep a long Saturnian sleep;
I have loved you better than my soul for all my words,
And there is none so fit to keep a watch and keep
Unwearied eyes upon those horrible green birds.
Colonus’ Praise by W.B. Yeats
…
Every Colonus lad or lass discourses
Of that oar and of that bit;
Summer and winter, day and night,
Of horses and horses of the sea, white horses.
Films on Food, Food on Film by Norman C. Berns
Friday, August 5th, 2011The host of Reel Grok, Norman C. Berns–not obsessive by any means–has compiled this insanely long, though–he claims–only partial list of foodie films. Go to http://sn.im/reelfiles and search for “FOOD”. Enjoy!
And read Norman’s own blog at Producer’s Cut.
Whoops, There Goes My Budget
Thursday, December 2nd, 2010I am a purse snatcher in a low budget feature.
How low…I don’t remember if I ever knew the budget because I was an actor in this one, not a producer although since it’s a small town I tried to ask around just out of curiosity to see what the budget was so I would add to my information store by knowing how much money could be raised just possibly by an indie filmmaker if that indie filmmaker happened to be any good at raising money but then again the filmmaker had had an earlier film accepted into Sundance so thus he had more credibility than I would thus making it easier for him to raise money for a second film than it might prove to be for me for my first self-funded feature and even after the film was released I called the producer to ask about the budget but she would not share the information with me.
So let’s just say I am very comfortable saying this that it was under a million dollar budget I am even thinking under a half million maybe just a couple hundred thousand because as a data point I know what the costume designer’s budget was and what the actors were paid so I extrapolated from that: somewhat faulty thinking but nevertheless I say three hundred thousand.
So, I am this purse snatcher and we are shooting a tiny little insert scene where I am getting ready to rush the businesswoman and grab her purse and they didn’t even use the insert scene in the end; he shot so much more footage, so, so much more; but, of course I didn’t know how much he was shooting ‘cause I was only on set that one day and I don’t think I had ever read the entire script ha ha you can see how desperate I am for work but that’s a different story for a different day back to business:
Here I was standing on a bridge contemplating the businesswoman and her handbag and it’s a scene where I have no lines you know just an insert scene where I am contemplating so I am to stand in while they set the cameras since this is a low-budget and they have no stand-ins and besides my character is not big enough nor is my status as an actor big enough to warrant a stand-in should they even be available to bigger actors but of course they’re not at all so I’m standing on the bridge overlooking a city street, the street to which I will eventually escape after I’ve done the purse-snatch, and the director whom I definitely appreciated so very much for taking so much time with my day-player character the previous week to rehearse with me—almost a half a day rehearsal with me and my victim talking about my motivation—so I really loved it I thought he was so sensitive and concerned with every detail and I loved how he looked into my eyes and tried to understand where I fit into the character and how I would play this little role and how he shut the world out for a half day to work with me it was very intimate and empowering and I remembered thinking to myself how nice I would love to work with this director again nay I would jump at a chance to work with this director again in a more substantial role but anyway back to the present:
I am standing on the bridge and the director has four PAs holding back a tree which happens to be framing one side of the shot while I am standing patiently or impatiently or avariciously or jealously and then the director says he needs two more PAs because the tree is strong and it’s hard to pull it entirely out of the way and I vaguely hear the location manager say we better be careful not to ruin this tree we have to shoot another day in this location and after all this is a small town and the director says get me two more PAs I cannot have the tree in this scene and the PAs are tugging the tree and the director is looking in the monitor and everyone is wondering how long when or why when the scriptie says:
“Maybe we can pretend this movie takes place on a planet where there are trees.â€
So the scriptie is fired.
The producer the same one who wouldn’t tell me the budget and now I realize why she wouldn’t did not say anything to the director about y’know getting behind sticking to the schedule making tradeoffs or maybe she did and I didn’t hear it I only know that it didn’t stop that insert from being shot nor the trees from being moved till they were perfect.
And we continue on this artistic path spending an entire day shooting an insert scene that didn’t make it into the cut or it made it into so few fractional seconds that I didn’t see it and you know—you do know—that I was watching so very carefully for every frame of my own performance.
I do believe that film went over budget. But, then, again, how would I know?
Sawing the Air: Bad Acting
Friday, October 15th, 2010
I did an internship I did with Shakespeare Santa Cruz. We were in class doing the R & J balcony scene with various permutations of players.
I was playing the scene with a man who was sawing the air too much. He put one hand on his hip, struck a pose, and lifted his other hand in the air to gesture.
The whole thing struck me as hysterical–to begin with, he was 20 years my junior; and then he proceeds with this posturing. I started laughing at him and sticking my tongue out at him during his speech. This discombubulated him so much he could not speak the words trippingly and complained to the teacher, the patient & creative Jack Zerbe.
Jack told him, “That’s your Juliet. If she’s laughing at you, then you have to do something different to convince her that she’s in love with you.”
Starving Artist Writes Recession Poetry
Monday, June 28th, 2010Yeah, yeah, how lazy can one person be?!?!?
She is still refusing to write new blogs.
HOWEVER.
By broad and tumultuous acclaim, these senryu are being re-published for you.
At no charge.
TwitterHaiku 15:
Starbucks is posting //
Calories. Who cares? I need //
Starbucks to post jobs. //
TwitterHaiku 21:
Recession tactics: //
No French nails or hair streaking. //
Fire the housekeeper. //
TwitterHaiku 35:
Wearing Gucci shoes //
She carefully steps over //
George begging for change. //
TwitterHaiku 40:
Stealing is not right. //
Loaf of bread: six years. Bank fraud: //
Ooooh, a big ol’ fine. //
TwitterHaiku 77:
Baby in ER //
Sniffles turned to pneumonia //
Mom was uninsured. //
TwitterHaiku 17:
I was a teacher. //
Laid off. Cancer. COBRA gone. //
Twenty months: homeless. //
TwitterHaiku 90:
You must deserve it. //
It must be your fault. You’re bad. //
That’s why you’re poor. //
TwitterHaiku 91:
Stealing is not right; //
Neg-am mortgage loans //
Seem to be okay. //
Twitterhaiku 100:
Why am I laid off? //
I’m white and American. //
I deserve better. //
Twitterhaiku 18:
No job…can’t buy stuff… //
don’t buy stuff…businesses close… //
no jobs. Great system. //
Senryu 146:
You’ve got twenty years //
Background; but yet, we didn’t //
Think you’d be so old. //
Senryu 152:
Come visit my home. //
Chat of art, foreign travel. //
Not the recession. //
Restrictions
Saturday, April 24th, 2010Sometimes restrictions are just falsely restricting. Maybe that’s why spoken word artists want to break free of rhyme and meter and go with other forms of tonal beauty—alliteration, onomatopoeia, beat, the visual aspects of the performance.
Something you can get very formal and it can become an exercise in structure rather than meaning.
Like my resistance to being given line readings, PARTICULARLY by Shakespeare’s supposed punctuation.
But I found something interesting when I examined how Twitter be used as a new artistic format/medium. Twitter sang to me. The song was “HAIKU.” In addition to the haiku restriction of 17 syllables in 3 phrases of 5-7-5, there is also the additional Twitter restriction of 140 characters. For some reason, it exploded my creativity. In one night I wrote over 200 of them haikus, many of them good.
Maybe this is masturbatory. Maybe everybody blogs about the nature of creativity and nobody is interested and it’s boring.
Sometimes structure IS the meaning. Lack of structure, that is. A la Rhinoceros, The Chairs. Def Poets?
There is something about restriction/repression.
Unbalanced Actor Writes Haiku about The Mystery
Friday, March 19th, 2010It hurts tears shreds me //
Gouges huge chunks from my soul //
You ignore my art //
Dry shell empty husk //
When you take away my art //
You kill what is me //
Human emotions //
Channeled by storytellers //
Revealed through corpus //
Unbalanced Actor Writes Haiku about The Life
Saturday, March 13th, 2010At South By Southwest //
I split a motel room with //
Four goddam zombies //
Wardrobe BestBoy Grip //
TenOneHundred Props TenKay //
Random Gaff HeyYou //
David, acting coach, //
Proclaimed himself deity //
Us, his worshippers //
Acting class. Take five. //
Everyone standing outside. //
Stretching limbs, smoking. //
Michelle is..
an actor, performance artist, screenwriter, indie filmmaker. Her books are available at right on the front page of Reel Grok.

SHE wants YOU to cast HER in lead roles where sexy middle-aged women have hot affairs with younger men.
Senryu 38:
Many times I’ve said //
“I love your work.” I was false //
I loved his body //
Michelle can currently be seen performing in … well, is currently writing … a multi-media live / filmed performance with elements of insanity. In my work, my goal is to present fictional narrative entertainment that inspires people to change the world.
click to see a list of movies with cats
Senryu 92:
I wrote a screenplay//
My brilliant, unique story //
Tits and car crashes //
click to read more about my work
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