(September Challenge) Portrait of the Artist as an Old Man
eve
<Note: For anyone unfamiliar with Godot, "Gogo" is one of the
characters in the play, aka Estragon>
Portrait of the Artist as an Old Man
1185 words
I--Frederick Hime--who have devoted my life to the art of directing,
in the purest form of theater, Amateur--have been supplanted by a
potty mouth with hennaed hair and visions of madness.
Bettina has dazzled the newer members of the company--Baby Boomers
with empty nests and unresolved hungers--who seek a bit of glamour in
a small town, Our Town community theater experience, something edgy
and of the "street". With cunning and malignance, she has cultivated
the first blooming of their mid-life discontent like a hothouse
orchid, spinning absurd theatrical conceits ever more fantastic to
meet their quickened need.
I have been reduced to stage managing the next production, but I will
prevail--oh yes, I will prevail, for my bitterness is vast, my bile
oceans deep and come opening night, my revenge shall do justice to the
abortifacient to be performed by The Volkenfield Players.
"Godot: The Musical" shall be her Waterloo.
**********************
Rehearsal, Day Four
"Never forget the spine of the piece, Gogo," Bettina says. "You are
*waiting* for that motherfucker, Godot."
Boomer Man 3 (names are not a possibility with these people--all
members of that generation look the same to me) tries to absorb this
morsel of insight; even though the play contains three solos for Gogo
hammering home that very idea ("Wait", "What up, Wait up!" and "Who am
I Waiting For, Again?") the comment seems to bear the weight of
revelation for him.
He spends the rest of the rehearsal shouting the word "waiting"
whenever it appears in the script, which Beryl deems primal, textured
and bitterly ironic.
*********************
Green Room, Day Eight
While lingering momentarily in the broom closet, I happened upon the
following exchange:
"Have you noticed Frederick never calls any of us by our names?"
Boomer Woman 2 says. "I feel like Pavlov's dog--every time he says
"Miss", I look up."
"What's even more bizarre," Boomer Woman 1 replies, "is that every now
and then, I think he calls me--and I can't quite make it out--but it
sounds like he's saying "Juan" with a really bad British accent."
Rather than look to themselves for that which renders them
lemming-like and unworthy of being named, they impugn my fine hand
with dialects.
Has this generation *no* sense of personal responsibility?
*********************
Rehearsal, Day Twelve
Leading the warm-up, Boomer Man 3 draws Bettina and the cast into a
circle; this travesty of a Gogo then spurns The Craft, choosing
instead a "fun" exercise for the group, one which strips bare the
essential nature of his sorry manhood:
"Pull my finger," he says to Bettina. "Pull it!"
**********************
Rehearsal, Day Fifteen
Boomer Woman 1 and 2 are exploring their characters, Lucky and Pozzo,
in an improv based on a Dr. Phil exercise they saw on Oprah. They are
working with two lines--not of text, but stage directions:
"Enter Pozzo and Lucky. Pozzo drives Lucky by means of a rope round
his neck."
Within two minutes, they are crying.
Within five, they have joined forces and turned on the rope, which
Pozzo has decided represents Lucky's unavailable father.
Within half an hour, they stop the improv, Pozzo announces that the
rope is "Just a guy thing" Beckett couldn't get past, Lucky agrees
(sobbing anew as she does so), Bettina commends them on their brave
work, hugs them both and calls for a break.
After break, the rope is replaced by a length of red ribbon looped
through a braid on Lucky's head. They use it to great effect upon
their new entrance, a Maypole dance.
**********************
First Dress Rehearsal, Day Twenty
Gogo is now wearing leather chaps and a bustier.
***********************
Final Dress, Day Twenty-Two
Bettina says "fuck" eighteen times during her speech to the cast,
exhorts them to remember that "Godot is now your bitch, so slap the
shit out of the ho and stay in the moment" and then calls for a group
hug.
***********************
Opening Night
I slip loose the dogs of war.
***********************
Out and About in Volkenfield
by Hank Ritch
Under the direction of Frederick Hime, The Volkenfield Players long
enjoyed a reputation for excellence, but beginning last season, under
Bettina Whitney
<snip>
"Godot: The Musical", is a pastiche of bad music, bad acting and bad
direction, but fifteen minutes before the final curtain, a shocking
<snip>
Burdened by lyrics that are the antithesis of Beckett's powerful
prose:
"G' day, Gogo,
G' day, Pozzo
The waiting's done,
I am Godot!"
Mr. Hime nevertheless carries the role of Godot with style, passion
and absolute mastery of the stage
<snip>
Unfortunately, Hime's bravura performance does not lift his fellow
actors; the marginal confidence they show earlier in the production
evaporates upon his entrance.
<snip>
Although delivered with a fairly convincing note of growing anxiety on
the part of the performers, a lengthy exchange of dialogue between
Gogo and Pozzo as to the nature of life ("What's going on?") and the
nature of Godot himself ("What the hell do you think you're doing?")
is ultimately confusing, and seems to come out of nowhere.
<snip>
Ms. Whitney freely borrows from all theatrical conventions in this
production, and none succeed. An attempted Greek chorus (meant to
symbolize post modern alienation, one presumes) manifests in the cast
shouting, for a full two minutes, "Get off the stage, you bastard!"
<snip>
After pelting Godot with their worldly possessions, the characters
flee the stage, raining curses down on Godot as they exit, running
from the very being they have yearned for--and in that moment, there
is at last a touch of Beckett's bitter irony in this production.
Godot has finally arrived, and he is not wanted.
********************
How I gloried in my solo curtain calls (and wondered why I had
resisted the role of Player for so long) but I was near undone by my
triumph.
After their fury was spent, Boomer Man 3 came to believe--and
convinced his fellow Numbers--that I had engaged in the most radical
theater of all (a kind of "uber un-theater", if I understood him
correctly)and he pestered me like a smitten schoolboy for more of the
same.
After giving the appearance of much thought, I suggested The
Volkenfield Players start an experimental traveling troupe under
Bettina's direction, and the "U Mofo" company was born; they have gone
forth, finding a willing audience elsewhere (most notably in the local
prison system), leaving me in perfect peace to plan next season.
It will take time to rebuild my company but until then, I must
perforce make do with what stagecraft I have in hand, modest as it may
be.
I have settled on but two things, yet they point my compass true
north, I believe: "The Entertainer" as the season opener (a play in
which singing is not mere directorial artifice, as it tells the tale
of a music hall performer, Archie Rice, who cares only about his
career) and, until I can no longer draw breath, I shall play every
male lead hence.
I shall also, of course, be directing myself in the role of Archie.
________
eve
eve
> I--Frederick Hime--who have devoted my life to the art of directing,
> in the purest form of theater, Amateur
...should read: I, Frederick Hime--etc
eve
Alaric McDermott
wasn't part of my school syllabus and I've never been interested
enough to watch it or read the play in the many years since. So I
think that some of this probably flies right over my head.
It is cleverly arranged, that's clear to see, and Frederick Hime in
his jealousy is a real and universally recognisable character, and I
chuckled at some of the theatrical conceits, such as the finger
pulling.
I'm not quite sure what Hime does to extract his revenge other than
apparently playing his part very well. Maybe I missed something.
Probably my unfamiliarity with Godot.
Also, the ending seems a little odd. Following the generally bad
review, it would seem that the last thing the Volkenfield Players
might feel confident enough to do would be to start an experimental
traveling troupe, at least not without the wondrous Frederick.
I sort of leave this with the feeling that it must be good, but that
unlike the Players it probably won't travel.
eve...@hotmail.com (eve) wrote in message news:<315f5af7.02093...@posting.google.com>...
Egad
that when the cast reacts to an unplanned entrance by the title character,
the audience thinks it is on purpose. Brilliant on the part of Mr. Hime and
on the part of eve. Very well written and enjoyable story.
Thanks for posting
Egad
Quadpus
> in the purest form of theater, Amateur--have been supplanted by a
> potty mouth with hennaed hair and visions of madness.
Great opener. You've got set-up, some quick character sketches, a
few nice details, and the start of a plot thread. I'm interested.
> I have been reduced to stage managing the next production, but I will
> prevail--oh yes, I will prevail, for my bitterness is vast, my bile
> oceans deep and come opening night, my revenge shall do justice to the
> abortifacient to be performed by The Volkenfield Players.
>
> "Godot: The Musical" shall be her Waterloo.
Jeez, you're a good writer. Is this your first post here, or have you
been here before and I just missed it?
> "Never forget the spine of the piece, Gogo," Bettina says. "You are
> *waiting* for that motherfucker, Godot."
Funny.
> He spends the rest of the rehearsal shouting the word "waiting"
> whenever it appears in the script, which Beryl deems primal, textured
> and bitterly ironic.
Beryl? Slip for Bettina?
> Although delivered with a fairly convincing note of growing anxiety on
> the part of the performers, a lengthy exchange of dialogue between
> Gogo and Pozzo as to the nature of life ("What's going on?") and the
> nature of Godot himself ("What the hell do you think you're doing?")
> is ultimately confusing, and seems to come out of nowhere.
Laughing out loud here.
> Ms. Whitney freely borrows from all theatrical conventions in this
> production, and none succeed. An attempted Greek chorus (meant to
> symbolize post modern alienation, one presumes) manifests in the cast
> shouting, for a full two minutes, "Get off the stage, you bastard!"
And here.
> I shall also, of course, be directing myself in the role of Archie.
This is really, really good and really, really funny. I have nothing
to criticize. It was a pleasure to read.
I hope you win the challenge.
Quadpus
wrote:
>
>I'm not quite sure what Hime does to extract his revenge other than
>apparently playing his part very well. Maybe I missed something.
>Probably my unfamiliarity with Godot.
Yes.
Read "Waiting For Godot" first chance you get, Al -- I think you'd
enjoy it.
eve
> I'm not quite sure what Hime does to extract his revenge other than
> apparently playing his part very well. Maybe I missed something.
> Probably my unfamiliarity with Godot.
shows. Ambushing the production by turning up as Godot is Hime's
revenge, and the rave review is just an unexpected side benefit--what
the reviewer sees as just one more hack twist in a godawful,
experimental production of Godot (with Hime carrying off the honors)
is actually a group of panicked actors freaking out when Hime appears,
trying to get him off stage and then fleeing the stage themselves when
they fail.
> Also, the ending seems a little odd. Following the generally bad
> review, it would seem that the last thing the Volkenfield Players
> might feel confident enough to do would be to start an experimental
> traveling troupe, at least not without the wondrous Frederick.
That's an excellent point, it does seem murky in retrospect.
The idea (theoretically:)behind the ending is that the numbers follow
Hime's suggestion because he now personifies rad theater to them
(should've clarified that by having Hime play dramaturg to the troupe,
or sumpin' like that.)
Thanks for reading, Alaric--appreciate you taking the time.
eve
eve
Thank you, glad you enjoyed it, Egad. (As to the absurdity of Godot,
Dennis Miller recently made a great, off the wall Godot ref that may
be my all time favorite: Miller always listed "Next Week's Guest"
during his closing credits for his program on HBO, and on his final
show, next week's guest was Godot.:)
eve
Alaric
"Quadpus" <qua...@yahoo.com> wrote in message
news:slrnapk6hn....@veenet.value.net...
Alaric
Always glad to admit my ignorance (before anyone else does it for me.)
"eve" <eve...@hotmail.com> wrote in message
news:315f5af7.02100...@posting.google.com...
eve
First off, an overall thank you for your favorable comments (I like to
say thank you in one lump and I hope that doesn't seem abrupt or
careless, as it was all very much appreciated.:)
You wrote:
> Is this your first post here, or have you
> been here before and I just missed it?
I jumped in about a month ago to comment on one of Amanda's stories
("Losing the Junk") but other than that, I've been lurking, not
posting here.
You wrote:
> Beryl? Slip for Bettina?
"Yes," she said, kicking herself in the ass. "Yes!"
eve