The Wrestler

Mickey Rourke: I just can’t seem to get it together. Maybe if I had one more chance.

Evan Rachel Wood, Marisa Tomei: Here, have another chance.

Mickey Rourke: Nah, I’m good.

THE END

Yes Man

Movie Studio: Hey Jim Carrey, do you want to make a movie where you say, “yes” to everything?

Jim Carrey: Yes.

Movie Studio: Do you want to accept a pay deal where you’ll only get paid if the movie makes a certain profit? Keep in mind, this is probably the worst possible pay deal you can negotiate. Is it cool with you?

Jim Carrey: …yes?

Movie Studio: Attaboy.

THE END

Zach and Miri Make a Porno

Z and M M a P.

THE END

I think for the first time in my life...I am listening to more "real" music than showtunes. 

It seems all I've listened to in the past few months is Guster and My Chemical Romance. Just recently I've started digging into Jeff Buckley and The Frames. 

I am fascinated by this change. I used to listen exclusively to showtunes with one guster cd and a few spare songs to mix it up. Now I'm cycling through five Guster cds, two MCR cds, two Frames cds and Jeff Buckley's first album. I think it has to do with my Hamlet rock musical I'm working on. It's been on my mind recently and I've finally been able to look at it again and start tweaking. Some of the songs are really starting to come together. I think I'm addicted to artistic expression. I won't be able to do a show until at least the fall, so as soon as my mind has nothing to do, little lyric nuggets just come out and I have to tetris them in to the songs. I'm enjoying myself.

Two things have crossed my mind lately. Make no mistake about it, I want the best and more for my friends. But as the saying goes, "Champagne for my my real friends, real pain for my sham friends." 

In other words, I wonder if I'm just preparing for my audition for Othello this fall when I take as much pleasure as I do in the failures of those who in my eyes deserve it.  

The other thing I've been pondering lately is the reason I am using Livejournal now. I think one of the reasons I've shyed away from Livejournal/Xanga/blogs/myspace/etc...is the manipulative nature of it all. I'm sure that isn't what springs to everyone's mind, but let me play the scenario out:

Let's say I looked to see what other groups of people liked acting and started talking to someone. We shall call them Dasani because there is a water bottle of that name in eyesight. Dasani and I chat back and forth and we become internet friends. 

Now who is to say that a single thing that we tell each other is true? People can lie in real life of course, but if you live and hang out out near a group of people, the types of lies vary slightly into a situation where you can more easily be caught. On livejournal however, if I'm never going to meet Dasani, I could tell them all kinds of crap and they'd be none the wiser. If they lived in Nebraska, I could tell them I had gotten my big break and had gotten a part in a Broadway show or something of that nature. That is only one example however, since the only people that would really lie about something like that are people who 

A. Never get cast

B. Like the attention

C. Are serial killers who are going to convince Dasani to come to New York to see them in a show and and then kill them and wear their skin. Or something.

A more likely lie has something to do with relationships. They could be boasts of sexual prowess from virgins or attempts to save face in a breakup. 

Unlikely scenario: Poland Springs and I reeaaaallly hit it off and we start dating. After an unspecified amount of time, the relationship sours and she breaks up with me. Now let's say I have a livejournal and Poland Springs does not. I could reach out to any stranger, let's say Dasani, and talk about how this bitch Poland Springs cheated on me even if nothing of the sort had happened. I now have the sympathy of Dasani, who in turn would hate Poland Springs, who she doesn't even know. Does this seem fair? True this thing can happen by word of mouth, but it just doesn't have the same impact  and scope as the internet nowadays. It can also be done by editing your posts. For example, notice this imaginary conversation in it's first post and it's edited post:

Milk_and_vodka: Man do I love candy! Lolz! Who else loves candy?!?!
Poland Springs: LOL, I totally do. I'm craving some right now. HA!
Milk_and_vodka: WOW, we are just totally on the same page!
Poland Springs: Yeah, it's great to find people with common interests, ya know?

Milk_and_vodka: Man do I hate cheating bitches who suck random cocks. Anyone out there do this?
Poland Springs: LOL, I totally do. I'm craving some right now. HA!
Milk_and_vodka: Wow, you are a whore. What, do you troll streets late at night with your mouth open?
Poland Springs: Yeah, it's great to find people with common interests, ya know?

Sidenote: The unlikely scenario described above is not unlikely soley because of the scenario itself, nor my involvment in it, necessarily. What is unlikely about it is that I would date someone Polish. 

Just kidding, I just wouldn't date or befriend a water bottle. After all I'm insane, not...whatever's worse than insane.

Anywho, whether or not an innocent party has a blog, it still seems ridiculous that an ex can make up piles of undisputed bullshit which is taken as truth on their own little blogosphere. I know this from past personal experience. My crazy-shitballs-insane ex Alyssa (I guess I just found out what's worse than insane) started posting shit about me after I broke up with her in high school about how I had been apparently cheating on her. I found this out from a random classmate who said that a little bird told her I was dating my friend Jess, which made about as much since as a little bird telling someone I would be at church next Sunday delivering the sermon. Anyway, according to Alyssa's Xanga (little bird), I had been apparently seeing Jess and Alyssa couldn't belive I would do such a thing to her...blah blah blah lies bullshit bullshit. WHO THE FUCK CARES? I've been cheated on and you don't see me proclaiming it like it's going to win me a car. It's my life, my past, my burden, and on top of all that, it actually happened. What a novel concept that someone who says they've been cheated on has actually been cheated on.

I think in the end it strikes me how amazing it is that no one today ever wants to find out both sides of the story. People need to just ask for themselves sometimes. I have close friends who feel not coming to me directly and instead complaining to Lacey or Heather is the right way to go. What are they thinking? Either way I'm going to find out you've got some problem with me. You can either pussyfoot about it in my general direction, or you can come straight up and ask me. Your choice. I wonder if he thinks I wouldn't be his friend anymore if he told me what was bothering him, which is a ridiculous but possible answer.

A few other things that bothered me about all these blogs and livejournals. 

One: Vague posts that don't mention people by name and just say things like "I can't believe they betrayed my trust like this and it will be a long time before I can trust them again. Please, nobody ask me about what's going on. I don't want to talk about it." Then don't freakin' post about it. It's like telling someone the start of a joke and right when you get to the punchline going, "Well...maybe I shouldn't tell you." ARRGH

In lieu of that, Dusty. Dusty is the name of the person who is incapable of facing me. My roommate and friend...Dusty. (EDIT: Dusty and I have finally sorted out what the problem was. BIG case of lack of communication. 100% fixed now and our friendship is much stronger than before. Thumbs up!)

Of course I won't always name names. I made it clear in my last post that those that remain living as some cruel joke on humankind shall be referred to by nicknames so as not to recieve the pleasure of being villianized (who doesn't enjoy that?) but also so I don't break my own rules. I may think someone is a complete ass but I'm not going to go to their page to chew them out. That is their own private area, and I'm not going to go anywhere unless I'm invited first. Only fair.  



Two: Friends Only Posts. Anything that I say, I have no problem with anyone else hearing. I have nothing to hide and making posts only readable to friends or to myself says I do. Speaking of, if I'm going to make a post that only I can read, I might as well just start keeping a regular journal on paper. I know that concept seems ridiculous to anyone using livejournal, but the forgotten art form of pen and paper does live on in some areas.

Am I a hypocrite? I suppose I am to a certain extent since I'm using Livejournal despite my detractions. But hey, maybe I don't really believe anything I just wrote. 

After all, how would you know?

mood: satisfied

My dog has cancer. 

That sounds like the start of an off-color joke, but in this case it just applies to my (almost) 11-year-old dog Brandy who we just discovered has a cancerous tumour. 

It's very odd to think of an animal getting cancer, let alone dying from it. For me at least. I lost my grandmother to lung cancer when I was 10. You don't need a psychology degree to pinpoint that as the moment my first phase of life, or "Candy and Happiness Jeff, "as I shall affectionally refer to it, ended. I think everyone has a group of phases that their lives can be divided into. My phases after my grandmother's death were as follows:  "Depressed Jeff" moped around until the beginning of high school when I found my first girlfriend. Then I opened up slightly into "Idealistic/Hopeless Romantic Loner Jeff" until close to the end of high school, where I found myself on girlfriend #3 and not feeling particularly idealistic or romantic anymore, though a bit hopeless. Since entering college and breaking up with girlfriend #3, I've settled into a phase that will very likely carry me for a good long while. That, ladies and gentlemen, would be "Sarcastic Cynic/Crazy Glee Jeff" which sounds like it shouldn't make sense, but to those who know me, I think that is a fitting description. 

My point is that I've come through several phases since having last dealt with death. I've become a bit jaded and it's easier to ponder this subject now then it would have been at any past phase. And don't say that it's easier because she's just a dog. I know people who I don't want to be anywhere near when their beloved dog dies for fear of the resulting meltdown.

Brandy has been probably one of the best-behaved dogs I've ever known. She has never bitten anyone since she was a puppy, and little kids have poked her, sat on her, and bothered her a hundred other ways without her doing anything other then looking around for an escape. She also rarely barks, save for a stranger being near the backyard when not accompanied by a member of the family. Probably the best thing about Brandy is her simple love of people. Anyone she meets is her new best friend. If only everyone could be that way. I know I'm certainly not. 

Cancer just feels like a human disesase to me. How in the world could a dog get cancer? Their dogs! I know all dogs go to heaven, but I'm surprised they even die. Dogs should just always be. Their too perfect a species to be submitted to the pain of something like cancer. Cancer should be reserved solely for people. No person is perfect. Therefore, if a person gets cancer, it could be considered a punishment for however small an infraction they have performed in life. Or in the event of some people, like Dripdick and Waxlips, cancer is a step in the right direction.

Note: In lieu of naming names, I've decided that those certain people who hit my "enemies" list might as well have the benefit of not being pointed out by name in my various tirades. Instead, they shall each get a short nickname of some sort derived from something trivial about them, like Dripdick, which is just easier to type then Jerkedoffsomuchthathiscockleaksattheslightesthintofanerection. As an example.

Anyway, I'm taking Brandy to the vet tomorrow. They're going to try to remove the tumour in surgery. We supposedly caught it in time so that she should recover, but who knows. Who really knows enough to say for sure when someone will live or die. 

I can't help but think of the Calvin and Hobbes comic strip where they find the dead bird. They realize that it must have hit a window and as they walk, Calvin thinks aloud as Hobbes quietly listens.

Calvin: Isn't it beautiful? It's so delicate. Sighhh...once it's too late you appreciate what a miracle life is. You realize that nature is ruthless and our existence is very fragile, temporary, and precious. But to go on with your daily affairs, you can't really think about that...which is probably why everyone takes the world for granted and why we act so thoughtlessly. It's very confusing. I suppose it will all make sense when we grow up.

As they sit under a tree, Hobbes finally speaks up.

Hobbes: No doubt.
 
The look on Hobbes' face, however, seems to insinuate that he is only saying it to shield Calvin from the truth that they will never understand death entirely. 

In the last panel, the two sit under the tree and thoughtfully watch a flock of birds go by.

That's the closest I can get to an explanation that doesn't factor in religion. And I suppose, for now, it will have to do.

mood: thoughtful

ATTENTION!!!
FELLOW THEATRE MAJORS PAY THE CRAP ATTENTION!!!


While lazily browsing musicals.net earlier I saw an article about how a LOT of shows are disappearing off of marquees this summer. I clicked on the link to the article assuming that Wicked and Legally Blonde had shot too much straight glitzy sugar into their bloodstreams and finally OD'd smack onto the Great White Way. Right?

WRONG

Yeah, a lot of straight plays are closing. They don't last long anyway and that was bound to happen. Here's what I didn't see coming: COMPANY IS CLOSING THIS SUNDAY. You know, the show that just won the tony for best revival of a musical two weeks ago. Well, now Company is being canned prematurely. At least Sweeney Todd almost played for a year. Company isn't even breaking 250 performances.

My fellow theatre friends, you may be asking yourself what makes this show so special? Well, there are five things to start you off.

Raul Esparza
Sondheim
The Rest of the Cast
John Doyle

What's that you say? That's only four things? Wrong-o. Raul Esparza rocks so much that he counts as two separte things: Raul. And Esparza.

Let me explain this a little better saving my main man Esparza for last.

Sondheim: Any theatre-person worth his salt knows that whether or not Sondheim is overrated in some respects (I'd rather spend a Sunday in the Park with George W. Bush than sit through that bullshit Act Two laser light show again) he's still one of the most prolific artists out there. Anyway, this show originally came out in 1970 and deals with cipher bachelor Bobby and his cynical views on marraige after spending time with five couples who make up his friends. Eventually he starts having to deal with feelings and emotions and all that jazz when he starts to come alive at the end and take the plunge into a commited relationship.

The show is really ensembley with the exception of Bobby with everyone else getting usally one scene and/or song to show their stuff before heading off. The problem with that is if one or two people stand out more than the others, than the ensemble loses its balance. Thankfully, everyone here is so on their A-game that the elevation in performances applies to all and brings everyone back to an even ensemble by the end of the show.

Three of my personal favorites are Elizabeth Stanley as the simple-minded airplane stewardess April, Heather Laws as neurotic bride-to-be Amy, and Barbara Walsh as world-weary cynic Joanne.

Stanley manages to ride the fine line between odd and stupid without teetering too far into either camp. Her one night stand duet with Bobby, Barcelona is so uncomfortably hilarious in it's awkwardness, that it's like an episode of "The Office" set to music. On a side note, holy shit that would be awesome if "The Office" were made into a musical. Anyway, back to Company.

Heather Laws comes in ten minutes before intermission and steals the entire audience with her rapid pace patter song Getting Married Today. Anyone playing pre-wedding jitters for comedy should take note of the shot out of a cannon intensity Laws imbues with her performance.

Finally, Barbara Walsh kicks the audience's collective asses with her two songs without ever spilling a drop of that vodka stinger. First she digs into marraige with the biting Little Things You Do Together, before obliterating everyone and everything around her in the self-loathing Ladies Who Lunch. She belts out the last note "RISE!" again and again until she is just screaming it. The music stops and she continues to scream the line unitl exhausting herself and the audence too. You could hear the audience collectively breath out when she finished.  

Speaking of the music, anyone familiar with Doyle and last year's Sweeny Todd knows that he loves putting one-threat musicians out of the job by sticking the instruments in the actors' hands to help tell the story. He applies it again here to Company with instruments representing the love and connection between the characters. If not for three specific moments in the show that depend on it, I would probably have enjoyed Company just as much without the concept, unlike Sweeney Todd which bored me to tears without it. Anyway, those three moments are:

Three of Bobby's led-along lovers fighting back in a saxophone trio of You Could Drive a Person Crazy.

Side by Side by Side, the Act-Two opener where the couples pair off in musical harmonies and counterpoint with their varying instruments. When it's Bobby's turn, he timidly sounds off on a kazoo only to be met with silence and a spotlight on a blank spot of the floor to represent his lack of a love.

Being Alive. Anyone who watched the Tony's and just thought it was a guy singing at the piano is wrong. It really is neccessary to view it in context to the rest of the show. Everyone in the show is always seen with an instrument except for Bobby until this last scene. He slowly makes his way over to the piano and says almost taunting the other character's: "What do you get?" 

He then slowly starts to sing about all the things about love and marraige that make people miserable as his friends continue to egg him on to take the plunge. Finally, half way through the song, he changes the lyric ever so slightly to become a plea for someone to treat him the way he has just derided. He rises and finally opens up, calling for someone to need him too much and hurt him too deep, as long as it makes them alive.

That last one alone should explain why Raul Esparza is the bee's knees, but that was only Raul. Now for the Esparza. 

Ever since hearing him sing Hushabye Mountain in the better-then-it-should-have-been Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, I've been a fan of Mr. Esparza. With that song, and now Being Alive, he has twice made me freeze in my seat, unable to move in case I blink and miss something on his ever-expressive face. His incredible voice  makes Sondheim truly soar, but it is the sheer emotional tint he expresses that seals the deal. He has three solos in Company and he barely moves his body during them. Every single inch of it is read on his face. I had never seen anything like it before and I am, and always will be a fan of Raul Esparza for the power he brings to his performances.

This post is two things. First of all it is a message to all those out there who loved Sweeney Todd or theatre in general. SEE THE SHOW! You have less then a week and you could still make it. 

This post is also, however a cry from yours truly. Alas I have seen Company once so far, but was subjected to the the head-shaking crap that is Bradley Dean, Raul Esparza's understudy. I did get a chance to see Esparza live at the Tony awards rehearsal though thanks to my dad, but it wasn't the same as getting to see the whole show with him in it.

This is it. I have six days before it is lost and gone forever. 

My best chance is this Wednesday when Lacey will be in the city already for her callback. Hopefully we can shoot over to student rush in time. Wish me luck.

To quote Bobby's first solo:

"Wait for me, I'll hurry, wait for me, hurry, wait for me, hurry...WAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIT"

I'm coming Raul.

mood: anxious