Monday, 19 February 2007

More Attractive People Who Have Now Died

Why is it that history always focusses on the one who got away? Okay, call me a sucker for the kind, dark, handsome type- but if Robbie Burns had told me it was a "Bra light, moon light moon light tonight" I'd barely understand, but I'd swoon right over.
I looked him up on Wikipedia and it says he was crazy about a lady named Eliza Burnett, another attractive person who died at an early age, and wrote her a letter saying that without her he could never be happy. But nowhere under the "Romantic Life" section, did W mention Burns's wife, who I seem to remember after this Eliza business was over and done with, he was married to for his entire life.
Oh how we all do love an unrequited fantasy. To the excellent reality of whoever Robbie Burns's actual wife was, since Wikipedia refuses to tell me, here is an ode for you:
My love, she's but a lassie yet,
My love, she's but a lassie yet;
We'll let her stand a year or twa,
She'll no be half sae saucy yet;
I rue the day I sought her,
O! I rue the day I sought her,
O! Wha gets her needs na say she's woo'd,
But he may say he's bought her, O.
But she's my wife and I'm glad I married her.
I appreciate all the mundane things she does for me
See? I told you he was the kind, dark, handsome type. Or at least in my world he is.

The Half Hearted News Hour

Joel Surnow and Fox News' most recent brainchild- "The Half Hour News Hour"- right leaning comedy, is slated to be a failure for more reasons than one.

1. Have you seen the promo? That's supposed to be their best material. And it's Rush Limbaugh stating facts, awkwardly looking around and smiling, comforted as soon as the laugh track kicks in. Even he seems unsure about when he's supposed to be joking. Rush, I told you so!

2. Left leaning comedy is funny for one reason, and one reason only- because at present the Left are the Underdogs. Back in the eighties when political correctness was all the rage American audiences were able to side with people like Al Bundy from Married with Children, the guy that's left behind in the Yuppy revolution, your average poor white male working at the shoe store. That's just not the case anymore. Someone let Al Bundy vote, and no one's amused with his choice. It'll be another four years before we find guys like him funny, when his crappy ideas will start to seem reasonable after America has disbanned the military and spent all their money on solar panels. But in 2007 seeing Republicans guffaw about Global Warming Hysteria brings back memories of watching "the cool guy" in high school tease the nerdy but cute kid in class. If anyone's laughing, it's because they're scared that if they don't you'll kick their ass. This is a laughter of discomfort. There's nothing amusing about living in a world full of bullies.

3. And here is the most obvious point: This show is not original. Not only is it unoriginal because of our good friends Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert (who I should think, in character, would like to fancy himself the original right leaning news report...) but because they haven't even tried to hide their rip off by finding an original title for their show.

Any Canadian will know that This Hour has 22 Minutes has been the popular CBC news spinoff for the past 14 years. Is This Hour has 22 Minutes simply a more clever version of the Half Hour News Hour? Um, yes, sherlock, I think it is! They've taken our own joke, made it worse, and sold it back to us with shinier less disposable packaging!
Fittingly the most popular segment in This Hour has 22 Minutes was "Talking to Americans" where anchor Rick Mercer goes South of the Border, tells Americans our prime minister is Tim Horton, the name of Wendy's owned donut franchise, Americans repeat the information on screen, and Canadians collectively laugh at their ignorance.
Hey, I have a good spoof headline for you: Republican Comedy show steals their very name from a well meaning 14 year running Canadian show, knowing that their target audience either won't know or won't care.
Wow. Talking to Republicans has never seemed less appealing.

Saturday, 17 February 2007

Help I'm bored!

This won't be an interesting post.
This is a background that comes with my computer. This background is more interesting than I am.
I am at home, trying to rehearse for my one person show "Eternal Sunshine and the Spotty Mind" and I just don't like it. It's not awful, it's just not really my thing.
But then I think, I frickin' wrote it, so if it's not my thing whose thing is it? That's like saying that your child has a face that only its mother could love, but you prefer not to think of yourself as its mother. Or something like that.
Oh, this is worse than writer's block! This is writer's annoyance! There's nothing worse that just becoming irritated with yourself! This is why you should always take long walks on sunny days instead of staying inside and screwing around with your myspace settings. Your own internet profile will only be of interest to you for so long, trust me.

Friday, 16 February 2007

Imagine people took me seriously

So the other day at school, I contradicted a teacher, whose name I will not here mention because he is probably more important than me and is friends with people who are definitely more important that me, depending on what you think the word "important" could possibly mean.

We were discussing "building character" in an exercise of his, hot seating characters in a play that takes place in 1932 Germany, and I asked one actress, who is a lovely Jewish girl, but was playing an anti semitic Prussian woman, to take herself far enough out of her own head to imagine that I was telling her that people like her would be despised in the future. What was her reaction? Lloyd stopped the question in its tracks. (Shoot. I mentioned his name. Oh well. Apologies.) He said that asking a character about the future is not relevant to their present.

Now I guess I think differently, fair enough, but I am of the opinion that character building can begin from any point. An actor's decision about whether their character's mother died, or if they ate eggs in the morning is as relevant as what that character dreams about or how that character chooses to use their imagination. When I act, or invent a character, I try to step into that character's world, and that world will be populated by their hopes, dreams, and history. Don't we all live in the present, past and future all the time anyway? And doesn't our vision of the future change on a daily basis? Isn't our vision of the future a barometer for what we want, for what we expect from ourselves, and for what keeps us going? Surely this should be important to a character. Integral to their motivation.

The way that I write characters is very much in keeping with the story of the Scorpion and the Frog, as told by Forest Whitaker with an Irish accent at the beginning of "The Crying Game."

A Scorpion walks up to a frog at the bank of the river and asks it for a ride across. The frog says, "Get away from me, Scorpion jerk."

The Scorpion says, "Look, think about this reasonably, Mr. Frog. Yes, under normal circumstances I may feel inclined to sting you. But if I stung you while you were taking me across the river, you'd stop swimming, sink, and then I'd drown, and then we'd both die. It just doesn't make any sense."

So the frog thought about it for a moment and conceded. "Hop on." He said, begrudgingly.

And sure enough half way across the river the Scorpion got this crazy look in his beedy little scorpion eyes, pulled out his taiser tail, and stung the frog.

While they were both sinking the Frog, with his last froggy breath, said, "Now why in the hell did you do that."

The scorpion apologized, and drowning wildly, the frog could make out the words: "Because it was in my nature."

Now I am of the opinion that people act according to their natures all the time. The way that someone opens a door, or rushes to work, or dreams about water, their character, and the flesh and bone of their character, their understanding of character should be ingrained in any of these activities.

Yeah, but the prof didn't like it. Or wasn't in the mood to let me push boundaries. And who am I anyway? Maybe one day when I'm famous he'll tell that story to his class and give it a chuckle. But for now I've fallen out of favour, meaning that if I ever do get famous, it may be with no help from him at all.

But now I'm just complaining to my blog, ain't I?

Apologies. It's in my nature.

(Wakka Wakka!)

Attractive people who have now died.

My apologies, it's been a while. To be honest, I was unsure as to whether I'd keep this blog going, but the boredom of the RADA library today means that you're stuck with me, for as many posts as it takes before I start having a social life again.

Speaking of a non existent social life- Have you ever noticed that Rupert Brooke was one hot little totty? Well cut suit, smouldering eyes, manly jaw line. I heard he wrote poems and stuff too. Wow. What a dreamboat. I should write an ode to him and his sexiness.


"If you should die,
(which you did, in 1915. Man, war's a killer.)
think only this of me:
That there's some a girl who lived in 2007
That forever thinks you're sexy."

No wonder I'm a writer. In the words of Paris Hilton, "That's hot." And I'm not just talking about Mr. Sexypants Soldier Brooke. Me-ow.

Thursday, 8 February 2007

And so it begins!

Head bowed, embarassed, she steps up to the computer and decides to start her own blog. It's about time.

This is a blog for all those other young, struggling writers out there, who are starting to think that it's never going to happen. You know, the days you walk past Tesco and wonder if they're hiring, the umpteenth application you've filled out for an admin job at Dance Theatre Now, where you try to sell your interest in the only time you saw a contemporary dance show, which a coworker most likely dragged you to. Oh, I don't know, I guess this is just a place for me to write about what I love and what I'm going for. Apologies to any of you who find it. This is what blogging is all about, isn't it?

I write this entry from the library at RADA where I just met Caesar from Antony and Cleopatra at the RSC, and we had one of those short but sweet conversations about how great he was and how great Shakespeare is, and what I'm studying. It's all made me feel a bit useless.

C: Are you an NYU student?

D: No, an MA student.

C: Right...

(He nods. I wonder what he's heard about the program.)

Oooh, should I be putting all this on the internet?

I guess that's what blogs are for.