Talk about my acting! (A questionable topic.)

Danville Oscar Guys and Dolls, Myers Dinner Theater, Hillsboro, IN - February 2003 Red Mask Players: One Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest - November 2002 Red Mask Players: Picture This and Scrooge Lives Upstairs - Summer 2002 Celebration Company: Spitfire Grill - Spring 2002 Latest News on my movie career! Personal Monologue Improv Class at The Second City I will keep this page updated as events relating to acting unfold. I never gave a thought to acting until around March of 2001 when I saw an article in the paper that a guy in Champaign was making a movie. He was the writer and director and it was said to be an action movie about a tough guy with a heart of gold whose name was Link. Guess what? The movie was called "Link," and the title role was played by the writer/director/producer. The article said that he was auditioning for several roles and included in the casting call were men in my age range. So I thought, "why not, what can you lose, and it might be fun," so I went. There were around 100 people at the audition and I counted roughly 8-12 guys in my age range. I was called in and asked to read for "Farley," who was a cantankerous cook. I was in front of a video camera for about five minutes and that was it. In a few days I got an email saying that I got the role of Farley and the email also contained my parts. I spent an about an hour on each of two Saturdays in a restaurant in Champaign at the stove being filmed. I had four or five lines, not much, but something. A couple days after my last filming I left for Oregon and was told that it would be quite a while before the film was "in the can," but that I would eventually get a copy. I never heard another word from the guy, although I emailed him a while back. So I don't know what happened, maybe it is still in the works. I do know that the guy was serious, he had expensive equipment and really wanted to do it, and he worked in a visual-type industry (it wasn't like he ran a concrete plant or something like that.) Well, here's the latest news on my film career (indirectly,) this article appeared in the February 20, 2002 paper. Now you know as much as I know. Anyway, I really got a kick out of it and decided that I wanted to do it again. So, when I got to Oregon, I took an acting class at Southwestern Oregon Community College (SWOCC) in Coos Bay; and I loved it. I really like performing, even if it is only in front of a class, or even a person. I don't think I am very good, and memorizing lines is hard, but I like it anyway. The little I have done has given me a whole new perspective on acting, and now every time I see anyone acting, even in commercials, I think, "could I do that role?" Since I have gotten this little start, I have not seen a play or movie (or a commercial) in which I thought there was any bad acting. This especially applies to the local community theaters, where everything I have seen has just been great. In class at SWOCC I did two scenes, each with another student and one monologue; and I had a small role in a play with a few lines. Upon returning to Illinois I enrolled in an acting class at Parkland Junior College in Champaign. They were casting for a musical, which my acting instructor was directing, and on one hand I figured it would be a good experience for me to audition, although I can't sing a note. On the other hand, I was worried that it might be wrong for me to audition for a musical since I can't sing. I let my greed for the auditioning experience win, sort of justifying it to myself by thinking that maybe they might have some role that did not require any singing, or only a tiny bit in a chorus of some sort. What follows is an email I sent family and friends after the audition: Wow! I'm jacked, I'm hipped, I'm pumped! Just got back from Champaign and the audition for "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum." I guess I must have been nervous, because I'm so hyped now; but I sure never felt that I was nervous. It started at 6, and I ate dinner at Meijer's deli in Champaign. While I was having dinner I got feeling that it was really stupid for me auditioning for a musical, and that maybe they would just think I was wasting their time. But the director just happens to be my acting class teacher, and although we have only had one class so far and I really can't say I know him, I figured that he should cut me a little slack. Not as far as casting me is concerned, but as far as not getting pissed at me for trying out for a musical when I can't sing. We had to fill out a little form/resume beforehand and I listed my work in the great unfinished film "Link," and my even greater work in Oregon. But hey, it was better than saying "none." They had auditions last night too, and I imagine they got more on a Sunday night; but I would say that they got about 15-20 people tonight; so with a cast of 17-25, I would say that 1 out of about every 2.37491 people will get cast. The way it happened to work, I got to see about 8-10 auditions. He told us we would start by saying our name into the video camera, then sing our song to the musical directors accompaniment on the piano, then spend a few minutes performing for the musical director, and finally tell our joke and sit down. After everybody in our group did that, he would break us up into pairs and we would have about ten minutes to prepare a designated scene from the script. The minute I heard the words "musical director," I went "Oh shit!" I was to be number five in our group to go up. The first one up was a guy. (On the drive into the parking lot I reached the conclusion that musicals were probably pretty sexually discriminating, because I felt that it was possible for a guy to get by with a little faking in singing, but I felt that a female could never do that, she would be expected to sing like a bird. (I sing like an ostrich.) So, since he (#1) was a guy, I felt that he would not sing too well, WRONG! Then he started doing scales for the musical director and I sank lower in my seat. His joke, like all the jokes, was pretty good. Number two was a gal with a great voice also. I hit my low point about ten seconds into her song, and then I just sort of started giggling to myself, I don't think anyone noticed. The thought occurred to me that what I was doing (auditioning for a musical) was really audaciously funny - AND THAT WAS A GOOD THING! (sort of.) I felt that this was a comedy and I should be happy and loose. That feeling continued and I was really loosey-goosey when I went on stage. The musical director asked me what key I wanted, and I just looked at him like he was an alien of some sort and said I didn't know, and that maybe I should just do it by myself. So I croaked out two verses of "There's No Business Like Show Business," to no accompaniment, smiling, almost laughing, all the time - and when I was not looking at the words, (I was the only one who need a script for the song,) I looked at the audience. I wasn't embarrassed, and I was having fun. I got a little embarrassed, but not bad really, after I was finished and the musical director had me stand next to the piano while he hit notes for me to sing. He was really nice and I think I might have actually made the same noise that he was making a few times. Then I told my joke: "Did you hear about the lawyer who was so fat that when he died they couldn't find a casket big enough for his body?" (Smiling and pause.) "They gave him an enema," (smiling more and a slight pause.) "And buried him in a shoe-box." (chuckling a little.) I would say it went over just OK, the director laughed, but he is a laugher and that does not signify. It should have been the funniest joke of all that I heard, but I don't think that it was. Maybe I should have kept a straight face. Maybe it takes a second or two to get it, so it might have gone better than I thought, but I think I have told it better. But it was OK. All the jokes were OK, I had heard about half of them, seen them on the Internet actually; but had forgotten them. Then I got paired with a gal and we practiced our tiny scene for about ten minutes. And then we were the first two to perform. I think our scene was good, I don't remember her name, but she was good to work with and IMO we had the best scene of the ones I saw. We were able to use the script with our scene, she had her lines memorized though. I thought I did, but I blew one line. I don't that was considered to be serious, though. I think I was the most relaxed of anybody that I saw, and if it wasn't a musical I think that I would have a good chance of getting cast. But singing-wise I wasn't even close to the others, not even close. Like I was from another planet. The gal I did the scene with said she knew the play. I do not, don't have a clue what it is about. I should have read it first, I know, but I am just too busy. But if they have a male part that doesn't do much singing, I may have a chance for that. I think I got close enough to enough notes that the musical director might think that they could hide a voice like mine in the chorus if they had to, but certainly not two like mine. I will know tomorrow if I made it or not, so I wanted to write this before I was influenced by the outcome. I guess I am so pumped because I feel that I really did well, considering I can't sing. I feel that I really did well just to pull it off as well as I did, regardless of the outcome. It was a great experience, a lot of fun. (I know I would not be so pumped if I had not been treated so kindly by the director and the musical director. They could have made this a real downer for me, and I could not have blamed them.) Well, I didn't get the part, but I don't think my teacher (director) seemed to mind that I auditioned. He told me in class that there was a role I would have been perfect for but his musical director had questions about my voice. He also said he liked my joke. So I thought that all that was very nice and it made me feel good; however, I know that it is a prime requisite for teachers in such a situation to be nice and encouraging to their students, so I am sure that even if he thought I stunk up the world he would have said exactly the same thing. Nevertheless, I am glad that I did it (won't ever do it again, though,) I have to admit that I had to overcome quite a bit of trepidation just to walk into the theater to do the audition, and that is probably why I was so hyped when it was over. Then, only a couple of weeks ago I saw the following article: Well, see, they do have roles in musicals for guys who can't sing! The first thing I did after reading this was to go out and rent "Spitfire Grill." I had seen it when it first came out, remembered it a little, and had a pretty good idea that the visitor had to be Hannah's son who lived in the woods, but I wanted to get it fresh in my mind. I figured that I was close enough to being in my 40s that I would go ahead and audition and let the director eliminate me rather than do it myself. In dressing for the audition, I wanted to have a visitor look without being blatantly obvious. I decided to wear my toughest looking levis with a long-sleeved tee shirt. On top of that I wore a insulated plaid shirt with a fairly large tear in the front and the sleeves rolled up exposing the long sleeves on the tee. (This is very close to my normal attire at times, particularly if I am working outside in cold weather.) I got to the theater about 2pm (auditions had started at 1pm,) and filled out a little fact sheet in the lobby. There were three or four people there and nobody was auditioning. I asked a woman who I should see about auditioning and she pointed to a guy talking to a woman, the first woman was leaving. I walked over to the guy and gave him my sheet and he asked me about reading something, something like what I wanted to read, and I said that I was auditioning for the visitor. He looked kind of surprised and said something like, "oh, the visitor, well thanks a lot," in a dismissive voice. So I said, "have you seen enough? (meaning of me,)" and he said yes. So I turned around and walked out and left. Halfway to my car it struck me that he asked me to read and not sing, so I turned around and walked back in and stopped in the lobby and asked him (he was only 20-25 feet away,) "you mentioned reading, you don't have any other parts that don't require singing? I can't sing." He smiled and said no and I left. The whole thing, including filling out the sheet, could not have taken more than four minutes, and I do not think the director saw me for over one minute, possibly not 30 seconds. I left feeling that there was no way I would get cast. It was my feeling that even though there were probably very few men seeking the part of the visitor, he would probably pick somebody who auditioned for a singing role but was not selected. Well, to make a long story a tad shorter, I got an email four days later telling me I had gotten the role. I was, and am, thrilled. I will not be needed at all the rehearsals for I am only in a small (but very important) part of the play (I have no idea how much, I have not seen the script, but this is what he emailed me.) I suspect that nobody but me wanted the role and it is a small role anyway. I expect that the visitor is covered with a beard and long hair, he was in the movie. None of this bothers me, I'm happy with anything. In my email enthusiastically accepting the role I offered to help with any carpentry work if needed. Today is 2/16 and the first cast meeting is 2/25. More on Spitfire Grill, including photos - Spring 2002 My acting class at Parkland College is going to give its "Showcase" on the last Sunday of class and I have been selected to do two monologues and a scene from Oleanna. I have learned a lot of monologues in my various acting classes. I like doing them. I think that the one that I do best is the "to be, or not to be" soliloquy from Hamlet. I actually learned it for a introduction to drama course I was taking at DACC. Although I have no desire to do Shakespeare (just the opposite,) I really like doing this soliloquy and I wish that someday I could do it for an audition. I was taking acting at Parkland concurrently and one of our assignments for that class was to write a "personal monologue" that we might or might not perform as a memorized monologue, depending upon what the instructor thought of it. He liked mine and it turned out that I did both Hamlet and my personal monologue for the class showcase at the end of the year. I insisted on doing Hamlet before my personal monologue, although many thought I should reverse that. I want to do Hamlet first because I am doing it absolutely seriously, whereas after one would hear my personal monologue he would wonder if the Hamlet was really serious. My personal monologue is true and from the heart, here it is: I never knew what I was getting myself in for. It started about a year ago when I read an article in the paper, that some local guy was making a movie and he wanted people to audition. Well, I got picked to play a small part as a cook with a few lines. I spent a couple of hours on a couple of Saturdays behind the grill in a Champaign restaurant; acting like I thought a cook should act, and saying a few lines. Needless to say, I loved it, and got hooked on acting. So now that I am "into" acting, I figured I should learn something about the theater, so I enrolled in an Introduction to Drama course. We just finished Oedipus Rex and now we are into Hamlet. At this point I have to admit that I am no fan of Shakespeare. I tried to read a book of his plays several years ago and got fed up in a hurry. Let's face it, the guy didn't use English. At least not the English that I was taught. Now the book I had, had all sorts of footnotes, (and I think even the footnotes had footnotes,) trying to explain what the various words meant, or what opposing panels of experts thought the words meant. But none of it meant shit to me. And as far as figuring out why so many people think he is so great - I sure as hell couldn't see anything to get excited about. Well, I know he's a fucking industry, but so is NASCar racing. I don't know which I'd rather not go to. Well, to get back to my Drama class, we got an assignment to go home and read Hamlet's soliloquy, the 'to be, or not to be' thing, over and over again until we felt we really understood it, and be prepared to read it out loud to the rest of the class. "Well shit," say I, "here I want to act; and I hear that every actor should have a Shakespeare monologue in his back pocket, so rather than read it, I guess I'll just memorize it and recite it." Have I mentioned that I often get some really dumb ideas? I've said that fucking soliloquy a million times and I still can't get the words right, much less figure out what emotion is involved. Why, you want to know why? I'll tell you why, the goddamned thing would be better written in German - then I wouldn't have a clue; and I wouldn't have to worry about what I was trying to say - just repeat the words and someone could tell me when I should be happy or sad, or act like I need to pee. Somebody ought to translate this sucker into modern American with a lot of "dudes" and "ya know what I means;" and then it would be a piece of cake. But to ask somebody to say: "There's the respect that makes calamity of so long life," like they know what the hell they are talking about is a fucking crime. A major fucking crime. Something's rotten in Denmark. So now my acting class at Parkland is finished along with the play, so my thespian activities have fallen off sharply. I have started the first of a five-course beginning improv program (each lasts eight weeks,) at The Second City in Chicago, and I love them. I think I am doing fairly well there, although we are ungraded, I think. I am also taking classes at Sarantos' Acting Studio in Chicago. There I am with actors who are quite serious about it and I find that to also be a somewhat intimidating atmosphere, but only because I make it so, everyone is quite nice. I find Ted Sarantos to be a really excellent teacher and he has helped me a lot. I still have an awful lot to learn though. I have come to believe that acting is a lot like cooking, or just food. Some is certainly better than other, but there is a lot of food that is just plain good, but perhaps not exactly to someone's taste. Sort of like a chili cook-off, every entry was delicious, and the winner won only because he just happened to particularly please a particular palate. And even lots of people are telling the winner that while it was really good, they would like it even better if only a little change could be made. Often I think the actor may serve up a beautiful scrambled egg, just perfect; but his critic just happens to think eggs over easy are better. Matter of taste. I reached this belief after watching several different acting teachers reacting with students (not me,) and finding that I often liked best the student's work that the teacher liked least. I may not know how to act, but I think I know how to observe or be an audience member as well as anyone, so I just have to say that the teachers and I often have different tastes. I think nobody is wrong. I may change this view with experience, who knows? In early June, 2002 I saw the following article in the paper. I was also contemplating putting a new roof on the house and getting started right away. The week before the auditions, I had been talking to my daughter Liz over the phone and telling her how big a project the roof was going to be and that I really didn't think I should audition because if I got cast, I would just be too busy. Although I really did want to audition, just to get experience auditioning. I did not think I had much chance of getting cast, but if I did happen to, I felt there was no way I could refuse and say I was just auditioning for the fun of it. Se we had pretty well decided over the phone that it would be a bad idea for me to even audition. The night of the audition I was on the roof removing shakes, which is a bitch of a job, I might add, and thought, "What the hell, I might as well go do it, I'll go down late so I won't have to wait so long for my turn, and I'll work until the last minute." Following is the text of an email I sent to friends telling what happened: Sent: Thursday, June 20, 2002 10:13 PM Subject: Double Cast & Speaking Too! The Red Mask Players in Danville are having a special program of four one-act plays, all written by area playwrights, which will be presented on July 26 and 27. Auditions for all four plays were last Monday and Tuesday. I am extremely busy removing our old shake roof and then I will be installing a new one. I am up at 4 am and usually busy until about 11 PM. So I had real doubts about even auditioning, simply because I am so busy. Then I thought why not, it will be good experience and you probably won't get cast anyway. I actually got down from the roof and got into my car and went down, so I was sweaty and really dirty, in a tank top and jeans. I really had a give-a-shit attitude because I kind of figured I was just wasting my time. I got there about a half hour "late" on Monday night, figuring I would only have to wait my turn anyway; and hoping that they would want monologues rather than readings. No such luck, and I should have gotten there on time, since the auditions were basically the reading of scenes. Everybody was seated in the theater and the four directors (all women,) were seated at a table and they just took turns calling out names. The named actors would then go onstage and read from the script of the director who called their names. I got called up to read for all four plays, a couple twice. One play was called "Picture This," and was short with only two characters: an ant and a cockroach. The ant has hired the cockroach to paint his picture and is posing. I know that I am really terrible at reading comedy, and after an audition at The Station about a month ago, where I disgusted myself at a poor comedic reading, I vowed that until I learned to read comedy well I would never read it again without lisping. The theory being that I could not make it worse and it might help. I listened as several people read for the ant, and I was just in the process of writing a note to the director saying that if she could tolerate an ant with a lisp, I would like to read for the part, when she called my name to read the ant's part. So I went up and did it with a lisp; no laughs from the audience (which laughed at a lot of things I did not think were really funny during other scenes.) Of course, the obligatory perfunctory applause at the end. When it was over Monday night everyone was asked to come back Tuesday night if they could, or else tell the directors that they would not be there. Tuesday I showed up on time in a white shirt and pair of shorts. I got called to read the ant again and figured I had the part, naturally I lisped again. I also got called to read for each of the other plays, too. Then when we finished up Tuesday, we were asked to wait while the directors huddled and did their casting. About fifteen minutes later they announced the four casts and I was picked to do the ant and also play Scrooge in "Scrooge Lives Upstairs," which take place in Alabama; I had to read with a southern accent for it. I have a fair amount of lines in it, certainly enough. So I felt pretty good about the whole thing. Only one other [wrong! three others were] person was picked for more than one play, and I felt good about being double cast, too. At tonight's first cast meeting the ant director told me she loved the lisp and we would do it that way. Chuck's Tip for the Day: If you can't read comedy, lisp. I would like to get all this on my web site, but I am just too busy. Maybe later. 7/3/02 Rehearsals for both plays are going well. Being the ant in Picture This is going to be fun. Last night we looked at costumes. As the ant I will wear a top hat (too small, will need a chin strap,) antennae, tuxedo coat (also too small) over a tee shirt dyed to match my boxer shorts and tights, black leather shoes and an extra set of arms. As Scrooge, I will wear silk pajamas and a nice robe and slippers. We have been off book in Picture This almost form the getgo, and last night was our first attempt at being off book in Scrooge Lives Upstairs. I have all the lines I could ever want, but I'm sure I have the smallest role in Scrooge Lives Upstairs by a pretty wide margin. I find memorizing monologues easier, I guess because there are no cues to worry about. As with Spitfire, I am the only greenhorn in the bunch. Everyone seems friendly, experienced and skilled and I really like my directors. I am less intimidated by this groups presence than I was in Spitfire, probably for couple of reasons: this is not a musical, and I have speaking parts. I am generally exhausted at the end of a day, rehearsal or not, because working on the roof is so tiring. The good news is that today I got the last of the shakes removed; and I think they are going to go on a hell of a lot easier than they came off. WRONG!!! (I have now started to make a web page for the 2002 F#%king Roof Project which is under construction.) 7/22/02 -Monday - Yesterday we had, I guess, a tech rehearsal with all four casts. This was the first time that I got to see the other two plays. Picture This and Scrooge Lives Upstairs have always rehearsed on the same nights, and I presume that Curtains and The Play's the Bling been together on other nights. I have to admit that when I read the four scripts I was not real enthusiastic about any of them. That feeling continued through auditioning. If I had to pick the one I liked the best it would have been The Play's the Bling. After seeing them performed I like them all better than I expected, but still can't be really enthusiastic about any of them. The order in which I like them is: The Play's the Bling, Curtains, Picture This and Scrooge Lives Upstairs. Sorry to say that the two I am in I like the least, it has nothing to do with my being in them, it is just what I think of the stories in general. The best thing about Scrooge Lives Upstairs is that Jennifer got the great idea to set it in Alabama, so we all talk with southern accents. That doesn't make it a good play, but it sure helps, at least from the actors' standpoint. If she had not thought of that I suspect that we would be a pretty dispirited crew. I was not very good with my lines yesterday, almost needed to be prompted once, and stumbled over words a couple of times. I left one sentence out, and mixed up a couple of others - those are just the errors that I noticed. Wilbur the Cockroach told me that I said that I wanted a picture that was "stateless and timely," instead of "stately and timeless." I did not even notice that. Well, its still five nights away, and thank god I don't have more lines. Here is the notice that was in this morning's paper regarding our plays: I just went down to the post office and ran into a Scrooge cast member and she told me I was on the cover of last Friday's weekly TV guide in the Danville paper (which I do not get, I get the Champaign paper.) So I went over to their office and bought a copy, and sure enough there I was: This is the little blurb that was on page 2: I just got home from rehearsal tonight (where I actually did not screw up too badly,) and the same gal gave me the following clipping from tonight's paper. I am amazed, naturally pleased also. However, it is obvious that the draw is not me but the great ant costume (nobody wanted pictures of me in my Scrooge bathrobe,) designed and built by Greg Duckett. So Greg, if you are reading this, and I suspect you will be, understand that I know that I am just the vehicle for your great work. These pictures are a tribute to you and your great designs and without that, I would be inkless. It is just too bad that it does not show the final costume, which has your improved chinstrap and the just great second set of arms. Here, on the left is Greg Duckett, the great costume designer; who, if Picture This has any success, will deserve a great deal of the credit. With us is Wilbur Bolton, Mr. Cockroach, the artist. This fall, Greg will be teaching at Iowa State in the Theater Department. Here are some photos from a dress rehearsal, starting with Picture This: Opening scene, I am posing for portrait - with dignity. Wilbur telling me that I am just looking for some action now that a new queen is in town. Wilbur telling me that I look like a capitalist exploiter of labor, a fop, a ballroom dancer maybe. Me assuming the pose of Sisyphus, after having the rock roll back down, and saying that I'm not sure I'll look dignified. Me recoiling from a type of picture Wilbur is recommending for me. Wilbur and I "walking like Egyptians." Just before the final scene, I am just coming up from pigging out on the food props. Whipped cream on my face. Next I get up and kiss Wilbur as lights go out. Picture This director Gaye Garner. That is the end of Picture This and what follows is from Scrooge Lives Upstairs. Wilbur and Janet as Isaiah and Mrs. Crump. Pete, as the ghost of Jacob Marley, and Matt as Icabod Crump. Matt, Wilbur, Janet, Pete, and Jennifer as Cassandra, Icabod's girlfriend. Jennifer is also the director. Jennifer, Matt, Wilbur and Janet. The women are denying that they saw the ghost. Pete, as the female ghost of Christmas Past, and Janet. (Making the ghost a female was another great idea by Jennifer.) Jennifer Matt, Wilbur, and Pete, as the ghost of Christmas Present. Janet and Tobi, as Mrs. Alexander, the forgetful neighbor who is always borrowing ingredients for her fruitcake. Pete, as the mute ghost of Christmas Future who communicates with an Etch-A-Sketch, Wilbur and Janet. Janet, Wilbur and me, as Scrooge, who is excitedly entering after having seen the ghosts and turning over a new leaf. I am overflowing with the Christmas spirit. Janet, Jennifer, me and Wilbur. Jennifer is giving me a hug because I have declared I will get rid of the rats just for her. (I am the Crump's landlord.) Matt, Jennifer, me and Wilbur. I am reading them the wonderful new lease I have prepared for them. Wilbur and Janet prepare to kiss for the happy ending. We open in two days, and then I shall wrap this up. 7/25/02 - Thursday - We just finished our invited dress rehearsal (with maybe a half a dozen people in the audience,) and I was feeling pretty smug after Picture This since Wilbur had a problem with one of his cockroach lines (I don't think it was big enough that the audience knew, although it led into our walking as Egyptians, which is a key part,) and I got all mine pretty well. After it was over, as we were hurrying to change for Scrooge Lives Upstairs, he apologized to me and I told him that it was no problem and it was good for me to see a real pro screw up a little. My smugness lasted all of about 40 minutes, for I completely forgot the simple line, "Oh dear me no, I told you I turned over a new leaf, and I really do want you to join me for dinner." I finally blurted out, "I turned over a new leaf," and could think of no more. Wilbur had the next line in which he thanked me, and after a very pregnant pause he came through with it, and I had no problem continuing. In this case, I am fairly sure that the audience knew that I was having a problem, maybe not, but I think so. In any case he saved my ass, and I thanked him for it as soon as he came off stage. Well, tomorrow night's the real thing, we'll see how it goes. 7/27/02 - Saturday - We just finished our second and final performances and I have to say that they went a lot better than I thought. Great audiences both nights, and we got so many laughs that I couldn't keep a straight face when I should have. I didn't think I was that funny but when the audience started laughing I got a little caught up in it. I did not blow any lines and was pleased with how things went. I even got some laughs as Scrooge. And I got more than a few very nice compliments from members of the audience. My lisping got a lot of laughs and while I was on stage getting those laughs I thought of the dead silence the lisp got at auditions - don't know what that means but it crossed my mind. Wilbur was a great cockroach and it was a pleasure working with him, as it was with the entire cast of Scrooge. As a beginner, I could not have been treated better. And I think I was a much too critical of the plays, for the audience seemed to receive all four very, very well. In fact, based on the audience reaction, I would say that Picture This was much better than I had given it credit for. I should be done with the roof in no more than two weeks, and with no rehearsals to go to, life will be very dull for me. But I'll get a bug up my ass about something. I will audition at the Red Mask and The Station for everything that comes along (except a musical part.) Today was also my last class of Beginners B Improv (see below) at the Second City, and I was quite low when I got back to Danville because I really, really sucked at SC. So the play performances picked me up a little; particularly the nice comments afterwards. And here are the notes I got from the directors: Improv Class at The Second City In March of 2002, I started taking an Improvisation Class at The Second City in Chicago. We meet every Sunday for 2.5 hours and the class lasts eight weeks and costs $225. The class I am in is Beginners A. The way the program works is that there is a series of five beginners courses, A through E. They each last eight weeks and cost the same, but starting with B, the time is extended to three hours per class. There are about 16 members in my class, and surprisingly, I am not coming the longest distance. A guy drives in from Cedar Rapids, Iowa and a gal comes in from someplace in Michigan. So coming from Danville, I am third on the long-distance list. Our instructor is named Stewart and is a performer fairly high in The Second City hierarchy. I should point out that after you finish Beginners E class, you can go on to the "Conservatory," for more classes, however to advance to the Conservatory, you must pass an audition. I have been told that roughly 50% of the students in Beginning A will wind up taking Beginning E; and roughly one person out of those will enter the conservatory. At some point beyond the conservatory, one apparently gets the opportunity to perform on one of The Second City stages or with their touring company. I do not know what the acme is, probably The Second City, but they have a Sky-Box Theater also, it's a big operation, with lots going on. I do not think Stewart is at the acme, but he is well up there someplace. Certainly qualified to teach us beginners. We spend our time in class playing games and actually improvising some scenes. We are un-graded, and that is a good thing. I think I am doing fairly well, although I have my doubts all the time. The classes can only be described as fun, lots and lots of laughs. However, they are also frustrating because often I just draw a blank when I need to be saying something. Being a beginner at both acting and improvisation, I make the following observation realizing that experience may change my point of view: Acting is to Improvisation as croquet is to high-speed chess. As I write this I am in Beginners B on Saturdays. I switched to Saturdays, because I had a schedule conflict on some upcoming Sundays. This means I have all new classmates, who have known each other since they started, whereas I am a new guy. I felt that my classmates in my Sunday class were pretty good and that I was (simply on my own assessment,) probably in the top half of the class. Not so with my new class, they are all just terrific. The best way to put my feelings after two sessions with my new class is as follows: I dreamt I died and went to Heaven and God said to me, "Chuck, I don't know why in hell I'm doing this, you sure as shit don't deserve it, but no matter, I sending you to the 10AM Saturday Morning Green class. They are the All-Stars and they need a water boy. You're him! Get your ass over there and don't screw it up, don't ask questions, don't say no, be a yes-and type of guy, and clean up your goddamned language." I said, "yes, maam," and She said, "Judas Priest, haven't you gone yet? Outa here, bozo, and try to do at least one of those four things I just mentioned, although I have no hopes even for that - you are one dumb, blue sonofabitch." I feel very intimidated with this group, for they are so good. I am certainly the bottom-dweller in this class. We have a great instructor, Ed Garza (photo on right,) who is a teacher at a private school and also a performer to a pretty big extent, I think. We still play games a lot and also do scenes. (There is a guy from Louisville, KY in this class, so I am second on distance traveled in this class.) With each new class the instructor changes, which is both good and bad I suppose, so in C we will get another instructor. Going to be hard to find one as good as Ed. In A we got very little negative critique, but in B that is starting to come a little, especially to me. Which is good. Improvisation really requires the actors to support each other and not try to run the show. I tend to be self-centered and intent on pushing my ideas (which are often vacuous at best,) perhaps because I was a boss so long (at least that is my excuse,) which is really bad for improvisation. I recognize the problem, and solve it while driving to every class; but then when I am performing everything is forgotten and I'm into my bad habits again. Of course the ultimate goal is to be funny, but for now I am happy if I just avoid stupidity. One of the gals in the class remarked on how she thought of such good things to say when she was in the car driving home from class. That is my story to a tee. On my way back to Danville, I think of things that would have been absolutely hilarious had I said them. Then I think, "Isn't this pathetic? An improviser who needs 90 minutes to come up with a response. 'Hi Folks! Give me a situation and then take me home and I'll come up with something really funny just as you are going to bed.'" Maybe I should try writing, or just quit. I am not ready to drop out yet, mainly because it is so much fun just watching my classmates, and I like the pressure when it is my turn, even though I am never satisfied and often really suck. I guess I am like a habitual losing high-stakes gambler: I like being on the edge, even though I know I am going to fall and crash. So I expect I will take C, if I do I will add to this rambling (for lack of a better word.) Well, I was so disappointed, disgusted really, with my performances by the time B ended, I decided that I should take some time off. I somehow feel that I can do it, but I sure have not been; so I may start up again with C in eight or 16 weeks, or I may just call it quits for good. I will miss watching my classmates very much. Well, on 5/31/03 I resumed at The Second City. I wanted to start with the "C" class, but the Saturday morning class was full. There was room in the "B" class at that time and since I would be retaking it, they said the tuition would only be 50%, so I couldn't pass that up. So far I have had three classes and it is going OK. We have a great instructor named Jack. Around the end of October, 03, after about 11 more classes, I decided to give up improv for good. Its funny, but I know the basic rules for improv, maybe better than my classmates. Sometimes I think I can explain them better than my instructors; but that makes no difference, I can't do it worth shit. And that's what counts. Two seconds before a scene starts I can be telling myself, "no questions and no denial" and the first words out of my mouth form a question. I figured that after around 40 weeks of trying, and still not being able to avoid such a simple mistake, was obvious evidence that I just did not have it as an improviser. It was a lot of fun, and I really don't feel bad about it. Since I never watch TV comedy shows or sit-coms, I was kind of a fish out of water anyway. On 6/14/03 the Danville Red Mask Players had their annual awards banquet, which turned out to be a very dressy affair, and I went because I was quite interested to see who would get the Katy Awards (named after Kathryn Randolph, a past benefactor to Danville theater,) for best male and female actor and supporting actor. They also give a Katy for the best "cameo" performance, which is a bit part. One of my actor friends told me that he thought that I should get the cameo Katy for my role as Mr. Prescott in "George Washington Slept Here," which I was in this spring (and which I failed to make a web page for.) I thought there was a chance of that because I thought I played the part pretty well, but their was a lot of competition, too. I had figured that my role as Ruckley in "Cuckoo" would be classified as supporting because he had told me that he thought it was, and also because I was on the stage so much. Well, to make a long story short, Ruckley was classified as a cameo role and Mr. Prescott was classified as supporting. That turned out to be a good deal for me, because I got the Katy for Ruckley. Made me feel good. This is what it looks like: Top Return to Chuck's Home Page