Spirit of Christmas Pants

(From an actual Christmas Eve conversation.) MOM: I've never been one to pry. ME: I've always appreciated that. MOM: But I couldn't help notice you have a pair of shiny silver pants in the back seat of your car. ME: They're for a show. MOM: Oh. (beat) What kind of show? ME: It's a kind of science-fiction/comedy thing. MOM: (skeptically) I see. ME: Look, don't judge the pants without seeing the rest of the outfit, OK? MOM: You aren't going to wear them on the street, are you? ME: They're for a show!

Take a Trip With Me

A friend kindly pointed out that if I want people to attend my current performance, I should provide some information about it. The show is called Holidaze, and I appear as a larger-than-life character in a wild and crazy sketch called "The Day Tripper." It's whacky, zany stuff that the opening-night audience ate up with a spoon.

Fridays at 8 p.m. through Jan. 13
Second Stage
431 N. Brookhurst
Suite 140
Anaheim, CA
(714) 502-2249
http://tinyurl.com/4o7c6

Not So Tiny, Now

A Christmas Carol closed just in time. Tiny Tim, who was pregnant, got harder to carry every week. But I'll sure miss it. It was a great cast and an exciting production to be part of, and although I wasn't the star I got to exercise my chops in a lot of ways: broad comedy, high drama, heavy exposition, even a little singing and dancing. (Although I'm no threat to... uh, you know, that famous singing, dancing, acting guy.) The best show was probably the one we did for a theater full of sixth-graders. I wasn't sure they'd appreciate our faithful telling of this old story, but they laughed without inhibition at the humor and were utterly silent during the dramatic scenes, except for the sniffles. I'd like to think we touched a few of them, but it is cold and flu season. We also had a large group of high-school students (and high-school students do seem larger than ever). I think they were there for extra credit, but even they were very attentive. Maybe there was going to be a quiz afterward, but I like to think we reached them--us and that Dickens guy.

Unorthodox Christmas

I've just taken a role in another holiday show. Holidaze will open Dec. 23, a scant week after Carol closes, and continue well after even Orthodox Christmas is over. Oh, well, if my father can leave the artificial tree up all year, I guess I can do this. Keep the badnjak burning!

Two Little Words

In case you're still wondering, this is a blog of me, by me, and for me. I am my own principal author, chief topic, and target audience. But just to prove I'm not entirely self-centered, I will devote a large chunk of this entry to the opinions of someone else, namely, Press-Telegram theater critic John Farrell: "Keith Bush is a warmly believable Bob Cratchit." OK, so "warmly believable" isn't exactly "stunningly brilliant," but it was nice to see it in print this morning, nonetheless. I didn't know if he'd mention me, or what he'd write if he did. Of all the words he might have chosen, those weren't bad. The first thing the director told me about the character was that warmth was the key to making it work. And Cratchit is so different from me and the range of emotion so great, believability was a big concern of mine. Oh, John also wrote several hundred words that didn't directly concern me. Some highlights: "The sheer complexity of the production is worth the admission price. Nine actors fill the piece's 38 roles.... [Bart Shattuck] has the presence and range to make Scrooge believable, whether he is being penurious, frightened half to death by the ghosts that visit him or gleefully happy when he finally discovers Christmas.... The rest of the cast proves its versatility in quick scene changes, faster costume changes and the ability to use the limited space of the Black Box to full effect. Brando Cutts is perhaps the king of the fast change in this production. He goes from the white ghost of Marley to a storybook genie to three other roles, including the Ghost of Christmas Present, in what seems like less time than it takes to tell about the changes.... Zavanna DeLaRoca is delightful as Tiny Tim.... a homey (and professional) telling of a great story, much of it in the author's rich language. If Christmas is a time for simple pleasures (and it is, despite all the advertising to the contrary), this is exactly the kind of show that brings those pleasures home. Nothing spectacular, nothing too fancy, just a rich and pleasant eveninng for family and those who love Dickens."

Shirley Says, "Float"

Yesterday evening, Shirley MacLaine told me that when she first came to California, she was more interested in the fashions and the climate than in becoming a serious actress. I didn't buy it. Surely someone doesn't make that many films, win that many awards and reach that level of fame without relentless struggle. She explained "The Law of Inverse Effort" to me. If you're at sea and you thrash around in a panic, you drown. If you relax and float, you survive. Then, she caught me off guard by asking me about my goals. I shyly talked a little about how I felt about acting and how I denied it to myself for years and only pursued it recently because I'm "beyond humiliation." She congratulated me and said it takes some people a lot longer to reach that point. The truth is, I still get self-conscious, embarrassed, mortified even, but I don't let it stop me from doing what I want to do. After all, life has thrown much worse things at me, with far less of a payoff. So I'll stretch myself, take risks, sing a little song, do a little dance, even wear a funny wig, and just maybe I'll help somebody think about things a little differently or forget their troubles for a while. If nothing else, maybe they'll feel better about themselves because they aren't signing the song, dancing the dance, wearing the wig, and I guess that's OK too. Let them take from it what they will, what they can, what they need. I'm just floating with the currents and feeling fine.

Why Haven't You Called?

I had fun. I thought you did too. Did I do something wrong? Was it something I said? Were you only pretending to like me? Did you want to see how far I would go? Was it just some kind of game to you? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like that. It’s just, I think we could have had something really special. We still can, if you’ll pick up the phone and call. OK, maybe it’s too soon. Maybe you’ll call in a couple of days. But why not now? I mean, if you want me, why do we have to play around like that? Don’t you want me? What’s wrong with me? If you let me know, I’ll fix it. I know I came on sort of strong, but I just wanted it so badly. I’ll take it at your pace, be whatever you want me to be. Or did you decide to go with someone younger? Better-looking? How can you be so shallow? If you give me a chance, you’ll see how happy I can make you. I know I’ll never hear from you again. You forgot all about me as soon as that other one walked in the room. Don’t think I didn’t notice. So that’s your type? Whatever. You’re all the same. No, I didn’t mean it. Maybe you don’t realize how much I care. Maybe I should call you, just to say thanks and wish you the best. What am I thinking? That would probably creep you out and I’d lose whatever chance I have. Do I have a chance? Why don’t you call? I don’t need you anyway. I’ll find someone else who wants me. Someone who'll give me something deeper and more meaningful than cheap thrills and good times. You’ll see. Are you going to call or not? (Yeah, the audition is fun, but the next day sucks!)

I Like Auditions!

An audition is just a compressed, accelerated little performance--a chance to connect with an audience (albeit a small, critical one), and maybe make someone laugh or even move them a little. If that doesn't work, hopefully I've learned something, or at least had a chance to hone my skills. So I've auditioned thrice in the past eight days, even though my current play has a few weeks left to run. A stitch in time, idle hands, yadda yadda. Each time, I've felt that same rush of adrenaline that comes from actually doing a show. Kim beamed with joy and told me I was amazing. Kelly laughed out loud at all the right places and thanked me profusely. Neither one of them gave me a role. (Talk's cheap, Kim and Kelly! Actions speak louder than words! Don't make me hurl more cliches at you!) Tonight I auditioned for a part I wasn't even sure I wanted in a production that sounded a little sketchy, but once I got started I gave it 100 percent. By the end I was in love with the character and the project, and I think the director felt pretty good about me. I certainly projected, emoted and took possession of the stage, which I think is what was called for--no subtle introspection here. People who know me as the quiet guy who spends the whole party standing in a corner nursing a beer and holding a plate full of those little quiches would not have recognized me. So I was feeling pretty good until the director asked me to dance -- just a couple of steps, she said. But then she added more, and more, and more.... No one told me I'd be dancing. I never said I could dance. And in the end, I'm not sure you could call what I did dancing. But I took a risk and did something entirely new and different and unexpected and had fun, and that's kind of what this acting thing is about.

In My Head/In the Dark

"My, isn't the sewing coming along nicely?" (Why are they sewing an overcoat? They were never sewing an overcoat during rehearsals. Does the audience see that it's an overcoat? Does it matter? Whoops, I'm worrying about the audience; that's bad. Now I'm judging myself for worrying about the audience; that's worse. Get back in the moment, now! Back!) "Such nimble fingers." (Why did the lights just go out? Is this some kind of comment on my performance, like getting the hook? Maybe they decided to trim the scene and forgot to tell me? Why would they do that? Should I wait for them to go back on? What if they don't go back on?) "I've just been to the place where Tim will rest. I wish you all could have seen it." (I wish we could see something. Or at least be seen.) "We'll visit every Sunday." (Oh, great, here come the lights just in time for my unconvincing emotional breakdown.) "My little child!" (Is that... a cell phone? Yes, yes, it's a cell phone. In 1843!) I left the stage feeling like a complete fraud but, amazingly, another member of the cast congratulated me afterward for not missing a beat and audience members said (before I had a chance to prompt them!) they scene moved them to tears. I'm pretty sure Dickens deserved the credit for that, but since I was there and he wasn't, I took a share of it.

Being Bob

Last night at 8 p.m. I stood on a dark stage, wondering if it was too late to slip away unnoticed. Surely someone else would remember my lines well enough to cover for my absence. All I knew was that the stage doors had magically sucked every bit of dialogue out of my head. But before I knew it, the lights went up, and the last note of the requiem (how appropriate) faded. I put on my derby, faced the audience and started talking. Words came out of my mouth as if they were my own, not some text I was struggling to remember. I don't know if I'll ever get used to that sensation or fully understand the phenomenon, but I'm sure glad for it. Once the play started rolling there was no more time to be nervous as I bounced around from Narrator to Cratchit to Schoolmaster to Fezziwig to Miner to Topper to Businessman and back again. (The rest of the cast plays multiple roles too, so as much activity as there is onstage there's even more off, with continual lightning-fast costume changes.) Topper is the most fun role for me, as he's all about having a good time. As Fezziwig I was nearly swallowed whole by the wig from hell, but I survived. But Bob Cratchit is the most challenging and the most rewarding part for me by far. Although the dialogue isn't extensive, he's called upon to show a wide range of emotions and create meaningful connections with several other characters. To be honest, it's not the role I wanted or expected. I had my eye on a couple larger-than-life characters who deliver important messages in grand, flowery language, not a simple, down-to-earth clerk, husband and father. Now of course I can't imagine not being Cratchit. I could write more, but it's time to get ready for tonight's show.

Passing Shadow

The Anaheim 2005 cast of Tales From the Shadow Zone has taken its final bows, and I've put away the bow tie and Ben Nye stage blood. It was definitely time to move on. Doing a Halloween show on Nov. 5 was pushing it, even if we did beat The Simpsons by 24 hours. But ending the show was bittersweet. As much as I look forward to new challenges and opportunities, I'll miss getting together with the rest of the cast next weekend—another little family formed and dissolved in a matter of weeks. But our paths may cross again soon. When I showed up at the theater last night, I met a guy from Pan who was there to work on another show, in which he'd just got the lead. Also last night, I learned that in Hollywood even the homeless have notes. A street person came in from the cold (he must have been comped) and stayed to critique some of the actors, but not me. Either he was pleased with my performance or thought it unworthy of comment. IMHO, The Woods Beast didn't sizzle quite like last week, but The Girlz reached new heights of... something.

Take that, Martians!

Last night was a real hoot! As an actor I generally have to respect the fourth wall, which means I don't get to watch the audience reactions, other than peripherally. As a narrator, however, it was appropriate for me to tell the story directly to them, and to watch them, keenly and closely. It was fun to see them hang on my every word (OK, they were really H.G. Wells' words, but they were mine for an hour or so.) I think it really helped create a connection. But it was also nerve-wracking sitting up there the whole time, never retreating backstage or even upstage, and having to convey mood and emotion without making any huge gestures, running around, or knocking things or people about (which I'm sure is exactly what Stanislawski had in mind). And I couldn't get away with the mental trick of pretending the audience didn't exist. Fortunately I was far from alone up there, sharing the stage with five fine actors, one of whom is going to play Scrooge in A Christmas Carol and was also responsible for the bulk of last night's sound effects, in addition to a star turn as a survivalist.

Mars Attacks!

This Halloween night, I'll be on hand to narrate the invasion. This dramatic reading draws from the H.G. Wells classic, incorporating scenes and characters absent from the well-known film, TV or radio adaptations but essential to the author's vision.

Making Christmas

"Time to give them something fun they'll talk about for years to come. Let's have a cheer from everyone. It's time to party. Making Christmas...." So, now I'm a carpenter! Well, not really, but I have been helping to build the set for A Christmas Carol. We built a massive platform that elevates the actors to increase our visibility (not to mention making us look taller and more important). We're thinking of calling this revolutionary structure a "stage". But that's just the beginning. If you saw a Black Box Theatre production earlier this year and come back for this one, you'll be amazed at the transformation. I'm just amazed that I'm doing construction work. It's the first time I've done anything like this since flunking wood shop in the seventh grade. But I'm doing so well they've given me the all-important job of sorting screws!

The Hollywood Zone

On Thursday I got a frantic call. The actor who plays Robert in the Hollywood cast of Tales From the Shadow Zone couldn't make the Friday night performance. Could I please, please, please step in? Well, in the proud tradition of Underdog and Mighty Mouse, I answered the cry for help. Actually, I just seized an opportunity for a few extra minutes in the spotlight, but I can pretend like I'm some sort of hero. So tonight I found myself playing a familiar role with an unfamiliar cast in an unfamiliar venue. It was very interesting to experience how their personalities and choices affected the onstage dynamics and caused me to make different choices in reaction to them. Okay, it was still about four people in a cabin surrounded by monsters, but it had a whole different energy—not better or worse, just different. It was a clear demonstration of the living, organic nature of theater.

Inside the CD Club

Hey, I'm a casting director! Well, maybe not, but in the past few days I've been helping a technophobic director complete the cast of a play by posting notices online, screening applicants and scheduling auditions. So, like everyone else who has been involved in that side of the casting process for more than a minute, I now have advice to offer actors. How much is that worth to you? Nothing? Well, that's what I'm charging. These tips pertain particularly to actors using online casting services. Tip No. 1: Smile! I want to work with happy people. Besides, if I don't see your teeth in at least one of your photos, I'm going to wonder if they're little, brown, crooked and pointy. If you have little, brown, crooked, pointy teeth, you might as well let me see them now. They may actually be what I'm looking for. Tip No. 2: Provide an e-mail address. You're online. I'm online. Wouldn't it be great if I could reach you right now -- online? Oh, wait, there's another actor with comparable looks and experience and an e-mail address. I wonder which one I'll contact first. Okay, so two tips is all you get. It's free, and I told you I haven't been doing this long.

Brush With a Brush With Fame

So I'm at the Westwood Brewing Company (which isn't a brewing company at all) with an actress you've never heard of when she says, "I'm going to talk to Marisa Tomei" and leaves the table. A few minutes later she comes back and announces, "I just hugged Marisa Tomei," as indeed she had. Kind of makes me wonder how many other Oscar-winning actors I've been within hugging distance of without realizing it during all my years in and around L.A. Even when I've been on sets with famous people, I'm slow to recognize them. Well, there you have it: my first celebrity name-dropping. Pretty soon I'll resort to pictures of cute, furry animals.

The Girlz and I

Hey, that was all right! We had 18 people in the audience, which may not sound like a lot but for a show that got very little promotion opening in a 49-seat theater in the back of an office building in a nondescript area of Anaheim, ain't too shabby. After a brief introductory scene came the first of four self-contained episodes, "The Girlz," in which I play a nerdy scientist with a couple of dedicated personal assistants. The girlz and I have really hit it off. In fact, they demanded I step into the role after the original lead left the cast, and now they say I'm perfect for the part, which is kind of flattering and insulting at the same time. The second sketch, "The Virus," I'm not in, so it can go to hell. Then, after intermission, comes "A Date in Time." I can't say too much about my role in that, but it involves holding still for what seems like a very long time. My last appearance was in "The Woods Beast," which I was worried we hadn't rehearsed enough, but other than lights going up and down at random, one character having to exit through a window because the door was stuck shut, sound cues that consisted of silence or white noise, and my own Wizard of Oz moment (Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. Thanks a lot, Toto!), it went great! We just stuck with the characters and and did our best to keep the energy up and move the scene forward, and the audience seemed to enjoy it on one level or another!

The Curse of the Woods Beast

Wanna hear something really scary? One of the vignettes mentioned a post or two below this one hasn't had a full cast rehearsal for three weeks. Perhaps I shouldn't broadcast the fact on a public blog, but since judging by the lack of comments no one but me actually reads the damn thing, what the hell. Anyhoo, I was on my way to a rehearsal tonight when one of the other cast members calls to tell me she was having car trouble. Aiieee! Then, while I'm sitting alone in the dark parking lot, the director -- who has the keys to the building -- calls to tell me his car broke down. Aiieee! Eventually, another cast member shows up and says he only came to audition for another play. Aiieee! We open Saturday. Aiieee! Will the cast show up? Will we have rehearsed first? There's only one way to find out! Tales From the Shadow Zone, Second Stage Theatre, El Rancho Plaza Suite 140, Saturdays through Oct.29th at 8 p.m., 714-502-2249.

Here We Come a-Caroling

I just got back from the first read-through for A Christmas  Carol and I am definitely feeling the spirit. It's a very faithful adaptation, meaning all of the great lines are intact and undiluted. After seeing so many modern retellings I'd almost forgot how powerful the original is and filled with cheer, pathos, and wit, often in a single paragraph. And although the world has changed much since Dickens' time, the issues he addressed are just as relevant today. I'm going to enjoy immersing myself in this for the next several weeks.

Holiday Spirits

'Tis the season for struggling actors to find work in holiday-themed productions. Leading up to Halloween is the previously mentioned Tales From the Shadow Zone, in which I now find myself playing three parts. I swear I'm not bumping people off in order to take over their roles! On All Hallow's Eve itself it looks like I'll be taking part in a dramatic reading of War of the Worlds with my old friends the Long Beach Shakespeare Company, and soon I'll be in rehearsals for A Christmas Carol, details TBD. (What happened to Thanksgiving? Maybe I can find a production of The Crucible or something.)

Are You Frightened?

How do you suppose I feel?

Recast

Today I was upgraded from two walk-ons to a lead and a walk-on! Tales From the Shadow Zone is four sketches and a wrap-around, so there are actually quite a few "lead" roles, but now I've got some material I can sink my.... whoops, don't want to give anything away.

Rezoned

Last weekend I saw Moliere's The Miser at the theater where I appeared for several weeks this summer. Très amusant, but also a strangely melancholy experience, seeing our squalid cabin transformed into a bourgeouis drawing room, French dandies mincing and scheming where gods and nymphs had fought and frolicked. At moments I felt like jumping out of my seat to join them, but I knew that would be most unwelcome. There comes a time to let go, move on and make way, and that was, what, two and a half weeks on closing night? In that same spirit, I am no longer a Second City student. I was not, am not and never will be interested in short-form ensemble improv. Not that there's anything wrong with it, it's just not where my passion lies. I took the immersion workshop to broaden my skills as an actor and I succeeded, but I also got caught up in the excitement and camaraderie. I surprised myself by passing the audition for the conservatory program, but almost immediately began to suspect that my time and resources could be better spent elsewhere. Yes, it was fun, and yes, I made progress, but it was time to move on and rededicate myself to my own path, which does not lead to eventually becoming the oldest member of the Mad TV cast. So I've been working and auditioning, and today I find myself cast in a stage project called Tales From the Shadow Zone. Scary, huh? We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Might As Well Jump

It's a pogo stick! It's a motorcycle! No, it's definitely a pogo stick. Whatever it is, I created the Web site, and you definitely need one. Ladies and gentleman, I give you the eighth wonder of the world... Motostik!

Dejesification

Saturday night, after six exciting weeks of performances (and seemingly as many months of rehearsal), the cast of Pan took their final bows before an appreciative standing-room-only audience. Much revelry followed, during which a couple of newly retired nymphs compelled me to dance to Shake Your Booty, a fate which I had somehow managed to avoid until now. It was slightly less embarrassing than my karaoke rendition of Rocket Man the previous night. I'll miss seeing the other cast members regularly, but I won't miss the beard, which fell in bits into my bathroom sink before the sun came up the next day. I didn't really have a choice, as I had to audition for a part as a nerdy accountant (as opposed to the stereotypical action-hero accountant you see in so many movies) and then go play a doctor in a commercial -- except they had changed up the shooting schedule and when I got there they turned me into a patient. No big thing, as in this case they paid the same. I was a little disturbed that they were taking pains not to show my newly shaven face, until they explained I was too young and healthy looking. I could accept that. I still get paid, right? Monday and today were largely devoted to copyediting and site-building. Still found time to apply for more of those doctor and lawyer-type roles though. I may not be a highly paid professional, but I can play one on TV.

Father & Son

Almost as soon as I was cast in Pan, I decided not to invite my born-again Christian father. Although I've tried to approach the character of Jesus respectfully, the content and overall themes of the play mean it's not likely to become a favorite among Sunday-school teachers any time soon. But when one of the cast members said there was an older gentleman downstairs who looked a lot like me, I got a sinking feeling. When the stage manager asked me if I knew who the man in the cowboy hat was, my fears were confirmed. Well, family issues or not, the show must go on. If anything, my performance was edgier than usual. When I went downstairs after the play to face the music, my father surprised me by telling me how much he liked the show. And I'm pretty sure he meant it because he didn't use words like "interesting" or "different." He seemed to enjoy it more than my secular-humanist mother, in fact. Afterward we hung out with the cast, and he shared a story of seeing an out-of-town tryout of "Oklahoma." It turns out my father is a theater buff from way back!

Beverage Service

It's been a long day. I had an early call time out in Agoura Hills, where I worked on a public service announcement about stopping financial abuse of seniors. In this case, work consisted largely of lying on my back drinking beer, as I was playing a ne'er-do-well son stealing from his elderly father. I felt good about the work and it was for a good cause, but I may not let my parents see this one. I don't want them to get the wrong idea about me. Tonight was another performance of Pan. The audience tonight was very enthusiastic and receptive, and several of the performers seemed to find something new. It amazes me that after so many nights of rehearsal and performance, there are still discoveries to be made.

Oh, Henry

Last night some of the cast of Pan saw a rousing Henry V, presented as part of the 7th annual Long Beach Shakespeare Festival. Ron Elwell in the title role delivered the trademark speeches ("Once more into the breach..." and "We few, we happy few...") stirringly, Laura Kaplan was enchanting as Katherine of France despite speaking only a few words of English, and Stephen Wood as the Chorus and Exeter spoke with authority and clarity. I put together a photo album (pictures by Kristin Autry) at lbshakespeare.com/gallery. It plays one more weekend at the Long Beach Aquarium. Call 562-997-1494 for more info.

Back for Seconds

After weeks of internalizing and projecting someone else's words and ideas, it was both challenging and refreshing to be asked to write my own lines on the fly again. This week I returned to Second City LA, now a student in the conservatory program. Out of the 13 Immersion Workshop students with whom I auditioned, three are in the class with me. I had naively expected just to pick up where I left off six weeks ago, but now in place of all that existing trust and camaraderie I have new classmates and a new teacher, and it's been a while since I stretched those improv muscles. I think I laid an egg in the chicken sketch (ouch). But a few things seemed to click, and I'm confident by the end of session I'll have picked up a few new skills and hopefully some new friends as well.

Sitting on the Dock of the Bay

One more three-nights-one-matinee weekend behind us. Today I projected less wrath, more compassion. Evan (young Pan) complimented me on the choice. I had to smile at getting praised for my Jesus by a sincere young man wearing horns and goat legs. You just can't judge by appearances. Afterward I went out with another actor and ended up at the marina listening to an impromptu drum solo. When I got up this morning I had no idea I'd find myself outdoors at the water's edge on a beautiful summer night, intoxicated with the rhythms of a topless beauty at one with her djembe. What would Pan do?

Shameless Exhibitionism

Over at MySpace I've posted some snaps from projects in which I've appeared this year. If you're not registered (free) you won't be able to view the index, but you can still flip through the pix using the "previous" and "next" links at the bottom of the page. Seeing all these pictures together, it occurs to me that I may be a bit odd. Posting them for the world to see confirms it.

Praise for Pan

Finally, our first review! An excerpt: "An invigorating trip back in time, Andrew Marshall’s Pan at the Long Beach Shakespeare Co.—which Marshall also directed—finds the once-mighty, still-proud, soon-to-be-dead Olympian god sequestered with two nymphs in an Oregon cabin.... He’s been supplanted in the realm of spirituality by Jesus Christ (Keith Bush) and in the realm of materialism by Diamond Jim Brady (Dylan Seal), both of whom are pleased to remind him of his irrelevance.... At times rapturous, at times demonic, always compelling, the play brims with energetic dialogue, pathos and visuals that rivet us to our seats.... Seal’s Brady—pompous, portly, pretentious and smug—and Bush’s Jesus—holier-than thou, dogmatically intransigent—show what we’ve done to Pan: we’ve broken him up into components, half Dionysus, half Apollo.... Daring and fresh, it’s enacted with a passion that reminds us that while it may not be nice to mess with Father Nature, it certainly makes for good theater." — James Scarborough, OC Weekly.

Playing G_d

Despite rumors of his death, great Pan is alive and unwell, holed up in Oregon with only his memories, delusions and two aging nymphs for company as he rails against a changing world that once belonged to him. That's the premise of Pan, making its world premiere under the auspices of the Long Beach Shakespeare Co. I play Jesus, who confronts the aging goat-god in a series of highly charged visions. In an odd bit of double-casting, I also have a couple of walk-ons as a follower of Pan. Hopefully this won't be as confusing to the audience as it was to me. I think I've got it all sorted out now. I just got back from our first dress rehearsal, tired but excited. This should be an entertaining and provocative piece of theater. More info: 562-997-1494.

In the Pits

Life isn't all parties and applause (not yet, anyway). I was coding HTML and resizing photos into the wee hours of the morning for Pit Racer, for which I freelance regularly. My title is "Web editor"; my actual duties include editing copy for each print issue and consulting with the publisher on various aspects of the magazine as well as maintaining the Web site. It's a lot of work, but it's steady income — steadier than acting, anyway. And while large men on tiny bikes may not be art, they can be entertaining. Visit the site and see what I mean.

Skyrockets over L.A.

I just got home from a Fourth of July party at the home of the beautiful and multi-talented Heather Marie Marsden. The guest list was full of industry people, but I was well-behaved and only handed out two business cards all night — and those were to the same person. Well, he was with a company that publishes magazines and produces films, so how could I resist giving him a card for each of my vocations? Mostly, though, I just caught up with some friends, enjoyed terrific views of local fireworks, met some fascinating new people, and got my spine aligned by a motion-picture stuntman. Now compared to that, improv isn't scary at all, but I did leave feeling a little more upright. How many people can say that about a Hollywood party?

2006 Is Coming! Give Me Money

Yes, the 2006 Day-At-A-Glance DOG FANCY Calendar is on its way, with hundreds of pictures of precious pups and dogs to die for, each accompanied by a fascinating fact or helpful hint, written by me (but without so much alliteration). That's right, you'll get a message from me on every page. What a bargain at $12.99! Unfortunately, I get no royalties, but if you purchase a copy through one of the links on this page, I will (in theory) get a small commission. Buy it any other way and I get bupkus, thank you very much. If you want to give me money without getting a calendar, click on the donation button near the bottom of the right-hand column. I don't know why you would, but I don't know why people do a lot of things.

Good Folk, Bubbles and Smoke

I spent a few hours with some former classmates at a hookah bar last night. (Don't smoke! It's a filthy habit. But if you do, the mango-flavored tobacco is particularly yummy.) I met this lovely and talented group of people through the UCLA Extension acting program. We had some great times hanging out after class, but I hadn't seen them in months when it hit me that they might be drifting away. So I made a beeline for Westwood to make sure I got at least one more look at them. I'm glad I did, especially after learning that two are leaving L.A. soon. Oh, it's not like they're going to another planet and never coming back, but it will make seeing each other less likely for a while. There are lots of things I love about acting, but the people I've met probably top the list. As a journalist I've interviewed and written about some famous and fascinating subjects, but there are so many other gifted people out there to be appreciated. Working with them in this way creates connections on levels that are difficult to reach in other aspects of life.

Simon Says, "Look Away!"

Tonight I reunited with some of my improv pals (see previous post) at an audition. It was great reconnecting with them and experiencing some of that old magic that we last felt, oh, six long days ago. In the audition, my scene partner intentionally made me his lover and I accidentally made him a kangaroo. Things like that happen when you improvise, I guess. Actually, when I think about how some of my real-life relationships have ended, that's not so bad. From there the night just got weirder, as I rushed to Universal Studios and had the otherworldly experience of sitting in a dark theater, surrounded by strangers, watching myself take a shower on the big screen. Well, that's show business. I played a character named Simon in a short film called The Sensualist. He's a quirky cultist who handles the bulk of the film's exposition, helps set the mood and facilitates the final, brutal confrontation between protagonist and antagonist. The shower segment is mercifully brief and contains only what we in the biz call implied nudity; basically just my head and shoulders are exposed. Still, I squirmed and wanted to shout, "I'm wearing shorts!" For the bulk of my screen time I'm fully dressed, and I get to deliver some juicy chunks of dialog and take some interesting emotional turns. I did get some nice comments afterward -- on my acting, not my milky white skin. Thanks to director Angelica Rodriguez and writer Gabriel Fregoso for making me part of this stylish and intriguing project. After the screening, there was free food. Actors love free food.

A Week Without a Script

I'm still buzzing from a wild week in the world of improvisational acting. Here's the main thing I learned from the Immersion Workshop at The Second City Los Angeles Training Center: Improv is hard. But it's exhilarating too. I also learned to be more deeply aware of my partners, accept their offerings, try to give more back, and let things move forward organically in a framework of trust and mutual support. If that sounds more like a relationship seminar than an improvisation workshop, I guess that's the point. The Second City teaches "connecting emotionally" more than "making up stuff." The one-week course comprises five consecutive days of six-hour classes (including breaks) culminating in a performance before invited guests and paying audience members. To tell the truth, I took it mainly to have something else to put on my acting resume and to help with auditions, but if I'm not careful I could become addicted. I even went to an improv jam last night for another fix. I don't know whether to blame the sheer thrill of performance or the infectious enthusiasm of the faculty: Amazing Amy Seeley, Musical Michael Pollock, and most especially Rockin' David Razowsky. I already miss them and my fun-loving improv-class buddies. I hope we meet again soon.

The Course