Question of the Week: What's the Deal with the Fall Season?

Is it the fall season, or is it just me? Truly--and I don't mean to be overly dramatic about this, even though arguably this is exactly the place for it--I can't figure out why this season feels so lackluster, and why I can't connect with anything out there. Granted, as evidenced (I hope) in my post from a few weeks back, Follies was well worth the price of admission. And also granted, the season is still relatively young. But last week, I planned to grab some tickets and see a show at the spur of the moment, and and for the first time in, like, forever, I just couldn't muster up the energy to see anything.

So I ask: is this me, or is there something up with this season? Is there in fact too much of the same old shit out there? Is it that all the real drama, down on Wall Street and across the country, is sucking the energy out of the theater at the moment? Are my own admittedly middlebrow, mainstream tendencies causing me to miss out on something fabulous in some small park, abandoned warehouse, or blackbox theater in the further reaches of our huge city? Hae I just tired of the same old gimmicks, the same old family dramas, the same old revivals, even the same old attempts to be avant garde? What am I missing? What must I see? Or are you as down on the season as I am? Please, weigh in!

Michael Holland's Putting a Spell on Broadway: An Interview

Several years ago, a friend insisted I had to see Gashole. I actually misread his e-mail invitation as Gash Ole. Turns out, it was not a Mexican drag act. I was too sick to go to the theatre, sneezing and coughing almost non-stop, spraying more toxic air than a beauty-pageant hairdresser. Sitting in the second row, the performers should have had Haz-Mat suits, and I should have stayed home. I’m glad I didn’t. Gashole (aka Michael Holland and Karen Mack) should be regulated by the FDA—they were good medicine. I became an instant fan and make it a point to catch Hole-O-Matic a few times a year. The premise of the Hole experience involves a fish bowl, harmonious wit, witty harmonies, and several dozen songs you don’t know all the words to (and neither do they) filleted, K-tel style, and reassembled into 2-minute comedic plays. Each mash-up is a complete journey. The mad genius behind each musical Frankenstein is Michael Holland, who commands the keys, the guitar strings, and the snark with equal finesse. But Michael is only a partial Gashole. He has now orchestrated his way into the Broadway revival of Godspell at Circle in the Square. Michael is more than the man behind other people’s music, though. He premiered an original musical, Hurricane, at the NYMT festival in 2009 and has released multiple CDs of original music. And there’s so much more to be heard from Michael Holland.
RS: How many years have you been doing Gashole (Hole-O-Matic)? Tell me about the history of that collaboration with Karen Mack?
MH: Unbelievably, Gashole has been terrorizing audiences for ten years now! The short version is that Karen and I were booked to perform at an arts festival in the legendary showbiz mecca of Indiana. They wanted an hour-long set of about a dozen hits from the 70’s – but we were only able to narrow it down to 34, so we just did bits of those, all mushed together. I had recently moved back to the city from Provincetown, where I’d had a group called Comfortable Shoes… a group, it should be mentioned, that I did not name. Anyway, I’d already been experimenting with the phenomenon of mashups with that project – ‘5^th Dementia” is one medley that comes to mind – so I just took the idea a little further for the 70’s gig. The show was a blast, so when we got home we decided to do it at Don’t Tell Mama. Luckily, Sidney Myer, who books the room, decided to let us, and we decided to call it Gashole, for reasons that elude us in retrospect. We planned to run it for three weeks and be done with it, but it proved popular and kept getting extended, so many times that we had to come up with new versions. So we had an 80’s sequel, Ice Gasholes, the seasonally-themed Gashole: Summer Wind (think about it), and our holiday edition, Gasholy Night, among many others. The latest incarnation, Hole-O-Matic, draws on our last decade of mayhem, where the audience designs the show by picking cards from a 130-plus-card Rolodex of mashups, solos and the occasional original tune, and throwing them into a big bowl to be picked at random after we finally show up. It’s all very glamorous.
The two of you have a rapport that is intimate, intuitive, and you seem to entertain one another as much as the audience. Do you think Gas Hole will be an ongoing part of your career regardless of what else happens, and how do you see your collaboration evolving?
Define “career.” We certainly never expected it to last this long, but as long as people keep turning up, who are we to deny them their twisted tastes? From our perspective, the show never gets stale, since it’s different every time, and we’re able to add new material whenever we feel like it, which is fairly often. Besides, the same kinds of things still make us laugh, and we like the same parts of mostly the same songs, so why stop? We’ve been able to develop a loyal if demented following here in New York, but we’ve also had incredible experiences performing in Europe, the Caribbean, and St Paul, Minnesota. Now that’s an itinerary.
You also do solo work. Talk about your solo work and CDs.
I started out on the singer/songwriter track, and was able to release four self-produced CDs on a couple of small labels, from 1993-2003. Most are out of print at the moment, though a couple, Darkness Falls (1999) and Beach Toys Won’t Save You (2003) are available on iTunes and the like. I also arranged and produced Comfortable Shoes’ Happy Joy, not to mention Karen’s disc, Take That. I’ve got enough material in the vaults for another ten albums at least, but lately my fortunes appear to lie elsewhere. I love making the things, and the whole studio process, but I’m not as crazy about the watching-them-trickle-out-of-my-apartment part. Maybe some day I’ll do another, but nothing’s planned for the immediate future….
What was the process of writing Hurricane (your original musical) and getting it produced like?
I got the idea in 2004, while another show I had written music and lyrics for was playing at the New York Fringe Festival. I grew up in Southern New England, and had heard stories about the Great Hurricane of 1938 from relatives all my life. Basically what happened was that a huge hurricane hit the coast of Rhode Island completely unannounced – there was one kid at what was then called the National Weather Bureau who saw it coming, but no one would listen to him. I knew the story, but had never considered musicalizing it till then. As soon as I thought of it, I tried to put it out of my mind as impossible, but the idea kept waking me up in the middle of the night, literally for months, until I caved in and decided to try solving it. Karen had produced the Fringe show, and so with her help, we did a few readings, went through a handful of directors, and eventually wound up with a sold-out NYMF production in 2009.
What is happening with that project?
Well, we made a lot of noise at the festival. A cast of 30 can do that, as well as word that you kill the kids onstage! I mean, come on – 5,6,7,8! So right now I’m in talks with a producing team, trying to map out what’s next. I can’t talk about it much more than that, but stay tuned.
What other original works are you currently working on?
After Godspell opens, I’m supposed to write music and lyrics for a new show, if we can work out the details, but it looks like it’s happening. I’m also writing a new show called Lady, with Eric Bernat, who collaborated with me on the book of Hurricane.
How did your involvement with Godspell come about?
Stephen Schwartz has been a friend for years, and a great supporter of my work. One day I got an email from him, saying something to the effect of “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve submitted your name as a possible orchestrator for the Broadway revival of Godspell.” I mean, the nerve, right? So I had to submit a couple of spec arrangements to the team, and I eventually got the gig.
The show is now in previews. Is your work basically done or are changes being made?
The bulk of it is done, but little tweaks have been happening as all the elements come together. Of course, it’s probable that audience reaction will dictate changes as well, which could mean anything from minor adjustments to full-scale upheaval. But that’s what the preview process is for, and it’s all pretty exciting. The cast is incredible, and they sing their faces off.
With your work in Gashole, you get to play with the best 30 seconds of a song. With Godspell you have to deal with the entire score. What’s that like?
I just take the best 30 seconds of each song, and then repeat 6 times. Actually, these particular songs are as much a part of my musical vocabulary as any of the pop in Gashole. The Godspell cast album was a very important one in my formative years. The main difference between this job and the ‘Hole is that I now have ten voices to play with instead of two, and a whole band of amazing musicians to flesh things out. And I don’t have to be the boss: the musical director is Charlie Alterman, who is brilliant and hilarious – it’s all pretty deluxe. And I have managed to include at least one Gashole-style mashup to the proceedings!...
So, what’s next for you and where can people see you?
Godspell opens at Circle in the Square on November 7, so you can see me there! Gashole will be back up and running shortly thereafter at Don’t Tell Mama (scene of the crime), so check your local listings. Also, I’m hoping in 2012 to put together at least one evening of some of my talented friends singing my songs somewhere; that’s in the planning stages as we speak. And of course, be on the lookout for Hurricane and Lady news… michaelholland.com has been under construction since 2002 – sounds like my motto – but it may actually get born now that I have a real, big-boy job!

Follies

I think Liz stole my best lines in her review of Follies last week—my damn procrastination foils me again! Seriously, though, my colleague and I share much of the same impression of the show. The grapevine told us that the newest incarnation (recently extended until January 22nd) couldn’t touch its predecessors. Yet, both of us, as first-time Follies goers, immediately understood the musical’s long-lasting appeal.

Yes, some of the staging needs re-thinking. The wrinkled gray sheets that drape the inside of the Marquis Theater, with their staples and safety pins, seem more reminiscent of a high school theatrical group set rather than a device that invokes a decrepit theater on the brink of destruction. As Liz mentioned, the odd showgirl fluttering and posing in the shadows of an already dimmed stage like lingering specters of a long-gone age never enhances the narrative and seems like forced symbolism. Despite these things, the poignancy of Sondheim’s story about a reunion of show people still soars. The soon-to-be dismantled theater they once performed in serves as an appropriate backdrop as the characters remember their past and reveal the imperfect present.

Most of the storytelling surrounds the relationships of two showgirls Sally (performed with endearing fragility by Bernadette Peters) and Phyllis (a tough-as-nails yet vulnerable Jan Maxwell) and the beaus who court them, Buddy (Danny Burstein) and Ben (Ron Raines). In flashback sequences—shown in a split-screen like effect with the past interrupting the present action—we see their younger selves first portrayed with vibrancy and hope, and later amid the conflicts, which will haunt their future circumstances. This discord infiltrates the show as characters visit and reminisce, lies are uttered and exposed, and the unhappy pine for their youth. The other showgirls also offer the audience bits of their past and what they became, interweaving their stories through the central plot. In this huge cast, some impress more than others. Jayne Houdy Shell (Hattie) knocks out the perennial favorite “Broadway Baby” with a youngster’s gusto despite the eyeglasses that hang from a chain around her neck. Another classic number, “I’m Still Here,” though, suffers in a lackluster rendition by Elaine Paige, arranged with little movement or passion, which probably says more about the staging than the singer. Frankly, much of the song staging needs recalibration—too much relies on a singer standing stage center, moving stiffly side to side as if on a conveyer belt. Other numbers feel too long, such as the second-act “Folly” section, which could benefit from tightening.

Ultimately, the show still compels. Sondheim never shies from showing the despair of unmet desires or the tight-lipped seething of unfulfilled lovers—and, despite the characters’ flaws, all engage and fascinate. Every song reveals insight; I haven’t seen a musical in a long time containing so many layers (Well, maybe Next to Normal). There are no throwaway or spectacle pieces here, shoehorned in just to add glitter or glory. Every big moment offers purpose. To echo Liz’s sentiment: in a world where theater, at least on Broadway, relies on happily-ever-after revivals or familiar tested storylines transported from film and books, this show offers more authenticity and originality in revival than the first-run material currently out there.
(Purchased ticket, orchestra seat)

Lemon Sky

As I traveled to the Clurman Theatre to see the Keen Company's revival of Lanford Wilson's Lemon Sky, I took a mental tour through other Wilson plays I've seen: Hot L Baltimore, Balm in Gilead, Fifth of July, The Rimers of Eldritch, Talley's Folly, Book of Days. And it struck me just how strong a playwright Wilson is, how compassionate and insightful. I was delighted to be on my way to a Wilson play I had never seen before.

Keith Nobbs, Kevin Kilner
Photo: Richard Termine

Unfortunately, I found Lemon Sky to be weak and flat. The autobiographical tale of the six months that Wilson lived with his father when he was 17, it relies far too much on telling and far too little on showing. Wilson's stand-in, Alan, narrates the story in great swaths of not-that-interesting monologue. The other characters occasionally address the audience as well, mostly in asides. Sometimes two characters address the audience together, as though they are reminiscing to us.

This structure is not the problem per se. Many compelling plays use a combination of addressing the audience and scenes, but Lemon Sky is (1) not compelling and (2) so short of interactions that Alan takes time to assure us, "There'll be a scene. Those who are confused will say thank God, something to watch, maybe everyone will stop flying around." But the show isn't confusing; it's boring. My main thought during intermission was, "I wonder if this ever turns into a play." (It doesn't.)

(possible spoilers below)

Another problem with Lemon Sky is the plot, such as it is. Is anyone surprised that Alan is probably gay? Is anyone surprised that his father probably made a pass at one of the teenage girls to whom he and his wife are foster parents? Does it matter that the other girl dies in a car accident? Is anyone surprised that the father turns out not to be charming or loving?

Most importantly: Does anyone care about the characters? I certainly didn't.

This is not all Wilson's fault. Jonathan Silverstein's direction is lackluster, and the performers are mostly ineffectual. Keith Nobbs as Alan lacks the charm and/or intensity to carry the audience through his travails. Kevin Kilner as the father has dynamic moments but his performance is ultimately one note. Kellie Overbey as the father's second wife barely registers. Amie Tedesco and Alyssa May Gold bring little to the table as the teen foster children. Zachary Mackiewicz as the younger of Alan's step-brothers is more interested in the audience than the play; he actually stared a few times at a man in the first row. Only Logan Riley Bruner as the older of Alan's step-brothers comes across as a three-dimensional person worth caring about.

(Press ticket, 2nd row on the aisle)

A Career in the Theatre: A Profile of Tom Dudzick

Tom Dudzick may be the most successful playwright whose work you've never seen. His first play, Greetings, opened off-Broadway in 1994 during a blizzard. Even though Clive Barnes called the play, "a comic jewel," the blizzard won. The play has become a Christmas staple in regional theatres, and his subsequent plays (including the Over the Tavern triology, Hail Mary, and Don't Talk to the Actors) have had long and frequent runs across the country. Dudzick went global in 2009 when Over the Tavern was adaped for a production in Ireland (called Over the Pub). His backstage comedy Don't Talk to the Actors is currently running in Bucharest, Romania. Many of his plays are set in his hometown of Buffalo, New York and feature characters inspired by relatives or locals from his youth. His latest work, Miracle on South Division Street, has been mounted in readings and a production in upstate New York. It could be your next opportunity to discover Tom Dudzick, who is hoping for an off-Broadway production of that play in the near future.

Seeing the sublimely hysterical production of King of the Moon at the Majestic Theater in West Springfield, Massachusetts, I became an instant fan. So, when the Showshowdown gan started talking about people to watch, I thought of Tom and took the opportunity to ask him a few questions, so you could be introduced to the man in advance of being introduced to his work. 

RS: What has been the difference for you between pursuing a career in the theatre and really making a living in the theatre? 

TD: The pursuit of a career in the theatre was filled with angst, worry, sweat, non-stop writing, meditation with creative visualization and the constant striving to “make it!” Don’t get me wrong, I loved the entire trip. Now that I’ve “made it,” I’m more relaxed and I can channel most of my creative energies into just the writing, because I’ve now made the connections, I have a network of producers who will read what I send them. So much energy in the beginning went into making it over that hump.

The fact that I’m a success with the regional theatres tells me something about myself – these are my people! I think I will have a play in New York (and it will probably be “Miracle on South Division Street”) but the people in that play, and all my plays, are so middle-America. Just regular uncomplicated people trying to make a living and eke out some happiness. And it’s so exciting when I stop and think that, on any given day, one of my plays is going on somewhere in the country. It’s a real kick for me. 

When did the transition start to happen for you, and how did it change your approach to writing? 

The transition from struggling to making it started with “Greetings!” The right person showed up at the right reading (a sit-down reading of “Greetings! with open scripts”) and said, “I’d like to produce your play at my theatre.” That was Greg Houston at the George Street Playhouse in New Jersey. That led to off-Broadway. And that started the whole ball rolling. I don’t know that it changed my approach to writing. But it gave me confidence and encouragement to continue. Back then I was still trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted to say. Which I’m still doing, come to think of it. 

What is your theatrical point of view, and how has it changed over time? 

My theatrical point of view is – tell a compelling story, clearly. It’s really that simple. Make sure the audience knows quickly who they should care about, what are the stakes, who wants what and why, and who doesn’t want him to have it, and what happens if he doesn’t get it. And make sure the hero’s quest is “playworthy,” as they say. It should be worth the trouble of getting all these people up on stage to tell the story, worth an audience paying $45 to come see it. How has it changed over time? It hasn’t. That will always be my rule – get their attention quickly and be clear. 

What are the influences that have shaped your point of view most? 

Watching TV since I was old enough to sit in front of it influenced me. Watching old movies and then eventually seeing plays. Then reading lots and lots of plays. Writing plays coincided with me being in plays – because I wrote plays to appear in. So I became very mindful of what makes people laugh, because I was experiencing it directly. That “being mindful” part is very important. I paid attention and used what worked. Then I just fell into a natural niche. I started emulating the playwrights who impressed and entertained me. Plus I read a million “how to write a play” books, which I still get out and refer to each time I start a new project. 

Your plays are often about family, faith, and mysticism. Is that coincidental? Just common context? Or intentional? If intentional, what's the larger message? 

My plays are about family because it’s what I know best. I can write about it with some authority. And the mysticism you mention – that’s another biggie with me. I love the idea that there is more to life than what we experience with our five senses. And the stage is a fun, exciting place to develop that idea. I can make the “magic” happen in real time, right before our eyes. Everyone loves to spook people out by telling them a ghost story. It’s the same kind of thing with me and the plays. Do I have a larger message? I guess that message would be, “I think there is more to life than what we’ve been led to believe, and I offer you this two-hour glimpse of how I see things. Do with it what you will.” 

What are the theatrical trends that drive you crazy? 

Things within the art form itself don’t really drive me crazy. It’s the show “business” that does it. The idea that we must have a STAR in the play or the audience won’t come, is an example. I don’t see that one going away soon, I’m afraid. Theatrical trends? I used to dislike this trend of 90 minute plays with no intermission. Because it was different. Now I’m writing 90 minute plays with no intermission. Because it still works. I don’t know how the theatres put up with it, though. Aren’t they losing a lot of candy and booze sales during intermission? 

What is your next project? Where could people see your work next? 

My next play is called “Miracle on South Division Street” and I’m hoping for an off-Broadway production soon. It’s a comedy based on a local legend in my old neighborhood in Buffalo. When I was a kid there was this barber who claimed that the Blessed Mother appeared to him. He built a shrine and had a life-size statue of Mary put inside and the whole thing stood next to his barber shop. It was a mini-Lourdes, except the Catholic Church never sanctioned the “miracle.” But the ironic thing is, my old neighborhood is pretty much in ruins now. The church has been torn down. The barber shop is gone – but the shrine is still there! The denizens of the neighborhood keep it in repair. And that’s what my play is about, this family who holds on to this old family “miracle” legend. 

You've had works commissioned. How is the process/approach different for you when you are writing a commissioned piece versus an idea of your own? 

A commission is lovely and extremely encouraging. Someone is paying you to write a play. But with it comes the pressure of having to perform. There’s the time pressure, there’s the idea that it had better be as good as they expect. But I’d never turn one down because of that. “Yes” is always the more interesting answer. 

You are possibly the most disciplined writer I have ever met. Can you talk a little about the balance of discipline, talent, luck, and whatever else you think is key to creating a career in the theatre? 

If I did 100 push-ups every morning, then I would accept the “disciplined” compliment. But as far as writing goes it doesn’t apply because I love to write. I don’t have to force myself into a schedule or any of that. I just wake up in the morning and I want to do it. So I’m very fortunate in that way. Now, you asked about discipline, talent and luck. I don’t believe in luck, so we can cross that one out. To me luck implies “random-ness,” and I don’t believe the Universe does anything in a random fashion. But that’s another discussion. For me, discipline comes into play when I market my work. Because it’s not as much fun as writing. Compiling lists of theatres, submitting, updating, cross-checking, keeping in touch with Artistic Directors, all that good stuff. What motivates me there is common sense, i.e. theatres aren’t going to come to me; I have to reach out to them.

If I Had A Time Machine ..

.. I'd probably be fired from my day job because I'd constantly be seeing shows that were before my time. Whoops, I guess that's not really an answer, though.

Oddly enough, I think one of the first shows I'd see would be CATS, mostly because I've never understood the fascination with it. I just don't get it, and I'd like to.

Actually, I'd love to see the original cast of Phantom of the Opera. It was the first show I ever saw, when I was eight. I don't know who the leads were, but I do know that I adore the original cast album, and I'd love to see it in all its original glory.

I wish I had seen Spring Awakening. My sister and my best friend, two people whose theater opinion I trust very much, each saw it multiple times and loved it. I actually met Jonathan Groff outside the revival of Promises, Promises (about halfway through his "Glee" run). He was so, so nice, and so willing to chat; I wish I had seen the show so I would have had a little more to talk about with him. There are tons of classic shows I wish I could have seen, that were just around before my time or before I was really into theater. I'd love to see A Chorus Line or The Producers. Any incarnation of HAIR, since I missed it again this summer. Every five minutes I think of another show to add to the list!