Thursday, May 26, 2005

Bookmark Now

Sometimes I feel as though I'm killing the American theatre.

I should explain. For a couple of decades now, there have been dire pronouncements that, with the advent of expanding home entertainment options—movies on demand, video games, personal computers, the internet and such—and an increased emphasis on an active lifestyle, with the 80-hour work week and the tendency of we humans in our off-hours to cocoon ourselves in our homes, theatregoing was in a not-so-slow and inexorable decline.

I thought about buying a bumpersticker for my car: "I [heart] my dying industry."

See, it's my job to extol the virtues and unique qualities of the live theatre. More than my job, it's my passion. And although I work for a reasonably healthy regional theatre, supported by a loyal and enthusiastic base of patrons, the audience is changing. Gone are the days when we could depend almost entirely on a subscriber audience—folks who sign up for a whole season of comedy, drama and music. They're being replaced by cherry-pickers who choose one or two productions each season. Actually, they're not being replaced. They're the same folks who used to go to the theatre all year. Replacing them with new theatregoers is hard, and getting harder all the time.

And I'm part of the problem. A few weeks ago, near the end of a long day at work, I knew there were two plays being produced in town I really wanted to see. One included a good friend's stage debut, the other was a seldom-produced work that was getting good notices that I wasn't sure I'd have the opportunity to see again for years.

All I wanted to do that night, though, was go home and fix a little supper then curl up with a warm DVD.

I returned to work the next day and wondered anew how to convince people to come to the theatre in an age when fewer and fewer people can be coaxed from their homes.

It was with considerable interest, then, that I received my pal Kevin Smokler's new (and first) book, Bookmark Now: Writing in Unreaderly Times, a collection of essays by young authors that looks at the publishing industry and the writer's life in an age where popular literature is facing the same dire predictions as my own professional world: a steep audience decline.

I must also guiltily admit that, having committed to write a bit about it here today, I haven't read it yet.

Oh my. I'm killing American literature too!

OK, that's not entirely true. I have read a good bit of the book, although it'd be unfair to give it anything approaching a review without having completed it. The book came to me at a particularly busy time and while I was in the midst of reading another, quite different book I have been trying to finish for a couple of weeks. But I have known Kevin for a few years now and I have made my way through about a third of his book and I can therefore tell you these things by way of encouragement to run out and purchase it when it goes on sale next week:

1. I hang with a pretty well-read crowd and I can say confidently that I know no one more passionate about new lit and publishing and the potential of new technologies and social networks to encourage them than Kevin Smokler. He clearly edited this book infused with an excitement to share that passion with as many people as possible, and it thoroughly deserves that audience.

2. Even from the modest amount I've read so far, I can see that this book has the potential to enlighten and enthuse writers about their craft and about a publishing landscape that is not as barren as some would have you think. In short, if you're considering a career as a writer, you need this book.

3. If you are not a writer or considering becoming one, you have a lot to glean from Bookmark Now anyway. The essays are thoughtful considerations of reasons for entering and strategies for surviving a changing literary world, and many of those considerations apply to any industry—theatre, say, or even sales or service—being forced to reshape itself in this modern world.

4. For readers—consumers of literature, in the vernacular—Bookmark Now is a feast of voices, many of which will be new to you, from which you can sample and discover new writers to seek out and gorge upon. (Here endeth the strained metaphor.)

Kevin is on one of his whirlwind Virtual Book Tours this week, so have a look at some of the other sites around where he's guest-writing for certain popular webloggers or submitting to grillings by other writers. There's also a distinct possibility he'll be coming to your town or showing up at a bookstore near year sometime soon to pimp his book.

No quixotic quest, this. Kevin simply believes with all his heart that books neither will nor deserve to die, and we could all use a sip of that Kool-Aid.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

VBT: The Trouble Boy

My friend Jeff gave me a book last year for my birthday. He claimed to have read it and said "it made me think of you", but the volume was delivered in one of those cheap Target gift bags surrounded by wads of tissue paper—the sort of wrapping that just screams, "I picked this randomly from the shelf at Left Bank before rushing here to meet you for dinner. Happy birthday, bitch."

"What, exactly, about this book reminded you of me?" I asked, flipping through the pages. "I'm sure it was the photo of the devastatingly cute author on the rear flap, no?" With the exception of Instant Messages from prospective short-term suitors, Jeff doesn't read much. As Mama Rose said, she reads book jackets and thinks they're books.

"No," he said, unfurling his napkin and stealing one of my eggrolls. "It's very New York, very downtown, very—"

And here the conversation ceased for about five minutes while Jeff flirted with the waiter and twice made a point of mentioning my birthday. When the terrified boy finally fled the table to fetch our soup and wontons, Jeff said, "I get your complimentary dessert. You're dieting."

"The book?" I prodded.

"What? Oh, yes. I don't know. I enjoyed the hell out of it and I thought you might too. All those stories you've told me about clubbing in Manhattan back in your youth. Your far, far, far away youth."

That much was true. I'd only last week recounted to Jeff and The Giant Queen the story of how I, an unassuming lad from Missouri, had become the toast of New York—for a weekend at least—and how I'd impressed the pants off some L.A. fellow (literally!) by talking us into the tony VIP room at a new club in the meatpacking district some 15 years before.

"Anyway, enjoy it," Jeff continued. "It's kind of like a gay Bright Lights, Big City."

My suspicions that Jeff was bluffing continued. It said that much in the blurb on the book jacket.

I politely thanked him for the book and we finished dinner. (Jeff got my flan and the waiter's digits. I ate his stale fortune cookie. "Very soon and in good company," it said. Even adding "in bed" to that sentence fragment didn't make it seem very portentous.

I have to say I'm dubious of any book, movie, play or interpretive dance described to me as a "gay [blank]". You have to feel a bit sorry for Jay McInerney that his seminal (if a tad insufferable) novel of 80s NYC culture has become a bit of reductive shorthand.

On the other hand, I feel a little sorry for Tom Dolby, the aforementioned cute guy author of The Trouble Boy, the book Jeff bagged for my birthday. I mean, you've got to wonder how many "Blinded Me With Science" jokes he has to suffer through at parties.

I did read the book (although Jeff never asked about it again and seemed confused when I brought it up in conversation) and I did enjoy it, although I suspect that if Jeff did read it and was moved to think of me, he had the hapless Jamie in mind more than the lead character Toby. On the other hand, I might have been Loft Boy. I have been known to use the "massage" bit before.

For The Trouble Boy, I offer the highest praise I can summon these days for a novel in the gay lit demiworld: I didn't forget the plot five minutes after I turned the final page. That may seem faint lauding but trust me, that puts Tom Dolby's debut novel ten notches above 99.9 percent of the genre on the shelf.

My friends know I've been writing a novel for the past, oh, 18 years or so. Every once in a while I take it out and decide it's nowhere near ready for prime time. After reading what passes for gay popular literature these days, I've nearly decided to abandon my quest to write well and simply turn in a novel that sucks. That seems to be what's selling.

The Trouble Boy, on the other hand, does not suck. It's an admirably smart first novel, a ripping read and a warmly optimistic story about finding your way in the world and, more importantly, finding your place in the city that never sleeps, never drinks less than premium and never—well, seldom—gives you a second chance. I look forward to Dolby's second effort.

(I'm pleased to be a participant in Tom Dolby's Virtual Book Tour for The Trouble Boy, now available in softcover, but still featuring a fetching photo of the author. Get one today.)

Friday, October 10, 2003

I’m so glad we had this time together

Screening Party Parting: How about a hand for our special guest star, folks? Dennis Hensley -- backed up by some of his witty friends -- was the perfect guest during his stay in The BradLands, arriving with a hostess gift, keeping up the conversation and having the discretion to leave the money on the dresser when I wasn't looking. Applause, applause.

This is my final plea for you to pick up his book Screening Party, either by using one of the Amazon links peppered throughout the last few posts or by visiting your favorite online or local bookseller. (The book seems to have moved up over 10,000 notches on the Amazon sales chart today; I'd like to think we had a little something to do with that.) It's a ripping read and, while you're at it, you might want to add his debut novel Misadventures in the (213) to your must-read stack. Having had more than a few LA misadventures myself -- and most of them had mothers and production assistant jobs -- I can vouch for both its verisimilitude and its breezy, thoroughly hilarious style.

The Virtual Book Tour for Screening Party chugs on, with Dennis and his posse stopping off next at Eric Benson's joint tomorrow. (Wired News had a look at the Virtual Book Tour project this week, and I know a lot of folks stopped by The BradLands for the first time after reading it.)

Thanks again to Dennis for spending the day with me (and you!), thanks to everyone who dropped in to watch us prattle about movie musicals, and thanks to Kevin Smokler for making the whole shebang happen.

Sports and Musical Films

Playoff fever: I'm sitting here keeping an eye on Game 3 of the NL playoffs, biting my nails a bit as we enter the 11th inning with the score tied 4-4, and a thought occurs to me: What the hell am I doing talking about sports?! On my website? Where everyone can see?

I swear, after my revelations today about Moulin Rouge and the questionable casting of Barbra, this might be the capper that gets me thrown out of the International Sodomite Brotherhood Local 314.

Anyway, it has gotten me thinking about sports and movie musicals, two worlds that don't often intersect, to be sure. My favorite of the spare genre is Damn Yankees!, the superb 1958 George Abbott-Stanley Donen adaptation of the Broadway hit. Gwen Verdon, Ray Walston, Jean Stapleton, a brief appearance by Bob Fosse and, of course, the simply yummy Tab Hunter as Joe Hardy. What's not to like?

There was a seldom-mentioned 1967 TV adaptation of the show, done on a spare budget but with a cool cast, including Phil Silvers as Applegate, Linda Lavin (in her first TV gig) as Gloria, and Lee Remmick as Lola. I've never seen it, although it's been praised by a couple of folks whose opinions I trust as a clever, worthwhile take on the script and score. (A commenter at the IMDb notes that the TV version restores the full presentation of "The Game", which was used only sparingly in the movie, so that's a bonus.)

My second favorite melding of sport and musical comedy would have to be the Aggie lockerroom scene in the otherwise lamentable The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Dolly, I love ya, but stick to the script and score you came in with; it may not be the world's most well constructed musical but I could have done without the I-beg-your-Parton interpolations. And Burt Reynolds was so far out of his depth it's a wonder he didn't get the bends. Grab Dolly's "personal flotation devices" and make your way to the surface, Burt! There's bound to be another Bandit sequel in ya. Charles Durning sings and dances circles around him and practically everyone else.

But that lockerroom scene, with tons of nearly nekkid, be-jocked boys shimmying, kicking, tapping and yee-hawing? Scrumptuous. Yes, my willing suspension of disbelief permits me to accept that every single one of those lithe dancer types could cut it on the Texas gridiron. So sue me. When they hit the showers, I hit pause. Dancer butts are the best. "Better than a football game?" You betcha!

Here's one of the best Best Little Whorehouse sites I've found.

Get yer excerpts here!

Excerpts! Get yer red-hot excerpts here! Dennis -- who, when he's here, insists I call him "Miss Ross" and fetch him froofy drinks with umbrellas in them -- has already pointed out a couple of excerpts from his book Screening Party.

Yes, I am going to keep posting that link until y'all give in and buy the damn book. It's only 12 bucks, makes a great gift for the film buff in your life, and counts toward my quota so I can take off this silly sandwich board.

There are a couple of other excerpts from the book on his personal website, including Chapter 4 in its entirety, a debriefing of Pretty Woman that's so gloriously catty I nearly pulled a groin muscle (not that one) from laughing so hard on the train from Midway Airport into Chicago the other day while reading it.

No, really, these were practically weapons-grade guffaws. People were staring. One woman changed seats.

Anyway, go. Read. Love. I'm going to go soak my feet and slip out of this thong that this Hensley fellow insists all of the booksellers wore on his last tour. I don't believe that for a second, of course, but it makes my butt look spectacular and when Dennis is around, that's my number-one consideration.

flashin’ and glitterin’

Dennis Hensley here again. I wanted to share a few thoughts about a couple of musical movies that are in my book Screening Party.

Let us begin with Flashdance. I think Jennifer Beals seems older than 19 and I also love how audiences thought nothing of her getting it on with her boss. These days, Gloria Allred would be all over his ass. I also admit to having a little crush on Richie, the hack comedian. In the spring, I convinced gay.com to run an excerpt of the Flashdance chapter from my book on their site and they did.

The other movie I wish to discuss is Glitter, which is the last chapter of my book. Much can be made fun of about this movie and it certainly does deserve it. But what amazes me the most about it is the way Mariah's character, Billie Frank, was conceived and portrayed. These are words that come to mind: lazy, ungrateful, suspicious, snooty for no reason, half-assed and unprofessional. Normally, in underdog movies, the heroine really hustles and makes the most every opportunity -- see Piper Perabo's adorable Violet in Coyote Ugly. But Mariah acts as though she can take or leave her music career at any given moment. I want to scream at her, "You are a go-go dancing orphan! Fucking pull it together," but she never really does and I can't believe no one at the studio ever piped up in a script meeting, "I think the audience might warm to Billie more if she got off her big, fat lazy ass and hustled a little." I think this is one of those areas where Mariah's real life ideas about success and fame overshadowed any sense of logic or likability... But, of course, that's how I love my Mariah -- lazy, snooty and as naked and glitter-covered as possible.

I'm off to interview Maggie Gyllenhaal for Gotham Magazine. I may check in later if I get a chance...

From Dennis and Friends

Hey gang, Dennis here again. I've got a few more pals who wanted to share some thoughts about movie musicals. My friend John, a frequent participant in Screening Party readings, has this to say about the nutsy Finola Hughes vehicle, The Apple.

JOHN: A perfect case of "music" and "plot" getting in each other's way to create a delicious mix of ridiculously overdone bad production numbers. The Apple is quite possibly the gayest movie about "straight" people ever made in Eastern Europe.

Dr. Beaverman, from Screening Party, also felt the need to share her thoughts on what musicals could be updated.

DR. BEAVERMAN: I'm seeing Bjork in the remake of the Florence Henderson vehicle Song of Norway.

Maybe a black remake of The Music Man ("Da Man") starring Missy Elliot as Harold Hill, with Kelly Rowland in the Shirley Jones role and Gary Coleman as the little brother wot lisps. I'm seeing Ruben from American Idol in the Buddy Hackett role. The showpiece number, "Trouble," would have to be rapped along of lines of how in The City (but not Iowa City), the presence of a white beauty shoppe threatens the sisters' roots (figuratively and otherwise). "Capital T and that rhymes with D and that stands for get your hair DID."

Sunset Boulevard remade with Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore.

I'd like to see The Wiz with the same cast members reprising their roles today (Diana Ross can't even walk in a straight line in a DUI check, let along follow the yellow brick road!).

Maybe Clay Aiken as Fanny Brice in Funny Girl.

And for God's sake, just reissue (to wide distribution) Cybill Shepherd's 1974 musical abortion At Long Last Love - JUST AS IT IS!)

DENNIS: My pal Dave White just wants to give a shout out to one of his favorites...

DAVE: ROCK 'N' ROLL HIGH SCHOOL!

DENNIS: As for me, I could listen to the Xanadu soundtrack until the end of time and recall, as a teenager, wanting to track down the sheet music for it so I could perform "Whenever You're Away from Me" at a Swing Thing Dinner Dance in high school. I never found it though so I had to settle for "Suddenly." My favorite recent Xanadu moment was at last year's Sing-along screening at Outfest when, at the end of "Suspended In Time," my roommate Tony says, "They don't call her One-Take Newton-John' for nothing."

I also have to say that I saw Fame recently on the big screen for the first time since it came out and I couldn't believe how good it was. We forget, what with Debbie Allen's various nutty Fame-based projects -- I'm convinced she even owns the Fame font and you have to pay her a quarter to use it -- we forget what integrity the original film has. I cried five times while watching it because I remember how badly I wanted to be like those kids pursing their careers as creative triple-threats and how innocent and full of hope they are. Now, in my late 30s, I see all these broken dreams around me, some of them my own, and it made me cry. Fine, Dennis, bum everybody out on the blog with your Fame bullshit. Another good thing about Fame is that Debbie Allen has like one line in it.

Meditations & Confessions

A confession from The Management: Among my peers, I am regarded as a Bad Homosexual™ because -- despite my proficiency in the...er, technical aspects of the gig -- I have never seen Moulin Rouge. (I did, some time ago, however express my fervent wish that if Disney ever opened a drag bar on Pleasure Island, they call it The Mulan Rouge.)

Anyway, I feel like I've seen enough of the movie to agree with Erin's assessment as visual circus. Video excerpts of Ewan (yum!) crowing that love song medley to Nicole inside the elephant (!) are played over and over and over at the various gay watering holes I frequent and, well, that'll hold me where that movie is concerned. I do like Mr. McGregor's hair in that movie, though. It's all floppsy and moppsy, and oh, the things he could do with my cottontail.

Sorry. Where was I? Oh, yes, well, I also have to put in my vote for the major misstep in Chicago casting. I understand they felt they needed Richard "Does this gerbil make my butt look fat?" Gere for a box office guarantee but Naughton, who I saw in the role on Broadway, would have been a much better choice talent-wise.

Finally, I'll put in a plug for Erin's show, Avenue Q, which is probably the best new musical on Broadway right now. The cast album, just released, is a stitch, and the irreverent "puppets take Manhattan" show is a must-see.

Just a reminder: the Virtual Book Tour visit for Dennis Hensley's delicious and nutritious Screening Party continues all day here in The BradLands. Tell your friends!

Hello from Dennis Hensley

Hello, BradLands visitors. I'm Dennis Hensley, author of the book Screening Party. It's Day Five of my Virtual Book Tour and geez, I'm exhausted, what with all the missed connections, lousy hotel rooms and pushy bookstore managers.

Actually, it's been a real fun thing...although like my Internet nookie buddies, sometimes I wonder if anyone's really out there or is it just all smoke and mirrors? It's real if we make it real.

Since webmaster Brad is such a fan of movie musicals, I thought we could gab a little about that subject. I've enlisted the help of my pals, many of whom attended the screening parties that inspired the book. First to respond to my e-mail, with a veritable barrel full of musical gab is my dear friend Erin Quill. She appears on the front cover of Screening Party, was the major inspiration behind the character of Lauren, and is currently working as an actor in the Broadway hit, Avenue Q. Go see it.

Here's what she had to say, when I suggested folks write me a few lines about movie musicals...

Movie musicals, now we are talking, because I am a gay man trapped in a torch singer's body -- so I can fall in love with myself repeatedly, and yet, never have me.

Hmmmm. I am going to take a stand here and say that Moulin Rouge is NOT, I repeat, NOT a musical -- it is a visual circus. OK, you may disagree, but a compilation montage of pretty vignettes of a "barely hitting the note but who cares we'll fix it in edit, oh wait we didn't" Nicole Kidman and a campy "sort of a Sting thing with maybe a bit of Michael Stipe" Ewan MacGregor does not a musical make. I don't CARE that Sir Elton John thought Ewan could be a big pop star, I would rather watch American Idol and I am SO HARSH in regards to American Idol, because they generally do not pick gifted singers to compete. That's another story. Simon and I would bond like a blintz and an egg creme at Katz's, I tell you.

Now, the confusing part is that the "homo in my bones" part of me really LIKES Moulin Rouge because it's flamboyant and outrageous and caters to the "Faster, bigger, stronger" American in me that likes mini-malls for the convenience. The Aussie in me (dual citizen, dual personalities) just purely is proud that the campiest man in the world -- since Peter Allen died -- is once again, a title held by an Australian. And I'm sure Terrance Mann has a kitschy pair of cha-cha heels to kick up in celebration of that as well. Oh, did I tell you that Hugh Jackman is opening ACROSS THE STREET in The Boy From Oz? SO exciting, we keep taking campy pictures in front of his poster cause everyone's head lines up RIGHT where his CROTCH would be and let me tell you that...nevermind, musicals, I get it.

So what I like to say is that while Moulin Rouge is NOT a movie musical, it is a visual circus, and truthfully, I'm not looking for depth with Baz. I'm sure if you cut him, he would bleed sequins. Or at least his wife would.

Now, the movie musical that they have done latest and greatest is of COURSE, Chicago. Can we even talk about the cantilevered breasts of Queen Latifah? That was kind of genius. The other kind of genius: Catherine ZJ, who the WELSH part of me (confusing I know, sucks to be me as the song goes) really ADORES. I will say it straight -- I ADORE Catherine Zeta Jones, and she damn well CAN "do it alone"!

The two places this film falls flatter than Renee's chest are 1. when Renee starts trying to DANCE (with apologies to Rob Marshall, none of the cutaways really mask the fact that she can't dance) and 2. when Richard GERE is trying to DANCE. It is obviously a stunt tapper, despite many, many publicity stories to the contrary. They really should have used James Naughton who did it in the original Broadway revival, because he is just SMASHING and he shouldn't be stuck playing Ally McBeal's Dad or the dad of one of the other characters that Ally wants to sleep with or WHATEVER that was! JESUS! See how I tied one weirdly anorexic person in with another? I'm so glad she is doing Bridget Jones Part Deux. I think it was at the urging of doctors who said, well either eat or start singing "Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down".

If we are talking classic movie musicals then my favorites are:

1. Anything with Fred Astaire EXCEPT Finian's Rainbow which was a nightmare of Technicolor madness.

2. On the Town -- Because the people ride in a hole in the ground, and it's joyous!

3. All That Jazz -- Because only Bob Fosse could write his own cinematic epitaph and Ann Reinking is kind of amazingly gorgeous and sympathetic with the longest legs outside of The Kentucky Derby.

4. Kiss Me Kate -- Because Howard Keel is the dreamiest singer of ALL TIME in Movie Musicals and because they SHOT the film for 3-D, but then didn't release it in 3-D, so if you look closely you will see they throw ALL these things to the front, especially in "I Hate Men".

5. Grease -- As a child, I saw it seven times in the theater, made up routines to it in my basement that everyone playing at our house that day HAD to follow and also because I can never go near a RATTLE AND SHAKE without singing "You're the One I Want".

6. Billy Rose's Diamond Horseshoe -- Because it answers that age old question asked by Phil Silvers throughout the picture, "But WHY must the show go on?" And it has REALLY bad acting -- like, Britney Spears bad acting.

Sure there are tons of others, but in Breathtaking Cinemascope and Stereophonic sound (Think PINK!) those are some of my faves. I love all movie musicals, even Paint Your Wagon has some good moments, but the modern movie musicals are finding out what was learned in the 40s and 50s: you need multi-talented people to do musicals, they have to be triple threats -- stunt casting will bite you in the ass -- and there are not enough quick cuts or sound edits to disguise the fact that many of your movie stars today are good at being MOVIE stars, not MOVIE MUSICAL stars.

I wonder who they'll get if Avenue Q ever is made into a movie? Brad Pitt as ROD, our closet gay puppet? Al Pacino as Trekkie Monster? No doubt Renee will be up for Kate Monster, the slightly overweight puppet looking for love.

Ah hell with it, let's watch Xanadu and make t-shirts with iron-ons.

Thursday, October 9, 2003

VBT Begins

Welcome to the Virtual Book Tour: Here in The BradLands, we're just wet with excitement to be hosting a special guest today, Dennis Hensley, author of the book Screening Party, as part of his madcap Virtual Book Tour.

I'll have more to say about the book later in the day but, meanwhile, Dennis and some of his friends featured in this collection of genuinely hilarious, free association movie reviews, are going to be taking the reins and talking about one of my favorite topics: movie musicals and musical movies. Love 'em or hate 'em -- or simply like to kvetch about their fundamental absurdity? Then you're sure to have a little fun today. Screening Party features skewerings of such "classics" as The Sound of Music and Flashdance, among others. Today, though, with apologies to Cole Porter, anything goes.

I've opened up the commenting feature for today's entries, so feel free to join in our own little virtual "screening party" here in The BradLands and have your say. And while you're here, why not pick up your very own copy of Screening Party? I'm pleased as punch to recommend it!

Note: This is the first time in the long and storied history of The BradLands that I've granted posting privileges to anyone except yours truly. And my therapist claimed I had "trust issues". Pish! I know Dennis is going to be a fabulous guest.