Put your back into it.

Last night's rehearsal for "Love's Labour's Lost" was, perhaps by some peoples' standards, a bit hard to sit through. We did a line-through, and a fast-paced one at that. We open a week from today, so line proficiency is crucial at this point (this, of course, goes without saying.)

There were times during the rehearsal, however, where I found myself lacking focus. Thoughts and questions ran through my mind as to the point of doing a line-through instead of a regular rehearsal. I understand the reasons for it -- We were missing a few key cast members due to other commitments, etc. But thoughts creeping up into my head such as, Why don't we just get up and do this? This isn't helping me, sitting down and saying my lines and not getting into character, couldn't be helped. As a result of distracting thoughts, I missed a cue and spoke the wrong line and consequently flubbed up the actress who was to speak after me. Everyone got over it and moved on, but I couldn't help but feel responsible for passing the infection of my lack of focus onto someone else.

After rehearsal, a cast mate that I respect very much approached me. He said to me, "I just wanted to let you know something. You may have said that the Scottish Tragedy kicked your ass in the past, but let me just tell you, you've made Berowne your bitch." It was a very humbling thing for him to say. True, when I played Macbeth in college I did get my ass handed to me. But I used that as my motivation to attack this play and this character full on. I feel very humbled that someone gave me a compliment such as that, a compliment that I've been looking for, but perhaps I don't necessarily deserve at all times.

As long as I've been doing theatre, I've been attempting to hold myself to ridiculously high standards. Every success story of every famous actor that I know stems from them holding themselves to such standards. So far, I can only truly say that I know for a fact I threw everything I had into only 1 production: My first ever at Olathe South, "The Foreigner" by Larry Shue. Ever since then I've told myself I'm going to have the kind of focus and exuberance I had for that show for every show. But things happen. Life happens. Shit happens. Work happens. School happens. But this time, with this show, I've been closer to my goal of "complete emptying of self" into a show than ever before with any other show. And I can tell you why I think this show is special and allows such an outpouring to happen.

In the collaborative art of theater, every single person counts. The efforts and passions of every hand that that touches the show makes it better, or worse. Your hand in the show -- no matter how big or small the movement it makes -- either helps, or harms. This show has been such an amazing example of so many people doing their best in every aspect of the show that it's really quite inspiring. When one person starts doing their best, it's a domino effect, and suddenly I see myself and more people putting in a concerted effort to do their best as well.

What I'm trying to say is -- to all those who work in the collaborative arts -- put your freaking back into it. Do your best, put yourself forward, don't concern yourself with what you perceive as short-comings of the others involved, and you might just start a chain reaction in the other artists to move themselves to new and higher levels of art. The artists in this show have done such inspiring for me. Encourage your fellow collaborators, dawn them with deserving praise, hold yourself to higher standards each show you are in, and I promise you, because I'm seeing it first hand, the collaborative art you are in will flourish with more beauty than you thought was possible. And I can also say, speaking from experience, that if you hold yourself to average standards, if you say to yourself "I'll do my best next time...", if you don't push yourself in whatever part it is you have in the collaborative art -- NO MATTER HOW SMALL THE PART IS -- that art will suffer, whether or not you are aware of it.

I myself am guilty of many things that harm the arts I love so much, but I can do nothing but acknowledge those faults and try to move on and be better in the future, and, more importantly, be better in the present. So, too, I ask this of you, artists. Acknowledge your faults and promise to yourself in the future -- and right now -- that you're going to try to do better. Your best is all that can be asked, so put that in, sit back, and relax knowing you did your part to the fullest.

Corbin

"Spelling Bee" - A comparison of 2 productions

Long ago and far away, my good friends at She&Her Productions informed me they were directing a production of "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee" at the Olathe community theater. As we worked tirelessly on moving our theater from one floor to the next, and drove from place to place in tired stupors, they played the music from the show for me. My response was to cringe and bear it.

But then time passed and I offered my services for their production, seeing as how I lived in the area. I helped build the set, got to know the cast and crew, and overheard the rehearsals as I worked. The overhearing turned into interest, the interest turned into enjoyment, and soon I was sitting down and watching rehearsals more than I was working. I had, indeed, fallen in love with the show.

It's hard not to. In case you don't know anything about it, "Bee" is about a group of kids who are participating in the county's 25th Annual Spelling Bee. Sounds simple enough, except that all the kids have issues. Hilarious, ridiculous, entertaining issues. Oh, and so do the two faculty members running the bee. In fact, the only character who doesn't seem to have issues, the comfort counselor, is a felon on probation. Ok, so everyone has issues.

Whilst working with this production, a good friend of mine from long ago informed me that the Robidoux Landing Playhouse in St. Joseph, MO was also doing a production of the show. My love of OCTA's production made me a bit skeptical at first, but I knew the show itself would hold its weight, and I eagerly saw their production.

What results is as follows: a comparison of two amazing productions of one amazing show. Here are some bullet points, and I'll elaborate more after that.

OCTA

Direction: More like a "play" than a "musical."

Cast: Characters were vibrant but not over-the-top.

Design: Set was simple and effective. Lights were very colorful and well executed.

Misc.: Musical pit was excellent, albeit a bit overpowering at times. Dance choreography was very well done.

Robidoux

Direction: More like a "musical" than a "play." More campy musical-theatre moments.

Cast: Very vibrant, over-the-top, but in a fun campy musical-theatre way.

Design: Simple and effective on all fronts.

Misc: No music pit, but piano was used effectively. Dace choreography was not emphasized as much as one would expect a campy musical-theatre show, but had some strong and memorable moments.

From now on in the review, if you haven't seen the show, you might be in for a few spoilers. Here we go.

No two characters in each production mirrored the other. Every actor played such a different and unique performance than their alter it was startling. OCTA's Barfe' was a nasally challenged,  overly confident yet socially inept child while Robidoux's was an intense, angry genius with a short fuse and a lisp. OCTA's Marcey Parks was a young, confident, snide prodigy while Robidoux's was a stiff, sheltered, spelling-powerhouse who tapped out each letter in a beat on her thigh. OCTA's Vice Principal Panche was a cheery, perky man whose facade could be easily shattered come the nearest reminder of his inadequecies whereas Robidoux's was a serious, often monotone gentleman whose robotic voice worked hilariously when reading off words and definitions. Most notably, though, were the differences between the Lief Coneybears. OCTA's was a clueless, often blank-faced and simple boy who practically needed to be shaken in order to get his attention. Robidoux's, however, was the polar opposite. Constantly shifting around in his seat, constantly making goofy facial expressions to himself, their Coneybear was a mentally challenged and loveable child, but the type of child that everyone has encountered at some point in their lives -- if he hasn't been prescribed ADHD medication yet, give it another month at most.

As previously stated, the direction choices were very different, and each show emphasized different moments than the other. Olive's infatuation with Barfe' was much more emphasized in Robidoux's production, as well as Olive's story-line in general. The "I Love You" song was a tear-jerking, heart-wrenching piece that gave me goosebumps. "Magic Foot" made Barfe's character a star with its execution, and the use of giant feathery fans made the number unforgettable.There was also a sense of tightness to the show, where each and every movement and line felt quick and very well rehearsed. It added to the whole "professional quality" feeling of the show.

In contrast, OCTA had a strong emphasis on improvisation and keeping the show's content fresh and up-to-date. Their much more elaborate choreography and very colorful lighting design made the show very engaging to the eye, al-be-it a little overwhelming at times. It would be unfair to say this was most aptly proven during "Pandemonium" because the number is supposed to be, well, pandemonium. But achievements in the show's choreography were most notably shown in numbers like "The Rules", which had an elaborate hand choreography; "I Speak 6 Languages", which had Marcey Parks doing everything from karate to basketball to salsa dancing to rescuing a cat out of a tree; and the dance number in which Barfe' falls for Olive and the two dance about the stage ridiculously, and hilariously.

Line for line, song for song, these two productions did their scripts justice, and I loved watching every moment of both shows. If you had a chance to see either, count yourself very lucky, because in my opinion, shows of the kind of quality exhibited by these two theaters don't come around that often. Congratulations and bravo to all those involved. You made me fall in love with another musical (as difficult as that is to type.)

Corbin

"Thom Pain (Based on Nothing)" Review

Trevor Belt and Scott Cox are back for a revamp of their hit show "Thom Pain (Based on Nothing)" at the She&Her Production space in the West Bottoms. This time, they mean business, because it's a fundraiser for Relevance Productions.

Scott Cox as Thom Pain

I had the pleasure of seeing this show opening night. The crowd was small but lively. My only impression of the show was from reading the script (which I did not, unfortunately, enjoy very much). But if there's one thing I can say about me, it's that I love being pleasantly surprised.

Thom Pain is a man just like you and me, only worse. He's wracked with painful (and joyful) memories that he simply can't keep inside anymore. The observance of his life stretches into the observance of human nature, and although perhaps not all of us have experienced all the pain there is to endure in life, Thom has gotten pretty close.

As he recounts the loves and losses of his life, the audience is thrown backwards and forwards and side to side from laughing, frowning, and sitting in painful silence. I've personally never experienced so many emotions in such rapid succession while watching a show. Scott Cox and Trevor Belt have created a production that focuses in -- painfully, so -- on one man and one man alone. One man who feels sorry for himself as many times as he counts himself as blessed. One man a lot like you and me.

His reminiscings can become warnings, and it all wraps up into one bleak yet somehow hopeful package. Is life worth living in the end? The constant struggle? The incessant pain? To quote the man, "Big things going wrong, but a million little things going right"? By the end of the show, I couldn't help but smile, the smile was *forced* upon my face, and I liked it. A lot.

This show might not be for everyone, but I encourage everyone to see it. See it with an open mind, don't expect or anticipate anything. I promise, if you do, you'll be pleasantly surprised by the impact it can have on you.

(This review has been posted on kcstage.com)

the wooden plank in my eye

Friends,

I write to you today in comlpaint of recent unfortunes. However, pointing out the splinter in your eye would be ignoring the plank in mine. I shall be frank:

We're not supporting the arts enough.

There are many reasons for this. The first, the foremost, the most essential: Money. The arts needs money to survive, we don't always have money to give them. Budgets are tight, no one knows that more than me. $10 for a really cheap show in Kansas City can seem like an unnecessary luxary. But then when it gets up to $15? $20? $30??? Please. Not to mention the gas, especially if you live in the suburbs. It just doesn't seem necessary or plausible to go see every show or view every art gallery in Kansas City.

But when a theater company or any other arts company goes under because too many people said they would support it, but then didn't ...Well, there's another issue.

Theatre. Is. Dying. It's a dying art. The movie industry and music industry have nothing to worry about in regards to money. I don't care how much they bitch and complain about "pirating", they're still raking in ridiculous amounts of cash. It doesn't matter how many people promise Paramount Pictures they'll come see their next new big-budget film; chances are, they're still going to make a killing off of it. But if 50 people promise their friends in a theater company they'll come see a show, or visit their friend's art gallery, and only about half of those people actually go... Well, needless to say there's major losses taken.

We can use any excuse we want: There isn't enough time, My weekend is booked, I don't have that kind of money right now, Why would I want to go see that, etc etc etc. But never forget what the arts is here to do: Open our eyes, educate us, elighten us, entertain us. Maybe you owe it to yourself to go see more art. Maybe you haven't even realized yet how important a role it can play in your life.

Or maybe you'll read this article and not have changed a bit.

The risk all artists run when they create something to be consumed.

Thanks anyway,
Corbin