Blog Stage - Acting in Film, TV, Theatre - Backstage

Free Screening: 'A Dry White Season' in L.A.

Back Stage and Fine Arts Theatre invite you to a screening of A Dry White Season.

The event will be held Monday, Aug. 6 at 7:30 p.m. at the Fine Arts Theatre, 8556 Wilshire Blvd., Beverly Hills.

The film be followed by a Q&A with director Euzhan Palcy, moderated by Stany Coppet, a former talk show host on French Guianese TV (Tele Guyane).

Set in South Africa during Apartheid, the 1989 film tells the story of Ben du Toit (Donald Sutherland), a white schoolteacher forced to stand up against the injustices committed against blacks when his gardener's son is killed. Du Toit enlists human rights attorney Ian McKenzie (Marlon Brando) to help with the case and quickly finds himself pulled deeper into the country's violent and exploitative racial divide.

Brando's portrayal of McKenzie garnered him BAFTA, Oscar, and Golden Globe nominations for Best Supporting Actor.

Admission is free. RSVP to [email protected]. Note the number of guests in your party and your Back Stage affiliation. $2 validated parking available at 8484 Wilshire (S.E. corner of Wilshire and La Cienega).

Friday Musings

I was walking up Eighth Avenue at about 10:30 last night and passed the Brooks Atkinson where Grease just started previews. There was a mob scene on both sides of the street outside the stage door. I haven't seen crowds like that since Julia Roberts made her Broadway debut. It's the power of reality TV. If the reality-TV stars in the cast spark this kind of response, look for more talent-competitions.

All of a sudden Gypsy is the Great American Musical. At least that's what Ben Brantley seemed to be saying in his review before he left for London. What happened to Oklahoma and Guys and Dolls?

--David Sheward

Letter to the Editor

This letter is in reference to "Theatre of War," by Simi Horwitz, Back Stage, July 5, 2007:

I just wanted to say that I thought the piece was very well done and hopefully will enlighten the industry to understand a little more about this very turbulent time in American history. That there are official card-carrying performers out there who have taken the ultimate risk in defense of what they believe is right should not be dismissed yet respected.

I hope this will also raise a dialogue amongst my peers and allow us to examine with a little more clarity what our experiences from the front were like, what we're doing there, and how as actors -- yes, actors -- we have made an enormous impact in the world and with certain people that most thespians would never dare to encounter.

Furthermore and in closing, I believe it shows as well the vast integrity and ability of Back Stage to broaden its perspectives on reporting within the industry. This is certainly nothing new with the paper, but it reaffirms to me that the trade really is the No. 1 standard-bearer in the business. It was my pleasure getting to know you, and I look forward to our paths crossing again.

-- Jerry Della Salla,
Actor and Iraq veteran
New York

Evening of Reprises

Reprise! Broadway’s Best staged a star-studded benefit revue on the evening of July 21 at the Brentwood Theatre in L.A., to raise funds for the venerable organization. Give My Regards to Broadway: Television Legends in an Evening of Song featured beloved actor-singers who have excelled in all mediums. The evening focused on musical theatre songs, of course, hosted by the witty and sardonic Jason Alexander, who recently took over as Reprise’s new artistic director. Alexander starred in the first Reprise show, Promises Promises a decade ago and directed last season’s Sunday in the Park with George.

The joyously entertaining evening was filled with scintillating songs, accompanied by Gerald Sternbach on piano, as well as  nostalgic anecdotes from the stars. Vivacious Vicki Lewis topped off her splendid renditions of  “The Glory of Love” and “You Can Count on Me” with a showstopping “Don’t Rain on My Parade.” Pam Dawber delivered a stellar “Oh Wandering One” from The Pirates of Penzance, and eternally youthful Florence Henderson belted out the South Pacific ditty “A Wonderful Guy” with brio. Dynamic Michelle Lee, who debuted on Broadway at age 17 opposite Robert Morse in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, wowed the audience with two songs from her 1973 Broadway hit Seesaw. Alexander revealed that he is determined to get this buried gem into an upcoming Reprise season. The Legendary Shirley Jones sounded terrific in a medley from The Music Man, a vehicle in which she co-starred with Robert Preston on film.

The men also made the most of their moments in the spotlight. The booming-voiced Ken Howard belted out a powerful Man of La Mancha medley. Peter Marshall enchanted the crowd with two numbers from La Cage Aux Folles—the lilting romantic ballad “Song on the Sand” and the irresistible showstopper “The Best of Times.” Hal Linden shined in a number from his Tony-award winning turn in The Rothschilds and in the rousing “We’ve Got Trouble” from The Music Man. The always likeable John Schneider offered a change of pace singing a couple of his own country-flavored tunes, but honored the Broadway theme with a spirited number from The Will Rogers Follies, incorporating dazzling rope tricks. The smashing evening whetted the appetite for the new Reprise season, which kicks off August 15 with Rodgers and Hart's On Your Toes. www.reprise.org.

--Les Spindle

Sizzler Fizzles

I often hear critics talking about how they walked out of such and such a show midway because it was  so unbearable. In some of these cases, they wrote the review anyway, not even mentioning that they only saw half of it, which seems to me unprofessional and utterly unconscionable.  I have left midway only a few times over the years, but this was when I was not on a review assignment. But I don't make these midshow exits a habit, on general principle.

I won't mention the play or the theatre, but this week, I attended  a show that was truly unbearable, excruciatingly insulting to the audience, and a waste of everyone's time.  When 6 or 7 out of the 10-member audience fled as soon as the first act was over, I bit the bullet and followed suit. There seemed no point in staying, as I had decided then and there to cancel my plans to proceed with a review, and life is indeed too short to watch the second act of something this pointless and horrendous, sitting there with two or three people who seemed to be friends or associates of the production. 

It wasn't just that the show was soft porn--that might have been OK, for those who want to see that sort of thing, if it had been advertised as such, and not presented as if this was a legitimate 99-Seat production. The problem was that every aspect of the production seemed so clueless that neither the creators nor the publicist seemed to know the vapid script was nothing but fodder for porn (or maybe they do know, and were pulling a bait-and-switch gambit).  They actually seemed to think they had a play on their hands and pitched it to the local media as a provocative dark comedy.  On top of all this, it was stultifyingly dull porn. The actors' grunting, writhing, and pawing each other for long periods of time (far outdistancing the time spent on dialogue) was utterly unconvincing. Even in the limited realm of porn performing, this troupe wasn't cutting it.

I hope someone mercifully closes this soon, and the producers put their next efforts into something worthwhile.  Judging from the intermission exodus, I doubt there is supportive word of mouth circulating about this woebegone endeavor, which would be best put to rest.

--Les Spindle

"Hairspray" Breaks Through

Since 2002, when the Oscar-winning Chicago engendered renewed hopes that the long-dormant movie musical genre was ready for a renaissance, the monumental failures of  Phantom of the Opera, Rent, and The Producers seemed to take all the air of this bubble.

Enter the just-opened Hairspray, which is being greeted with mostly ecstatic reviews from the major critics across the nation--Critic's Choice in NY Times, love-letter rave in LA Times, etc. The responses not only suggest boxoffice gold, but also that the film could have strong Oscar possibilities. I was not among the fans of  Dreamgirls, so I was glad that its hype failed to result in major Oscar attention. But the exhiliarting Hairspray--a film that's so easy to love--might well work its way its the  Academy's good graces, and I hope it does.

Though John Travolta's drag turn in the Divine-Fierstein-Villanch  as large-framed housewife Edna has met with mixed reactions, the latest reviews coming out, such as the LA Times, seem to think he is..well..divine. I was lukewarm on the performance at first, but on my second viewing, I found much to admire. I believe New Line would be wise to promote Oscar consideration in the following categories: Picture, Director (Adam Shankman), Actress Nikki Blonsky, Support: Travolta and Latifah, plus umpteen design categories, editing, and maybe even adapted screenplay. I don't care much for the obligatory Oscar-consideration new tune written for the closing credits, but since this cateogory is often so thin, a nom here is also likely.

In my recent interview with the film's creators (Shankman and the songwriters Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman) they expressed their hopes that the film will be the biggest film of its type since Grease (which remains one of the highest-grossing film musicals of all time). I think there is a strong chance that their film will far surpass that previous Travolta triumph.

--Les Spindle

Kings o' Kings

It’s hard to imagine Mel Brooks, the king of shtick-swilling comedy, compared to an anti-Semite like 19th-century composer Richard Wagner, but here goes: They can both be intensely dislikable. Maybe Brooks a bit less so. Biographer James Robert Parish valiantly defends, or at least explains, the man born Melvin Kaminsky in 1926 in Brooklyn, N.Y., where he was raised in poverty. Perhaps as a result of his humble roots, Brooks has spent his life and career counterbalancing personal insecurities with a zany antenna for what cracks us up. Well, most of us, anyway.

As Parish reveals Brooks’ long, rather remarkable story, you realize there’s something to be said for being so dogged about your creative dreams that those qualities we unquestionably expect from adults—modesty, a sense of when to shut up, the wisdom to learn from failure—simply exit, stage right. It’s the sheer genius of such people that ultimately saves them from themselves, and Brooks is no exception.

The best example is how Brooks insinuated himself into the gifted circle of comic craftsmen who wrote Sid Caesar’s legendary Your Show of Shows during the salad days of TV. It was the early 1950s, the peak of Caesar’s fame, and Brooks’ quirky brand of persistence easily could have landed him outside the office where many of TV’s classic sketches were being devised. Indeed, that’s what happened at first. But Brooks was never one to knock on a door when he could barge through it; he made such a nuisance of himself that Caesar had to acquiesce, naming Brooks to his creative team. Brooks may not have always behaved professionally, but his genius cannot be ignored.

And so it goes as Parish examines Brooks’ career project by project, from success on TV (Get Smart), film (The Producers, Blazing Saddles, Young Frankenstein, Silent Movie, History of the World: Part I), and Broadway (The Producers) to conspicuous failures in all the same mediums. Parish also loves his subject: You can tell when he details how Brooks wooed his wife, the late Anne Bancroft, into opening her heart to him. From his days as a Borscht Belt tummler to his readying a musical version of Young Frankenstein for Broadway, you’ve got to chuckle at Brooks’ endurance. Well, most of us, anyway.

It's Good to be the King: The Seriously Funny Life of Mel Brooks, By James Robert Parish, Wiley, 2007, hardcover, 325 pages, $25.95.

-- Leonard Jacobs

Go Metro to Act

I think I have a twisted zeal for challenge. I like falling asleep to noise around me. I adore my family but moved far away from them. I’m an anti-war vegetarian, yet my two longest relationships to date have been with a U.S. Marine and a bow hunter.

I also act in L.A. and do not own a car.

Yes, you read correctly. I act. I don’t have a car. In Los Angeles. And I survive—happily!

Car-free life is old hat to folks in San Francisco, New York, or almost any other major city in this country. Yet few people realize that L.A. has its own thriving, steadily growing public-transportation system, and industry busybodies like us can get by on it.

I had lived in many places, from Indiana to Hong Kong, but had never owned a car. So when I moved to L.A., I spent several years finishing my degree, auditioning, performing, volunteering, seeing plays, and exploring the city—all by foot, bus, train, and rideshare.

At 23, I indulged in buying my first vehicle. While I loved having ostensible freedom and a private place to warm up my voice, I did not love contributing carbon emissions to the environment; spending large sums of money on gas, insurance, parking, oil changes, and repairs; or engaging daily with the headache-inducing culture of sitting in traffic. Within a year, I was ready to return to vehicle-free life.

So I did. I moved to downtown L.A., where I still reside. From home, I can walk to post offices, cafes, drugstores, libraries, farmers’ markets, Union Station, and my full-time work at Cornerstone Theater Company.

Hollywood, North Hollywood, and Pasadena are 15–20 minutes away by Metro Red Line. Long Beach is 45 minutes by Blue Line. Places like Santa Monica, Burbank, and Sherman Oaks are trickier, as they require buses, but Metro.net offers a comprehensive Trip Planner (think MapQuest for public transit). Learning the reliable routes is much like gauging which freeways to avoid at certain times of day.

Metro time is also excellent for reading, running lines, or—most often for me—watching people and writing. For actors, such built-in observation time is priceless. Without fail, my days are enriched by hilarious children, homeless prophets, and curious tourists (who usually seem to be getting to know L.A. better than many of its locals).

Rather than limiting me, carless life has led to fascinating projects. I got cast in a short video about eco-friendly driving. No audition was required—my headshot, résumé, and enthusiasm for improving urban transportation sufficed. When I modeled for a fashion photography show by Lauren Pierini, we shot much of it at Union Station, largely due to my close personal connection to that place (also because it’s stunning). Off camera, I currently am doing production-assistant work for a documentary called—what else?—CarLess in L.A. It’s been a blast because co-creators Katie Rogers and Drew Falkman are optimistic environmentalists as well as high-quality filmmakers.

I’m not resolutely anti-driving. Recently I performed in Sight Unseen Theatre Group’s Assassins, which involved many late-night Westside rehearsals. Enter Flexcar (www.flexcar.com), an organized, affordable car-sharing system for people whose vehicular needs are sporadic. It’s rather fantastic.

Living vehicle-free requires a willingness to be mobile and resourceful. It seduces a person to go against the current a bit, smell the roses more often, breathe, listen to the subtext of the city, and meet people one might never encounter otherwise. As artists (particularly actors), aren’t those some of the abilities we constantly seek to strengthen?

Some days, the bus is late. Some nights, the walk home from Union Station feels endless. But on the road, accidents often cause delays and sleep deprivation may loom. For me, the former obstacles are richer. I see the city through a different lens on foot than I did from my personal vehicle, and my worldview, quality of life, and artistry continually evolve—I think, for the better.

Rachel Jendrzejewski is an interdisciplinary artist and wanderer, as well as the communications manager at Cornerstone Theater Company. She currently is on staff at the Cornerstone Institute Summer Residency in Holtville, Calif.

Dear Readers...

Los Angeles often gets a bad rap from outsiders, who presume the city to be filled to the brim with vacuous folks—dumb blondes, muscle heads, phonies, flakes—and that the closest thing L.A. has to culture is frozen yogurt. Admittedly, there are a lot of hair colorists, tanning salons, and gyms in L.A., but I bet you’ll find close to as many in New York.

While most actors migrate to Hollywood to get work in film and television, the truth is that many wind up honing their craft and finding community in L.A. theatre, which, surprisingly, boasts more venues than New York City. And though some outsiders might assume L.A. theatre is made up of a series of bad showcases in which young actors vie to be discovered, the truth is that there’s strong theatre to be seen and equally strong theatre artists who are proud to call Los Angeles home. And I can say from experience that L.A. and New York equally share in having great, good, mediocre, and lousy theatre productions.

I met a recent Bay Area transplant who was most surprised by how supportive her fellow L.A. actors and those in the industry have been to her in her encounters so far. Artists must build their own communities wherever they live. Create your own support systems and be open to new connections, as you never know where they might lead. In the case of this particular actor, she landed a new agent thanks to another actor she met.

Speaking of wonderfully supportive people, actor Fred Willard (Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show, Everybody Loves Raymond) is one of Back Stage’s favorites. This issue marks the third time he’s lent his comedic chops to our Welcome to L.A. cover. I always look forward to catching up with Fred to hear what the latest is on his career. He’s heard no word on what writer-director-actor Christopher Guest might be planning next for the big screen, but Fred’s currently working on the new Fox sitcom Back to You, with Kelsey Grammer.

I’d also like to thank Sarah Gahman for stepping in as Fred’s “assistant” in our photos.
As for newcomers to L.A. or those considering the move, I hope you consider Back Stage as part of your support system now and as you move forward in your career. Please let us know if there’s anything we can help you with or address in our articles.

-- Jamie Painter Young, National Editor-in-Chief

Decoding 'Xanadu'; Roses I Have Known

Expectations are lower during the summer months. Hence, it was pretty smart of Xanadu to wait until after the Tonys to open. This bubble of a musical is a campy riot and stands a much better chance of building an audience when it has no competition from "serious" shows. It's a total goof, short, sweet, and hiliarious--the equivalent of ice cream, no, not even ice cream. It's so light it's sorbet. Full of pop cultural references to songs of the 80s and the crappy film it's based on, Douglas Carter Beane's book strikes the right note of silly fun.

One joke I feel I must explain: When Sonny (Cheyenne Jackson) ascends to Mt. Olympus, and accuses a goddess of really being Maggie Smith, she cries "Assassin! Assassin!" In case ya didn't know, that's a line from The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie which contains Dame Maggie's first Oscar-winning performance.

Woody Allen mentions Back Stage in his story "Tandoori Ransom," part of his new collection Mere Anarchy. A star's stand-in is mistakenly kidnapped from a movie set and held for ransom. He's such a nobody that his abduction rates only a filler item in the back pages of Back Stage. Woody hasn't read us in a while. We don't use fillers anymore. Still a funny story.

Patti LuPone has bowled over the majority of critics with her Sherman tank of a Mama Rose. I've seen Lansbury, Daly, Peters, Midler on TV, and Russell in the movies (on TV when I was a kid). While I admire all of them, Daly is still my favorite. LuPone is definitely the better musical performer and she brings much intensity to her Rose, particularly in the dressing room scene where she begs Louise to strip so they can at least walk out of the flea-bitten burlesque theatre with a smidgen of dignity. But while LuPone comes across as a star playing a monstrous stage mother (and I'm sure that's how Merman came across), Daly was a heavy, needy, limited woman craving the spotlight. I still tear up when I remember her response to Louise's asking her why she sacrifised for her kids to be onstage: "I...just wanted to be noticed, I guess." She paused and her voice broke a little. LuPone bursts into tears like a Niagra, Daly was small and contained, letting the audience do the crying. (Xanadu photo credit: Paul Kolnik)

--David Sheward