Friday, February 04, 2005
Week 112 - Bucky WIlson, Back At The Plaza
Dave 6 Press has a new name! Henceforth we shall be known as 'The Bucky Wilson Weekly.' However, despite the promising name, we do not encourage you to expect that The Bucky Wilson Weekly will actually come out every week.
Week 112 - Bucky Wilson, Back at The Plaza
Feb 2, 2005
So The Plaza party came and went. We had a blast (if you were there you know it was mad cool) though I must say, The Plaza isn’t what it once was. It’s still a landmark, but let me explain. When first we checked in, I started running the water in the marble bathroom (we had a view of snowy Central Park by the way, it was tres cool) I pulled the stopper to turn on the shower, and it came off in my hand. Not only that, but a spout of water shot up out of the pin hole, and hit me in the face. Right out of the movies.
Later, Tuesday night it was, I sent my shirts to be dry cleaned. I called Weds. morning for them, no shirts. No problem, I had an extra in case of emergency. I wore it. I worked. I called Thursday morning, no shirts. No problem, I JUST BORROWED ONE FROM MY BOSS. No, that wasn't awkward. I wore it. I worked. I called Friday, and after searching high and low, they brought it out to me. TWELVE BUCKS. TO DRY CLEAN A SHIRT. And it took them three days.
Next example: Thursday night I had a few friends up to the room. Friday morning, there we were, I blush to say, surrounded by a large collection of beer and wine bottles in disarray. Friday afternoon, there are still beer bottles and wine bottles in disarray. Saturday morning, there are still wine and beer bottles in disarray. Saturday afternoon, there are still wine and beer bottles in disarray. Sunday morning, we still are living with the mess, so I call and inform them that I’ll be stepping out for a few hours and might they be willing to service the room? The concierge finds it ‘shocking’ that the room hasn’t been cleaned in 48 hours. I must confess that I agreed with him.
So, Boo Hoo. I stayed at The Plaza, and my shirts were late. I was surrounded by beer bottles. Rough life. But let us consider the finer things in life:
Acting. Drama. CityLab.
This year, I have had two very 'instructional' readings of my work by CityLab (CityLab is my three hour Lab on Wednesdays.) 'Instructional' is what I call it when the work sucks. If you take the time to understand why the work is falling over, you transform the loathsome experience from a suckfest to a learning experience. For the first time, watching my play, I wanted to yell ‘cut’ and stop the show before the Lab Director did. I was appalled by my own suckfest. The things I’d learned in the lab I simply had not applied to the work – I was using techniques and skills I’d used in my fiction and was trying to make them play onstage. It simply was not happening. Here’s why: the only thing that’s truly interesting to watch onstage is action. That’s why it’s called acting.
I recall the words of a screenwriting teacher I had years ago: “The two worst characters you can ever write into a script are Harry the Historian and Marvin the Explainer. These guys fill us in on what’s happening because the screenwriter lacks the skill or wherewithal to write action.'
Spewing plot onstage is what novices do, what I did yesterday. Why not write a thrilling scene where two people want things from each other, and have to go through each other to get what they want, instead of a line like, “You know, the only reason I haven't killed you yet is because your mom is my sister, and one time, in 1986, we went backpacking in Antarctica. Plus, I like cheese.” Who cares, right? Nobody cares about things that are offstage.
We did an improv exercise yesterday – I was Kobe Bryant’s coach and I played opposite Kobe Bryant. In the scene I called Kobe into my office to get him to start passing the ball to his teammates. I had to convince him. It was the only way we were going to win a championship.
Well, Kobe came into the office to tell me he wanted his own dressing room for all our upcoming games.
The conversation did not go well. What he wanted was clear, and what I wanted was clear, and we both had to go through the other guy to get what we wanted. We both pursued it relentlessly, so it was a good scene. There was no time to think about plot – we just went after what we wanted and the audience enjoyed what we did. I finished the scene feeling really disappointed that I wasn’t able to get my point across to Kobe – how well I acted during the scene was irrelevant – all that mattered was making Kobe understand that the team can’t win if he hogs the ball.
So, if you will, contrast that moment of action with the godawful script I brought in, in which one character tells another: “Now wait a minute, Tudor. You know the D-4 Twilight Project was deactivated in 1977.”
While that line *might* seem remotely interesting as you read it, onstage it stinks. Nothing is less interesting than listening to a scientist explain the history of the D-4 Project, whatever the fuck that is, and nothing is more interesting than watching two people on stage, NOT getting along. It’s all about action, action, action. This word is not just a command that a director yells on a film set, it is a constant reminder that action is the only thing that matters. ¶ 10:28 PM
Week 112 - Bucky Wilson, Back at The Plaza
Feb 2, 2005
So The Plaza party came and went. We had a blast (if you were there you know it was mad cool) though I must say, The Plaza isn’t what it once was. It’s still a landmark, but let me explain. When first we checked in, I started running the water in the marble bathroom (we had a view of snowy Central Park by the way, it was tres cool) I pulled the stopper to turn on the shower, and it came off in my hand. Not only that, but a spout of water shot up out of the pin hole, and hit me in the face. Right out of the movies.
Later, Tuesday night it was, I sent my shirts to be dry cleaned. I called Weds. morning for them, no shirts. No problem, I had an extra in case of emergency. I wore it. I worked. I called Thursday morning, no shirts. No problem, I JUST BORROWED ONE FROM MY BOSS. No, that wasn't awkward. I wore it. I worked. I called Friday, and after searching high and low, they brought it out to me. TWELVE BUCKS. TO DRY CLEAN A SHIRT. And it took them three days.
Next example: Thursday night I had a few friends up to the room. Friday morning, there we were, I blush to say, surrounded by a large collection of beer and wine bottles in disarray. Friday afternoon, there are still beer bottles and wine bottles in disarray. Saturday morning, there are still wine and beer bottles in disarray. Saturday afternoon, there are still wine and beer bottles in disarray. Sunday morning, we still are living with the mess, so I call and inform them that I’ll be stepping out for a few hours and might they be willing to service the room? The concierge finds it ‘shocking’ that the room hasn’t been cleaned in 48 hours. I must confess that I agreed with him.
So, Boo Hoo. I stayed at The Plaza, and my shirts were late. I was surrounded by beer bottles. Rough life. But let us consider the finer things in life:
Acting. Drama. CityLab.
This year, I have had two very 'instructional' readings of my work by CityLab (CityLab is my three hour Lab on Wednesdays.) 'Instructional' is what I call it when the work sucks. If you take the time to understand why the work is falling over, you transform the loathsome experience from a suckfest to a learning experience. For the first time, watching my play, I wanted to yell ‘cut’ and stop the show before the Lab Director did. I was appalled by my own suckfest. The things I’d learned in the lab I simply had not applied to the work – I was using techniques and skills I’d used in my fiction and was trying to make them play onstage. It simply was not happening. Here’s why: the only thing that’s truly interesting to watch onstage is action. That’s why it’s called acting.
I recall the words of a screenwriting teacher I had years ago: “The two worst characters you can ever write into a script are Harry the Historian and Marvin the Explainer. These guys fill us in on what’s happening because the screenwriter lacks the skill or wherewithal to write action.'
Spewing plot onstage is what novices do, what I did yesterday. Why not write a thrilling scene where two people want things from each other, and have to go through each other to get what they want, instead of a line like, “You know, the only reason I haven't killed you yet is because your mom is my sister, and one time, in 1986, we went backpacking in Antarctica. Plus, I like cheese.” Who cares, right? Nobody cares about things that are offstage.
We did an improv exercise yesterday – I was Kobe Bryant’s coach and I played opposite Kobe Bryant. In the scene I called Kobe into my office to get him to start passing the ball to his teammates. I had to convince him. It was the only way we were going to win a championship.
Well, Kobe came into the office to tell me he wanted his own dressing room for all our upcoming games.
The conversation did not go well. What he wanted was clear, and what I wanted was clear, and we both had to go through the other guy to get what we wanted. We both pursued it relentlessly, so it was a good scene. There was no time to think about plot – we just went after what we wanted and the audience enjoyed what we did. I finished the scene feeling really disappointed that I wasn’t able to get my point across to Kobe – how well I acted during the scene was irrelevant – all that mattered was making Kobe understand that the team can’t win if he hogs the ball.
So, if you will, contrast that moment of action with the godawful script I brought in, in which one character tells another: “Now wait a minute, Tudor. You know the D-4 Twilight Project was deactivated in 1977.”
While that line *might* seem remotely interesting as you read it, onstage it stinks. Nothing is less interesting than listening to a scientist explain the history of the D-4 Project, whatever the fuck that is, and nothing is more interesting than watching two people on stage, NOT getting along. It’s all about action, action, action. This word is not just a command that a director yells on a film set, it is a constant reminder that action is the only thing that matters. ¶ 10:28 PM
