Here it is. June 10. This has been a VERY long month. A Steady Rain, Coriolanus, and As You Like It in rehearsals all at the same time; and then running and rehearsing. Three weeks. Done. Amazing how many people came out to see A Steady Rain, wonderful. Pride didn’t interfere with loud music, like I thought it would. And we made it with most of our lines intact, and it turned into something I wasn’t ashamed of people seeing. Apparently, I can pull off a South Side Chicago cop. A very corrupt one at that. No one screamed, “Bullshit!!!”, like I thought they would. I think the key there was not apologizing for any of the words coming out of my mouth. I doubt people really bought me as that guy, but they didn’t NOT buy it either. Story-telling.
But it was a weird experience, from my point of view. Jesse and I didn’t really get to interact in the story. Sometimes our characters were completely at odds with what each were going after. In fact, it was hard to distinguish what it was we were going after at times. Intensity shouldn’t make up for motivation or failure or success in achieving goals. It isn’t enough to be angry or happy, or fucked up, or whatever. However, my experience and the audience’s was completely different.
Coriolanus is in the same vein as Denny: super-soldier, PTSD, full of hatred. A real heavy-weight. I am finding that I need to find a way to make it acceptable that my own voice is the one that speaks. Don’t shy away from the fact that I am pretty damn light-weight in real life. I don’t have that gruff, deep voice that would suit this guy better, perhaps; I also don’t have that “killing machine” body. So you do what you can with what you’ve got. As always finding what speaks to me from the words of the guy I’m playing. There always seems to be some parallel experience (thankfully, I guess) that I can tap into to have empathy for the journey. That’s imagination?
In other news, Berri has either a sprain or potentially something worse; Winston is now diabetic; and the girls are trying again to murder anything that comes in the back yard.
And I miss playing guitar. Lazy bastard.