One of the more upsetting things about New York...

Excerpt from an interview with Raul Esparza, one of my other latest favorite Broadway actors. Saw him last February in The Homecoming, which was extremely weird (and speaking of which, Harold Pinter died the other day...), but he was brilliant in Speed-the-Plow, and a real scene stealer, which says a lot--he was up against two popular TV stars, Jeremy Piven and Elisabeth Moss.

You've been so prolific in the past six years in New York. Have you come across any stumbling blocks in getting the parts you want to play?
I've been really, really blessed. And I've been able to do projects that I've been excited about. The biggest thing that I worry about is the lack of new writing and the ability to create new work. I haven't had a lot of opportunities to do that. We seem to be in a time where there are so many rules, or where shows are trying to make music that is really great—I mean who doesn't love Abba?—serve a story. But then you're not really dealing with acting; it's sort of a wink and a nod, and everybody's having a great time going, "Isn't this funny that we're trying to make these songs dramatic?" That trend in New York does worry me: "Let's go with properties that we already know." It's not giving writers a chance to have a voice and make mistakes.

Yeah, for musical theater fans, it's a little scary.
I think it is. I'm sure the pendulum will swing back. It's just so expensive, I can understand why producers are afraid to take chances. If you think about it coldly, I think that Sondheim would have a tough time starting his career now. You know? Who's going to take a chance on a musical about lunatics like Anyone Can Whistle? People would be like, "Are you crazy? No. We're going to adapt Mr. and Mrs. Smith.'"

Love him. This is from back around 2006, 2007 when he was in Company, which was supposed to be great, though I've heard firsthand that it was pretty dull. The following question after this was if he'd seen Spring Awakening yet. Haha. He did and said he liked it. Really though, it's so rare now that something new and original dramatic pieces come out, and it's scary. It's scary that no one's taking chances, though understandable, and it's a huge threat to Broadway, and even off-Broadway. Especially for people my age looking for futures in it. Thanks to Andy Warhol and Marc Jacobs, I can accept that popularity is not necessarily a bad thing, and it isn't always terrible that art and commerce are so permanently linked, but it is still stifling. There are voices to be heard that are getting lost in the shuffle, I think, because no one thinks anyone wants to hear them.

Though, the LAByrinth Theater Company in New York is always supporting and producing new plays. It's the pet project of John Ortiz and Phillip Seymour Hoffman, who was featured in a great article by the New York Times recently.

While movies typically require an elaborate and expensive mechanism, plays can be relatively simple to produce. Every year, LAB has a two-week “summer intensive” workshop during which 35 to 40 plays are rehearsed and read. Company members — there are about 100 — offer their critiques and the artistic directors then select the 10 or 15 plays they would like to see go to the next step. “Most of us liked ‘Philip Roth in Khartoum,’ ” Hoffman said. “Some of the women had problems with it, but I asked my mother to come to a reading, and she thought the female characters rang true.” Hoffman lit another cigarette. “People only want to invest in a play that they think will do well. They are not interested in risky theater. But even more traditional theater is pure risk, which is what I love about it. You roll the dice for the thrill of rolling the dice.”

LAB is the company that produced a number of Stephen Adly Guirgis's plays, including one of my favorite plays ever, The Last Days of Judas Iscariot. I wish I'd gotten the opportunity to see it performed. It's this amazing dissection of the actions of Judas against Jesus, and it shows his trial in limbo. The NYT article mentions him--Stephen Adly Guirgis’s play, “Jesus Hopped the ‘A’ Train,” directed by Hoffman in 2000, cemented LAB’s reputation as a theater company committed to significant new voices. “I used to think I was Catholic until I met Stephen,” Hoffman joked. “But I am not Catholic the way he is. He is tortured and haunted by that religion, and you see it in his work.” I've read Jesus Hopped the A Train and two of Guirgis's other plays, Our Lady of 121st Street and In Arabia, We'd All Be Kings. They were all good, but not as good as Judas Iscariot. I'd wanted to see his latest, The Little Flower of East Orange, when it was playing last spring, but I didn't get a chance to.

These men are fierce. There's no other way to describe them. They write, act, direct with incredible intensity. Bennett Miller, who directed PSH in Capote, first met him at a theater camp in Saratoga over twenty years ago, and said that everyone liked him because he was serious about acting.

Haha, it's funny...this Times article...I think I mentioned that theater is my first love and you never get over your first love:

...It is easy to forget that Hoffman is a major movie star with an Oscar on his mantel. He appears not to have a trace of ego. “That’s why I wrote the character of the saintly nurse Phil Parma in ‘Magnolia’ for Phil,” said Paul Thomas Anderson. “Phil is that good — he’s committed to art and not in a phony, grandstanding way. He really wants to live a life in the arts that means something.” There are few other Academy Award-winning actors who have devoted themselves to the full-time running of a theater company. “It sounds noble, but it’s really not,” Hoffman said. “I do this because it gives me a home, a place where I can come and work. The movies are great, but they require a different kind of concentration, and then they’re over. Theater was my first love, and it’s been the biggest influence on my life. The theater is why I got into acting and why I’m still in acting...I’m happy here,” he said, sounding surprised at his glee. “You never forget your first love.”

I used to be on the fence about how I felt about PSH--I still haven't seen Capote, but I think I slightly resented him for beating Heath Ledger for the Oscar in 2006--but ever since Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, I've been warming up to him. Now I'm definitely a fan...

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Now playing: Gin Blossoms - Hey Jealousy

Chris Noth by Ron Galotti

Sooo. Interview magazine is my latest obsession. Well, not obsession...preoccupation? I just read, finally, the June/July one celebrating Andy Warhol's 80th birthday (aside from, ya know, the fact that he's dead) and it was great. It had a lot I want to jot down notes about so I'm going to break it up. There was this short interview of Chris Noth (Mr. Big on Sex and the City) by the guy who inspired his SatC character, Ron Galotti. He's a former magazine publisher that once had a relationship with Candace Bushnell, the creator of SatC and the real-life Carrie Bradshaw. They had a lot to say on New York City, and I liked it.

RG: I miss on occasion, being smart, which New York provides--you know, that sensibility. But with the exclusion of that, I would say nothing else.
CN: Well, yeah. New York is pretty much commercialized to the point of no return...I came here as an actor in '78. It's a city for me to work in. But the excitement of New York was the varied and diverse eccentrics who were able to live there, and the different neighborhoods and the different kinds of places that they created. That's all been washed out...It's very suburban. The art scene really left, except in patches. It's all about a sort of a corporate sensibility, and it's squeezed out room for any other kind of sensibility--money talks, bullshit walks, I guess...I mean, I think we all have those stories of struggling in New York. But the fact of the matter is, we were able to do that. The city provided a cushion, so to speak, where we could struggle.
RG: Oh, no. None of us can do that anymore. Too expensive.
CN: What does that mean when you say that, though? That means that only certain kinds of people can be in the city. People pooh-pooh the idea that everything changes. But if you get so rarefied that you can't live in the city unless you're making a quarter-million dollars a year, then what does that mean?
RG: I don't think a quarter of a million is going to cut it!
CN: Hell. Shit.
...
RG: When I was a kid, we hitchhiked all over.
CN: Oh, Jesus Christ. I'd hitchhike to the Berkshires, across the country. It was a way of life... So when you say, "Well, you can't hitchhike anymore," what does that mean? It means it's a fearful environment where no one can trust to pick up a stranger, or a stranger can't trust to get in a car. I remember girls used to hitchhike. There's a great chapter [in On the Road] of Kerouac hitching south and west, and hopping trains, and experiencing life in America, and opening himself up to finding answers. That search I find lacking. That openness. Right now, we've got ourselves stuck in one thing, which is to make money as fast as we can--because it's hard to live in this world without it. Let's face it.

It's funny, because I was reading an article in Newsweek the other day by a recent college grad who lives with three or four other girls in the city, and she says it's completely feasible - you just have to realize that 1) you can't have that glamorous, high lifestyle that people kind of associate with living in New York, and 2) 80% of your paycheck is going to go to your rent. But, it's not impossible. I like that these guys, though, point out that it's not as easy as it once was, and even though it's possible, it's not the same. They make it seem like there's no room for that exploration, for residing in the city while searching and creating and experiencing. Unfortunately, I'm inclined to think they're right.

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Now playing: Aimee Mann - Save Me

Ode to...New York?

Well then. I was watching this cute little flick Definitely Maybe the other day. It's a pretty solid romantic comedy - more than solid, it's smart, fun, and everything a good rom-com should be, without descending into completely cliche and overdone and silly - it doesn't sell out. The story is a little worn, but dressed up to play out better, and it works. The casting is excellent, which the great acting proves, the direction is good, the music is wonderful, the editing is complementary, and bottom line, it's a quality chick flick. Even though I enjoy it immensely for being good work and a fun movie, I was watching it the other day for a different reason.

It takes place in New York. While I am a sucker for any movie that takes place in New York, this paints a particularly wonderful image of the city. The main course aim of the global seminar I took this summer, "The Myths of Venice," was to study the image of Venice, how the city is presented in art and history, and its relevance and role as a setting in literature and film. Since then, I notice that I tend to give the setting of a piece of fiction more consideration. I realized that in Definitely Maybe, I fell in love with New York as much as I did the characters. The streets, the apartments, the parks - it's truly a beautiful city.

In this sense, so many films are as much love letters to their locations as they are stories. Little Manhattan, When Harry Met Sally. Garden State and Clerks. for New Jersey. Good Will Hunting is an ode to Boston; Elizabethtown, to the American South. Before Sunrise is dedicated to Vienna; Before Sunset to Paris. Roman Holiday is a tour of Rome the same way Summertime is a tour of Venice. I really like that.

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Now playing: John Mayer Trio - Who Did You Think I Was