Good Things Happen When You Listen

 

As Honest As I Can

Gentle murmur

Spreads from the lobby

To inside the theatre.

It’s nearly a full house

For the Sunday matinee,

Which is usually subdued,

If not comatose.

But not today.

A throng of activists
Have arrived to see their friends,

And there’ll be no shortage of energy.

Theatre folks not only make

The best theatre, they’re

The best audience.

Why?

The default mode is support.

And if those on stage respect the work,

The reward comes in waves.

Lights flicker, then dim as 

The taped welcome begins

And, at last, ends.

Lights go completely out.

It’s true. 

You can hear a pin drop;

The focus in the room is tangible;

A breathing, living force.

And we’re off!
Another walk on the wire,

One careful, yet joyous,

Step at a time.

Raw Footage

 Last week Melanie Simmons filmed Dan Wilson and me doing a scene from THE GRAPES OF WRATH.

Tom Joad, just released from prison, heads home for the first time in four years. He comes upon Jim Casy, a former preacher who has evolved from a "burning busher" to someone who sees "religion" in more human terms ... in that instead of "putting it all on God and Jesus" .... that all people "got one big soul everybody's part of."

Casy's personal dilemma triggers the path that Tom Joad takes ... it is an insanely great role as is the role of Tom Joad. Henry Fonda as Tom Joad, and the great John Carradine as Casy. The film, however, butchers the beginning, but the two actors are TREMENDOUS.

Dan was in BLOOD DONE SIGN MY NAME, which is how we met. Later that year he said he wanted to film the scene for his reel for a site we use to get film/tv work, ACTORS ACCESS. One thing led, though, led to many other things, and we didn't get around to filming until last week. Dan had met Melanie, a terrific actress who is also proficient with a video camera, and there's a very strong probability, the three of us will be working together again and hopefully often. We had a fantastic time on this shoot.

A hefty chunk of the quality of my Casy comes from Dan's input, who grew up as a Christian who went to church three times a week, but like the character Casy, came to "see things" differently.

I, of course, grew up as a heretic, perhaps heathen. My family went to a non-denominational church, and I managed to elude 95 percent of the Bible study. My views of religion have always been ethereal/socalist, and thus when i read Casy's lines, I had, literally, a soul mate.

Still, it took some prodding by Dan to deepen Casy's dilemma, and i'm totally grateful. When one can learn about process, a character and oneself in the same moment, that's an excellent day.

Whispered Essence

A mammoth jar

Lurks at the tail end

Of winding copper wire.

Patience, though often

Its own reward, will

Soon be compensated

When gravity prompts

Vital drops of liquid

that had once been vapor,

But has been cooled,

To finally plunge south.

Burns your tummy as
You holler hi-de-ho.

Lights go spinning

And all is quite well

Even though a massive

Headache is on the way.

You wanna dance?
Pay the musician.
You wanna sing?
Take another shot.

As always a little

Goes a long, long way.

Same with espresso.
It’s all about the gist.

Remember too much 

Is way too much.

Big Daddy meets Brick

Halfway on the landing.
Romeo spots Juliet in the crowd.

Red's bus heads toward

The border, one side his pain;

The other his release.

When it comes to the best.

No one waves a flag,

Chews the scenery,

Tries to dominate focus.

Instead, they animate

Just enough

To offer a hint,

A subtle clue:

Allowing what’s underneath

To blink and murmur;

To inform, then activate

Another journey on

That whispered essence.

 

Musings from a low-budget film set

 

Last July I was introduced to Terri Dollar and Julie ter Avest, who run KU Talent Agency.

That meeting led to various auditions, one of which turned into a booking for a video shoot in Winston-Salem the first week of August

During that video shoot, I met one of the producers, Braxton Langston-Chapman, who was booked to be the Director of Photography for an independent film to be shot in Raleigh, Sept. 13-25.

Braxton engages a stranger instantly as he is armed with keen intelligence, a quick wit, and fantastic listening skills. Few things are more compelling than someone who truly hears what you say.

So we hit it off. 

Braxton asked me, "Are you a good actor?"

"I have my moments."

"You are perfect for a role in a film that we're gonna shoot in Raleigh for two weeks in September. Interested?"

"Sure," I said.

Little did I know during a long chat with Braxton, he'd asked if he could take my picture but was actually taping me to send to the writer/producer of THE RED ROOM, Quis Wallace, in New York.

The following afternoon, Quis got in touch, and that conversation led to signing an NDA and getting a copy of the script.

THE RED ROOM then became my prime focus as I read the script several times, and began learning lines for a story about a thriller author who needs to act out (as in actually do) grisly murder to provide inspiration. Jacob Rory, a charming psychopath on one hand, and in the other, a bloody knife.

We had 5 rehearsals via Zoom.

On Sept. 13, we met for the first time at our location, a house in Cary, where we shot most of the film. We used one day at a different location for several key scenes.

In theatre, which is 99 percent the bulk of my experience, a cast/crew meets as strangers and during the trek from early rehearsal, to run thrus, to tech, and then performance, some level of "family" evolves. In my view, the best projects also have the best "sense" of family.

A film set, at least for me, is no different. All of my observations are from one experience, however, so get a container of salt and fill the shaker.

Strangers on the first day have an opportunity to become friends. Hours are long, and not everyone is working at the same time.

My struggle, and it will likely always be a task, was to accept how slowly things happened.

One also begins to fully appreciate the meaning of the word collaboration.

A shot needs an angle and needs to be lit, and if lucky, actors that know what they are doing.

If that sounds easy, you are crazy.

It is magic when the technical elements and the "talent" hit their marks together.

And when that happens, everyone gets stoked.

A film set is a rubber raft cast at sea, and everyone paddles to get to shore.

The first week we had long days. The second week we learned a much keener definition of what LONG really means.

Quis and the crew were up late and back at it early.

There's an art to turning off one's body and mind on a film set, and yet retain a state of "readiness."

It might be three hours or more between scenes.

Happily, there were places to lounge at the location.

So the answer became: This is not about time. This is about what needs to get done.

We shot four of my longest scenes the first week, which was ideal scheduling. Everyone was still fresh, and those scenes went well.

In every collaborative endeavor, friction is a given. Handling it and moving on is the key. Thought THE RED ROOM shoot did that quite well.

At times it seemed as if the project would not be completely filmed in time. But with mammoth effort the final three days, our raft reached land.

Now, there will be a lengthy period of waiting. But eventually, there will be a film that can be viewed.

"They're gonna put me in the movies ..."

The Red Room 

THE STORY

When an aspiring writer is offered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity as a writing assistant to her favorite novelist, she agrees to spend a weekend with the eccentric novelist and his wife, but it quickly turns into a deadly game of cat and mouse due to the novelist's unconventional writing process.  

CAST

Aleigh Burt: Playing the role of "Nia". 

"My name is Aleigha Burt, and I’ve been cast as Nia in the movie, “The Red Room.” I’m an actress based out of Atlanta, GA, and I love to travel, EAT and binge-watch anything created by the true QUEEN, Shonda Rhimes. I’m so excited to be playing in my first thriller, and I can’t wait to get started on this project!”

Mark Phialas: Playing the role of "Jacob Rory"

" I’ve been captivated with stories most of my life, whether they be revealed on a stage, a film set, a football stadium, a basketball arena, or something as simple as old friends running into each other in a park, both with tales to share. I’m passionate about the process of that telling, as each story has its own parameters, it's own “recipe” that brings the cake to the table, so to speak. Thrilled to be granted the opportunity to be part of the collaborative undertaking of THE RED ROOM. It's going to be a heck of a ride."

Celeste Marcone: Playing the role of "Jennifer Rory"

"Born and raised in South Carolina as one of seven kids, I navigated to North Carolina for my college years, with a degree in Drama/Theatre Arts and English/Literature. I spent many years focusing on live theatre before navigating towards film and commercial work. My quirky sense of humor led me to get up in front of the class as far back as elementary school to “act” during oral presentations and reports I had to present – and showed me how much I enjoyed it! Performing allows me to explore the lives of different people in various situations and relationships. I cannot be more excited and thankful to work with this talented group of cast and crew."

Erycka Anderson: Playing the Role of "Dee"

"I'm a fun and very sarcastic person and I love showcasing a good vibe for the people I'm around. I'm excited for the audience to be pulled into this rollercoaster of a ride on The Red Room. Truly a masterpiece and will have you on the edge of your seat."

Tatianna Blount: Playing the role of "Alexandria."

"NC native with a passion for cinema and film production. Free-spirited, slightly offbeat, and love to laugh. Super excited about getting on set! I love to learn and welcome taking direction. Beyond ecstatic to see what the crew is going to pull out of every member of the cast."

CREW

Director/Writer: Marquis Wallace

Line Producer: Charlee Moss

Supervising producer: Devon Gulati

Associate Producer: Nahomy Gonzalaz

Post Producer: Jinell Web

DP: Braxton Langston-Chapman

Sound: Chris Meadows

PA/AC: Gabrielle Joseph

First Day In Heaven

Turkey’s on the table

With dressing, mashed potatoes,

green beans and gravy.

Soon, no room for the pecan pie.

A digital screen in the corner

Shares images every 5 seconds.

Monet.

Pissarro.

Norman Rockwell.

Cailleboite.

A much bigger flatscreen

in the living room

suggests a show will begin.

Fresh and green.

Hope forever.

Red hair. An Irish accent.

A fiddle in the distance.

John Ford. John Wayne. Maureen O’Hara.

We follow a well-marked path,

Taking the turns

With the ups

And the downs.

Thriving on the echoes

Awake and dreaming;

As we ease closer 

And closer

To wanting that pie.

Meet The Boeberts

 

To the tune of DOCTOR ROBERT with apologies to The Beatles;

Bling my friend, give them a call The Boeberts

Day or night you’ll be appalled, The Boeberts

With The Boeberts, you're a new and better man

Their specialty is glands

They do everything so grand, The Boeberts

If you're down they'll pick you up, The Boeberts

Take a drink from their special cup, The Boebertss

With the Boeberts, they’re a pair you must believe

Helping everyone in need

No one can succeed like The Boeberts

Well, well, well, they're feeling fine

Well, well, well, they’ll make you... The Boeberts

Yes they oppose Medicare, The Boeberts

COVID is just a liberal scare, The Boeberts

With The Boeberts, you never have a plan

Their house is built on sand

Even their laughter is canned, The Boeberts

Well, well, well, they’re feeling fine

Well, well, well, they’ll make you... The Boeberts

Bling my friend, I said you'd call The Boeberts

Bling my friend, I said you'd call The Boeberts

The Boeberts

Feel Good

The camera pans across

An enormous, brightly dotted field

Of vegetation and flowers without names.

Soon, the lure of violins and French horns

Matches the appeal of the angle of light,

Provided by easy-going clouds,

Stepping aside to allow shafts

Of golden arrows to find their way home.

A meandering, cobbled road

Stretches across this visual canvas.

One end in a valley curves

Upward to a timeless village, where a lone figure

Stands on one of the stone roofs,

Gazing out and perhaps down.

As the credits begin,

Sadness pervades.
The conclusion we’d hoped for,

Did not happen. 

But, as we begin to leave the theater,

Another solitary figure appears at the other end

Of that serpentine pathway.

Soon, both figures seem aware

Of each other, the one in town

Descends a series of rocky steps,

And strides briskly south,

While the other steps up the pace north.

Then, a collective gasp:

“It just might be.”

The credits pause to allow

The necessary conclusion

Of a well-told tale: 

One that compelled its audience 

To suffer with seeming risky,

If not tragic, hope;

And ultimately, give in to dark reality.

But no, in the end, one final surprise:

As the figures embrace,

The screen freezes

In extreme closeup.
It’s going to be all right ...

After all.

Better than all right,

Actually.

Just what a good doctor

Would have prescribed:

“Please allow me to say

Only one thing can get

You feeling a different way.
You need a feel good movie

And you need it today.”

First Timers

Mountain climbers,

Literate mimers

And iambic rhymers

At one point were

All first timers.

You can't look up.

Never look down.

Just don't get lost

Before you're found.

Nothing old.

Nothing borrowed.

Nothing blue.

No happy hello

Nor a pensive adieu.

What's a new boy

Gonna do?

Flash of creamy thigh;

A wistful sigh.

All in due time

Bye the bye.

Do you remember

How old you were?

Was it a quick shot

Or did you meander?

Were you sober?

Were you high?

Whistles and bells

As the train roared by?

A fresh canvass.

A hidden alcove

Somewhere near

that shaded grove.

Time it was

was such a time;

Hues you'd choose,

Mostly prime.

Verlaines and Rimbauds

with ribbons and bows.

Yeah, give me one of those.

 

Play Hard, Play Smart, Play Together

 

Feeling April

Blustery March Tuesday

Selling angst by the pound;

Running from February

But still losing ground.

Bitter chill in the air,

Vicious and severe.

Thought it was spring?

Not yet, not round here.

Carrot Ginger Soup

Simmering toward its bowl;

Acoustic folk strumming,

Making things less cold.

Yeah, finally feeling April

Tuned to Dan and Kristin.

It's easy as humble pie;

You just got to listen.

Ghost of Abuelito,

Be Here Now,

Keep the river on your right:

But only if you know how.

She's got a one-way ticket;

She never quit dreamin'.

Same way hope fuels the

Ratio of angels to demons.

You can dance in a hurricane

But only in the eye.

That does make sense

But I doubt I'm gonna try.

I'm finally feeling April

Tuned to Kristin and Dan.

Perfect for MerleFest;

Now that's a plan!

A look back as we move forward

 

BOSCHED & BREUGLED

There’s a froggy bog

At Bougival.

Sirens wheezing.

Canadian geese geesing

To an off-tune violin cringe:

A melody without a hinge.

 

Assumed the stress

Was left behind

Snoozing on the fence.

Thought we were past tense.

 

But no.

This is the now.

Holy cow.

Stencils and pencils,

Oily utensils.

“Oh by gosh,”

Pierre muttered

with panache

and then spent the last 

Of his per diem

At the art museum.

 

Gaining access

He could address

Where he’d digressed.

 

Later he confessed

That he’d been depressed

If not somewhat possessed.

 

But he took his time,

Sipped his wine,

Enthralled at the shrine:

 

Bosched and Bruegled;

Renoired and café tabled;

Scarlett lettered and Clark Gabled.

 

Rodin and fisacoed

Picassoed and lassoed;

Degas viewed, and thus El Passoed. 

 

     HOAX MUSIC

Seems like yesterday,

Word came about

A virus in China.

 

Cruise ship docks

In Seattle.

Endless prattle.

Shimmy and slide

As people soon died.

 

White House

Assumes we’re 

Just a bunch of mokes:

Mindless, clueless

Eager for Saturday tokes.

 

That we’ll ignore

The world is on fire.

“Just give them their smokes.”

 

Maskhole MAGA Hatters,

Dumb and Dumber.

Pandemic soon ensues.

So many without a clue.

 

White House insists

That it’s a hoax;

If we test less,

Less folks choke.

Is that some kind

Of fucking joke?

 

Up to you

How you choose it.

Backbeat, something

To help you lose it.

Might even be therapeutic.

Turn it up loud and proud

And play your hoax music.

 

 

 MORE OTIS REDDING

Sundays a long time ago

Were different.

Even for those who didn't go

to a gathering where they listened

To ideals, sang some chants;

Then scurried to buffets

Like eager ants.

Some might say

This is good book abuse;

That the Lord would not

Appreciate this point of view.

I disagree.

Who knows what the

Actual Lord might do?

Here's the thing about prayer.

It's one way to simply

Slow down and breathe.

One man's mantra

Might be another's 

Memorized verse.

No one's demanding or

Trying to coerce

That the notion of different

Wears its badge of diverse.

Yet, maybe you'll agree:

Lots of ways to get that

Cat out of the bag

Or loose from the tree.

Sunday early morning

on the porch in an easy chair:

Watching walkers slide past.

Some alone, some in pairs.

Birds chirping in a warm breeze;

Putting the laissez in laissez-faire.

Some insist there's a stairway

to the great beyond, even heaven.

Might be true, might just be

Some calm water you're treading.

Now, with so much rancor, we need

More Otis Redding, less Armageddon.

But where we can find Jesus

If not in a congregation?

If we don't meet on Sundays

We're inciting damnation.

How can we be forgiven?

Where is our salvation?

Take a look around.

Every day is an opportunity

To lovingly share this world:

It's just one big community.

You can pray to an icon

Or even a doctrine.

You can buy and sell

The soul at an auction.

You can also breathe

and meditate.

Find yourself.

Lose the hate.

That's really

All it takes.

Breathe, and

Lose the hate.

COMING ATTRACTIONS

Better days are coming. 

But I am not sure how or when.

Just a feeling.

Maybe it’s a dream:

Faith and hope 

Meet as strangers on a train

With a couple of tickets to ride.

Were they just day trippers?

Or did they get all the way home?

Keeping all my cards close to the vest.

2020 was an Attitude Rorschach Test.

VISION

Feeling the need

To know what’s waiting

at the end of this tunnel?

One might Google 

Zoom classes 

In mysticism:

The first site that appears

Is based in Florida.

And that brought a laugh.

Perhaps that mystic

Is related to those

Fortune tellers who reside

In trailers on the herpes side of town.

Got to wonder

If they can actually

Sense what is ahead,

And proof would be,

At the very least,

Decent housing.

Madame LaRue

Can con a client

Just so often,

Or she’d move.

Had an annual eye exam.

And it’s interesting

How many lenses

Can be twisted and turned

Allowing one alternately

Better and worse views.

Sort of like reality.

Or at least how

One perceives what 

Might be true:

It’s all how it applies

Strictly to you.

One can argue art.

What it means.

How valuable it might be.

But one has to be clear

When it comes to science.

Science lacks political savvy.

It has no guile.

It just presents itself,

And one either gets it or not.

Gravity, for instance.

Even a MAGA hatter

Might be aware

That what goes up

Is gonna come down.

Some say hindsight is perfect vision.

That by looking back

At what actually happened

That that is clarity.

Maybe that’s valid.

This year we’ve witnessed

A bunch of rear ends

Making true asses of themselves.

Maybe that’s what the cliché suggests:

Hindsight is 2020.

So many hinds. So much sight.

Perhaps that’s what it means.

So, what have we learned?

That’s to be determined

While sensible people mull:

What fresh hell will 2021 bring?