Rude Mechs Workshop

Haven't posted much in a while. Busy writing a thesis, graduating, rewriting a couple of screenplays. BTW, Good news. "Unmoored," the screenplay Erica Saleh and I wrote last summer, that Marie Brown and Yari Wolinsky directed, and that Mark Scheibmeir and Stacey Cabaj starred in, premiered at the "Dances with Films" festival in Los Angeles this weekend. Marie spoke after the screening -- sounds like it was well-received.

I'm in week two of a two-week workshop with The Rude Mechanicals (Rude Mechs), for my money the most interesting theater company in Austin. Kirk Lynn, their resident playwright (and one of several Artistic Directors) taught at UT this year, where I got a chance to know him relatively well. He's amazing...as are the other Rude Mechs, from what I've seen.

We're workshopping four scenes from "I've Never Been So Happy," their first musical. It's a western. So far, I get to sing all the high backup notes, get dragged around in a knot of rope, and play the Sheriff. It's awesome. Christina, who is dramaturging, has been blogging about the whole process on the Rude Mech website:

http://rudemechs.blogspot.com/.

The Mechs got a grant from UT to develop the musical, hence the involvement of students, and a grant from TCG, hence the LIVE VIDEO STREAM of the entire rehearsal process, available on the tcg website. So that's cool. And it means I don't need to talk about any of the neat things Christina's discussing, because you can find that commentary on HER posts.

So. The thing about this process is that I'm mostly singing. Which means I'm banging away at harmonies while other folks are doing things that require a little more active dramaturgy. But there are still some lessons:

1) Boy, do you want everybody in the room to say "Yes, And" during a workshop. Ten actors, ten days, and a shitload to do. There isn't time for "I'm tired" or "Eh...I don't know..." Balls-to-the-walls actors who will do anything that doesn't involve serious danger -- that's the name of the game. We've been scaling walls, developing rope burns, singing for hours at a time without a break...and the bravest, craziest folks in the room are the Mechs themselves. They're acrobats, puzzle-masters, and problem-solvers.

2) Know what you're going for. The Rude Mechs might not know exactly what each moment will BE, but they know exactly what each moment needs to DO. IE "The music is really pretty here, but we're not going for pretty -- ugly up the voices, and let your bodies say 'we don't give a shit' so that we're in counterpoint to the music" or "okay, they just got something long and complicated, so this moment is the palate-cleanser" or "don't cheat. Watching you struggle is interesting. Watching you succeed by cheating is boring. And keep the struggle out of your face. Just do it." -- Yeah, there are several lessons in those statements about what's interesting onstage...but in each narrow slice of the show, the directors know what needs to be accomplished. It's up to us to figure out the specifics, but they have a deep understanding of the path they want the audience to take.

3) Let people work to their expertise. Kirk's a writer. He ain't directing us. Thomas knows physical stuff. He ain't tellin' Peter how to write his music. Erin's the queen of the visual world (talk about amazing puppetry and projections!!!!)...she ain't tellin' us how to act. Not that everybody doesn't occasionally have a quick idea that might add...but sometimes the workshop feels like when I go to the grocery store with my mother, rip the list in half, and say "meet you at checkout." We wrote the list together, we are intimately familiar with each others' tastes, and we trust each other to make the best choices on the details.