With Kyrle Lendhoffer & Kimmo Mustonenen
Golden Globe Awards – 2014 – Live
With Wit, Reviewed Live by Kimmo Mustonenen
UPDATE: Kimmo’s brother in Finland had a heart attack (he will be fine) but Kimmo will be unable to live blog the Golden Globes tonight.
Apologies.
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Hello.
The Golden Globes are tomorrow.
Follow my feed if you have the balls.
I’ll be drunk – will you?
Kimmo Mustonenen – (Kimmo On Kino) – Behind The Proscenium
I normally attack theater from the review flank. I use my insight to take you, the possible audience member, into the “reality” of what a theatrical event may be like – without you having to actually be part of the reality. I try to express the theatricity of a theatrical event through the written word. It is my job – to bring the entire experience of sitting in a theater, marveling at what is taking place on stage, the smells of the greasepaint and the dinner that is stuck to the lapel of the patron next to you – without your ever having to enter a theater. Although entering a theater to see a play is always best!
There are times when one is a witness to history.
This week was such a time for me. I sat in on an early rehearsal of what is bound to become the most talked about, most loved theater experience in the history of man. Hyperbole? I think not.
Mankind will see what I caught a mere glimpse of… and mankind will be IN AWE.
Yes, finally, a production of THE MAHABHARATA that will make Peter Brook cry like a little girl… again.
I sat down with the man who adapted this great piece of Vedic literature, GUSTAFF HINTER. As we talked the genius director JACKSON NITRATE joined us.
Kyrle Lendhoffer: Gustaff, how are you today?
This week I had the pleasure to sit down with Heinrich Mantle, the director of the upcoming Manka Black Box theatrical treat Platonov by Anton Chekhov. Mantle has challenged audiences for three decades with his deconstruction and recomposition of many of our most beloved classics. He has repeatedly shown that he has no fear, artistically.
Kyrle Lendhoffer: Heinrich, welcome to Behind The Proscenium.
Heinrich Mantle: My pleasure.
KL: Let me cut to the chase. Why Platonov? Why now?
HM: As for Platonov, why not? It’s never performed. It had an original running time of six hours. Chekhov didn’t even like it compared to his other work. As for why now? Broadway needs Chekhov. But Broadway needs the Chekhov that Chekhov didn’t appreciate. Because even though Broadway needs Chekhov, it doesn’t need regurgitated Chekhov. And speaking of that, if I see Uncle Vanya or The Cherry Orchard one more time with period costumes in a pretty little country villa, I will be physically sick.
KL: But isn’t that what Chekhov intended?
HM: How do we know what Chekhov intended? He is dead! Maybe he would have preferred The Cherry Orchard on the moon. We’ll never know for sure – but we can try!
KL: Tell me about your ideas of conceptual theater.
HM: I believe in bringing fresh, new perspectives to shows that have been – shall we say – heavily produced in the past. And these concepts bring modern audiences directly into the viewing experience, where they’re forced to confront their previously conceived notions, prejudice and feelings of the piece and, most importantly, their own lives.
KL: Like your production of Strange Interlude. It caused quite a controversy.
HM: Strange Interlude was a strange duck indeed! I kept everything in line with Eugene O’Neill’s vision – with one very major change. Instead of the characters turning to the audience to say their internal monologues, another actor – representing a player from the Miami Dolphins 1972 NFL Championship team – would come out say the lines.
KL: Why the 1972 Miami Dolphins?
HM: Who wouldn’t want their deepest thoughts expressed by the only undefeated team in modern NFL history? And, yes, I am including last year’s Super Bowl choking New England Patriots.
KL: I would prefer the 1927 Yankees—
HM: Base-baller!
(Laughter)
KL: So, the character of Marsden was represented by Bob Griese…
HM: And Evans, Larry Csonka. Nina’s inner self was represented by Garo Yepremian.
KL: Nina… by Garo Yepremian?
HM: Who better to represent a woman than a place-kicker?
KL: Wicked!
HM: Indeed…
KL: And then you placed Shakespeare’s The Comedy Of Errors in a Gothic mausoleum. Very bold!
HM: I don’t think audiences were quite ready for that one.
KL: Why a mausoleum?
HM: Think of it like this… you have two sets of twins running around Ephesus, there is confusion, laughter. How do you remind the audience of their own mortality? You surround the play with death!
KL: Doesn’t that damage the comedy?
HM: Exactly! And in the confusion, the audience can then see nothing but the truth!
KL: Amazing.
HM: Thank you.
KL: Back to Platonov. How have you approached this one?
HM: It was difficult. I was tearing apart my brain. You see, normally I find a concept. I work on that concept until it is perfect. Then I find a play that I can force that concept on. In this case, I worked in reverse. I found Platonov, and then I worked on the concept.
KL: And that concept was…?
HM: Thinking about it. Platonov’s life is hanging by a thread. But aren’t all of our lives hanging by threads?!? Then it hit me. The actors would hang from the ceiling with wires – or by a thread! And then as the actor’s relationships changed, they would rise above or below each other as their class status increased or decreased.
KL: Amazing again.
HM: Yes. For example, in a key scene between Platonov and Anna Petrovna, each character moves past each other spatially, or up and down to the layman, seven times. You can actually see where they stand.
KL: Or hang…
HM: Or hang, yes.
KL: Wow. One question – you said the play originally ran six hours. How long are you running now?
HM: After fierce cuts, the show now runs three hours – without an intermission.
KL: And the actors are hanging from wires the entire time?
HM: Yes, they are very dedicated.
KL: How do they use the bathroom?
HM: We’re working on that.
As you can see, Heinrich Mantle isn’t afraid to attack our comfortable views of what theater is. And even more important, what theater SHOULD be. It was a pleasure to interview him (again) for Behind The Proscenium.
Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium
Oh, dear reader! What my eyes have seen! That is, what my eyes have seen RECENTLY!
I have just returned home from a theatrical experience that has left me speechless – but thank the gods that it has not left me type-less.
I ask (rhetorically, of course) how often has it been that you have seen what you think that you would never see? Once? Twice? More like never. And yet we think that moment will definitely occur – like watching a full moon rise, or seeing a double rainbow (like that delightful man who cried on my computer – what bravery he had letting himself be set up for humiliation on the world wide web) or getting a decent table a Le Bernardin (try the oestra-sprinkled Spanish mackerel tartare, IF YOU DARE) on short notice. Impossible. But no.
Theater has existed as long as we have existed. From the first night when Caveperson “A” told a story to his/her fellow Cavepeople to keep their minds off of the saber tooth tigers roaming in the night – to last night’s performance of Haunted Alligators by Tennessee Williams at the Manka Palace Theater [EDITOR’S NOTE: The classic film version of Haunted Alligators can be seen this month on Manka Classic Movies].
I can now say that I have been to the top of the mountain.
I have seen the face of God.
I wonder how I continue in a career of theatrical criticism when everything that is to come will pale in comparison to perfection. PERFECT perfection.
Redundant? No. I simply try to hammer home how amazing this show is to your collective mortal minds.
Better yet, make your way to the theater to see this show in person. There are some who may say that I’m going overboard (and that I’ve been going overboard recently) and to that I say “NAY!”
Dear Reader, it is that we are living in one of the greatest eras of theater to exist since the Dawn of Man. How do I know how theater was at the Dawn of Man? I don’t. I just know that I don’t see too many revivals of Caveperson theater, and that is all that I need to know.
The show opened innocently enough. We find Chest (Zachary Tisdale who I had the pleasure to interview last week) and Livy (Nikki Abercrombie) sneaking toward the swamp shack, their sanctuary on the bayou. They are very much in the throes of love. And they are a comely couple. The fire between the two was apparent before they even began to speak.
Sitting in the fifth row, I started to sweat. The sweat of torment and lust. There was much declaiming of mutual attraction which was sadly derailed when Livy brought up her upcoming nuptials to the local plantation bigwig and patriarch of the Fatang clan, Large Willie.
The next scene opened up on the sumptuous Fatang mansion, known as Kudzu Manor.
Beautiful Charlotte (a radiant Gretchen Van Winkle) childhood friend of Livy, flits about the stage preparing for a grand wedding – all while taking care of her dimwit brother, Clayton (Michael Egan – almost unrecognizable from his last role as the union rabble rouser Frank Little in the Tony Award winning drama Butte: The Story Of A Hole).
Here the play takes an interesting turn; instead of plowing straight into the wedding, Tennessee Williams chose to introduce us to Large Wanda, who is the mother of Large Willie. She takes the dimwit Clayton aside and in a hauntingly beautiful scene (a once in a lifetime performance by Carolly Russ who was almost as stupendous in Mother Was A Ho And Custer Is Still Dead) tells Clayton of the horrors of marriage in the South. Clayton, oblivious, drools as if lost in a dream. A dimwit dream. Mesmerizing.
Then it is time for the wedding “celebration” and we are introduced to Large Willie (played with emotional intensity that almost knocked me to the floor by the multi-talented Leonard Menzies.
Ladies and gentlemen, we now know that he’s not just a comic juggler and fire dancer!). It is quite obvious who the life force is that steers life at Kudzu Manor. Large Willie takes over the stage and lays claim to his reluctant bride, Livy, as Charlotte and Clayton watch – both in tears, but not tears of joy. No, the tears of watching a friend being sold into indentured servitude.
In a horrible and soul crushing moment we see Chest looking in through the window – he howls, and then RIPS OFF HIS SHIRT revealing the pectoral muscles that I spoke of so eloquently last week. They are still delectable. His pecs, I mean. Yum.
Three years pass and Large Willie and Livy are found living in a domestic nightmare. Large Willie has large that he is dying from a lifetime of dipsomania and he takes out his anger on Livy as well as the servants of the house. He also knows that Livy has, and will always, love Chest.
Large Willie, on a downward spiral of self-pity and jealousy, prepares to leave for a weekend of whoring and debauchery in New Orleans. He is interrupted by Clayton, who droolingly mumbles something about seeing someone “creepin’ around the women down by the swamp shack.” Resigned to his fate and drinking heavily, Large Willie grabs his gun and makes his way toward destiny.
Dear Readers, I will not tell you anymore. Just know that you will see one of the greatest plays of American Theater unfold before your eyes.
Just know that Tennessee Williams is spinning in his grave – with joy! Joy! JOY!!!
I must catch my breath.
Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium
This is not an easy time in my life. After spending three days in Bedlam (well, it’s really a Catholic hospital in Mid-Town and I prefer not to mention its name in print), I was finally cleared by the Medieval Inquisition doctors to return to my apartment and to my real home, the theater. I want to thank everyone who came by my room and offered their prayers and support.
And to dear Chet, who is putting together a benefit to pay my medical bills (Manka Bros. Publishing does not offer insurance to its ‘lowly bloggers’), I give a heartfelt “thank you… thank you, darling.”
Life, however, isn’t always bad. Sometimes it is magnificent.
Like earlier this evening. I went to see another preview of Haunted Alligators (I remember very little of the last preview that I saw, as my fainting was so traumatic). I must say that the world has been robbed until now. Robbed of the greatness that is Tennessee Williams’ most momentous work. [EDITOR’S NOTE: The classic film version of Haunted Alligators can be seen this month on Manka Classic Movies].
Some say that it is derivative of Cat On A Hot Tin Roof. Well, poo to that! I say that Cat On A Hot Tin Roof is derivative of Haunted Alligators! In the coming weeks the world will know exactly what I am talking about.
Next week, I will review the opening of this brilliant show. This week I will give you an interview with the amazing actor Zachary Tisdale. Zachary is not only a towering monument to his craft, he has sculpted his body into something that would make Michelangelo proud. He is the epitome of the concept that an actor’s body is his only tool. Oh, and what a tool does Tisdale yield. I spoke to him last night in his dressing room.
Kyrle Lendhoffer: Zachary, thanks for taking the time to talk to me.
Zachary Tisdale: No problem, Mr. Lendhoffer.
KL: Kyrle, please.
ZT: All right.
KL: And may I call you Zach?
ZT: Sure. Why not…
KL: How about Zachie?
ZT: I don’t think so.
KL: First, uh Zach, I must say you are amazing. Can you walk me through the process?
ZT: Sure. First we get the script.
KL: Amazing.
ZT: Uh huh. Then we have a read through on the first day of rehearsal.
KL: Fantastic.
ZT: And at the end of the read through, we get our schedule for the week from the stage manager.
KL: That is SO important.
ZT: And then I go home and start to memorize my lines for the scenes that we’ll be rehearsing the next day.
KL: Yes, remembering all those words must be a chore.
ZT: It gets easier as you go along. I remember–
KL: Oh yes! You make it look effortless on stage.
ZT: What?
KL: On stage. Your work is effortless. And that means that you’ve been putting in the ultimate effort off stage.
ZT: Well, we all work very hard. I’m sorry, where were we?
KL: You learn your lines…
ZT: Oh, yeah. And I think of the through line of the play, and start tracking my character’s arc–
KL: Oh! The arc! Tell me about that.
ZT: Uh, the character starts at a certain point – emotionally, mentally, whatever. And things happen that change the character and then you arrive at a new point. It’s important to keep that arc specific.
KL: And what about your immaculate pectoral muscles?
ZT: Excuse me?
KL: Your pecs. A woman next to me said they were lickable.
ZT: That’s flattering.
KL: I agreed.
ZT: Whoa… Awkward.
KL: You should be very proud of your pecs. I am.
ZT: I, uh, well, yes, I am. I work out a lot and eat right. It isn’t easy.
KL: May I see them?
ZT: Excuse me?
KL: Right now. Can I see your pecs?
ZT: Come on – really?
KL: I’ve been ill. They would certainly perk me up.
ZT: Huh. Oh, look. I’ve got to head backstage for notes. It was great talking to you. Maybe we can do it again. Maybe.
KL: It has been a pleasure, Zachary, I mean, Zach. You have no idea how much of a pleasure it has been.
With that, the exquisite Mr. Tisdale left to receive his notes – and I can already tell you what his notes will be:
- “Your work is brilliant Zachary, keep it up.”
- “Do more interviews to promote the show – you’re the reason that people are here to see it.”
- “Find more moments to take off your shirt. Those pectorals need to be exposed to the widest audience possible.”
Next week, I will grace these pages with my review of the lost Tennessee Williams play Haunted Alligators. Will words fail me? Will I collapse from mental fatigue once again? Will they create a special Tony category for Pectoral Muscles?
We shall see, dear readers. We shall see.
Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium
Kyrle Lendhoffer’s column, Behind The Proscenium, will not appear this week. Mr. Lendhoffer took ill at a preview of Tennessee Williams’ lost play Haunted Alligators and was hospitalized. He is expected to make a full recovery. Everyone at Manka Bros. wishes him the best.
Here is a statement by Mr. Lendhoffer:
Thank you, dear readers, for your kind words in my hour (hours, more like it) of need. It is when things are darkest that one can truly appreciate the brilliance of light. And it was very dark for me. But you – all of you – came through for me and filled my hospital room (which was very Dickensian by the way. Manka Bros. Publishing does not give insurance for us ‘lowly bloggers’ – so ‘rat-infested room’ was all I could afford) will an illumination that filled my soul with song. A song that sounded like it was performed by a younger Len Cariou. And for that I was very happy. Len Cariou’s voice is delicious.
So, to make a long story longer (my sense of humor is intact! Huzzah!), I will be posting my review of Haunted Alligators, along with interviews with cast and crew, next week. I continue to regain my strength and look forward to watching another preview of this amazing show this weekend.
Until then, dear readers,
Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium
This is an apology. An online mea culpa. I take the proverbial cat o’nine tails and self flagellate. This is an open apology to the great Zenobia Lassiter.
Last week, I posted an interview and diatribe against her brilliant new work, Pussy. Yes, I said brilliant. I’ve not had time to process what I saw on stage.
I saw her put a fish in her “V” word and felt its power.
I saw her put on a Hitler mustache and read excerpts from Mao’s Little Red Book and now understand what it is to be forced to work retail in a strip mall.
I now know that as I listened to her describe her last colonoscopy that she was in fact talking about our need to vote on a regular basis if we ever hope to sustain democracy.
I had to nerve to say that performance art is neither! I was a Philistine. An ignorant man, who although he lives in a metropolis, has the mind of a plastic suburbanite. If I could find a way to spit on myself, I would.
So, dear Zenobia, here is what I have to say: I couldn’t possibly be more sorry. You are a genius. You are a colossus, and we peep about your feet like insects (I paraphrase my Shakespeare, but you know what I mean).
Zenobia, can you ever forgive me? Will you ever allow me to speak to you again, to sit in your angelic presence and absorb your unabashed brilliance? To be a mortal in the aura of a goddess? Please? Pretty please?
Ha!
The day that I apologize to the likes of you is the day that I buy season tickets to the barbaric New Jersey Devils and their hyper-man-beast NHL. YOU MAKE ME SICK!
Faithful readers, I hope you had a little chortle at my innocent prank.
In a week or so, I will be interviewing some of the artistic minds involved with the Manka Center Stage World Premiere of Tennessee Williams’ lost classic Haunted Alligators. You can see the 1960 film version all this month on Manka Classic Movies.
Yours In Art,
Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium