Unicorn Theater – Behind the Proscenium

February 21, 2011April 25, 2011

Romeo and Juliet @ Circle In The O

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.

Shakespeare has been performed in many ways in the thousands of years since the Bard of Avon took pen to paper and spilled his genius on the page. Each of his miraculous plays has been performed hundreds, nay thousands, nay hundreds of thousands of times.

I have seen “Midsummer’s” set at a high school in America during the 1950s; “Shrew” set in the Old West and; “Richard III” set in Hitler’s Germany (or Franco’s Spain, or Mussolini’s Italy – I get it, Dick was a fascist). I’ve seen “Hamlet” in a black box theater with the cast in t-shirts and black jeans… “Much Ado About Nothing” in 18th century Spain… “The Tempest” in a hippie commune… “Richard II” in a bath house (with real steam!).

I thought I had seen it all. Until last night. Glorious, wonderful last night.

What made last night so glorious (and wonderful)? The unexpected! And what made THAT so brilliant is that I had no idea that it was coming. The marquee read “Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare”. I was sitting in the “Circle in the O – Presented by Manka Broadway”. What would I see? Our young, tragic lovers updated to New York, “West Side Story” style? Or would they be of two different races on an alien planet? Romeo from a Confederate and Juliet’s supporting the Union? I quivered with anticipation.

And then it happened.

The curtain came up and I choked – LITERALLY CHOCKED in amazement – a beautiful set appeared – showing Verona as it was sometime in the 1590s! And then the actors came on stage… dressed in the same period!

I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Stop lying to me, eyes!” I shouted at my eyeballs (in my mind). What could the director be thinking? Setting a Shakespearean play in the Elizabethan period – in the country the play was set in as seen through the eyes of a person from Elizabethan England?

I was stunned, my reality had been shattered. Could this be? After two hours traffic of the stage (well, three hours – Shakespeare must not have thought about how long it can take an American actor to get through his words – after all, America wasn’t invested until much, much later) I realized that this COULD be. That this SHOULD be.

So, my extended theater family, are you ready to see what has never been done before? Are you ready to have your mind stretched like so much taffy (which is dreadful and pulls out your dental work)? Then make yourself ready to see Shakespeare set in a totally alien environment. Where it was intended?

Behind The Proscenium Is Back!

[Editor’s Note: Kyrle Lendhoffer’s column Behind The Proscenium has been on a management-ordered temporary hiatus for the past couple of weeks. Mr. Lendhoffer would like to set the record straight on recent events and give you some insight into what transpired. Manka Bros. and the Manka Bros. Publishing Group supports an individual’s right to personal security and does not support alleged criminal behavior by our employees.]

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A Personal Note From Kyrle Lendhoffer:

Stalker. It is a dirty word. A dirty word for dirty people.

I am not dirty, and yet the press – most of whom I thought of as colleagues and friends – decided to paint me with that brush. And once painted one cannot become unpainted, even if one did not deserve the lash of the brush that would paint one with the world “stalker” – metaphorically, smack dab in the forehead. I was forced to wear the scarlet “S”. Painted on by cretins… and foul and ugly mists of vapours!

Where do I begin? When one has been thrown in a trash heap, how can he recall the steps in reverse? From the moral refuse dump of the damned, back into the dump truck, back into the city collection scow where he (ME) was dumped from the ash can after being unceremoniously and callously tossed away – BY PEOPLE THOUGHT TO BE FRIENDS!

And yes! I did intend the all caps to be a primal yell from the heart! My broken, bleeding, weeping heart.

You see, recently I began a series of interviews with (I find it almost unbearable to type his name) Zachary Tisdale.

We first met a month ago or so at the Manka Palace Theatre when the Tennessee Williams masterwork “Haunted Alligators” was in rehearsal. Before I knew any better, I began to believe that Zachary was a paragon of acting as well as that of chiseled manhood (how God would have allowed such amazing pectoral muscles to be attached to such a clod I will never know, but I digress).

After our second or third interview together (only one was allowed to be printed by the Manka Bros. Corporate Gestapos!), I began to feel as if we had started to forge a special relationship. He would be the artist above the rest of the world, a God in a pantheon that few people outside of “show business” would ever understand.

I was positioned to be the conduit that would allow the world to see his brilliance – and let the hoi polloi hear his honeyed voice, yet help maintain the buffer that his kind of genius needs from the great unwashed.

To set the record straight: On the night of February 8th, I did not STALK Mr. Tisdale. I had earlier that evening witnessed his God-like brilliance in Haunted Alligators and simply wanted to offer my congratulations.

I approached him without warning in an alley outside of the theater, just as any resourceful and professional writer would have done. Although we were quite close at this time (despite what Zachary says now. Oh, Zachary, why do you still try to hurt me?), I thought that by taking him unaware it would make for a more open exchange of pleasantries.

And I was so right! If the courts would ever allow me to enter into the official transcript my side of the story, dear reader, you would be in heaven.

Flush with the glory of that night’s success, I decided that the time was ripe for another interview. Why so soon? I was at a bar (unnamed, they no longer get my business nor shall they get yours) with several (ex) friends celebrating Haunted Alligators’ triumph. Little did I know, as I downed Brandy Alexander after delicious Brandy Alexander, that I was having a hand in my own epic downfall. Drinking at a bastard Judas bar, surrounded by bastard Judas barflies.

As the sweet nectar rushed to my brain, my (ex) friends suggested that it would be a perfect time to get a follow-up interview from Zachary. And in my state of inebriation, I agreed that it was a magnificent idea.

To make a protracted saga petite, I did NOT (at 2:25 a.m. as the police state – yes, Police State!) stand in front of Zachary’s brownstone shouting unsuitable comments at the top of my lungs. I was merely trying to ascertain if Mr. Tisdale was in his apartment, and if so, why he wasn’t answering his buzzer. He could have been in distress (a push-up accident or some other work out calamity – well, “damn me to hell” for my generous concern). The police and, ultimately, the courts disagreed with me. So be it. The Pope disagreed with Galileo and we all know who was right in the end!

I must stop now – my plea agreement allows me only so many words to attend to this event. But I feel better. I feel as if my words are the kerosene that helps me remove this hideous “S” from my forehead.

And as for you, Mr. Tisdale, I know you think that your daring tongue scorns to unsay what it once hath delivered – but I know better.

And I will accept your call… and your apology over dinner. Because I am not “dirty”. I am not… a STALKER!

Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium

P.S. – For the time being, I am allowed to work – and I have just seen the most delightful production of Romeo & Juliet @ The Circle In The O (review coming tomorrow!)

January 29, 2011April 26, 2011

Tennessee Williams’ Haunted Alligators – Zachary Tisdale Interview

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