Tuesday, December 27, 2005
The Dirt
Well, I'm back from the caloric atom bomb that was my holiday weekend. Looking like an inverted mushroom cloud, I've shoe horned my way into the computer desk and continue to reel in a triptophanic haze, visions of sugar plums and that third slice of mincemeat pie dancing in my head.
In between helpings that could save an entire tsunami ravaged village, I managed to begin exploration of my premo, best Christmas present, "Lost", the first season on DVD. Yes, I know I could have just watched it all last year or waited for the inevitable deluge of reruns, but this show is the equivalent of storytelling crack. I've got to have each and every episode so that the Kennedy conspiracy can look like a reasonable and sane dinner conversation.
As I found myself plumbing every nook and cranny of the first DVD like Mario looking for secret worlds, I realized that I am obsessed with useless information. What the hell does it matter that the original explosion failed to truly capture the cataclysmic arrival of the survivors to the island? Do I really care what the audition tapes were like for the cast members? Unfortunately, I found that invariably the answer is/was, yes.
Instead of self-flagellating in front of the TV for lack of a life or interactive interests, it struck me that metaphorically, I wasn't alone (in fact, I was up alone late at night jumping forward and back on the DVD like a forty year old with his first VCR and a copy of Blue Lagoon). Surely, I wasn't the only one watching to see the critical flashback of Hurley winning the lottery and wondering whether it matters that the numbers are all retired Yankee jerseys? If the hype is to be believed, the "Lost" DVD was selling like hot cakes. Which led me to an epiphany in the wee hours of the night (no I wasn't imagining a prison scene between Kate and Ana Lucia), a lot of people enjoy the excess information and background nuggets. We've all become obsessed with that one little tidbit that makes us the geekiest member of any social gathering, in which our preferred story, movie or TV series comes up. Thank you VH-1 and "Pop-Up Video".
So, what does this sleep-deprived recognition of the obvious have to do with IF (aside from a desperate need to fill a blog entry)?
Well, I'm glad you asked.
During this production of "Truculentus" I will endeavor to give you the inside scoop on the process, the people and the drama (on and off stage). No, I'm not looking to usurp the Star, but hey maybe one more person will read these meanderings in hopes of learning who wears ducks on his feet to get into character.
So, get ready you ardent miners of the trivial, here we go.
Lets start with the show itself. The play was written in 200 B.C. by a Roman named Plautus. He was known for his earthy and satirical plays that poked at socially acceptable norms of the day. For the most part, while he and a few others produced a number of plays that survive until today, the Roman playwrights have gotten short shrift versus their Greek predecessors. Some of this was due to the Romans unabashedly stealing story lines from the Greeks, but part was also due to the more base stories lacking the philosophical nature of the Greeks. Though that hasn't precluded even the greatest of writers from stealing storylines from Plautus. Shakespeare drew Comedy of Errors strongly from Plautus.
Like most of his plays, Truculentus demonstrates Plautus's exploration of iconic characters. In fact, this show created some of the characters which have become the stock & trade of both Commedia del Arte and our modern day comedies. The arrogant soldier, the surly servant, the quick-witted strumpet all populate this earthy story of how willingly men part with their money for the illusion of the perfect woman.
Well, that's a beginning. Be sure to watch for the next installment of "All Things Banal." Thanks for playing.
(By the way the actor doesn't really wear ducks strapped to his feet. They are quail."
In between helpings that could save an entire tsunami ravaged village, I managed to begin exploration of my premo, best Christmas present, "Lost", the first season on DVD. Yes, I know I could have just watched it all last year or waited for the inevitable deluge of reruns, but this show is the equivalent of storytelling crack. I've got to have each and every episode so that the Kennedy conspiracy can look like a reasonable and sane dinner conversation.
As I found myself plumbing every nook and cranny of the first DVD like Mario looking for secret worlds, I realized that I am obsessed with useless information. What the hell does it matter that the original explosion failed to truly capture the cataclysmic arrival of the survivors to the island? Do I really care what the audition tapes were like for the cast members? Unfortunately, I found that invariably the answer is/was, yes.
Instead of self-flagellating in front of the TV for lack of a life or interactive interests, it struck me that metaphorically, I wasn't alone (in fact, I was up alone late at night jumping forward and back on the DVD like a forty year old with his first VCR and a copy of Blue Lagoon). Surely, I wasn't the only one watching to see the critical flashback of Hurley winning the lottery and wondering whether it matters that the numbers are all retired Yankee jerseys? If the hype is to be believed, the "Lost" DVD was selling like hot cakes. Which led me to an epiphany in the wee hours of the night (no I wasn't imagining a prison scene between Kate and Ana Lucia), a lot of people enjoy the excess information and background nuggets. We've all become obsessed with that one little tidbit that makes us the geekiest member of any social gathering, in which our preferred story, movie or TV series comes up. Thank you VH-1 and "Pop-Up Video".
So, what does this sleep-deprived recognition of the obvious have to do with IF (aside from a desperate need to fill a blog entry)?
Well, I'm glad you asked.
During this production of "Truculentus" I will endeavor to give you the inside scoop on the process, the people and the drama (on and off stage). No, I'm not looking to usurp the Star, but hey maybe one more person will read these meanderings in hopes of learning who wears ducks on his feet to get into character.
So, get ready you ardent miners of the trivial, here we go.
Lets start with the show itself. The play was written in 200 B.C. by a Roman named Plautus. He was known for his earthy and satirical plays that poked at socially acceptable norms of the day. For the most part, while he and a few others produced a number of plays that survive until today, the Roman playwrights have gotten short shrift versus their Greek predecessors. Some of this was due to the Romans unabashedly stealing story lines from the Greeks, but part was also due to the more base stories lacking the philosophical nature of the Greeks. Though that hasn't precluded even the greatest of writers from stealing storylines from Plautus. Shakespeare drew Comedy of Errors strongly from Plautus.
Like most of his plays, Truculentus demonstrates Plautus's exploration of iconic characters. In fact, this show created some of the characters which have become the stock & trade of both Commedia del Arte and our modern day comedies. The arrogant soldier, the surly servant, the quick-witted strumpet all populate this earthy story of how willingly men part with their money for the illusion of the perfect woman.
Well, that's a beginning. Be sure to watch for the next installment of "All Things Banal." Thanks for playing.
(By the way the actor doesn't really wear ducks strapped to his feet. They are quail."
