Showing posts with label The Leftovers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Leftovers. Show all posts

Saturday, December 30, 2017

See Ya, '17!

(sung to the tune of I Saw Her Standing There)

In Twenty Seventeen
The world turned really mean
And it seemed to me
It was way beyond repair

Oh I'll never look back and wonder
Cuz I really just don't care

Okay. I'm not a lyricist. Sue me. No, don't. In this day and age, you probably will. Plus I do care. Probably too much.

Without a full year-end review because you can find that anywhere else, I will only say that, at its worst, 2017 seemed like a sneak preview of the post-Apocalypse. Can anyone say Dystopia Now? At its best, we're still here. Get used to it. We human beings are a pretty resilient bunch, that's for sure. And we'll persevere. Because, as Ma Joad once said, "We're the people."

Instead of moaning and groaning about the past, present and future, I choose to celebrate 2017 because, guess what, it wasn't all bad. Here are some of the better things-17 in fact- that happened to me this year-personally, professionally and culturally.

PERSONALLY

Celebrated 20 year anniversary with my beautiful wife, Laurie

Turning grandpahood into an art-form, watching my grandson Sebastian graduate from high school with honors and enter college, then traveling to Denver to witness my spectacular granddaughter Aefa on stage for her theater camp performance of Hair Salon Disaster. Finally, wrapping up the year in the prettiest of bows when I discovered I am becoming a grandpa AGAIN. Yes!

PROFESSIONALLY

In 2017, I had five stage productions of my plays, a new personal best. MURDER: THE FINAL FRONTIER was performed with three separate theater companies. SONG OF THE CANYON KID finally made it onto the stage of the Mantorville Theatre Co. in Minnesota after four years of me bugging the hell out of them. They even filmed one of their shows, available on the YouTube. Take a look-see for yourself.

While I haven't completed anything new for 2017, I did combine two of my melodramas, LEGEND OF THE ROGUE and ROXANNE OF THE ISLANDS into one volume I oh-so cleverly call A DOUBLE SHOT OF HA-HA, a companion piece for the two murder mysteries called A DOUBLE SHOT OF MURDER. Next year, a third in the series called  A DOUBLE SHOT OF NO NEW IDEAS.

CULTURALLY

My birthday movie this year was LA LA LAND that I took in at a sweet little neighborhood cinema in Portland called the Moreland. I enjoyed the film (with reservations) but it was more about the experience, a treat I gave myself. Recently I took in THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MO., another fine film with which I have some issues, although it was an afternoon well worth spending playing with the reclining seats.

Way too much good TV (it's getting to be a dangerous obsession) with my very favorite being TABOO with my fave rave Tom Hardy. I'll also include the hoot known as FEUD, BETTER THINGS with my girlfriend Pamela Adlon, THE LEFTOVERS with my other gal pal Ann Dowd, MINDHUNTERS, GODLESS w/Jeff Daniels and oh so many more that I'll have to enter them below.

The best all around season in recent memory for DOCTOR WHO was a fitting send-off for both Dr. 13 Peter Capaldi and show-runner Steven Moffat. Whiny geeks have been bitching about Moffat for eons. Now they can complain about everything else. And they will. Trust me. Moffat was my entry drug into this show and I will be eternally grateful.

Peter Morgan's writing on THE CROWN gives me a reason to live.

Another Morgan, Jeffrey Dean to be exact, is the finest villain in recent memory as THE WALKING DEAD's Negan. Whatever shortcoming the show has lately, JDM is crushing it each and every time he appears. And I tire of the death knell the former fans are ringing for this show. Shut up. Move on. Get another show. Hate watching is for morons.

After a terrible personal tragedy, Patton Oswalt rebounded with his hilarious and moving Netflix stand-up special, ANNIHILATION.

With a year that included both Paul Auster's 4321 and Michael Chabon's MOONGLOW, the finest fiction I read this year had to be Francine Prose's MISTER MONKEY, a multi-character comic tale revolving around a children's theater performance. It warmed my heart like no other.

Non-fiction wise, the hands down winner was Kliph Nesroff's superb history of stand up comedy THE COMEDIANS.

Some nice tunes this year with local favorite Portugal the Man's catchy ditty I FEEL IT STILL a good listen as well as Awol Nation's WOMAN WOMAN. If I have to be honest, I have to go with The Revivalists' WISH I KNEW YOU as my pick o' the year. It had a good beat and I could dance to it. Plus the nostalgic paigns of new love in an older life hits me in the sweet spot.

A monumental day at the Denver Art Museum for their incredible exhibition ONCE UPON A TIME...THE WESTERN: A NEW FRONTIER IN ART AND FILM. I was in hog heaven. (I just rejoined the the Portland Art Museum, so expect see some kudos going that-away next year)

Nothing compares to the restaurant experience-food, service, ambience- at the New Orleans' style bistro ACADIA in Portland. I'm still salivating over that meal.

I have been searching for a perfect every day beer for years now and I found it this year. Silver Moon Brewery of Bend, Oregon gave the world-and me, in particular-this fine beverage. Chapter 2 Casual Ale. it is what I will consume come midnight on New Year's.

Finally, my good friend and benefactor Melanie Roady, formerly of Mel O' Drama Theater, gifted me with the original latex head of Francois Fibian from the original production of THE PERILS OF FRANCOIS (now known as DEAD TUESDAY) Created by master mask maker David Knezz, he is true work of art and I'm proud to own him for more reasons than one. Francois sits above my front door, reminding of me who I am and what I can do. Now all I have to do...is do it.

That's what 2018 is all about. Let's do it, people. Otherwise, we have to blame no one but ourselves. Time's a-wastin' and waits for no man, woman or child. The only thing you have to lose is yourself-and that's the whole ballgame.

Happy New Year, I mean it. Let's reboot and start 2018 on, if not a positive, at least a willing note. It's time we took back our lives. We either surrendered or cowered in fear when the Empire struck back and snatched it away. We have to fight back. Our very survival-physically, mentally, morally- depends on it.

Bring on the 2018.
Full steam ahead.
Fire in the hole, kids.
Bon jour, 2018! Laissez les bon temps rouler!












  

Sunday, October 22, 2017

Leftovers and Then Some

As it rains Bengal tigers and Great Danes on this mid autumn Oregonian evening, I have some catching up to do. If I were to say "Here goes nothing", you have every right to turn this off right now. Instead, I'll press on like a cheap fake fingernail.

Not since Twin Peaks has there been a TV series right up Cherney alley like HBO's The Leftovers. I got hooked on this during a late summer vacay to Denver, though I only caught the first season, but this damn thing haunted me from the moment I feasted my eyes and brains upon it. Based on Tom Perotta's novel, this odd duck of a program about the aftermath of what could or could not have been The Rapture is everything I want in a show and more. At turns weird, dramatic, satirical, touching, maddening, funny, brutal, confusing and most of all melancholy, The Leftovers owes its success in my eyes to not several people. Naturally it begins with Perotta's source material, but enough cannot be said for the Herculean efforts of showrunner Damon Lindelof. The cast is absolutely magnificent with not a sour apple in the whole crazy bunch-Justin Theroux, Carrie Coon, Amy Brennerman, my new girlfriend Ann Dowd and a career topping performance by Scott Glenn. I fell so madly in love with this, I headed to my nearest library for season two as soon as I returned from Colorado, then got HBO for a month for the grand fiinale. Totally worth it.

I've had a hankerin' (no g required) for some New Orleans fare for many a year. I don't know if I'll ever get
to that part of the world, but I've craved some of the delectable cuisine to the point that I considered running away with the circus until Ringling Brothers went out of business and Cirque du Soleil said "Non!" Anyway, I got my wish when my stepson Matt treated my wife and I to an evening at Acadia, a New Orleans bistro here in Portland. Oh cher, this was some good eatin' (again, sans g).

The barbecue shrimp starter about did me in as I dipped my bread in its devious broth of butter, pepper, lemon and white wine, filling me to the point that I was almost too stuffed for the entree. But I roughed it with an amazing jambalaya. My wife went for a soft shell blue crab and crawfish etoufee while Matt dug into a nice fat pork chop that would choke your mama if she had trouble chewin'. (no g spot here neither) Dessert was a bread pudding from heaven with a sauce to die for which justified the heaven reference. Top this off with some delicious (and potent) bar beverages and four star customer service, Acadia gave us the best dining experience in years.

I had the good fortune of having yet another theater group tackle one of my scripts, Murder: The Final Frontier. The Brickstreet Players of Clovis, New Mexico came in right after Song of the Canyon Kid closed in Minnesota to announce their desire to produce said murder mystery this October, making it the second production of this show this year. And it went right back to its roots as a Halloween offering. So thank you to Brickstreet as well as the Mantorville Theatre Company, San Luis Valley Theater Company and Sugar High Theatricals for a great year.

That's four shows in four different states. This is like the Electoral College. I could get elected this way.