Friday, April 19, 2013

Why Bobby Keniston Writes for Younger Audiences: Bobby Keniston Interviews Bobby Keniston

A new House Seal made for me by my student, Claire Hamlin
Note:  Theater is a Sport is in no way affiliated with HBO or "Game of Thrones" (fine as the show may be)
At long last, Bobby Keniston, me, yours truly, is getting back to Theater is a Sport, and I would like to welcome you all for tuning in after my long absence.  It will be explained shortly.

I would like to get back to basics here at Theater is a Sport, just as I am trying to get back to basics in my own life.  Which is why this issue is dedicated to a question I am asked quite frequently:

"Bobby, why are you so handsome?"

Wait, that's not it (although I am asked that question quite frequently). 

"Bobby, why do you write plays for children and young adult audiences?"

Ah, there's the question.  And it is often approached delicately, as though it were a taboo subject. 

It's not.

I will, however, answer this question, and some others, in a way I find most comfortable.  So, yes, Bobby Keniston is going to interview himself again.

BOBBY KENISTON INTERVIEWER:  Bobby!  So goood to see you again!

BOBBY KENISTON:  It's always a pleasure.  You're looking well.

BKI:  Thanks!  So are you!

BOBBY KENISTON:  I've been trying to get in shape, improve my overall fitness.  I'm playing the role of "Prez" in The Pajama Game at Lakewood Theater this summer.  I want to look like a ladies man. 

BKI: That sounds like fun!  So, Bobby, I think the question on everybody's mind first and foremost is what's up with the long hiatus from "Theater is a Sport"?  It's been about 10 days!

BK:  I know, I know, and I feel awful about that.  I've been on vacation from teaching this week, but, vacation, for me, is still work time.  I have been writing a great deal to get some submissions into different publishers while there's still time for them to be accepted and make it into the fall catalogues.  So that has taken a good deal of my creative energy.  Also, my mother has been a bit under the weather this week...

BKI: Oh no!

BK:  It's okay, she's doing much better now. 

BKI:  That's good to hear.  So, from what I understand, you would like to talk a little bit about why you write for younger audiences, is that right?

BK:  That's right.

BKI:  All right.  Well, let me start by asking you a few questions.  What was the first play for younger audiences you wrote.

BK:  That would be Rumplestilskin the R-Dawg, Hip-Hop Minstrel.  I was only a few years out of college, and I was hired to direct a middle school play.  I decided to write it as well, so I could tailor it to the kids I had auditioning.  It turned out to be pretty good, if I do say so myself. 

BKI:  I'm guessing it is a much different play than the plays you wrote in college though.

BK:  That would be a correct guess.  I didn't write children or young adult plays when I was in college.

BKI:  Why not?

BK:  In all honest, I don't know.  I suppose at the time, and remember, I was young, I was trying to explore different aspects of myself.  Aspects that required naughty language and adult situations. 

BKI:  Is that the only reason?

BK:  In all honest, no.  It's not.  To be completely frank about it, I probably would have considered writing that type of play as "lightweight" when I was in college.  Not "serious" or "important" enough. 

BKI:  I see.  Do you still feel that way?

BK:  Not at all.  Remember, I was young.  I am older and a bit wiser now.  And I understand that writing for the youth and high school markets is very challenging, and also of utmost IMPORTANCE. 

BKI:  Why is it important?

BK:  Because youth and high school theater is the training grounds for young people who then may go on and pursue a life in the theater.  It is also where many people actually fall in love with the process for the first time.  It makes me very happy to think that some kid or teenager I never meet may be inspired to be an actor or a playwright because they fell in love with theater from being in one of my plays.  That very idea keeps me warm on cold days.  Keeps me writing on slow days.  Keeps me smiling on sad days. 

BKI:  Do you ever feel that your career in this field is keeping you from living up to your potential as a "serious writer"?

BK:  I do not.  Not anymore.  I've struggled with that idea, but I have won the struggle.  I think some people may believe that Iam not living up to my potential, but I don't see that as the case.  I am proud of my work. As I said, I think it is important, and there's no reason to defend it because it doesn't need defending.  I am a serious writer.  I work very hard at what I do.  And besides, I still write so-called "grown up" plays.  I just happen to write many more plays for children and high school students.  I like the market.  It's challenging.  And there happens to be a lot of space for a voice like mine, thankfully, and people seem to like my stuff.  That's always important. 

Here's an example of something I feel is important about the plays I write:  my play, Confession:  Kafka in High School is a play that attempts to take the questions that Kafka poses in The Trial and make them accessible and relatable to high school students.  I like to think that maybe some kids have been in that play and then been interested enough to go out and read some Kafka.  I think that's a pretty good legacy.  It might even inspire them to write their own absurd or existential stories, who knows?

BKI:  Do you hear a lot form kids and teenagers who have been in your plays?

BK:  Every now and again, and it is always exciting.  I heard from a girl in Australia recently who was working on a monologue I wrote called Falling (And Not Getting Up).  I've also developed online friendships with community theater actors who have been in my plays.  And about a month ago, I received a very nice e-mail from a student who was writing a report on my play How I Learned to Stop Being Afraid of My Gym Teacher.  That was very cool.  I wouldn't trade it for anything.

BKI:  Well, I think I speak for everyone reading this when I say that we all hope you won't be taking any more long breaks from Theater is a Sport, and it is very good to have you back. 

BK:  Thanks so much!

BKI:  Anything else before we sign off.

BK:  Sure.  If people would like to learn more about me or Theater is a Sport, they can follow this link:  https://www.facebook.com/messages/#!/TheaterIsASport.  If people want to learn more about my plays, they can go to www.brookpub.com, www.histage.com, www.hitplays.com, and www.playscripts.com and search for my name, read about my plays, take a look at a free preview or two, what have you. 

BKI:  Cool!  Anything else?

BK:  Yes!  My father, who is a very talented poet, has started a blog where he shares his poems with the world.  I'd like to give him a shout-out!  If you're interested in checking out my Dad's poems, follow this link:  http://www.azwosbiscuits.blogspot.com/

BKI:  Thank you, Bobby for taking the time to talk with us tonight.

BK:  My pleasure.  And remember:  theater is not just a craft or an artform.  Theater is a sport.  Good night.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

ARE GYM TEACHERS CRAZY SCARY FOR SELF-PROCLAIMED GEEKS?: The Inspiration for Writing My Hit Play, "How I Learned To Stop Being Afraid of My Gym Teacher"

CLICK HERE TO ORDER THIS PLAY!
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and I will be your host this evening at Theater is a Sport.  I am a drama teacher at Foxcroft Academy, and a published with playwright with 21 titles for the youth, high school and community theater markets.  I hope you feel at home at my blog if you are a theatre-lover or a drama geek.  I am both of these things, and I mean the terms in a good way. 

From time to time, I like to share a little bit about the plays I write.  This is not for self-aggrandizing, although it is nice to toot your own horn once in a while (it's good for the self-confidence).  The real reason I like to share a bit about how certain plays were written and published is because I, as a writer, love to read about how writers write what they have written, their process, their thoughts while writing, etc.  I find it educational and pretty encouraging for my own work, so, I figure I will offer the same thing for anyone out there who might be interested in how and why I write what I write, and how I went about getting it published.  At the very least, I hope you find it interesting, or, if not, that at the very VERY least, it might give you some hope knowing that if a guy like me can get his work out there, that you can too with a little patience and hard work. 

How I Learned to Stop Being Afraid of My Gym Teacher was the eighth play (if I remember correctly) I was fortunate to have published, and my very first with Eldridge.  Like all of my plays, I have difficulty pinpointing the exact moment that the inspiration hit me.  I knew I wanted to write something that was about "geeks".  In fact, the "geeks" in this play use the term in an empowering fashion.  I also knew I wanted to address the issue of bullying, but not in a preachy way, and to explore the idea of an adult bully as well. 

Then one night, as I sat down to write, I just wrote out the sentence, "How I Learned to Stop Being Afraid of My Gym Teacher."  It made me smile.  And I thought of a young man who was afraid of gym class.

I should jump in right here and tell you that I never had a cruel gym teacher.  I was lucky.  In elementary school, my gym teacher was very kind, in middle school, my gym teacher was very fair and nice to me, and in high school, my gym teacher was actually very encouraging to someone like me who was not, shall we say, a natual athlete (except when it came to volleyball, interestingly enough). 

Having said this, I think I should now point out that I was afraid of gym class, however.  As I said, I was not a natural athlete, I didn't immediately take to sports.  I wasn't plain awful, per se, but it took me time to get my bearings, and I often felt embarrassed and a little useless in my gym classes.  And yes, there boys who were much better than I was who would pick on me.  I can't say I was terribly "bullied" because many people have gotten it much worse than I have, but I did often feel like dirt, which made me wish I could just skip out on gym class for the rest of my life. 

In any case, the protagonist of How I Learned to Stop Being Afraid of My Gym Teacher, a young man named Will, was based off of me to some extent.  He is a good student, a friendly personality, who happens to be afraid of going to gym class.  Will, of course, has an extra reason:  the formidable gym teacher, Mr. Breakwater, who, in his last year of teaching, is just as ferocious as he was when he first started.  Mr. Breakwater hates weakness and hates excuses.  He also appears to hate Will. 

Lucky for Will, he has a girl in his gym class named Riley who is always there to help him out (and, she's cute, too!).  He also has two wonderful friends named Ellard and Margie, who help him get through the day.  It is his friend Ellard who calls them "The Geek Squad", as though they were superheroes (Ellard and Margie are also a bit obsessed with Star Wars, which plays a part in another play they appear in). 

Will's father had Mr. Breakwater for a gym teacher, and is still traumatized about it.  In fact, upon hearing Mr. Breakwater's name, he has to go and hide in the bathtub.  Thus, Will's mother decides to talk to Mrs. Puffin, the soap-opera addicted principal, but doesn't really get anywhere with it.  You see, Mrs. Puffin happens to think Mr. Breakwater is the bees knees (she likes his "buns of steel"). 

Will eventually finds help from his older sister, who had found a way to deal with Mr. Breakwater when she was in school.  She shares a secret with him that holds the key to taming the beast.  But what is most impressive, I think, is how Will decides to handle this secret.

I am fond of this play and actually remember having a great amount of fun writing it.  The first few scenes flew out of me rather quickly.  I do remember I became a little stuck about midway through the writing, thinking to myself, "how is Will going to give Mr. Breakwater his comeuppance?"  It was at that point that I thought about giving Will an older sister who was in college, and who  knew some things about the harsh gym teacher. 

If I were to pick a play of mine that is my funniest, this one would probably be it.  Aside from the characters I have already mentioned, there is also a child psychiatrist named Dr. Brattigan who I had such a good time writing--- she is a stitch and a half, loves to play Jenga, and is probably much better at her job than she lets on.  There are also the characters of Alexis ( a lip gloss covered texting fiend) who Will misguidedly has a crush on, and Marco, a flat-out bully, who leads a Jock Chorus in his attacks against Will during gym class.  Both Alexis and Marco also show up in another play as well. 

After I figured out that Will had an older sister who would be able to help him out, the rest of the play came together rather quickly.  I would say the total writing time for the first draft was about two weeks.  I then read it out loud with a group of people who were doing a grown up play I had written, and hearing it out loud confirmed that I had a winner, even though it needed some adjustments.

That may sound egocentric, what I just said, but I don't mean it to be.  Every once in a great while in your life as a writer, there are some pieces that you know are winners.  They have a certain feeling about them--- for one thing, they read well, actors can jump right in and bring it to life pretty easily. 

I think what tipped me off the most is that my goal to make the play really funny, but have a semi-serious, poignant ending, really worked out well.  It felt like a satisfying conclusion.  I was very proud of it. 

I decided to send it to Eldridge because I was, and am, a big fan of Eldridge's catalogue.  My dad was a drama director as I was growing up, so I remembered always flipping through the Eldridge catalogue when I was kid.  Playwrights seemed like some magic far away beings back then (when, in fact, we're actually pretty darn accessible).  I had submitted to Eldridge twice before and been rejected, albeit with kind, constructive notes from real people, and not just a form.  I figured I would give Gym Teacher a go with them.  So, I once again followed their submission guidelines, wrote a little cover-letter e-mail with my bio and a paragraph synopsis of the play, attached the play as a word document, wished myself luck and sent it off.

IN LESS THAN 24 HOURS, THEY E-MAILED ME BACK TO MAKE AN OFFER ON THE PLAY

This was, and still is, the fastest turnaround I have ever had for a play being accepted for publication.  The title caught their eye, they read it, liked it, and made an offer.  I signed the contracts, wrote up some stuff for them, and, before you knew it, How I Learned to Stop Being Afraid of My Gym Teacher was an Eldridge play by Bobby Keniston, and my name was next to some of the all time big writers in my field (Tim Kelly, Craig Sodaro, Pat Cook, etc.)  It was a very exciting and gratifying experience for me.

The play has done well.  It holds the record so far for highest number of productions in a single year.  I have also received some very nice fan e-mails from students, which is always rewarding.  I got an especially nice one from a student in a drama class who had to read a play and write a report about it, and he chose mine.  This young person was so complimentary about the play, and what it meant to him, that I misted up a bit when I read his message. 

Again, not trying to toot my own horn, but if you're looking for a proven winner one-act for your school or community theater, I do recommend How I Learned to Stop Being Afraid of My Gym Teacher--- it's very easy to stage, has flexible casting with doubling possible, and very funny and touching.  And if you do produce it and like it, please let me know.

Thanks for reading about my play.  I hope you are all happy, healthy, and full of the sport that theater is. 

This is Bobby Keniston, saying good night until next time.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

How to Write a Play or How to Enjoy Repeatedly Banging Your Head Against the Wall, Lesson 9: Who Are We Writing For?

Mr. Kurt Vonnegut, a hero of mine, and someone who wrote for only one person
Hello ladies and gentlemen.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and I will be your host on this blog.  It's Tuesday here at Theater is a Sport, so those who follow my blogs know what that means...

TIME FOR ANOTHER PLAYWRITING LESSON!

Tonight's advice is actually for any writer, whether it be for plays, stories, novels, poems, songs, or anything else you put pen to paper to create. 

Today, I was going through some of my earlier published plays looking for quotes to use for a new promotion that Brooklyn Publishers is doing on their website.  I noticed how as I went through some of these older plays, line by line, that I really ejoyed them.  I realized as I was reading them that, while I was writing them, I either didn't have a playwriting "career" yet, or, it was so new and fresh, that there were no worries about how it was doing.  I was writing with a kind of freedom of someone embarking on a new adventure in their life, which, in truth is what I was.  I also realized as I looked over these older plays, that I was writing for one person and one person alone.

My Ideal Reader. 

Those of you familiar with Stephen King's book On Writing (I like Stephen King--- he's a fellow Maine boy), know that he talks a great deal about his Ideal Reader, who happens to be his wife, Tabitha.  Kurt Vonnegut, who I think of as one of the most creative modern American novelists, also wrote for only one person--- his sister.  And he continued to write for her even after she died.  He thought of her as his twin, even though they were not twins. 

There are great benefits to having an Ideal Reader, and I recommend it, even though it is NOT necessary to have one to be a successful writer.  Some of the benefits are pretty obvious--- someone to read your first draft, someone who knows you well and knows what you want to accomplish.  They are a great indicator of how well you are handling the wheel. 

But there's more to it than that.

Vonnegut himself mentioned the idea that if you are writing for the masses, if you arre writing for vast appeal and acceptance, it can wear you out, keep your head spinning, take you completely off the map.  In this regard, having one Ideal Reader can keep you get focused... after all, now all you're trying to do is please one person, make one person laugh.  You are now only performing for an audience of one, and can direct all that energy into that job, which is much easier than trying to please everyone under the sun or snow or rain.

Perhaps the biggest advantage of having an Ideal Reader is that, presumably, since it is someone you love, this love will shine through in the writing, even if it is tough subject matter.  In this mode, writing becomes a kind of gift that you are sharing, a gift that comes from within your mind, heart and soul.  And it is also giving a gift to yourself as a writer, the act of creating something you love so deeply for someone you love so deeply.

As I was reading over these older plays, I could remember in the act of writing them imagining my Ideal Reader reading them for the first time, the laughs they might evoke, the parts that make my IR cry.... it was such an important inspiration for me to have this person to write for.  It made the early productivity of my publishing career possible.  I can never be grateful enough for Ideal Reader for this help and encouragement.  I look at it now and I truly remember my mindset when writing:  I literally wanted to impress my Ideal Reader and wanted this person to be proud of me.  That is what drove me to keep going.  And I was lucky that my Ideal Reader is so universal that so many other people seem to really like my plays, too.  (Which is a relief). 

Now don't get me wrong--- I also write to please my audience, and I also try to write work that I think will sell and make others happy, but that first draft is always for my reliable I.R.  A "look what I made this time!" mentality, that makes the whole creative process less painful for me.

Again, don't freak out if you don't have an Ideal Reader.  You'll know when you meet them.  They are a person who can be honest without being crushing, who has the same kind of aesthetic sensibilities as you do, someone who, quite frankly, gets you and what you are trying to do.  Who better to let you know if they think you've achieved it or not.  And there's nothing like seeing the smile on your Ideal Reader's face when they are proud of you.

Okay, maybe this is a light weight post, but I don't care.  I'm just being honest.  I was just struck by how much easier those I.R. inspired early plays were to write than some others.  It's kind of amazing what it can do for you. 

I thank you for reading my post tonight, and I wish you all the best as you continue to work on writing your plays.  Don't give up.  Keep moving forward with dialogue, and work towards completion.  You'll be glad you did.

Until next time, you can learn more about me from the links below, and remember:  theater is not just a craft or artform--- it is also a sport.

http://www.brookpub.com/default.aspx?pg=ab&afn=Bobby&aln=Keniston

http://www.histage.com/author/authorinfo.asp?AuthorID=528

http://www.playscripts.com/author.php3?authorid=1113

http://www.hitplays.com/default.aspx?pg=ab&afn=Bobby&aln=Keniston

https://www.facebook.com/#!/TheaterIsASport

https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Bobby-Keniston-Playwright-Page/148232788536601

Sunday, April 7, 2013

The Top Ten Most Important American Plays: A Futile (But Fun) Endeavor

Greetings, ladies and gentlemen.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and I'd like to welcome you to Theater is a Sport.  What once started out as a daily blog, has, unfortunately, become more of a "every other day or so" blog, but it is still my little writing on the vast wall of the internet, and I enjoy it very much.  I hope you will, too.

Just for kicks, I recently Googled "Top Ten American Plays", and the very first result I got was an article from the Denver Post in 2010 called "The 10 Most Important Amercan Plays".  The article admits it gathered its results from an informal survey of theatre professionals.  Their results were as follows:

1.  Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller
2.  Angels in America by Tony Kushner
3.  A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams
4.  Long Day's Journey Into Night by Eugene O'Neill
5.  Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? by Edward Albee
6.  Our Town by Thornton Wilder
7.  The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams
8.  A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry
9.  The Crucible by Arthur Miller
10.  Fences by August Wilson

If you would like to read more about the way this list was determined, here's the link to the article:  http://www.denverpost.com/ci_14385361

If you want to wait and read the rest of what I have to say first, that's cool, too. 

So...

I'm not going to lie--- it's an impressive list of plays, no doubt about it.  However, as I looked at it, I couldn't help but feel there were some glaring gaps, which made me question what the word "important" means to the people who were surveyed.  

For example:  are there no important American comedies?  Really?  Kaufman and Hart were just hacks because they tried to make us laugh?  The Man Who Came To Dinner is just a piece of fluff, even though it has been an inspiration to just about every future comedic playwright? 

Speaking of comedies, is it TRULY fair to disregard one of America's most financially and crowd-pleasing playwrights of all-time?  Of course I'm talking about Neil Simon, who, more than once in his career, had multiple hit plays running on Broadway at the same time.  Now, I suppose the argument might be that "commercial" success does not mean that a writer is "important".  I can buy that.  But, to be honest, Mr. Simon has justifiably become a part of the Broadway culture, not only from a fiscal standpoint, but also in terms of what it means to be a "lauded" playwright.  He's won three Tonys, a Pulitzer, and was awarded the Mark Twain Award.  Not to metion that his autobiography Rewrites should be required reading for anyone thinking about becoming a writer. 

Another glaring absence I was struck by was the absence of musicals.  Granted, the title says most important American plays, but, when reading the article, many of the people voting did mention how certain musicals would probably be recognized in years to come, so I figured that opened the door for me to talk about them.  Carousel is a great American musical, adapted from the play Lilliom by Molnar (who was very happy with the adaptation).  Not to mention the few musicals that have won the Pulitzer Prize, like How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying (of course, this has a double whammy against it--- musical and comedy), Sunday in the Park With George, A Chorus Line, and Next To Normal (the most recent musical to win the coveted award), just to name 4 of the 8 musicals that have won. 

Gosh, "important" is such a tricky word.

I think what shocked me the most was the fact that only one woman was represented on the list, Lorraine Hansberry for A Raisin in the Sun.  Perhaps a good number of people will say that the great female playwrights are still too young to be included, we need to see if they'll stand the test of time.  Try saying that to Lillian Hellman, Gertrude Stein, Marsha Norman... all, who, I think, have done well hanging around.  Same with Paula Vogel, Pulitzer winner for How I Learned to Drive, a brutal yet human play about incest, or Suzan Lori-Parks, author of wonderful plays like Venus and Topdog/Underdog, another Pulitzer Winner (Ms. Lori-Parks is also a MacArthur Genius Grant recipient). 

Yes, I can understand avoiding more modern plays for the list, I can, really, even pretty good ones like August:  Osage County by Tracy Letts or Doubt, American Buffalo, etc., etc.

Etc., Etc.

However, it became less of a forgivable mistake when you look at the playwrights who are doubled on the list.  No one is going to say that Arthur Miller is not a great American writer.  He is.  But so was Clifford Odets, and where the hell was he on the list (even though his movement with the Group Theatre really changed the way theatre was perceived).  Yes, Miller is great, and even other plays of his could have been on the list, particularly A View from the Bridge.  But a list like this is too short for people to be repeated.  

Yet I forgive the two by Miller more than the ones by Williams.  I can deal with A Streetcar Named Desire, in fact, I even agree with it.  It's a searing drama by a passionate writer.  But I would argue that there are HUNDREDS of plays that deserve to be on this list more than The Glass Menagerie, a slightly annoying memory play with a character it is difficult to root for because she doesn't do a damn thing to help herself. 

And yeah, I would call The Skin of Our Teeth Thornton Wilder's masterpiece, but I suppose I'm in the minority on that one... Our Town has become a staple of community theatres that play it as a simple Americana drama as opposed to the satire it really is. 

So, I'm going to put myself on the line and make my own list.  It is a futile endeavor, and one that I probably won't even be completely satisfied with, but I will do it anyway, and I will try to explain my choices.  Please feel free to leave comments telling me what glaring mistakes I have made.  I won't mind. 

1.  Awake and Sing by Clifford Odets, because he took the family drama to new, naturalistic heights in his attempts for realism on stage.
2.  Long Day's Journey Into Night, another family drama so passionate and personal that O'neill didn't even want it produced until he had been dead twenty years.
3.  The Crucible, by Arthur Miller.  I choose this over Salesman, even though Salesman is Greek Tragedy for the working man, because it is important for Americans to see how we repeat ourselves with our witch hunts and hysteria.
4.  The Zoo Story by Edward Albee, more than Virginia Woolf, because Virginia Woolf, while brilliant, in the end proves that the greatest "truth" we've been following was actually an illusion, while The Zoo Story, in about one hour, captures the desperation and exile of the American transient, aching with loneliness and a desire to connect in a city where connection feels damn near impossible.
5.  Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Mamma's Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feeling So Sad, because it is the wild work of a young man, Arthur Kopit, bringing the absurdism and tragicomedy of the French to an American viewpoint.  Not to mention its send-up of sex, class, motherhood, and so much more.  Most shockingly, it delivers a message how people will often choose oppression over freedom if given the choice, a wonderful message for the decade in which it was written (the 1960s)
6.  Joe Turner's Come and Gone, by August Wilson.  I prefer this to Fences for the passion and the grand epiphany at the end.
7.  How I Learned to Drive, because it tackles a heartbreaking subject in such a human, but theatrical manner.  Vogel also has a gift for dialogue and creating characters who are relatable.
8.  Burn This, by Lanford Wilson.  Wilson never wanted to be known for writing "gay plays" but plays about human beings.  Burn This is just that.  Love this play.  Love it, love it, love it.
9.  The Odd Couple, by Neil Simon.  While this is not my personal favorite of Simon's (that would be one of his darker comedies), I consider it an important American play because it went way beyond the wildest notion of success for a playwright.  It permeated the culture, even with the term "odd couple".  I will also add that within this play, Simon truly begins to show he is a writer who can derive humor from characters with humanity, and not just from one-liners.  It is an important play in his growth as a writer.
10.  I have to go with Next To Normal, book and lyrics by Brian Yorkey and music by Tom Kitt.  I had the pleasure of seeing this on Broadway at the Booth Theater with the original cast (although J. Robert Spencer's understudy was on the night I saw it, but he was amazing, too).  We return to the family drama, only, this time, it is a modern twist, somewhat relatable to O'Neill, but, instead of addiction, it tackles mental illness and its effect on a family.  Brave, daring, with a rocking score and a tight script, Next To Normal has perhaps, for me anyway, set a standard for musical theatre that will  be very difficult to live up to.

Okay, there's my list.  Again, feel free to tell me how wrong I am in the comments. 

In the meantime, thanks for checking it out, and I hope you come back to my blog, because... well... theater is a sport, and why not celebrate that?

https://www.facebook.com/#!/TheaterIsASport
https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Bobby-Keniston-Playwright-Page/148232788536601
http://www.doollee.com/PlaywrightsK/keniston-bobby.html

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Why Don't They Want Me?: Bobby Keniston Talks About the Pain of Rejection

Yes, Rejection is Heartbreaking
Greetings to all of you out there, and welcome to Theater is a Sport.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and I will be communicating my thoughts to you through your computer screen.  If you like, imagine that we're sitting down over a cup of coffee or chicken broth, just shooting the breeze about theater.  Why not?  We're all personable people here, right?

Tonight I'm going to talk about rejection, particularly in terms of student and community theater, for actors, writers, and anybody who has ever been rejected.

Rejection sucks.  There you go.  I won't sugar coat it.  It's not fun.  People, by and large, will prefer acceptance over rejection any day of the week.  I think it has something to do with the whole "being a part of the human race" thing. 

Any time you audition for a school or community theater production, or, any time you submit a script, or portfolio of your designs or any other such creative endeavor, you are taking the risk of being turned down.  It's as simple as that.  Perhaps this is a part of what Fehrlingetti is talking about with "constantly risking absurdity". 

Make no mistake--- all creative endeavors are a risk, and you are going to win some and you are going to lose some (pardon the cliche, but it's true).  Even I, a veteran of over sixty plays, do not always get the parts that I want. 

There is a very small percentage of the human race who lets rejection roll off their back without too much thought about it, and are eager to go out and try again.  There is a much larger percentage of the population who SAYS that rejection doesn't bother them, and then go home and cry, cuss and wonder why the whole damn world is against them.  I am part of the latter group myself.  And then, on the other end, there is another small percentage who, upon being rejected, tell the rejectors in no uncertain terms how ridiculously stupid they are, right to their faces, effectively lighting a match and burning a bridge. 

If you are in the same group that I am in, my advice is for you.

Okay, so you've decided to take the plunge and audition for a play or submit a play forpublication.  Congratulations!  Good for you!  It's a noble pursuit that can change your life.  You've already shown tremendous courage by making the decision to put yourself out there. 

So you've worked hard, given your best audition, or best callback, and now it's just a matter of waiting.  Try to relax.  It's not easy.  As Tom Petty said, "the waiting is the hardest part".  It's nice to know one way or another, but resist the temptation to contact the theater group before they contact you.  You don't want to bug people.  This goes for publishing houses as well (only, with them, once you wait the amount of time they specify in their submission guidelines, it is okay to drop them a friendly, albeit brief, line to inquire). 

Finally, you get the letter or e-mail from the director or casting people of your local community theater (or, of course, the cast list is posted at school).  You take a look, and the message starts out "We want to thank you so much for taking the time for auditioning.  Unfortunately, when casting a play..."  Or you scan the cast list two or three (or ten) times, and you do not find your name. 

PAIN.  CRUSHING.  PAIN. 

WHY DON'T THEY WANT ME?

It's tough with acting and writing, because they are so difficult to separate from YOU.  You the person.  For an actor, your body is your instrument.  It feels very personal, because, in effect, it is. 

Or maybe you didn't get the part you wanted.  You wanted the juicy lead, but only got a small part with 8 lines, and you know, just KNOW that you are better than that fathead who got the part (who, more likely than not, is actually a friend of yours, or, a well-established nemesis... both happen a lot at schools and community theaters). 

It's okay, in the privacy of your own home, to vent.  It's okay to cuss, cry, and say things like, "That stupid place doesn't appreciate me!  I give and I give, and they just throw me a bone every time!"  or "I'm too good for that place.  They don't even deserve me!  Their plays are all crap, anyway!"  You're a human being.  Don't beat yourself up for feeling your feelings.  Anger is a natural response to having your feelings hurt.  Truly.  I'm speaking physiologically.  In the brain, when your feelings are hurt, particularly with something you are very invested with, you chemically are geared to the part of the brain responsible for anger and jealousy, and grief.

So, again, feel your feelings. 

But do not wallow.  After a certain amount of time, and it varies from person to person, pick yourself up, look in the mirror, and give yourself a pep talk.  I do this a lot.  And remember that pain is a part of life.  Granted, not a pleasant one, but it is sometimes necessary for growth.

And remember, casting a play is based on the opinions of the person (or very few people) who are in charge of the production.  And, of course, there are always other factors beyond talent.  For example, school and community theater, females have it tougher than males, at least statistically speaking.  Women try out for theater more than men.  That's why a male who seems "less than talented" can wind up getting parts.  Directors need men.  Not fair, but it's how it is.  Then there's the matter of casting to make decent "stage pictures" and "stage families", and that is all stuff beyond your control, so don't take it to heart (I know, I know, it's easy for me to say).

Also--- there are some roles that a person just isn't right for.  I hate to admit it, because in my heart, I feel like I can play ANYTHING, and would like to play EVERYTHING.  But, I do consciously know that no director is going to cast me as the typical "leading man" type, tall dark and handsome.  I'm short.  I look like a sidekick.  And, though I would love to play the part before I shuffle off my mortal coil, not many casting folks are gonna consider me for Hamlet, unless I mount the production and cast myself.  It's not easy to come to peace with such truths, but it can be very important to do so. 

If you find that you are getting rejected far more than you are being accepted, it might behoove you to ask the group or drama teacher why.  Now, this doesn't mean approach them demandingly, saying, "Why the hell don't you ever give me a part?"  That would not bode well.  Instead, if you take it from a different angle, you might get some good advice.  "I really am interested in acting, and I want to keep growing and learning.  Do you have any tips for how I might audition better?"  Drama teachers will be happy to talk to you, of course, and a community theater director should be, too.  It's all about learning, remember that.

Unfortunately, this isn't the case for professional theater by and large, and it is not really the case for writers either.  Maybe a writer, if they submitted a play to their local community theater for consideration, could have a conversation about what works and what doesn't with the artistic director, but editors and the publishing houses are usually too swamped to give personal feedback.  However, if you find that your script keeps getting rejected, maybe you could have an old creative writing teacher, or a person involved with theater read it and offer suggestions on how you might tighten it up. 

Most of all, if theater is important to you (and it must be if you are constantly risking absurdity), then keep trying, keep growing, and keep finding ways to act or write.  You're a strong, resourceful person.  Put up your own show, go to open mics, play scenes in a classroom, take an acting class, shoot a video... whatever--- just DON'T GIVE UP. 

I guess what I'm saying is, the only rejection that is permanent is the rejection of self.  And you're too good for that. 

You are.  I mean it.  I may not know you personally, but I know that any human being is too good for that. 

So, until next time, keep the chin up, cuss and cry if you have to, but keep playing that sport I call theater.

This is Bobby Keiston saying good night.

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Tuesday, April 2, 2013

How to Write a Play or How to Enjoy Repeatedly Banging Your Head Against the Wall, Lesson 8: Let's Talk About Dialogue

Talk
Greetings everyone.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and I am your host here at Theater is a Sport.  Thank you for taking the opportunity to check out my blog.

For my regular readers, well, it's Tuesday, so you know what that means.  Yeah, that's right.  It's time for another lesson about writing a play. 

Are you excited?  You should be.  Today, we are going to talk about dialogue.

Some people say that certain writers have a "natural gift" for dialogue.  Writers as diverse as Pinter, Mamet, Salinger, and Elmore Leonard have all praised for the words they put in their characters' mouths.  "They have an ear for dialogue", people will say.

I don't know how much of that I buy.  Yes, I admit that all of those writers have written compelling dialogue, but, like anything else with writing, it is a skill that can be practiced and perfected.  You don't need to worry about the ear you were born with, but only be willing to use the ear you have now.

Dialogue in a play has only two purposes.  Ready for them?  Here they are:
1.  Dialogue to advance the audience's knowledge of the character
and
2.  Dialogue must advance the plot.

That's all.  Simple, right? 

Okay, so it's not as easy as it sounds.  One thing you want to make sure to avoid is simple ABAB dialogue, the type of dialogue that an audience knows exactly what is coming next from line to line.  For example:

A:  Hi.
B:  Hello.
A:  How's it going today?
B:  Fine. 
A:  Sure is hot.
B:  Yes.  I'm sweating.
A:  Gross.
B:  People sweat.
A:  You're right.  Sorry.
B:  No problem.

Not very fascinating, is it?  I can't imagine an audience giving their attention to these two speakers for much longer.

How do you avoid ABAB dialogue?  Shake it up a bit.  Try not to let the audience fill in the next line.  Let's take the previous scene, but shake it up a bit, shall we?

A:  Hi.
B:  It's too hot for mindless greetings.
A:  You're in a good mood.  Go change your shirt, you're sweating through it.
B:  Gotta do the laundry.
A:  Your wife making you do your own laundry now?  Good for her.
B:  I'll share your sentiment with her if I ever see or hear from her again.
A:  What?  She left you?
B:  On the hottest day of the year with a full load of laundry to do.
A:  Sorry.

Now granted, this little scene is no prize winner, but it does make an attempt to teach us about the characters and introduce a potential plot point with B's wife having left him. 

Another interesting point to keep in mind when writing dialogue:  You don't have to write like people talk, but should write how people would want to talk if they could.  In real dialogue, there are a great deal of "ummms" and "Uhs" and stumbling over words... some playwrights do fine adding this into their dialogue, but a little bit goes a long way.  Let your charactters talk, and if they talk in a way that most people believe they talk in real life, they will buy it.  (People think they talk much better than they actually do, myself included). 

I know this next piece of advice might seem a little stale, but it is very true when it comes to writing good dialogue.  In order to write good, believable dialogue, you have to KNOW YOUR CHARACTERS.   I have to stress this point again and again.  Just as in life, the more you know who you are, the more confident your personality.  The same is true for your writing.  The more you know your characters, the more confident you will be able to create them for the audience, including how they speak. 

Unless you are trying to deliberately make one or all of your characters inaccessible (and I don't know why you would want to do that), please make your dilogue understandable for most people.  There are exceptions to this rule, but these exceptions usually have brilliant tremendous payoffs because of it.  When you're starting out, try to keep things simple.

Tonight I must be brief, but I hope these few tips about dialogue are helpful to you.  In any case, keep writing and working towards completion.

Thanks for reading.  If you want to know more about me, follow the links below.  And, yes:  theater is a sport.  I should know.  I've played it all my life.

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Monday, April 1, 2013

Laugh Until You Forget Your Life Stinks: TYPES OF THEATER---What is Farce?

Still Gets a Laugh
Hello ladies and gentlemen.  Welcome to Theater is a Sport.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and I will be your host for this blog post.  I am a playwright with 21 published titles, and actor who has appeared in more than 65 plays, a director, and a theater educator.  This blog is where I like to talk about all things theater, and I welcome all drama geeks, actors, writers, directors, and theatre-lovers to check out what I have to say and offer up your own thoughts in the comments below.

A little while back, I had a post about the Theatre of the Absurd, which is one of my favorite types of theatre.  Tonight, I thought I'd talk about something a little lighter....
FARCE

Those of you who are regular theatre-goers or are involved with theatre are pretty clear what on what farce is.  I know that at the community theatre I grew up at, Lakewood Theater in Madison, Maine, the summer season always ended with a rip-roaring farce, often a "sex farce", because they were almost a sure bet to pack the house.

In fact, I have acted in a number of them. 

So what is a farce?  Let's start with a definition, shall we?

FARCE:  A comedy with exaggerated physical characterizations, abundant physical humor, and, often, an improbable plot.  (source:  SPARKed)

Pretty siimple, really.  One thing to keep in mind, that is not mentioned in the definition, is that, while they talk about improbable plots, part of this improbability is the fact that more and more complications build throughout the play, often froma catalyst moment of a simple deception, forcing the characters to construct more and more elaborate deceptions in order to cover up the initial deception, until, finally, in the resolution, the truth is revealed and our heroes are generally left unpunished for their sins (it's not too funny if they're killed or jailed, let's be honest).  Along the way, as complications mount, there most likely will be mistaken identity (many examples include men having to dress up as women), slamming doors, close calls, a big chase scene, and, in a "sex farce", people running around in their underwear.  In short, it is a night of pure escapism for the audience, and, more than likely, a huge workout for the actors on stage (theater is a sport, after all).

If you trace back the roots of farce, you will find a little something in ancient Greece called Satyr Plays, based on Greek Mythology, which had a chorus of satyrs (half-men, half-goats, like Pan), and told stories with lots of bawdy humor, sight gags (including lots of phallic props), and drunken people (remember, theater began as a festival for Dionysus, the god of wine).  Satyr Plays were one of three types of plays in Ancient Greece, along with tragedy and comedy.  Most playwrights would enter three tragedies and one satyr play to the big festivals. 

Other "classical" farces may include The Comedy of Errors by William Shakespeare (or "Good Time Willie" as Queen Elizabeth I called him*), from 1592, Tartuffe by Moliere in 1664, and Russian gems like The Inspector General by Gogol (who, in my opinion, was a better short story writer than playwright, but that's just my opinion).

Don't be fooled by the light-hearted nature of farce--- they are hard work.  The playwrights who create them, the actors who perform them, and the directors who stage them, should have a very clear and precise notion of how to bring their vision to life.  There is a great deal of energy associated with farces, but it is an energy that should, and indded, must, be focused.  Audiences go to a farce to lose themselves in the delirium.  Don't cheat them by putting on a shoddy farce that hasn't been choreographed well (and I use the term "choreographed" very deliberately). 

For example, take a look at Noises Off (seriously, take a look at it--- it's a scream) by Michael Frayn, which is arguably the best and most successful farce of the contemporary theatre.  It is produced almost non-stop, and it deserves to be.  Michael Frayn created a farce-within-a-farce that involves a group of actors trying to put on a farce called Nothin On, and everything goes wrong.  The first act is an awful dress rehearsal, where we meet the actors and other key players, a learn a little bit about the storyline of the first act of Nothing On.  Act Two is a true delight--- written almost entirely in stage directions, Frayn takes us backstage of a rough performance of Nothing On, showing us a cast that is at odds with each other.  Because they are backstage, we only hear the voices of the actors who are onstage doing the play (who are now, of course, backstage in reality).  In this act, the complications rise to boiling point with a truly wonderful last line in the act.  In this act, it is ESSENTIAL that the stage directions are choreographed to a T, with impeccable timing.  Act Three is a performance where EVERYTHING goes wrong.  Seriously.  Noises Off succeeds because of Frayn's precision, his dialogue, and his ability to make these characters relatable and sympathetic, but still allows you to laugh at their hardships.  This is a tough balancing act, which is why Mr. Frayn deserves every cent of what I'm guessing are pretty big royalties for this play. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that the words "Oh, that's good enough for a farce" should never be uttered by anyone undertaking the writing or the performing of one.  Farce is damned serious business.

Here are some other examples of popular farces from this day and age:

Run for Your Wife, Funny Money, Caught in the Net all by Ray Cooney, a premier British farce writer
Lend me a Tenor, Leading Ladies both by Ken Ludwig, a premier American farce writer
Rumors by Neil Simon (a murder mystery farce)

There are many others, of course.  I am, in fact, working on polishing a farce that I wrote as an experiment.  I hope that it turns out well.

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Thanks for stopping by.  Until next time, be well, remember that farce is damned serious business, and, of course, theater is a sport.