Well, dear readers, the intensity of the next three days is going to be intense and then I shall eat turkey. But first, the intense intensity. Well, not quite, as the intense intensity doesn’t really begin until this afternoon. Right now, for example, I’m still feeling quite relaxed as I write these here notes. That is because I had quite a relaxing yesterday. For example, I got up. That was relaxing. I then puttered around the home environment whilst admiring my feet. My feet are quite comely and I occasionally admire them from afar. I’ve been thinking about writing a non-fiction book entitled My Comely Feet about that very subject – I think people would find it fascinating, don’t you? Of course, since the book would be about my nice feet, one could also call it No Mean Feet. You know, if anyone has a clew as to what the HELL I’m talking about, do feel free to chime in at any time. Where was I? Oh, yes, my relaxing yesterday. As I previously uttered, I puttered. After puttering, I watched a motion picture on DVD entitled The Drowning Pool, starring Mr. Paul Newman, playing Lew Harper, which he’d previously played in Harper. Everything that worked in Harper is completely absent in The Drowning Pool. The screenplay is witless, confusing, and, at times, incoherent, unlike, say, the novel it’s based on, The Drowning Pool by Ross Macdonald. The first disastrous move the writers made was relocating the story from Los Angeles to Louisiana. That setting just saps the life out of the film from the first frame to the last. William Goldman, who wrote Harper, loved the source novel (The Moving Target) by Macdonald, was respectful to it at all times, and was true to it despite adding his own touches. The writers of The Drowning Pool didn’t know from respect, didn’t trust Mr. Macdonald’s excellent book and therefore failed miserably. The direction by Stuart Rosenberg is dull as dishwater, and the photography by Gordon Willis is Gordon Willis at his most clichéd – everything so dark that you can barely see what’s going on, and you never even see Mr. Newman’s blue eyes. The transfer is, however, much better than Harper in terms of its colors, which are very accurate, unlike Harper’s ridiculous brown hue. Want to see correct skin tones, watch The Drowning Pool. Want to see a good movie, watch Harper. Want to see a perfect color transfer with perfect everything, watch The Wreck Of The Mary Deare, starring Gary Cooper, which I’ll be talking about in tomorrow’s notes.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Don’t I have feet to admire? Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because soon the intense intensity will be upon us.
This morning I have a few things to attend to (like doing an interview about The Brain), and then, at two, I pick up our newly arrived actress, Miss Merrill Grant and we shall be on our way to rehearsal. Last night, I supped with Miss Grant and she is delightfully delightful, cute as a button, and I think she’s going to be wonderful in the show.
We’ll teach her all her blocking and movement from two-thirty to six-thirty, and then we’ll do a run-through of the entire show – a little trial by fire, but we’ll have the stage manager shadowing her in case she forgets things. We’ll continue to drill on Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons, whilst doing run-throughs each evening.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, jog, do errands, have a rehearsal, and do a run-through. Today’s topic of discussion: What was the first professional production you saw of a play and musical? Where was it, who was in it, and what did you think of it? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst we all admire my comely feet.