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May 9, 2014:

THE ROAD TO DOGPATCH

Bruce Kimmel Photograph bk's notes

Well, dear readers, when exactly did my obsession with the musical Li’l Abner begin?  Those who’ve read Kritzerland, the middle book of the Kritzer trilogy know that it began in 1959 when I saw the film on its opening day and first showing at the Wiltern Theatre.  I’d gone with my father to his restaurant, gotten my turkey sandwich to take to the movie and walked over to the Wiltern around eleven-thirty for the noon show.  As always, I visited the opulent (and I do mean opulent) downstairs men’s room, then took my tenth-row aisle seat, and ate my sandwich just before the show started.  Of course, first we had a cartoon and coming attractions, and I always made sure to finish eating before the main feature came on.  One really wasn’t supposed to bring food from the outside into a movie palace, but I knew how to sneak it in without anyone knowing.

Then the curtains opened and the Paramount logo came on followed by my favorite logo ever – VistaVision.  Now, I didn’t know anything about Li’l Abner – hadn’t read the comic strip and had really just seen the coming attraction for it the week before and really liked it.  I may have seen the cover of the Broadway cast album, but I didn’t know what it was about nor had I heard it.  The film began and I was immediately taken with the Dogpatch setting and the music – and by the end of It’s a Typical Day I knew that I was in love with the film and that didn’t change right through to the end.  I and the small crowd laughed and laughed.  Of course I, being a precocious eleven-year-old, fell hopelessly in love with Miss Leslie Parrish as Daisy Mae.  I went back the following day and the day after that.  I was so enamored of all the wacky characters and I already could sing all the songs.  At some point that week, I coerced my mother to buy me the soundtrack in stereophonic sound.  I then proceeded to play it to death, recreating the staging in our den as I sang all the parts.  Then my mother told me the horrifying story that she and a friend had gotten to visit Paramount studios and they’d seen part of the film being shot, specifically the scene with General Bullmoose and Apassionata Von Climax in which she repeatedly says “But Bullsie.”  It was just another black mark against my mother – how dare she not take her movie-obsessed son!

When I wrote Kritzerland I let fiction make that story turn out the way it should have in life – in the book, Benjamin DOES go to the studio and not only that, he meets Leslie Parrish.  If only.  At some point, I did buy the Broadway album, but I didn’t like it as much as the movie soundtrack – while I couldn’t have told you why back then, I know it was because I was so used to the Nelson Riddle film arrangements/orchestrations and I didn’t think the Broadway version’s orchestrations were as good.  Plus, Johnny Mercer had rewritten a few of the lyrics and I liked all those changes better.  Furthermore, there were a couple of songs in the play that weren’t in the film and one of them I really didn’t like – Oh, Happy Day.  I didn’t see the film for years – no home video back then, and I really don’t recall it playing on TV much, although I’m sure it did.  In the 1970s I saw it again and found the film so stage bound, although I still was in love with Miss Parrish.  Then I owned a Technicolor 16mm print of it and seeing that made me fall in love with the show all over again.  I’d also seen the show on stage at the Bluth Brothers Theater in Culver City in 1964, where it was very well done.

But the obsession really took hold about fifteen years ago, when I decided I had to direct the show.  There was a clear reason why it wasn’t ever revived – actually, several clear reasons.  When Encores did the show, they called me and asked if I’d be interested in recording it.  They sent me a CD of the show recorded live, so I could hear it.  And oh did I hate it.  Everyone was “commenting” on the material or putting quote marks around their characters and making them literal cartoons.  Sorry, do that and Abner is a failure.  The show didn’t need their condescension nor did it need their help.  It did need a director who understood the jokes.

About that time, I began to have a vision for how I’d do the show – one reason it’s not viable for revival is the cast size of fifty-four and the orchestra of twenty-six.  But I thought, I can do it with a jug band and I can cut the cast size way down.  I suggested the show repeatedly to Musical Theatre Guild here in LA via my pal Marsha Kramer, with the idea that I’d direct it.  They ultimately did it and did it without me, which I found sickening.  And from everything I heard, it simply did not work – the jokes didn’t land.  Why?  The show needs a director who understands the jokes.  Panama and Frank were two of the best comedy writers and their jokes don’t need any winking or help.  Just speak them well and voila – laughs.

Then I suggested the show to Reprise, again with the idea that I’d direct it.  Next thing I know they’re doing it, with David Lee directing.  He drops out and then it’s someone else, but not me.  And from everything I was told, it did not work – the jokes didn’t land.  Why?  The show needs a director who gets the jokes.  It was so irritating, and even more irritating was that at every opportunity, rather than blaming their productions they blamed the show itself (what else is new), saying it was hopelessly dated and no one understood any of the topical references.

I never understood that, because I never found the movie dated.  Then I finally reread the play script and indeed, there were a bunch of topical jokes that could and would never work today.  That was easily solved (not telling how).  I also had other ideas for making the show zip along a little more quickly – nothing radical, just being creative.  Finally doing the show, I found it was almost like doing a new musical.  I have been maniacal about the pace, the flow, making sure the characters are NOT cartoons – they may well be based on cartoons, but the characters themselves would never think of themselves that way, which is a key issue that seems to elude people.  As silly as Abner is, and as big as it has to be played, for the CHARACTERS it has to be real – you have to root for Abner and Daisy and you have to absolutely LOVE Abner.  When you cast actors who don’t get who Abner is, then there’s a problem.  Peter Palmer is a perfect Abner because of his sweetness and innocence – you just love him.  Same with Leslie Parrish’s Daisy Mae.  Even General Bullmoose – Barry and I have worked very hard to keep at least a kernel of reality along with the comedy.  And you can’t hit the jokes over the head – the show walks a fine line and sometimes just staying out of the way is the best policy because the lines are so brilliantly constructed.

I was so concerned about trying to cast this for the LACC production.  I always knew Barry would be Bullmoose, and when John Massey, in a perfect bit of serendipity, ended up back in town after performing on the high seas of a really long time, we had a perfect Marryin’ Sam.  I originally wanted Jane Noseworthy for Daisy, but for many reasons it didn’t happen and that turned out to be a very good thing for this particular production.  I then cast someone else, and that was fine until the someone else’s agent got involved and told me even though the actress had committed to the show, that she couldn’t actually commit because she was up for another couple of jobs.  That was all I needed to hear, and I cut her loose instantly. And that led me directly to Maddy Claire Parks, who turned out to be the best choice of all – imagine, an actual eighteen-year-old Daisy Mae (the lyric “seventeen last spring actually is true with her).  That left Abner.  I put the word out amongst my friends – nothing.  I finally put word out on Facebook.  I met a few people – most too old.  I was beginning to despair when my friend Marilee Bradford wrote me on Facebook and said, “Evan Buckley Harris.”  I had no idea what that meant, but I looked him up on Facebook and he looked like the right type to me.  And in another bit of serendipity, Barry had directed him in Grease back east.  Best of all, Evan was really hungry to play it.  There were still a couple of people I needed to meet, but Evan was persistent, eventually putting himself on tape and sending me an audition.  Once I heard him read a scene, I just handed him the role.

I didn’t want to bring in anyone else from the outside, but then I began to think it would be fun to have Sami Staitman in the show – there is a young girl character (usually played by someone older), and so what I did was basically create a track for her – not adding anything, but giving her certain bits throughout the show.  Then I did the workshop at LACC to see who I’d be having in the show.  From those people, I was actually able to cast it really well – it was a complete luck out.

And so, my little Abner journey is finally resulting in what I hope will be a fresh and fun and even unique presentation of the show.  I cannot say that the last week has been a walk in the park due to some completely unnecessary stuff that’s gone on, but that story is for another day.  But even through that, I’ve just stayed positive and done the work and enjoyed myself immensely.  Watching the students find and get on their game is always very moving to me, and these kids are all working very hard.  After we’re done, I may just go in the studio and record our version and I would be happy to take these kids on that journey.  We shall see how everything shakes out and how I’m feeling about everything.

Yesterday was a day of way too little sleep.  I do think I got six hours somehow.  I did stuff on the computer, submitted some packaging for approval, and then went and had a cup of soup and some chicken tenders, after which I went to the mail place and picked up signed musical quotes from Mr. Stephen Sondheim and Mr. John Kander.  Someone with the STAGE benefit came and gathered them up at LACC after my production meeting there at two.  That left me two-and-a-half hours to kill, so I just sat in our theatre watching them continue to load in our set.

At five we began with all of Barry’s scenes – he’s been home sick for the last three days, so it was good to get him back on his feet.  We’d had a chat about the character and he took all those notes and really made them work.  There were lots of laughs, we cleaned up some blocking and then we let him go.  Then we went to the ballet.  First I had everyone walk the entire thing in slow motion to make sure everything worked for them with our risers finally in, and happily everything did work save for the very first bit, which I’d blocked using our stair unit – the guy going up the stairs to the platform over the band, and the gal chasing him by going around to the other side of the platform and using the ladder there, meeting him on top and then chasing him back down the stairs.  Of course it worked perfectly on the taped out floor, but trying to do it on the steps and the ladder and all in sixteen counts is probably not going to work, although the two actors involved asked if they could work on it by themselves and see – I said as long as they were super careful, yes, they could, but meantime I’m going to come up with an alternate bit just in case.

Then we ran it at speed and it worked splendidly.  We did it twice, then went back to the top of the show and did Typical Day and everything all the way through the end of the very long Cornpone Square meeting scene and songs.  That was the best it’s ever been and boy was it fun to watch.  John Massey, who has really been struggling with the Jubilation T. Cornpone lyrics, nailed them and hit it out of the park.  We did the Unnecessary Town scene, but skipped The Country’s in the Very Best of Hands so we could drill the finale.  Little by little, bit by bit, it’s all coming together.

Today we have our long rehearsal, which begins at ten-thirty.  We’re going to review some music, drill the big numbers and work the big scenes over and over, plus do more detail work on the smaller scenes, especially the scene that opens the show after Typical Day.  That is a very tricky scene as it introduces us to a whole lot of information that has to have its points made while still moving along at a steady clip and still getting all the jokes to land and to present us with the energy of the show.  We’ll wrap out at four-thirty and I’m sure some of us will go eat something fun somewhere fun.  Then I’ll come home and relax.

Tomorrow, we have a four-hour rehearsal, which will be drilling with the full cast – again, mostly the big, unwieldy scenes, just honing them and getting everyone to pick up their cues and honor the energy and the pace.  Then I’ll come home and get ready to go to the STAGE benefit.  I’ll probably go down there early to get good parking, then take a nice, long walk.  I will, of course, have a full report.  This year’s show is quite a star-studded affair and is similarly themed to the Kritzerland at the Movies show we did a few months ago.

Sunday I think I’m just going to relax and take it easy, because the upcoming week is all Abner all the time, including as many run-throughs as we can get in, plus a band rehearsal and then our sitzprobe, then going into tech.

Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, have a long rehearsal, eat, and relax.  Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Friday – what is currently in your CD player and your DVD/Blu and Ray player?  I’ll start – haven’t a clew.  Your turn.  Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland after which I shall continue on the road to Dogpatch.

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