Well, dear readers, send lots of excellent vibes and xylophones for a wonderful and productive final few days before we open the LA show. We have a lot of work and smoothing out to do, but I believe we will do it and that’s all there is to it for to not do it will be to rue it so screw it and let’s do it. Yesterday I got ten hours of blessed sleep, and had the kind of day I wanted, i.e. a relaxing day. I did end up writing a set of liner notes so we can prep our next release, so that was good to get out of the way.
I went to Hugo’s so I could have a nice meal. I thought I’d be safe at three-thirty in terms of getting right in, but alas, there is no safe time on Mother’s Day, so I had a bit of a wait. I had my usual small Caesar salad and pasta papa, both excellent. I did want to turn to the person sitting next to me and tell him what a walking cliché he was with his irritating man bun. It’s amazing how people just go with whatever the current trend is and then keep it long after its expiry date has passed. What a goon. Then I came home, played on the computer for a bit, then sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I watched a motion picture on Blu and Ray entitled Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, the film of the Edward Albee play. The play itself was a huge influence on me and it remains, for me, along with Long Day’s Journey Into Night, my favorite American play. I read the play first, then heard the original cast recording on Columbia, which I played over and over again. Then in 1963 I saw the national tour here at the old Biltmore Theater – the evening cast was Shepperd Strudwick and Nancy Kelly, but I saw the matinee cast with Michaele Meyers and Kendall Clark (and Ken Kercheval and Barbara Dana) and thought both production and actors were magnificent. I saw the movie, of course, in 1966 at the Pantages, where I was working for a few weeks as an usher. My ushering stint during the showing of this film was and is legendary. I quite liked the film but, for me, it just wasn’t the same as experiencing the play. It was certainly well directed, and Burton, Taylor, Segal, and Dennis were all excellent, and I loved the score by Alex North, but there was just something about it that kept it from being a truly great film for me. The following year I saw a small theater production of it at the Ivar Theater in Hollywood, starring King Donovan and Kathie Browne – that was pretty bad. Then it came to the Lindy Opera House again that year, with the same George I’d seen at the Biltmore, Kendall Clark, this time acting with Vicki Cummings. It was very good, but a little on the cheap side. I saw the revival with Bill Irwin and Kathleen Turner, which I found pretty bad, due to cuts and consolidating the show into two acts.
I’ve only seen the movie a couple of times in the ensuing years. Having watched it again, I still feel the same way – it’s enjoyable but it’s just not, again for me, the visceral thing that that original production was – either on record with the original company, or in that first tour.
After that, I just relaxed.
Today, I shall hopefully arise after another good night’s beauty sleep. The helper will come by around eleven-thirty, then I’ll eat something and mosey on over to LACC around three-thirty, to go over the projections and some light cues. The company arrives at five and we begin our first dress rehearsal at six.
Tomorrow, it’s more of the same, adding our band and sound into the mix. Wednesday is our final dress and I’m hoping to have a few people in to watch it. Thursday is our preview and then Friday we open. I think we’re getting pretty full for that night, audience-wise.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, eat, work on projections and cues, and then have our first dress rehearsal. Today’s topic of discussion: What are your favorite play to movie adaptations – the ones where you feel they got it exactly right? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, happy to have had a day of rest and happy I have never had nor will ever have a man bun.