Posts Tagged ‘theater’

Max Dix, Zero to Six: “The Monkey Brains Scene”

Wednesday, May 19th, 2010

Another short excerpt from “Max Dix, Zero to Six”. The first half of this scene (Garden Scene) was posted last Wednesday. See this if only for the monologue on watching orientals on TV eat monkey brains…


Click HERE TO SEE THE MONKEY BRAINS SCENE.


Here’s some stills from this video excerpt:


The elderly man describes what he sees on the tv screen:
Monkey Brains 1


Close-up, fascinated by what he sees:
Monkey Brains 2


Less fascinated…
Monkey Brains 3


Here comes the moment when they lift the skull from the monkey’s head….
Monkey Brains 4


Pop!
Monkey Brains 5


Disgust begins to seep into the characters….
Monkey Brains 6


Max is told what he has learned.
Monkey Brains 7


Imparting more wisdom for Max to guide his life by…
Monkey Brains 8


Last words of wisdom into the dark….
Monkey Brains 9

Video – “The Garden Scene” from Max Dix, Zero to Six, excerpt from the staged play

Wednesday, May 12th, 2010

Another short excerpt from “Max Dix, Zero to Six”. The second half of this scene will be up next week.

Click HERE TO SEE THE GARDEN SCENE.



Here’s some stills from this video excerpt:


Max talks to the flowers


Talking to plants


Max and the Grandma-type neighbor laugh about Learning Things:
Max and Grandmother type laughing


The Grandma-Type tells Max about some of The Things of Life:
Grandma type with Max Dix in the garden


Grandma type in thoughtful mode:
Hiliary Barry as Grandmother type considering matters


Max is laughing at a joke the flower’s telling him, which the Grandma type did not hear…
Max laughs

Video – The beginning of Max Dix, Zero to Six, excerpt from the staged play

Wednesday, May 5th, 2010

Another short segment from my play, “Max Dix, Zero to Six”. It can only give a taste of the feel for the production. It is the very beginning of the play….


Click HERE TO SEE BEGINNING


Some stills from this excerpt:


All actors of Max Dix on stage at beginning


Pregnancy problems


parents adore their newly born infant


Max Dix proclaims he is alive & happy to be


Parents try to bribe their child with nonsense


Child get penis circumsized


Child gets baptized a Catholic

Max Dix, Zero to Six, video clip, The Soap Opera Scene

Wednesday, March 31st, 2010

Isabel Walsh, Mehran Khalili, actors, Max Dix Zero to Six


In 2008, I wrote and directed a play that went on to win a couple of national and international writing awards called Max Dix, Zero to Dix. A modest video was made out of two performances, and I’ve taken the decision to start posting some snippets and scenes of it.


The quality of the videos does not live up to the quality of the acting, but I hope generous viewers will be forgiving. The video was shot over two separate evenings in front of an audience during its run in Brussels, and sometimes the lighting, the cuts, the grainy images, aren’t all they could be. Yet the videos will certainly give a taste, and one hopes, pleasure, in what was presented.


Scene from the play, Max Dix Zero to Six


I haven’t spoken at length about this play because there hasn’t been a need or an urge, but perhaps in time, and with interest.


CLICK HERE TO GO TO THE VIDEO


Soap Opera Scene 1


Soap Opera Scene - Vincent Eaton play


George Taylor Memorial Award in the UK's National Drama Festival Association Playwriting Competition for 2008


Verulam award for best original play, Festival of European Anglophone Festival, Stockholm, 2008



SLICES, a theater play, its plans, the overload.

Wednesday, January 6th, 2010

munch-scream

I was going to begin rehearsing a brand-new newly-written play of mine this week called, “Slices”. It was to be about a group of executives of different nationalities waiting to get down-sized at a multinational based in Europe. The fear, desperation, politics, hysteria, comedy, surrealism of this situation. Auditions done, ideas began bubbling, most of the writing still had to get done within four weeks. This was the same procedure I had performed with my previous play, “Max Dix, Zero to Six”, writing the script when the actors had been cast.


Before committing to doing this, I had meet-ups with members of the board of the producing group, explaining my need for a backstage team and/or production team, or at least a list of interested contacts. I got affirming nods but nothing happened and I started writing and auditions happened and I wrote some more and sent out a “help-me-with-this” email and nothing came back but at a social event I was given three people’s names to contact as possible producers, without contact details. One of these people I had had a falling out with years ago. Another was already engaged with another production. The third was going through a divorce.


Significantly I also possessed a lifelong personal dread in cold-calling/contacting people to ask for help. With the holidays about to begin, I was trying to write and cast this play, come up with directing ideas without anyone on the technical or production side who could give me an idea whether something I was thinking of would be possible. Suddenly I only had three weeks to complete the writing of the full-length play, knowing I might have to rewrite the thing when much of what I was thinking of might not be possible, or who, and what quality of who, would be involved beyond cast members. And this play would have to go up in March.


With all this hanging over my head, the writing stuttered to a stop as worry rose. I had never put a production team together. All my contacts in this area were casual and fitful. I was called upon to be practical, creative, multi-tasking, dig and call around, administrate and organize, run my publishing company and my communications business and enjoy some Christmas. Unable to do half of this, I withdrew myself and the play rather than face possible mediocrity for the actors and the play.


There was no one to point to and say, Bad Person. This Is The Way It Is. I had been spoiled with my last two plays, with the essential part of the production team already set-up, which allowed me to concentrate solely on the creative. I had foolishly forgotten how one is expected to be part administrator/part director/part hustler to put on a play, and these combined skills set were not something I possess. This Is Not The Way I Am.


Still, I have SLICES the novel, which I’m moving forward with.


Pity is, I do this play writing and theater directing stuff pretty good.

Breathing Beckett

Friday, November 27th, 2009

Beckett for IGT Nov09This week in Brussels there’s a group of Samuel Beckett’s plays on, having been directed by my friend, Róisín Dore. Plays are ‘All that Fall’, ‘Breath’, ‘Play’ & ‘Catastrophe’. She asked me to contribute with her on “Breath”


For this very short play, I needed to seek out a baby crying and to record myself breathing. Very slowly in, then exhaling, very slowly. Meanwhile, on stage, in half-light, a static image of an artful mess. I love Beckett. I supplied three breathing samples and emailed them over to her, as well as baby cries. Róisín selected and mused. I then sound edited according to her direction. A few more emails & tightening. Lastly, she came over, sat next to me before my editing screen, and we honed.


Now it is onstage. The plays opened November 24, and I was there in the audience. The production and performances (and imagination and direction) were of an uncommonly high standard. I say uncommonly, because this is what is referred to as an Amateur Production. Expectations can often be middling for an satisfying aesthetic experience in such a setting, but in my long theater-going experience, there’s only good theater and bad theater. I have experienced amateur productions that rivaled professional productions. I have seen many disasters in both. This was moving, thoughtful, fun. After the lights came up, many in the audience began buzzing conversations in their seats, the most gratifying result a production could hope for. Engagement.


Happily, the run is sold out.


Róisín also acts, and here’s a monologue she performed for me, called Hold That Thought.