Play me a memory...

I have a guitar. It was given to me many years ago by my dear friend Nikki Helmich-Raasch. Unfortunately, the guitar became warped and unplayable, and the repair cost would be just as much if not more than a new one. So, it became art, and for the last 10 or so years it's hung in my apartment. I ask everyone who walks through the door to sign it. Most have, with a few exceptions of some who have politely declined (I remember every one of you, you heartless bastards!). What first struck me as a quirky thing to have in my apartment has really grown into something much more... It's become a diary of sorts. Moments of time pressed up against a musical piece of wood.


They're my memories. Family members, friends, roommates, friends of roommates, ex girlfriends, people who have graced me with their presence as I've lived and breathed through New York City. I was glancing at it tonight, going through the different names and smiling as memories flooded inside me, filling me with particular moments from the past, hopes for the future with these friends... And then I came across one name that struck me a little more than all the others...
Nicole Dolci was my Kansas City twin. She and I met while doing a Ron Simonian dinner theatre production called Blues Christmas I also met my very good friend Wolfgang (then Russell) Butcher during that production. It was a wacky, crazy show that was filled with things like making out with drunken cast mates, seeing Titanic on opening night, and crying our ever loving actors eyes out. And for the first time, really feeling a sense of community in a cast. She fast became my best friend, and we were inseparable discovering together everything from amazing indie rock bands to seeing movies like it was our job, and seriously laughing about a joke that days later we couldn't actually remember but still found funny... She was my Scully to my Mulder. In fact, she even called me Mulder, and Loser as well (in the most affectionate way...). I still remember sitting in a dark, smokey bar in the middle of Columbia Missouri hanging with our friends Kristie and Rob, and listening to the songs that we had heard them sing a hundred times and knowing that each time we both heard something new. I remember being the only ones in a movie theatre (we were seeing The Impostors) and breaking out into a impromptu dance that only ended when we heard the projectionist clapping. Hung out with her awesome family, held her hand as she went through her divorce, and braced myself when she moved to LA.

I moved to NY a little over a year later, and flew her down to shoot the movie we had spent four years talking about making. After that, she visited one more time and then we lost touch. Fought over stupid things, and just as fast as she came into my life, she was out of it. Time passes, as it always does, and we stayed in sporadic contact, but not enough to know that she had got sick. Her fiancee Benjie called me one evening to deliver the news. "Nikki," as her family called her, passed away. All in a moment, after seeing that signature, this all came rushing back. And as I look through the other signatures, hordes of other memories do the same. That simple, broken guitar with the writing on the wall has become one of my prized possessions because every time I look at it, it looks right back at me and tells me a story. I can't repair the relationship that Nicole and I had, but I can look back on the great memories that forged our friendship to begin with and smile every time I see it and let that amazing glow fill inside me. I hope you have your own guitar to play, even when it's lost a string or two...

Monkey Magic

There are those great theatre moments that strike you. They may get under your nails, clawing at you with attitude screaming, "Oh, you can't forget me, even if you wanted to." There are other moments that make you suddenly laugh days, weeks, and months later just by walking across something random on the street, which sparks up a memory of it in you. And then there and still others that have the kind of cast that makes you proud to be an actor. The kind that warms you with a thought, grabs you with a warm embrace, and reminds you that, although every experience isn't going to be like this one, it's so damn great that some do. I've had several shows give me one of each of those things. Craven Monkey and the Mountain of Fury gives me all of those, all at once, and I'm going to miss it dearly when it leaves me come Sunday morning...

Craven Monkey is the show I'm proud to be currently starring in, and it has been a thrilling experience, from first being cast in it to now. The beginning of my monkey journey go back to last summer. I auditioned and got cast in a rock musical last year called Willy Nilly that was featured in the NY International Fringe Festival. It was a wonderfully weird, you either get it or you don't musical bringing to life Charles Manson in rock musical form. It also introduced me to the "Piper Mckenzie" production team. I've seen their productions in the past (The Granduncle Quadrilogy: Tales from the Land of Ice being a stand out for myself) but had never had the chance to work with the company before. Their shows always told an interesting, weird, and truly original brand of storytelling, and I knew that a rock musical about Charles Manson was no exception. Although our reviews were mixed, it slayed the audiences (bad pun intended) and was extended off-broadway into the Fringe Encores series. It was during the original rehearsal process, however, that the director and producer came to me with their new idea. It would be an all movement show, specifically fight and dance, and they wanted me to be a part of it. Thrilled at the idea, I immediately said yes. The next week I said yes to another show that would open right after ours, and soon realized they would indeed overlap and I had to choose one or the other. Thank God I choose Craven. Not that the other show wouldn't have been a great experience as well, but Craven has been one of the best theatre pieces I've ever been involved with. Ever.

It first opened last December as part of the Brick Theatre's "Fight Festival." The cast featured both new and old faces for me. I've long been a huge fan of my friend Jessi Gotta's emotional, vivid work but had yet to stand next to her under the lights. Melissa Roth was featured in Granduncle so it was immediately exiting to have her in the cast as well. Adrian Jevicki was an all new face for me, and I'm thrilled to be sharing the stage with this great dancer. Fred Backus & Art Wallace are two great actors that both were featured alongside myself in the 12 part serial masterpiece Penny Dreadful for Third Lows & World Gone Wrong for Gemini Collisionworks, but we had yet to share a scene together (thank God that changed.) Hope Cartelli is the wonderfully quirky producer who I shared scenes with in Willy Nilly & Lady Cryptozoologist and again here share a couple of brief, lovely scenes with her. And Becky Byers is someone I've been honored and humbled to have had the pleasure of working with several times, from our first stage experience together in Penny Dreadful & Lady Cryptozoologist to last years Willy Nilly and the short films Avenue A & falling... I also recently danced an incredible Lady GaGa number with her, and I can't wait until we share our next scene together (in fact, we've already worked on a workshop of a new play together, so I think we already know our next project...). The crew also was a mix of new & old faces, from those I've had the pleasure of working with before (Jeff Lewoncyzk, Guinevere Pressley, Adam Swiderski) to finally working alongside Qui Nguyen, the thrilling fight choreographer of "Vampire Cowboys." With a crew like this, I believe it's actually impossible to fail. But to soar like this show has is a blessing. Our critics apparently agree: the reviews have been unanimously wonderful:

That Sounds Cool Blogspot
Seanrants
Theater Online
TravSD
NY Press
TimeOut NY
Comic Critique
Broadway World

Because of it's initial sold out run at the Fight Fest, we were able to remount it (bad pun intended again) and now that run is coming to a close this weekend. I have been honored to be a part of this magical play, and it would delight me to no end if you all came out to see us this weekend and made it a sold out, wham bam ending for this fantastic show. Trust me, you won't regret it. The Mountain of Fury will "tower above you, as only mountain can."

Written & Directed by Jeff Lewonczyk. Costumes by Julianne Kroboth. Fight Choreography by Qui Nguyen & Adam Swiderski. Created by the Company. Starring Adrian Jevicki, Jessi Gotta, Hope Cartelli, Art Wallace, Fred Backus, Melissa Roth, Becky Byers, Mateo Moreno, and the voice of Jeff Lewonczyk. Presented by Piper Mckenzie and the Brick Theatre, 575 Metropolitan Avenue, Brooklyn NY; (718) 907-6189. Through March 13th. Running time: 65 Minutes. Tickets are $12. To purchase tickets, go here and for more info, go see Piper Mackenzie here.

Theatre Review: "Mr. and Mrs. Fitch"

I apologize for being gone from the blogging world so long... I was called away to London, then France, then Aruba, each with a top secret mission. In essence, I became a spy, but decided that the life of a spy, while good on paper (spy paper), was a little too fast paced for me. So I decided to come back to NYC and become a slightly broke actor again. Now THAT'S adventure dammit! And the first show I saw when I came back from my adventures was Second Stage's "Mr. and Mrs. Fitch." Wow. What a terrible, terrible choice...

The play starts with the two title characters (and the only two characters we see on stage) Mr. and Mrs. Fitch, a married couple who write an online entertainment blog together. Together they bicker about life, make jokes about entertainment and technology, and discover that the thing they need to do, in order to become relevant again, is to create a fictional celebrity. They write about him as if Mr. Smith spoke to him at a fancy after party, and act as if they've "discovered" a fantastic new personality. Complications arise. The couple, played by John Lithgow and Jennifer Ehle, are meant to be presented as a fun loving, wise cracking rat-a-tat-tat couple who can joke about Twitter and dance the Charleston at the drop of a prop hat (or a prop iPhone, which was dropped at one point in the performance I saw and never again picked up. Cause, you know, that's what real people do). Unfortunately, they both come off as annoying, smug, and are actually presented as two people you would never want to spend more than 2 minutes with, let alone 2 acts. Lithgow, however, is very good, thumping around the stage and spitting out a few great zingers ("You know, theater, that thing that movie people do when they want to announce they’re available for television.") and even in the incredibly unnecessary second act he trumps along gamely and always has a sense of fun in his delivery. Ehle does not have the luxury of Lithgow's shinning persona.

I read over Ehle's bio and noticed that she's starred on Broadway in Sure Thing, Design for Living, & The Coast of Utopia so it's quite obvious that producers trust in her acting chops. I, however, saw an actress finally ready for Community Theatre in Ohio. Ehle mugs, rants, and is just plain bad. The most interesting thing about Ehle is a very cool scar she has on her right arm that is showcased much better than her acting ability. THAT I enjoyed. But I kept praying for an accident on stage that would force her understudy to leap on and replace her (is that mean? Probably, but it's true). Add that with the fact that she had zero chemistry with Lithgow and you've got one miscast actress. Surely she's better than this performance. Right? Right...? (cricket... cricket... cricket...) Scott Ellis does succeed in his directing though. The actors remembered their lines (wait, no, not all of them...), and they do move from stage left... to stage right... sit back down at the center table behind a laptop... grab something off the bookshelf, rinse, and repeat. Oh, I forgot! Ehle cracks an egg and then leaves it in the kitchen never to be mentioned again. I guess the iPhone drop wasn't the only thing she immediately forgot about. So thank you Scott Ellis for letting the characters...well...move. Great directing. Top shelf.

The worst part of this trainwreck is actually Douglas Carter Beane's script. In the past, Beane has not only succeeded, but soared. Both As Bees in Honey Drown and The Little Dog Laughed were not only fantastic scripts, but were fueled with great direction and great original casts. This time around, Beane tackles the entertainment industry again, but with plodding results. The majority of the jokes are lame, the plot is almost non existent, and after spending an evening with Mr. and Mrs. Fitch (which is, also, the only way they address each other. Because, you know, that's what real people do) you don't only want to go home, but you want to pick up the nearest bottle of...anything and keep drinking until the memories of this sad sack of a play are gone. Unfortunately for you (and me) those memories will arise again. Hopefully, for all of our sakes, Mr. and Mrs. Fitch will not. If you do end up being dragged to this show, note that the best part of the entire evening is a non speaking one: Allen Moyer's fantastic Upper East Side set. Now THAT has character...


By Douglas Carter Beane. "Directed" by Scott Ellis. Sets by Allen Moyer. Starring John Lithgow, Jennifer Ehle. Presented by Second Stage Theatre, 305 West 43rd Street, Manhattan; (212) 246-4422. Through April 4 (if we're lucky, ONLY till April 4th...). Running time: 2 hours.

A Park Avenue Story

New York has, for my money (or pesos), the best live theatre in the states. It also boasts some really odd fare every so often (or every day, really). And if you have some money and time on your hands, anyone can stage a show. But will an audience actually come and see your show? In the case of Cindy Adams, the strikingly unfunny gossip columnist for "The Daily News" here in NY, the answer (I hope) will be a resounding "no."

Here's details of her upcoming one woman show (taken from playbill.com) about her show called Only in New York, named after her "famous" saying she stole from about seventy different media outlets that thought if it before her.

New York Post gossip columnist Cindy Adams will debut her one-woman show, Only in New York, Sept. 29-Oct. 2.

The four benefit performances will be held in the living room of Adams' Park Avenue apartment, and proceeds will benefit The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA), one of Adams' favorite charities and one that she serves as a board member.

Each 7:30 PM performance will seat 50 and will include a post-show question-and-answer session.

Only in New York, according to press notes, will take "audiences through [Adams'] unique and almost-unbelievable journey to become the media's authority figure on all of the celebrity news, gossip, scandals, interviews and scoops that the public can't get enough of. Until now, you only think you've heard everything there is to hear from show biz's most well-connected columnist, but Only in New York will reveal things about your favorite celebrities that have always been kept a secret."

The performance also includes a pre-show tour of Adams' nine-room Park Avenue penthouse.

How weird is that? Not only is her show guaranteed to be lamer than "Lestat" the musical, but she's putting it up in her own living room? 50 people hanging out in her living room while she talks? Not even on a stage. Is there an intermission? If I get up to go to the bathroom, or bolt for the door, will the show stop? Will you say something "oh so witty?" And mostly, will you be offended at the deafening silence each time you tell a "joke?" Watch out for those tumble weeds! And wow! You get a pre-show tour of her nine room Park Avenue Penthouse that you could never, ever afford! WOW! And all for the comfy, nifty price tag of $250 a ticket. Yup, you read that right: $250 a pop. Now I know that it says proceeds go to "ASPCA," but read the fine print here. It says "proceeds" not "all proceeds" or even a specific amount of "proceeds." I'd bet, at most, 5% of the ticket sales will go to "ASPCA." The rest will go to Botox. I don't mean to be cynical here (okay, maybe I do) but is there any real reason for this show? "...the media's authority figure on all celebrity news...?" REALLY?! You write for the NEW YORK POST, The National Enquirer of Newspapers for God's sake! A monkey could write a column for your paper. Call it "EEeehhhh, eeehhhhh EEHH!" and I guarantee it'll hold more laughs and less shit than one of your so called "humorous" anecdotes does. Oh, shitty one person shows. Only in New York Kids, Only in New York... (Wait, I've heard that somewhere before...)

(Cindy Adams, along with her husband Muffy Adams, pictured above)

Just three unrelated things is all...

So, I tend to do about fourteen projects at a time. Being insane actually keeps me sane. For instance, I've been shooting small cameo parts in two films (Step Up 3D & Going the Distance), shot a pilot for HBO (Boardwalk Empire), in pre-production for my film Avenue A (which I'm directing), preparing the script for my Romeo & Juliet adaptation, blocking out a new musical I'm writing, and in rehearsals for a swell new show. I love my life. The show I'm rocking out, 1969 style, to is in the new NY Fringe Festival this year. Willy Nilly! is a rollicking psychedelic musical about Charles Manson and his crazy ass killings, only a few names are changed (strictly for the author's amusement).

It's very funny, with a great score by Trav SD, and an awesome ensemble that I'm proud to be a part of. I play many different "Monty Pyton" type parts, including Hippies, a certain Horror Director, a certain "Queen," a hitchhiker, and a few other surprises. We've already been called "this years breakout hit" and we haven't even opened yet! It's exciting to be a part of something exciting (did I actually just write that sentence? Yeah, I did...). And we just might be doing something really cool this coming Wednesday to promote the show... I'll keep ya updated...



PIMPING MY FRIEND ALERT: My good friend Kiirsten (seen here about to hand scissor someone in the face) is an actress. She's also a singer. And in a band. And her band sorta rocks. So you should go vote for her band, "Hip Like (Blank)." They're in a contest. Help her win it by going here. And if you don't vote, well then, the terrorists really have won...

And if by some chance you happen to be enjoying your day and a giant Bollywood number happens in front of you, chances are you're where I was today.


And it was quite entertaining. Oh, Bollywood. You and your dancin'...

Look at that Chris Kattan go! Who knew he was still making movies? Who knew he was even still alive?! Bollywood did, that's who. Bollywood did...

"Funny People" Movie Review

Movies about Comedians usually bring mixed results. The King of Comedy, with Robert DeNiro and Jerry Lewis, is a great example of a movie about comedians done right. Punchline, with Tom Hanks and Sally Field, is not. By finding the right tone to tell a truthful and honest tale of a comedians life, you have to be willing to embrace the drama along with the funny. To have it feel real and not just a story about people who are rich and famous. Who just get to do pretty much anything they want because they're rich and famous and never have any real consequences (I'm looking at you Entourage). Funny People attempts this bold task of showing you rich people with problems and makes it work, makes it "real."

Adam Sandler stars as George Simmons, an actor who sold out by making really terrible Waynes-Brothers esque movies. But the gamble paid off, because he's one of the biggest comic stars in the world. Unfortunately, his life is about to take quite a turn, as he's given news of a rare disease that may kill him. Seth Rogen plays Ira Wright, a young man wanting to be a comedian but has to work all day at a grocery store deli while his two best friends (Jonah Hill & Jason Schwartzman in two very funny smaller roles) have much more success than he does, in varying degrees. One night Simmons sees Ira perform and decides to hire him to write jokes and be his personal assistant.

And so the moves moves forward, not in a montage like rush, but with precision and grace, showing us absolutely everything that is going on with their newly found relationship/sudo friendship. Sandler is great here, just as good as he was in Paul Thomas Anderson's Punch Drunk Love & James L. Brooks' underrated Spanglish. He shows a very tender side, alongside a very abrasive one as well and makes you believe that this man is struggling inside and out (even with his fortunes) and that this disease may be finally opening up his eyes. Rogen also turns in a sharp performance here and you don't question once why he would stay around with this guy, because you would too. Leslie Mann turns the "last act" role of the girl who got away into someone very relatable and, dare I say it again, real. Also, watch out for Aubrey Plaza as the girl of Rogen's dreams, or at least, the girl of his desires, and Eric Bana proves that he can indeed do comedy, and he does it well. There's more, much more (I mean, it's 150 minutes long) to the story, but won't tell you much more in fear of giving away too much of the plot (and I advise you not to watch the original trailer either if you don't want much of the story told to you). Yes, it's a tad long. But it works. Judd Apatow's sweet, personal film is a wonderful meditation on life, death, love, the one who got away, and everyday success and dreams. Again, Apatow shows that he's a master of telling a grown up story with heart and ranchy language. Which is what most of our lives is: a few swear words here, a little heart there, a few more swear words...a few more...a few....). Let Sandler and company entertain you here, make you laugh, make you think, and, thank God, make you feel. - B+

Remembering...

Christy Henrich was a world class gymnast, but to me she was my brothers fiancee. I was young, still adjusting to being an outcast in school when they met. She made the world always seem better with her amazing smile and wonderful laugh. And her undeniable talent made her a superstar in my eyes. Well, she herself made her a superstar in my eyes. My brother loved her, she loved my brother, and we loved her. In 1989, a judge (who, if they are any kind of an actual "human being" will be haunted from this forever) told Christy that she needed to loose weight if she was ever going to make it to the Olympics. See, Christy missed going to the Olympics the year before by just two spots, and desperately wanted to make it so she took this advice to heart unfortunately. Christy was nothing but pure muscle, and any weight loss would be detrimental. Unfortunately it was.

Over the next few years, Christy's weight begun to fluctuate, minor at first, then widely. She was enveloped by the two eating disorders that had taken over her life, Anorexia and Bulimia. Christy died eight days after her 22nd birthday. Her memory, and her legacy, is remembered to all people around the world, not just by her family and mine, but to her millions and millions of fans globally. Her original balance beam leap was named after her, and my brother plans on one day writing their love story in book form, and telling more about this amazing person who I was privileged to have in my life. I think about Christy all the time, and how I would have loved to have grown up into the person I am today with her around, physically that is. How I would have loved for her to see me become the actor I am today (Her final hospital stay was during my very first play ever in 1994, so the memory of my acting career beginning is a tad bittersweet). She died 15 years ago yesterday. Two things I hold dear: A photo of the two of us dancing at my sisters wedding, and a birthday note she wrote me telling me I was "the little brother she never had but always wanted." We love you Christy, and will hold you dear forever, in our hearts, in our minds, in our lives...