L.A. Blues: Redux, Part 2

*The following was written on May 24th 2012*

In the words of Ozzy Osbourne, we’re going through changes. Not the menopause, you understand – we’re too young/old/masculine (delete as appropriate) for that. No, L.A. Blues is changing again. Which is becoming quite the theme this time around, I suppose. I have already written about the new cast, poster, dynamic, director/actor decisions, etc… New is the new new and all that. The difference is that while each of the previous circumstance-changes has resulted in more than a little expleting (is that a word? it is now) and kicking of furniture, the latest batch of tweaks are entirely intentional. Because, despite the impression I may have been giving, change isn’t always a pain in the arse. Yes, it is annoying when the European football causes Coronation Street to be switched to a Thursday, but sometimes change is good. During the previous run of L.A. Blues, there were decisions made concerning blocking during rehearsals that turned out to be an annoyance during the actual run of the show. [Blocking, for those unfamiliar, is the term used when deciding where the actors move/stand/etc…]

Those familiar with the Cobalt will know that it has no stage. But it also has no raised seating. For L.A. Blues we needed one or the other. So we built a stage (see picture below for the undressed stage). As you can see, the stage was split in two – an upper, smaller area and a lower, larger one. For the first run, I decided that most of the action should take place on the lower level. It was more central and closer to the audience. The problem was that it made some of the most important scenes very difficult to see. Key lines and actions were delivered from a sitting position and I don’t know how much the audience missed. For me, and I’m sure for others, some scenes might as well have been from a radio play. No one complained. No one even mentioned it. But I noticed it. And it bugged the shit out of me every night.

So doing it again given me a chance to address the mistakes made back in December. A lot of the action has been flipped – scenes that took place on the lower level now occur on the higher one, and vice versa. Interestingly, as well as (fingers crossed) allowing the audience to see more of the action, it has allowed us approach things in a way that we hadn’t realised before: Does it really matter that Billy now goes to the bar rather than sitting at his table? Yes. Does moving Winifred away from the action in Act 2, Scene 2 really increase the tension? Yes. How much meaning can moving a cocktail glass really have? A lot.

I don’t know if anyone who saw the show the last time will notice. Hopefully you will. Hopefully you will enjoy it more and get more out of it. Even if you don’t, I think it is important that you come along again and see for yourself. Which is better, L.A. Blues or L.A. Blues: Redux. You won’t know unless you see both. Go on, you know you want to...

Tickets can be reserved by calling 01-8730313 / 086-0591346 or emailing neonfringe@gmail.com

L.A. Blues: Redux, Part 1

*The following was written on 18th May 2012*


There is a period between casting and the first read-through during which a director experiences a number of things:

1. confidence that he has the perfect cast 
2.  a combined feeling of doubt and fear that he has cast the wrong people
3. an inability to remember exactly what each auditionee was actually like
4. a sense of self-belief that he must have made the correct decision
5. a renewed (and infinitely more potent) feeling of doubt and fear that he has cast the wrong people
6. acceptance that what is done is done and that everything will work out fine (a mental state made more manageable with the knowledge that if it doesn’t work out, he can always fire everyone and look for replacements)

The above is a fairly accurate description of how I felt in the week between casting our new Fats Rothstein and actually having the whole cast sit down together and read through the script. I needn’t have worried so much. Killian has proved a worthy addition to the cast and is very much holding his own against Sorcha and Matthew.

But, as I had feared, things are different. This is no mere revival anymore. Each actor (sometimes rightly, sometimes wrongly) has his own interpretation of a role, a line, a movement. Each actor also has their own energy. All of this affects how the other actors act and react. Which effects the production as a whole. In short, while we expected to begin again for every scene that features Fats, we did not anticipate revising the scenes from which he is absent. For example, decisions made by myself and the actors in rehearsing Act 1, Scene 2 (the initial meeting of Winifred and Fats) have resulted in a need to look at how Winifred and Billy behave in Act Two.

I’m not complaining. Well I am. But not because of the changes. Theatre is a creative process and change is necessary – to force one actor to mimic his predecessor is unfair and unproductive. I am delighted that we are moving in a new direction. It has allowed us to explore the script in new ways and gives us an opportunity to make the play even better than before. The problem is that we timetabled the pre-production period based on a revival structure. And now we are starting from scratch within a very short timeframe. I’m happy to reboot. I just wish that we had more time.

Poster Problems

*The following was written on 12th May 2012*

Here is our new poster. You will see from this very blog that it is more than a little different to our last poster for the same show. Why? you may ask. The last poster was cool and conveyed the tone of the piece perfectly. This, of course, is true – it was and it did. And indeed, the plan was to continue to use the original design with a nice sticker on the front announcing the new dates. But then we had to re-cast Fats and all of a sudden our poster needed not only new dates but also a new face. Stickers can only do so much. And the last thing I wanted was to give the impression that one of the cast was Pacman. So we needed to make changes.

Those readers who followed the blog back in late 2011 will know that the original poster design was a collaboration between myself and Katie McDermott. The natural solution was to contact Katie and make the necessary minor amendments. But the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of doing something different. I decided that since we had a new cast member and a new dynamic (more on that next time), we needed a new poster.

Taking a leaf out of Winedark Productions book, I wanted a single silhouetted image with text on a solid-colour background. So I needed an image that would sum up the play: a martini glass? A revolver? A woman? All were tried and revolver won. There was some debate amongst the team as to which colour the background should be – I favoured red, others blue. I was afraid that a blue background for a production called L.A. Blues would look to amateurish. I was wrong. Blue nails the tone of the play while my red version resembles some sort of straight-to-DVD sex thriller. Decision made.

If I’m honest, there are things I would like to change – some of the text needs repositioning and possibly re-sizing. But regardless of these niggles, I think it is a good poster, maybe a great one. Not necessarily in the pantheon of theatrical posters, but for this play. Certainly, it is a lot stronger than it’s predecessor. And that’s what matters for now.

Booking now open!

If you want to reserve tickets for L.A. Blues (seen it already? see it again!) then you can do so by following one of these very simple procedures:

Call 086-0591346. Let us know who you are, how many tickets you want and for which night.

Or: 

Email neonfringe@gmail.com and let us know who you are, how many tickets you want and for which night.

Spaces are limited so please do book early to avoid disappointment.

Auditions

* The following was written on 6th May 2012*

Re-reading the previous instalment, I realise I neglected to mention which cast member will not be returning this time around. It is Neon Fringe regular Andrew Deering. Which means we have a Fats-Rothstein-shaped hole to fill. And fill it we have! But more on that later…

Last time I bemoaned the process of auditioning. And having just completed it once more, my opinion has not changed. This time around, though, wasn’t quite as bad as when we were casting Love in the Time of Social Networking. Back in 2010, we held open auditions and suffered because of it – not creatively (that cast was a joy to work with and truly delivered) but administratively. Over the course of three hours we saw a lot of people. But we didn’t have a structure in place – one minute we had a group of eleven, the next a group of three. It was a mess. But it taught us a valuable lesson. This time around we were prepared.

First off, we asked actors to express an interest in auditioning and submit a headshot and CV. From this we narrowed down the list to those we wanted to meet face-to-face. We had a number of criteria: looks (Fats is an older character), theatrical experience and, perhaps surprisingly, grammar and presentation. This may seem harsh but if someone cannot correctly format their own CV then I would question their dedication and work ethic. If that makes me a bastard, so be it. As I said before, personality counts. So does grammar.

But I digress. We narrowed it down to ten potentials and called them in to audition. Naturally, there were one or two no-shows (automatically bridge-burning offence) but otherwise things ran pretty smoothly. Auditions ranged from bad to excellent and there was healthy discussion as to who would be best for the role. In the end it was a unanimously agreed that the role of Fats Rothstein would be played in this production by Killian Sheridan. He joins the returning cast of Sorcha Ní Chléirigh, Matthew O’Brien, James Barry and Margot Doherty. So no pressure!

Lastly, a note on the casting decision. I mentioned that it was unanimously agreed upon. You will also have noticed that I have used the word ‘we’ a lot in this piece. This is not a ‘Royal We’. It is a first person plural we. The auditioning was a collaborative effort. I firmly believe that casting should never be undertaken by one person alone. Yes, the director has final say but he should not underestimate the advantage of extra opinions. It is all too easy to get caught up in the audition of one actor and a team approach can help ensure that the director stays grounded. Of course, the opposite can be true and casting by committee can be equally disastrous. But a few choice collaborators can, and do, make all the difference. I guess time will tell…

Revivals Are Easy, Right?

*The following was written on April 30th 2012*

Anyone who has read any of the Neon Fringe Director’s Blogs before will know that I like to tell the truth. Whether it’s about the difficulties we have encountered trying to stage a play in a café, or the realisation that the script has problems that are in need of a major fix, my approach is the same: just write about it. Even if it means a) being wrong, b) coming across as a twat, or c) both. I like to think it makes for good reading and gives some sense as to what it is like for a small independent company to mount a production with limited resources in a city not known for giving breaks.

As you know, L.A. Blues is coming back. The expectation was that it would be easy. We still have the set, access to the costumes and tech equipment, as well as the same cast and crew. All we had to do was arrange a date with the venue and update the publicity material to reflect the new performance dates. Rehearsals would be minimal; nothing was changing. All the cast needed to do was re-learn their lines. It was to be a hassle-free production.

Yeah. Not quite. It turns out one of the actors cannot be involved. Which, for anyone who hasn’t seen it yet, is 20% of the cast. Not exactly ideal. So rather than the laid-back rehearsal period we had planned, we now have five weeks to find a new actor and slot him into the production. Which means pressure, stress, uncertainty and, worst of all, auditions.

Now, I don’t know about other directors but I hate auditions. I am aware of their necessity but I still hate doing them. The audition environment is an unfair one – how often has someone nailed an audition only to prove a total flop in the actual production? And what about those that do not audition well but, if given the chance, really can deliver?

Forgetting about the actor (who, let’s face it, has a pretty shit time of it), the audition process is far from enjoyable for the director. Sitting through the same piece of text as a procession of actors overact, underact and otherwise waste your time, waiting and hoping for just one that stands out. And what if there is more than one who makes an impression? Then there is the who-do-I-choose dilemma – the fear that you will make the wrong choice and doom the production to mediocrity, or worse. This, before taking into account those who arrive at the audition full of energy, personality and enthusiasm, only to turn out to be difficult, negative assholes. Personality plays a part. It doesn’t matter how good someone is if they are a prick; I don’t want to work with them – it’s not worth the effort.

But that’s not all. Leaving aside the hassle of auditioning, I have a bigger issue to fret over: We knew the show was good and we decided to revive it based on that. What if, after pushing to bring in a new audience, something doesn’t work this time around? What if we can’t pull the show together in time? What if the new guy turns out to be a) rubbish, b) an asshole, or c) both? What if, what if, what if. My stress levels are currently much higher than they should be. This was supposed to be a walk in the park. Right now, it feels like anything but. Auditions are tomorrow. We’ll see how it goes.

The Return of the Blues

* The following was written on the April 25th 2012 *

Back by popular demand. It’s not a phrase I like. It annoys me, if I’m honest. What exactly does it mean? Have you ever seen a protest march calling for the revival of a play? Signed a petition to show that society just won’t be the same without that production of whatever returning to the stage? I didn’t think so. And yet a lot of the time, we are going to see plays that the populous have demanded come back. The last production that I paid good money to see has returned for a second run. Seemingly, the theatre-going public have demanded it. Why, I’m not sure. It wasn’t much cop the first time around and I can’t imagine anyone who saw it really wants to see it again. But posters don’t lie, do they?

Back by popular demand, in actuality, has nothing to do with the public. But it sounds great. It sounds like your production was so good, so very very good, that people have been beating down your door imploring you to stage another run. In truth, the production company wants to run the show again and back by popular demand is a sure-fire way of letting people know that your production is great. So great that they have one more chance to see it again. It’s bullshit.

Which is why you will not find back by popular demand on the flyers and posters for the revival of L.A. Blues – A Musical Noir. Not because it doesn’t deserve to return but because we at Neon Fringe are trying to be honest about what we do. Yes, we do think the show is great and yes, we have had people ask us if we would be doing it again. But we have not been inundated by petitions or had protests staged outside our offices and houses. Any small theatre company who claims they do is probably lying.

At the end of the day, the show is back because we feel that it deserves another shot. The response to the first run was overwhelmingly positive. And we know there is an audience who missed it the first time around. Also, we enjoyed it. We want to do it again because we had fun.

So there you have it. L.A. Blues is back. But not by popular demand. Please come and see it.