Process LX

Last week I said I was on track to complete my Dream Play. Ha ha, no. I finished the first act this week. That’s right, it is no longer one, ninety minute play. It is now a two-hour piece with an intermission.

The “first draft” is due on Monday. Ha ha, no. That won’t happen. However, I have a much better idea of what will happen. The reading last Monday night was swell. Once more, people appreciate my ability to write dialogue for young people that is neither too advanced nor too childish.

Folks dig the magic, the transgression (my professor loves the word transgression) how the pre-adolescent mind confuses sex with fear, and fear with death. The hormones which are burbling to the surface, and the deep dark secret for which the class is expecting a satisfying revelation.

Ah-hah. Well, yes. That. And that’s why I have fully embraced my wife’s idea of a second scene, and it will be one which both takes us away from the world of the first scene, while at the same time very much in the same world. I can say no more. Let’s just say my inspiration comes from the works of Caryl Churchill (we read Far Away last week) and, as much as I hate to say it, a play I saw once, written by Neil LaBute.

Creating a proposal for my illness narrative was one thing, actually writing it is another. When I say writing it, I really mean editing it. That’s not correct, either. Regardless, I have these notebooks. I have been reading them, and highlighting the relevant parts. It’s what David Sedaris was referring to when he titled his book of diary entries Theft By Finding.

Reading these notebooks makes me emotional. I am not surprised that it could, but I am still surprised that it actually does.

Finally, End of Play, a month of composition and playwriting promoted by the Dramatists Guild of the United States started yesterday, for which I have decided to compose a new draft of The Witches.

The "Santaland Diaries" Diaries

The Cleveland Public Theatre production of "The Santaland Diaries" by David Sedaris and Joe Mantello started one week ago today. The second of this two-weekend run kicks off tonight, so here are some personal reflections on the work so far. 

Photos by Steve Wagner.

Wednesday, December 6

Opening night. We had an intimate crowd, maybe twenty-five or so people plus a flock of Red Coats. I was grateful to have my mom in the audience, and a couple of friends. The laughter was extremely polite this evening.

Right off the bat I developed some serious dry mouth, which was no doubt a result of having never performed this material in front of an audience, any audience at all. Sure, I had performed the piece numerous times before my director, stage manager, and our team of designers, most of whom had heard these lines untold numbers of times. But how would an audience react?

We have festive, colorful, holiday-themed tumblers hidden behind the toy boxes and I tapped those at least four times during the show. I am self-conscious about drinking during the show. A critic once called out Curtis Proctor for “gulping water” between every scene, which was an unfair exaggeration. It was like, between every other scene.

I needed to slow down for laughs, but first I needed to learn where they would occur.

Thursday, December 7

This morning I woke up to discover I have pink eye. So, this should be an exciting weekend for everyone involved.

Tonight the house was twice as big as the night before, but the laughs were half so much. There was a weird energy that I couldn’t account for, except that maybe that people had not had enough to drink.

This show has been produced by CPT for fourteen years, isn't that amazing? Word has it that most of those in the audience for any given performance of  The Santaland Diaries love this play and attend year after year. Almost as many have never seen the show before and know nothing about it. A surprising number believe they are actually going to see David Sedaris.

Tonight, while I was changing into my elf costume a woman in the front row asked me a question. I mean, the play was in progress, and she piped right up to ask me a question, like this was a lecture or a TED Talk.

She asked if the outfit I was in the process of putting on was the actual outfit they made me wear.

I just stared at her and a million responses popped into my head, like, “You know I’m an actor, right?” and “This isn’t real,” and “Oh my God, you think this is actually my story, don’t you?”

I also wanted to say, “I don’t have any lines here, so I’m going to ignore your question,” but instead I didn't say anything at all, and just made this pathetic little gesture with my hands as if to suggest, “Nice costume?”

About ten minutes later, her friend’s cellphone went off, and I was debating whether or not to ignore it, but when she pulled the thing out to turn it off she said “sorry” in a manner that was so matter of fact I wondered if she thought she was in a staff meeting and not attending a play.

So then I did speak up. I said, “We didn’t have cellphones in 1989.” That got a laugh, so I continued, saying, “Well, we did, but they were very large and they were only owned by douchebags.”

I realize we didn’t really use the word “douchebag” in in 1989, either, but by that point I was saying, “Where was I?” and picked up from where I left off.

Remember to turn off your cellphone.

Friday, December 8

By tonight, I only had to drink water twice! I have them timed so they almost make sense, too. You’ll have to see the show to know what I mean.

The guy who directed the first Cleveland production was in the house tonight, and when I spotted him I got extremely self-conscious. I would have to say one-third of my performance is me, one-third David Sedaris, and one-third a wholesale rip-off of Curtis, who first performed the role in Cleveland in 1999.

I don’t actually feel bad about such dramatic reinterpretation, or artistic plagiarism, or whatever you want to call it. I mean, Jesus. Cleveland Public Theatre contacted me about doing this show on the 19th of October. Did you expect me to start from scratch? Durr?

Saturday, December 9

Who attends a play at 5:00 PM? During the holidays, a lot of people. I had my biggest house for the first show, bigger than even the 8:30 PM. Both houses were loud and had fun, and it was probably because they had all been drinking heavily, which is something I wasn’t able to do between performances. This is really sad because there’s nothing like being by yourself for two hours in Playhouse Square, surrounded by literally hundreds and hundreds of other people having a great time, and not being able to drink.

There’s a certain passage, if you know the show you know what I’m talking about. It includes a certain word. It’s legendary. It’s awful. People ask you not to do it. “Do you have to use that word?” Yes, I have to use that word. It’s in the script and if you don’t say it, or use a different word, and the people who manage the rights to the play find out, your theater company might receive a cease and desist order.

It falls about a third-way through the show, and it’s a real crucible. It’s a personal challenge to see if I can make the audience laugh in spite of themselves, and they always do. That makes them complicit.

Sunday, December 10

Tonight’s crowd was smaller, and sober, but they were game and we all had a good time. One woman on her way out after curtain call confided to one of the Red Coats that she “wanted to see something dirty!” By that I think she meant she was satisfied.

Changing from my street clothes into my elf costume is one of the weirder parts of the show. I understand Ray used to do a kind of a strip-tease, but that’s Ray and besides, that’s really not the personality I give off through the rest of the show. I might be one of the most uptight and uncomfortable Crumpets in history. I really have no idea.

So, I have some fun with taking my clothes off, but mostly I stare at people who make comments, which is also funny. Tonight, however … man! There were whistles and catcalls. I am a forty-nine year-old man with a spare tire. I raised an eyebrow and said, “Really?”

Monday, December 11

A night off is always nice, but I still have to go into the office. Ran into a colleague in the lobby of the Bulkley Building who saw the show over the weekend, she told me again how much she enjoyed the show. She's seen one or two guys perform Santaland in the past, but that they were all young, that I was the first older guy she's seen do the show.

She said she really liked it this way, from a guy who has been there and done that, but without any bitterness. That I'm able to look back upon this life-changing moment with humor and clarity.

I guess that's kind of what I do.

Cleveland Public Theatre presents “The Santaland Diaries” at the Outcalt Theatre in Playhouse Square through December 17, 2017

The Santaland Diaries (2017)

Photo by Steve Wagner

It happened last month in a cottage in Yalding, England, where I received an email from Beth Wood at Cleveland Public Theatre, asking if I would like to perform the stage adaptation of The Santaland Diaries by David Sedaris and Joe Mantello.

For several years now, CPT has produced this holiday favorite. The Santaland Diaries is one of the most produced plays in America, and has consistently been for over a decade, so much so that American Theatre magazine has stopped including it in their annual list of most-produced plays.

Actors who have played the role in Cleveland include Ray Caspio, Doug Kusak and (for Bad Epitaph) Curtis D. Proctor.

I was excited to have been asked. So, I have spent the past several weeks rehearsing with director Eric Schmeidl, who played the role of "Crumpet the Elf" himself for CPT three years ago. I love working with Eric, who has previously directed me in The Velocity of Autumn at Beck Center, and Night Bloomers for Dobama.

When I first announced the production and my place in it on Facebook the other day, I was delighted by the strong and happy response. I was inspired to put out a call for questions, because folks were so curious about my finally playing Crumpet the Elf. Here are my responses.

Q: Explain the juxtaposition of tragedy and comedy in this this line; "Today a child told Santa Ken that he wanted his dead father back and a complete set of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Everyone wants those turtles."

A: Actually, Donald, I think the line speaks for itself. The line you should be asking about is; "I am a thirty-three year-old man applying for a job as an elf," and how exactly I am going to play that when I am certainly long past thirty-three. 

For this production, and in fact when Eric himself performed the role in 2014, there is a set piece which makes it clear this play takes place in the past -- 1989, to be exact -- and that we are treating it as a memory play.

When first produced in Cleveland at Bad Epitaph Theatre in 1999, we tried updating the line you ask about. The boy wanted Pokemon cards. When I directed the show at Beck Center in 2002 the boy wanted a "SpongeBob SquarePants BackPack. Everybody loves SpongeBob." 

You have to admit, "Everybody loves SpongeBob," is a funny thing to say. But now we leave the line as is.

Q: Have you seen David Sedaris in person and what did you think?

A: Good question, David. Sedaris read at the Ohio Theatre in 2000 when he was promoting his collection of essays "Me Talk Pretty One Day." He was on a certain medication and at one point had to ask the audience if it was all right to take a much needed pee-break, and we all thought that was fine.

Q: What's your favorite emoticon?

A: 🎅

Q: Reflect on being a writer who creates and performs autobiographical one-person shows performing another writer's autobiographical one-person shows.

A: Insightful query, Phil. Yes, I have written and performed my own solo shows, "I Hate This" and "And Then You Die." Standing on stage and talking for an hour without interruption is not unfamiliar to me. Those who are close me are no doubt aware that sitting in bars and talking for an hour without interruption is also not unfamiliar to me. 

It is perhaps because of these stage experiences that, while I had a few concerns about whether to accept the offer, actually being able to perform the piece wasn't one of them. I have at least that much ego.

Performing someone else's story, especially one as lighthearted as this, is particularly liberating. I just need to say the words and it's funny. Sedaris is really good that way. But it is also a thrill channeling my own feelings through the words. I don't have to play a character. Just as with those other solo plays, I still get to be myself. 

Q: Compare and contrast your Crumpet with Eric Schmiedl's Crumpet. I'm assuming you have seen Eric Schmiedl's Crumpet, yes?

A: No.

Q: How did you levitate that box (see photo)?

A: Well, Carolyn, how do you know that box is not slowly floating down into my loving arms, like a drunken cherub? 

Q: Have you ever actually worked in a retail store during the holiday season?

A: Thanks for asking, Nina, though your use of the word "actually" makes me a little defensive. 

I am happy to report that almost every Christmas season since 1991, I have been employed by one theater company or another. This means my holiday contributions to society have included productions like "Stealing Christmas" (Karamu 1991), "The Wayward Angel" (Bad Epitaph 2000), "Adventures In Slumberland" (Talespinner Children's Theatre, 2013), educational programs surrounding Great Lakes Theater's annual production of "A Christmas Carol" and that Yuletide favorite, "Simpatico" by Sam Shepard (Dobama Theatre, 1995).

However, during my college years I had several holiday jobs in mail rooms, wholesale outlet stores, performing data entry, and packaging and labeling volatile chemicals. I have also had my turn as a server at several restaurants, but have never "actually" worked retail during the holiday season.  

Q: What's with the knickers?

A: Yes, Halle. The knickers are satiny and very comfortable.

Q: Where?

A: The Outcalt Theatre at Playhouse Square, 1407 Euclid Avenue in Cleveland, Susan! See you there!

(Many thanks to Blayne, Bob, Carolyn, David, Donald, Halle, Nina, Phil, and Susan for all the great questions!)

Cleveland Public Theatre presents "The Santaland Diaries" at the Outcalt Theatre in Playhouse Square, December 6 - 17, 2017

The Santaland Diaries (1999)

Curtis D. Proctor as Crumpet the Elf
Photo by Anthony Gray

Following the success of Hamlet, Bad Epitaph Theater Company decided to produce some more plays. In addition to Wendy MacLeod’s Sin, it was decided to try a Christmas show — The Santaland Diaries by David Sedaris, which had recently been adapted into a solo performance.

The radio version, which was simply a series of “reports” written by Sedaris for NPR’s Morning Edition about his experiences work as an elf in Macy’s Santaland in Manhattan were a huge hit in 1992 and established him as a popular humor writer. Listening to This American Life I had become a fan of his work and thought his sense of humor fit with our hip Gen-X vibe (I say that ironically, can you tell?)

Ordering a copy of the script, we found this one-hour piece was accompanied by a second act called Season’s Greetings. I’d heard that piece, too, on This American Life (performed by Julia Sweeney) and it’s, well … it’s a nasty piece of work. I couldn’t imagine following the potentially hilarious Santaland with such an ugly monologue. Don’t get me wrong, it’s funny … but it’s horrible. Take my word for it. You can listen to it here, if you are curious.

So during the summer of 1999 I sent a letter -- a real, paper letter -- to the company that holds the rights to the play version of Santaland. I asked if we couldn’t instead perform Front Row Center with Thaddeus Bristol, about a theater critic who is reviewing a Christmas pageant at a local elementary school. That thing is hysterical. In my imagination, we could perform that short piece first as a curtain raiser before the main event.

Dramatists Play Service got back to me in short order to point me towards Sedaris’s own publisher, as they do not have rights to his other work. Right. Should have figured that out myself. So I wrote his agent a letter — a paper letter, through the post! — and heard nothing.

By fall, I sent a follow-up letter (paper) and soon received a polite letter in response informing me that yes, they had gotten my letter and sent it on to Sedaris’s New York residence, but that I shouldn’t get my hopes up as he was currently residing in France. They also let me know that under no circumstances should I produce any work of their client I did not have the rights to.

Not a problem, we had moved on by that point anyway. Our plan was to present The Santaland Diaries on its own. Just a one-hour act, who cares, right? It will be fine. Besides, we had Curtis Proctor cast as “Crumpet the Elf” and he was fucking perfect.

Shortly before the holidays I got a call at home and checking the caller ID I could see it was a 212. I didn’t know the number, but figured it must be Harris. Picking up the phone I heard a familiar voice.

“Hi, can I speak to David Hansen?”

“This is he.”

“This is David Sedaris.”

“Oh, hi!” I said, and immediately sat down.

He explained that he had just gotten back into New York and received my letter, and apologized for not calling sooner but wanted to respond to my kind request but that he wasn’t letting anyone, anywhere adapt any of his work ever again.

I told him I really appreciated his call, and that it wasn’t a problem, we were going to produce just The Santaland Diaries, by itself, and leave it that.

He went on to tell me the story of how he had been approached by Joe Mantello about the possibility of an Off-Broadway production starring Paul Rebuens as him.

“Great,” Sedaris told me, “All I thought was, ‘I get to smoke pot with Pee-Wee Herman.’”

What he didn’t know was that by entering into this agreement, the stage adaptation (originally starring Timothy Olyphant, and not Paul Reubens) was no longer his to control, and that anyone who wants to and pays the fee can produce it. Put mildly, this runs contrary to the kind of control he would prefer to have over his own writing.

“It’s not really a play,” he insisted, “there’s no character there, it's just a bunch of stories.”

Again, I thanked David Sedaris for his call.

“I really wish no one would ever produce The Santaland Diaries,” he said again. “Anyone. Ever.”

Awkward.

We produced it anyway. It was a big hit. In fact, The Santaland Diaries continues to be one of the most-produced shows in America, year after year.

Sorry, David.

See also: The Santaland Diaries (2017)