Have you ever listened to the CBC radio show called "This is That"? It is quite funny and really well done. It is set up like a news program and they explore wacky little fictional stories from all around Canada (like the episode where there was a move to rename Saskatchewan because it is too hard to spell). They also have these great segments when people supposedly call in to comment on the stories they cover, which are as funny as the segments themselves.
On my way home yesterday, I heard the broadcast of a story about a woman who creates invisible art. It was hilarious -- they played a bit of when her latest show was being installed in some fancy-dancy gallery in New York and then the commentary from patrons of the gallery who couldn't actually see any of the work. Some of them, like the little boy in "The Emperor's New Clothes", said that they thought it was a load of hoakum, but others bought into it and looked at the bare walls and spaces and discussed how it made them feel. And of course, the artist was able to make some sales and one of the buyers was asking, "is it a sculpture then?" At a climactic point in the piece, she freaks out and says that one of the pieces has been stolen, but then the gallery owner calms her down and tells her that the name plate had just fallen off the wall.
I laughed at it, but it does raise that great topic about what art is. People will say that it's an art to make a great beer or to build a great car. Is that an art? Can you say that a beautiful car is on an equal footing with "Twelfth Night" or "The Nightwatch" or "A Little Night Music"? (See my little theme there?) Obviously, there is a sensory component to art, especially to music which appeals to our senses first, I think, but in my opinion, there has to be another component as well and that is that a work of art is attempting to communicate something to you. It has a message and a great piece of art carries an important or urgent message. I am interested in what anyone thinks about it. Do you have to "get" the message? If you get a different message than the artist thinks he or she is sending, is the art unsuccessful? What if the message changes over time? (Like "The Merchant of Venice"?) What if you think there is a message, but you're not sure what it is? What about with music, where the sounds create an emotional response, but perhaps not an intellectual one? Is that superior to something more didactic or inferior? All interesting questions to ponder, but certainly hard to answer.
I'm reading Free Will by Sam Harris. He makes the point (with which I agree) that free will is an illusion. He answers all the naysayers pretty nicely and extends the argument to discuss the inefficacy of a punitive justice system (which Canada appears to be embracing). If people are the product of their environment and their biology, how can we focus on punishment for crimes they commit? Much better to focus on rehabilitation than punishment, in my opinion. He says, if we could, we would probably lock up earthquakes (and cancer, maybe), for the "crimes" they perpetrate and that would have as positive an effect as locking up a thief for stealing, because the thief is just as unable to choose his action as a force of nature is. He makes a very strong case, I think.
Sunday, 28 December 2014
Thursday, 25 December 2014
The Ineluctability of Incidents
"I have a theory...with a very exact name: "the ineluctability of
incidents," which is applied to the construction of all of my films. To
formulate it another way: if something happens, some other thing
inevitably flows from it. Like night and day follow each other, events
are linked together, and I always develop my story in this way, in a
series of incidents, of events which succeed each other and provoke each
other. I never really have intrigue."
Leo McCarey was an American film director who directed Cary Grant in a lot of what is called screwball comedies. "Much Ado About Nothing" is probably the first screwball comedy, because screwball comedies are characterized by that fast repartee between a star-crossed romantic couple just like the conversations that Beatrice and Benedict engage in. That kind of love hate relationship where the two lovers snipe at each other, but you know it's all going to turn out okay in the end.
"The Awful Truth" was a screwball comedy directed by Leo McCarey. He liked his actors to improvise scenes and I guess Cary Grant didn't initially like the idea of improvising, but his performance in this movie made him a star, and he's pretty funny in it. I guess Leo McCarey got his improvisational director's debut in a trial by fire because he directed "Duck Soup" which stars the Marx brothers, whose whole movies seem to be improvised they're so chaotic. I've tried to watch "The Awful Truth" several times over the last few days. I've fallen asleep watching it (no reflection on it, but on me) several times and then gone to bed and not been able to sleep at all! Tonight, I've actually watched the whole thing. You can see why Cary Grant was such a huge star. He's really funny and you can't take your eyes off him. And Irene Dunne is really funny, too. I've never seen her in a movie before.
Leo McCarey was an American film director who directed Cary Grant in a lot of what is called screwball comedies. "Much Ado About Nothing" is probably the first screwball comedy, because screwball comedies are characterized by that fast repartee between a star-crossed romantic couple just like the conversations that Beatrice and Benedict engage in. That kind of love hate relationship where the two lovers snipe at each other, but you know it's all going to turn out okay in the end.
"The Awful Truth" was a screwball comedy directed by Leo McCarey. He liked his actors to improvise scenes and I guess Cary Grant didn't initially like the idea of improvising, but his performance in this movie made him a star, and he's pretty funny in it. I guess Leo McCarey got his improvisational director's debut in a trial by fire because he directed "Duck Soup" which stars the Marx brothers, whose whole movies seem to be improvised they're so chaotic. I've tried to watch "The Awful Truth" several times over the last few days. I've fallen asleep watching it (no reflection on it, but on me) several times and then gone to bed and not been able to sleep at all! Tonight, I've actually watched the whole thing. You can see why Cary Grant was such a huge star. He's really funny and you can't take your eyes off him. And Irene Dunne is really funny, too. I've never seen her in a movie before.
God rest ye merry, Gentlemen!
Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it! This is a special time for most cultures because there is so little daylight. Lots of the things we associate with Christmas (the tree, mistletoe {did you know that the word "mistletoe" translates into "poo on a stick"?}, the yule log, the giving of gifts, the decorations, especially those that involve light) are actually pagan practices. We have Charles Dickens to thank for lots of the hoopla around Christmas -- that great description of the scene that frames the Ghost of Christmas Present is the Victorian Christmas exemplified. Here it is. Read it out loud for the best effect:
It was his own room. There was no doubt about that. But it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green, that it looked a perfect grove; from every part of which, bright gleaming berries glistened. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light, as if so many little mirrors had been scattered there; and such a mighty blaze went roaring up the chimney, as that dull petrification of a hearth had never known in Scrooge's time, or Marley's, or for many and many a winter season gone. Heaped up on the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam. In easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see, who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty's horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door.
`Come in.' exclaimed the Ghost. `Come in, and know me better, man.'
Scrooge entered timidly, and hung his head before this Spirit. He was not the dogged Scrooge he had been; and though the Spirit's eyes were clear and kind, he did not like to meet them.
`I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,' said the Spirit. `Look upon me.'
Scrooge reverently did so. It was clothed in one simple green robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure, that its capacious breast was bare, as if disdaining to be warded or concealed by any artifice. Its feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment, were also bare; and on its head it wore no other covering than a holly wreath, set here and there with shining icicles. Its dark brown curls were long and free; free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanour, and its joyful air. Girded round its middle was an antique scabbard; but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust.
`You have never seen the like of me before.' exclaimed the Spirit.
Of course, Mr. Allison sent me greetings on the holiday that he and I enjoy -- Frank Costanza's "Festivus" which features an aluminum pole (less distracting than a tree), feats of strength and "the airing of grievances". Apparently this holiday was kicked off in the sixties by Dan O'Keefe and his family. Dan O'Keefe later became a writer on my favourite tv show of all time, "Seinfled" and the "festivus" episode is one of the most hilarious of the show, although I'd be hard pressed to limit my "most hilarious" list to ten episodes, since I love the show so much.
My husband remains in the hospital and so it is a rather limping Christmas for us. I have watched lots of old movies, which can be a huge comfort when things are going awry. Last night, we watched "It's a Wonderful Life" and you can't beat that for comfort. I always see it as an expression of determinism, because George Bailey wants to leave Bedford Falls, but he can't. There's that terrific scene at the train station when his brother, Harry, comes home from college and the brother's new wife tells George about Harry's job offer and you can see the horror in James Stewart's face as he realizes that he is stuck again. Of course, it being Frank Capra, at the end, George realizes that he is the "richest man in town" because everyone loves him so much, but if George was a real person, he'd always have that awful seed in the back of his mind that would feed his feelings of frustration and failure and helplessness.
As with most holidays, Christmas can be a difficult time for people whose lives don't match the sense of community that the Baileys enjoy in Bedford Falls. When we started this whole medical odyssey with Mike, one of the nurses asked if we had family here and I said that we had huge crowds of family. But sometimes your family isn't helpful at all. Maybe you don't get along with them. Then it's worse if they're around! Have you ever felt lonely in a crowd of people? That's a more terrible kind of loneliness than when you are lonely by yourself. Everyone has tried to be very helpful in their own way, and we really appreciate all the meals people have offered and also the offers of "whatever we need". Here are some tips to any of you whose friends might be going through a tough time -- listen and be sympathetic, don't be negative (see the first suggestion - just listen; don't describe the worst case scenario - the person has already thought of that), don't give advice, don't expect the person to want "company" -- sometimes people want to be alone and there is nothing wrong with that, just let the person know you're there for them, and then be there.
That's all from me for now. I wish everyone a very merry Christmas and a wonderful healthy and peaceful 2015!
It was his own room. There was no doubt about that. But it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green, that it looked a perfect grove; from every part of which, bright gleaming berries glistened. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light, as if so many little mirrors had been scattered there; and such a mighty blaze went roaring up the chimney, as that dull petrification of a hearth had never known in Scrooge's time, or Marley's, or for many and many a winter season gone. Heaped up on the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam. In easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see, who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty's horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door.
`Come in.' exclaimed the Ghost. `Come in, and know me better, man.'
Scrooge entered timidly, and hung his head before this Spirit. He was not the dogged Scrooge he had been; and though the Spirit's eyes were clear and kind, he did not like to meet them.
`I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,' said the Spirit. `Look upon me.'
Scrooge reverently did so. It was clothed in one simple green robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure, that its capacious breast was bare, as if disdaining to be warded or concealed by any artifice. Its feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment, were also bare; and on its head it wore no other covering than a holly wreath, set here and there with shining icicles. Its dark brown curls were long and free; free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanour, and its joyful air. Girded round its middle was an antique scabbard; but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust.
`You have never seen the like of me before.' exclaimed the Spirit.
Of course, Mr. Allison sent me greetings on the holiday that he and I enjoy -- Frank Costanza's "Festivus" which features an aluminum pole (less distracting than a tree), feats of strength and "the airing of grievances". Apparently this holiday was kicked off in the sixties by Dan O'Keefe and his family. Dan O'Keefe later became a writer on my favourite tv show of all time, "Seinfled" and the "festivus" episode is one of the most hilarious of the show, although I'd be hard pressed to limit my "most hilarious" list to ten episodes, since I love the show so much.
My husband remains in the hospital and so it is a rather limping Christmas for us. I have watched lots of old movies, which can be a huge comfort when things are going awry. Last night, we watched "It's a Wonderful Life" and you can't beat that for comfort. I always see it as an expression of determinism, because George Bailey wants to leave Bedford Falls, but he can't. There's that terrific scene at the train station when his brother, Harry, comes home from college and the brother's new wife tells George about Harry's job offer and you can see the horror in James Stewart's face as he realizes that he is stuck again. Of course, it being Frank Capra, at the end, George realizes that he is the "richest man in town" because everyone loves him so much, but if George was a real person, he'd always have that awful seed in the back of his mind that would feed his feelings of frustration and failure and helplessness.
As with most holidays, Christmas can be a difficult time for people whose lives don't match the sense of community that the Baileys enjoy in Bedford Falls. When we started this whole medical odyssey with Mike, one of the nurses asked if we had family here and I said that we had huge crowds of family. But sometimes your family isn't helpful at all. Maybe you don't get along with them. Then it's worse if they're around! Have you ever felt lonely in a crowd of people? That's a more terrible kind of loneliness than when you are lonely by yourself. Everyone has tried to be very helpful in their own way, and we really appreciate all the meals people have offered and also the offers of "whatever we need". Here are some tips to any of you whose friends might be going through a tough time -- listen and be sympathetic, don't be negative (see the first suggestion - just listen; don't describe the worst case scenario - the person has already thought of that), don't give advice, don't expect the person to want "company" -- sometimes people want to be alone and there is nothing wrong with that, just let the person know you're there for them, and then be there.
That's all from me for now. I wish everyone a very merry Christmas and a wonderful healthy and peaceful 2015!
Monday, 22 December 2014
If it had not rained on a certain May morning, Valancy Stirling's whole life would have been entirely different.
Isn't that a good way to start a book? It makes you want to know what happened because of the rain (although my sister, the writer, said never start something with the person's whole name -- I'm not sure why but I think she thought it was trite). The Blue Castle, the book I mentioned that I have read so many times, has a pretty big place in my family. My mother received it as a gift when she was a young teenager. (It was hot off the presses then, in 1926!) When my mom started to read it and found out it was about a 29 year old "old maid", she thought "why would I want to read this?" but she kept at it, books being quite a rare and wonderful gift in a little town in the middle of Saskatchewan in those early days. And she discovered a wonderful story that would stay with her for the rest of her life.
In 1962, when my sister was 12, my mom wanted her to take part in an oratorical contest (speech-making). Unlike her little sister, little Rickey didn't like making speeches, but she did it anyway and Mom presented her with a copy of The Blue Castle as a reward. Now that very copy, with my mom's precise printing in the cover, has ended up with me. Here's one thing from the book that often pops into my head. "Fear is the original sin. Almost all the evil in the world has its origin in the fact that someone is afraid of something. It is a cold, slimy serpent coiling around you. It is horrible to live with fear, and it is of all things degrading."
I think that's true. I am afraid of lots of things but I try not to let fear rule me. I try to barrel through. My sons and I were talking about the whole caffuffle with Sony pulling the movie, "The Interview". What should they have done? My sons think they were right in their decision not to release it. I think you can't throw out your belief in free speech because of threats. Of course, it takes a lot of guts to defy the threat of attacks on theatres and innocent people. My sons said, "if someone threatened the school and said if you kept teaching drama, they would bomb the school, what would you do?" I imagine I would give in to the threat because I don't want to die or see my students die. But a better person than I would go on teaching and that would be the right thing to do. People on the news last night said we all have a duty to see the movie now, even if you aren't crazy about Seth Rogen or James Franco, because you want to stand up to the forces that would shut us up. What do you think?
In 1962, when my sister was 12, my mom wanted her to take part in an oratorical contest (speech-making). Unlike her little sister, little Rickey didn't like making speeches, but she did it anyway and Mom presented her with a copy of The Blue Castle as a reward. Now that very copy, with my mom's precise printing in the cover, has ended up with me. Here's one thing from the book that often pops into my head. "Fear is the original sin. Almost all the evil in the world has its origin in the fact that someone is afraid of something. It is a cold, slimy serpent coiling around you. It is horrible to live with fear, and it is of all things degrading."
I think that's true. I am afraid of lots of things but I try not to let fear rule me. I try to barrel through. My sons and I were talking about the whole caffuffle with Sony pulling the movie, "The Interview". What should they have done? My sons think they were right in their decision not to release it. I think you can't throw out your belief in free speech because of threats. Of course, it takes a lot of guts to defy the threat of attacks on theatres and innocent people. My sons said, "if someone threatened the school and said if you kept teaching drama, they would bomb the school, what would you do?" I imagine I would give in to the threat because I don't want to die or see my students die. But a better person than I would go on teaching and that would be the right thing to do. People on the news last night said we all have a duty to see the movie now, even if you aren't crazy about Seth Rogen or James Franco, because you want to stand up to the forces that would shut us up. What do you think?
Friday, 19 December 2014
Breakfast with Santa
Well, that was fun, wasn't it? One of these days, I'm going to have figured out what to do with that silly partridge before the last minute so I can see the other acts for Breakfast with Santa. I looked at Mr. Akselrod's pictures and everything looks so festive and high-spirited.
When I was in university, I always had a sense for exactly how long it would take me to do any sort of task (like writing papers or learning lines -- I did a drama degree, as most of you know). I still seem to work that way. I never seem to be able to get things done way ahead of time, no matter how good my intentions are. It's as if my mind has to sit on an idea for a certain length of time and I can't rush it, even if I want to. I have to wait for things to percolate. Not that the partridge is a particularly big deal -- I don't usually feel the need to prepare a choreographed dance (and I don't believe I could, if I wanted to) like lots of the other teachers do. That's why I have traditionally chosen the partridge -- because there is only so much you can do with just yourself. Maybe over the course of this year, I will plan something very elaborate for next year. But that probably won't happen.
I hope some of you read this over the holiday, because I meant to tell the directing and scriptwriting students to read a short story over the holidays that they would like to adapt into a script. I wanted to remind the senior actors to think about a subject for their rant. I wanted to remind Drama 9/10 to practice their monologues. The day was so chaotic, that all this reminding slipped my mind. Well, I guess 2015 will bring its own needs!
Now we can relax and take it easy for a couple of weeks. I plan to watch a bunch of movies I've PVR'd and reread a book that I've read so many times I've lost count. It is called The Blue Castle and is written by L.M. Montgomery, the author of Anne of Green Gables. It is not an important book and probably if many of you read it, you would think it was obvious and silly, but I find it a great comfort. It is funny and romantic and has beautiful descriptions and vivid characters. I suppose I could spend my time reading something more worthwhile (especially something I haven't read so many times I've practically memorized it) but sometimes, you just need a little comfort food!
When I was in university, I always had a sense for exactly how long it would take me to do any sort of task (like writing papers or learning lines -- I did a drama degree, as most of you know). I still seem to work that way. I never seem to be able to get things done way ahead of time, no matter how good my intentions are. It's as if my mind has to sit on an idea for a certain length of time and I can't rush it, even if I want to. I have to wait for things to percolate. Not that the partridge is a particularly big deal -- I don't usually feel the need to prepare a choreographed dance (and I don't believe I could, if I wanted to) like lots of the other teachers do. That's why I have traditionally chosen the partridge -- because there is only so much you can do with just yourself. Maybe over the course of this year, I will plan something very elaborate for next year. But that probably won't happen.
I hope some of you read this over the holiday, because I meant to tell the directing and scriptwriting students to read a short story over the holidays that they would like to adapt into a script. I wanted to remind the senior actors to think about a subject for their rant. I wanted to remind Drama 9/10 to practice their monologues. The day was so chaotic, that all this reminding slipped my mind. Well, I guess 2015 will bring its own needs!
Now we can relax and take it easy for a couple of weeks. I plan to watch a bunch of movies I've PVR'd and reread a book that I've read so many times I've lost count. It is called The Blue Castle and is written by L.M. Montgomery, the author of Anne of Green Gables. It is not an important book and probably if many of you read it, you would think it was obvious and silly, but I find it a great comfort. It is funny and romantic and has beautiful descriptions and vivid characters. I suppose I could spend my time reading something more worthwhile (especially something I haven't read so many times I've practically memorized it) but sometimes, you just need a little comfort food!
Thursday, 18 December 2014
Life is a highway, I want to ride it all night long!
That's an old Tom Cochrane song, in case you didn't know. As most of you know, I've been dealing with some pretty serious medical issues lately and feeling pretty overwhelmed and freaked out. Everyone's been so great with lots of teachers bringing the family dinner (I haven't cooked in a couple of weeks, and it is quite exciting to look into the staff room fridge and see an aluminum foil plate or tupperware with my name on it!) and everyone trying to help in whatever way they can. Most people are really good and kind and don't you forget it. The ones who aren't are missing out and you needn't bother with them.
Mike remains in the hospital and things have been up and down with his surgery and the aftermath and although we are all hopeful and trying to keep things as normal as possible with going to school and all the other responsibilities we have, there are still those dark times when you are trying to read or whatever and you suddenly think what could happen. Usually I long for down time as I get very little, but these days I don't want to sit and stew and would rather be up and about.
I am hoping for a nice quiet holiday with old movies and Charles Dickens and the Christmas tree all lit up and nice things to eat and Mike at home, but if that doesn't work out and he is still in the hospital, we will make the best of things and make sure we get him home before the New Year. 2014 has been a difficult year with these health challenges and the strike and I hope with all my heart that 2015 will be much happier and more peaceful and much less dramatic. Who said "please let me not live in exciting times"? (Or something like that.)
I wish you all the happiest of holidays and all the very best in 2015. I hope it's "veally
good" (a reference to "Fawlty Towers").
Mike remains in the hospital and things have been up and down with his surgery and the aftermath and although we are all hopeful and trying to keep things as normal as possible with going to school and all the other responsibilities we have, there are still those dark times when you are trying to read or whatever and you suddenly think what could happen. Usually I long for down time as I get very little, but these days I don't want to sit and stew and would rather be up and about.
I am hoping for a nice quiet holiday with old movies and Charles Dickens and the Christmas tree all lit up and nice things to eat and Mike at home, but if that doesn't work out and he is still in the hospital, we will make the best of things and make sure we get him home before the New Year. 2014 has been a difficult year with these health challenges and the strike and I hope with all my heart that 2015 will be much happier and more peaceful and much less dramatic. Who said "please let me not live in exciting times"? (Or something like that.)
I wish you all the happiest of holidays and all the very best in 2015. I hope it's "veally
good" (a reference to "Fawlty Towers").
Saturday, 13 December 2014
"Oh, Doris, it's awful!"
There are lots of great lines in "Fawlty Towers", some that make me laugh every time I hear them. The above is one and there are so many others.
I just wanted to thank everyone who has come out to the play and laughed and enjoyed it. It is a lot of hard work to put on a show and it is really gratifying to have such a great response from our audiences. And of course, a huge and heartfelt thank you to everyone, cast and crew, who worked so hard to bring this thing to life. You are all stars to me.
We are holding over the show for one last performance on Monday, December 15 at 1, so if you haven't seen it and want to, here is your chance. We have some seats left so scoot to the theatre before one p.m. and we'll try to squeeze you in.
And now the whirligig of time (a bit of Twelfth Night) brings on his revenge and I must go (to soccer, forsooth!)
I just wanted to thank everyone who has come out to the play and laughed and enjoyed it. It is a lot of hard work to put on a show and it is really gratifying to have such a great response from our audiences. And of course, a huge and heartfelt thank you to everyone, cast and crew, who worked so hard to bring this thing to life. You are all stars to me.
We are holding over the show for one last performance on Monday, December 15 at 1, so if you haven't seen it and want to, here is your chance. We have some seats left so scoot to the theatre before one p.m. and we'll try to squeeze you in.
And now the whirligig of time (a bit of Twelfth Night) brings on his revenge and I must go (to soccer, forsooth!)
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