The Albee Situation

Recently, the estate of the late Edward Albee shut down a production of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" because the production team cast a black actor in one of the roles.

There has been much discussion about this, some of it quite heated.  For me, it comes down to this: To tell his story, Mr. Albee felt it important that his characters be white, and of a certain social-economic level.  It helps if you realize that the play is a period piece, a slice of lives during a particular era.

And Mr. Albee was a lion, as to protecting his work from re-imagining, re-interpretation, and anything else that changed it from what he wrote and intended.

In this case, that would clearly include color blind casting.  It would also include gender swapping, time and place changes, and so on. All the muck that often destroys Shakespeare. But in this instance, his estate was triggered by race.

I understand this. Without getting too far off my intended track, I find it difficult to believe that the production did not understand it as well.

And, as a writer, I support it. As a creator, dealing with other creatives who don't always play respectfully with the toys, I wholeheartedly support it.

My point, however, in bringing this up?

This is a great play, with great parts- and one that is closed to me, as a performer. I could do this. I could absolutely play one of the leads in it. At this point in my life, I have an understanding of the character that I would not have had as a younger man, and not only do I know that I could do this, I know that I could do it well.

And I will never be able to.

Nor will other minorities, or women or anyone other than a white man.

And even though I respect and agree with Albee's choice? Even though I see that the story as he told it does require casting that excludes me?

I mourn the loss.

The thing to do, obviously, is look for other parts, similar parts, parts that exist within a framework that would support my being cast.

I can do that. As an actor, I realize that there are a great many parts out there that aren't suited to me, due to my size, my clumsiness, my key, my sex and my race.

This is just another.  For me and those like me.

Beyond that, however...

It's made me want to direct the play.  Because the director gets to play with ALL the parts. No one will ever see me play them on stage... but I can help other actors realize the part. I can contribute what I feel needs expression, within the story, to another performer, help shape things.  I cannot collaborate with Albee on this- but I can collaborate with others to bring his story to life.

And that?

Well.

You can't always get what you want.

But sometimes you can get what you need.

Be seeing you.

Hate

This has nothing to do with writing- or any specific person, though such will be mentioned. It is more about attitude.

The president of our country made a speech, the other day. Ostensibly to congratulate members of the US Coast Guard, but... a lot of the speech was about his feelings of persecution.  President Trump believes that he has been greatly wronged by the press, and that he is the most abused president, in all ways, in history.

Having read a fair amount of history, I tend to disagree. I think Lincoln, Garfield and Kennedy might have a case for being somewhat more abused, off the top of my head.  Or Mr. Obama and family.

I think that the true issue, for Mr. Trump, is that he has lived in a bubble of protection, for his entire life, and it's been pricked. As a child of privilege, and then later a business owner, he's been surrounded by people who have a vested interest in agreeing with him. From nannies and minders to underlings and hirelings.  He's never really worked for anyone, or worked under anyone, his entire life.  Even when his father ran the business, and Mr. Trump technically worked under him- he was being mentored by his father to be in charge.  And public office- it's as far removed from that as you can imagine, at all levels.

People blame you, personally, for everything. The press and your associates pick at everything you do.

And as president- he's at the top of the pile. The pomp and circumstance, the high on the hog aspects of presidential life... for Trump, this is probably only what he is used to. Parties, meetings with the influential, etc.  But the negatives. this is new.

And I am not without empathy here. Because, regardless of my own feelings regarding Mr. Trump, there is a point to be made here. Which is that... shit has gotten too rough, here in the good old US of A.

In virtually all aspects of life, I see examples of a new harshness. People don't agree to disagree anymore, in general. People don't credit that other person with being basically a decent human being with a different value system or beliefs.

That person is wrong. Not just wrong, but actionably wrong, deserving to be run through with our half witticisms and scorn. Disagree and let it go? NOT HARDLY!!!

I have had a lot of friends with whom I hold pretty basic disagreements. I have supported political candidates from the opposite side of the aisle, when I thought- regardless of party philosophy- that they had good ideas.  I have been a supporter of various religions, though I am as free from religious thought as I can manage, because of the good work done. And I grew up thinking that this sort of compromisability, this common good attitude, was a common thing.

It was what I was taught by my parents, by my kindergarten teacher,  the lovely Romper Room hostess, and Goofus and Gallant, in pediatric waiting rooms.

And it was what a lot of us were taught.  What a lot of us seemed to live by.  I'm sorry, excuse me, of course, not at all, why thank you, you're certainly welcome.  Common courtesy was- with obvious exceptions, such as turning hoses and dogs on people and shooting presidents or starting wars- actually common.

And while I admit to a middle to upper class bubble of protection for the earliest parts of my life, that deflated in the early seventies, and I pushed myself out of it- a second birth, of sorts, in the mid eighties.

Now- from Washington to the work place, compromise, live and let live, it's fallen out of fashion.

Attack! Overwhelm, overcome.

There are certainly times when this attitude is appropriate. When there are things, to mangle a quote, up with which one should not put.

But... should that be everything? Some driver gets confused and makes a bad lane change, or is talking to their passenger at a light, and doesn't move out, right when it changes.  Does that call for multiple long horn blasts and screamed profanity?

We have people getting into arguments in line for something and pulling guns. What. The. Hell.

Gun control isn't the issue- it's how we no longer seem to want to see the other person's view point, or excuse them for random rudeness or bullshit- you never know what's driving them to it.  Instead we go into a rage state and blast away. Whether we shoot or not, it's that same urge.

And I am very curious as to how we got here.  And how we might get back.

Curious and looking for input.

Knock Knock, a spoiler free Doctor Who review. Probably.

One of the problems with this series, from the beginning, was with the villains. The Doctor, basically, is an immortal genius with access to every necessary skill, an inclination to pitch in, and a time machine.

Most of the villains he faces aren't playing par for the course. Greedy humans and aliens, trying for control or power or money?  Not, in the end, very difficult. Not for someone who has defeated a couple of different versions of the devil, various gods, and even rebooted the universe.

So. Villains worth the effort are few and far between. Tending to be made so by sheer dint of the guest star's ability- making a run of the mill moustache twirler memorable- or by the story twisting around and twirling the definition of villain.

Giving us villains who aren't bad as much as misguided, villains who are sympathetic but tragically wrong, and so forth.  Antagonists rather than outright villains.

But. Every so often, they manage to give us a true villain. Someone who can challenge the Doctor, and have evil intent while still being relatable, and...

Fun.

With David Suchet's Landlord,they got a bingo.

A charming older man with a mane of silver hair and a 10th Doctor dress sense, and a nasty turn of behaviour.

Better, he's convinced that he's right, and seems willing to deal the Doctor out- as long as he's left to do what he wants. Sure, people will die. But in the end, they're just people.

The story? Bill, like virtually every companion, is having trouble keeping any part of her life separate from the Doctor.  Once you accept him into your life, he tends to take over. He doesn't sleep much, he goes wandering at all hours, and he wants his companion along.

Bill is moving into a shared house. She's settling in with new friends from the college and wants to make an impression. A cranky Scottish professor -  his current disguise -  who's well known to be a little odd and meddling is the last thing she wants.

Unfortunately... The TARDIS is damned useful for moving day, and the Doctor's a little bored.

The house more than it seems, as is the landlord. Bill just wants a normal day. So does the Doctor. His sort of normal.

You can guess who wins.

Stylish and affecting episode. Another throwback type. This could have easily been the Third Doctor and Jo Grant,  or Sara Jane Smith,  or the Tenth and Donna Noble, for modern fans.

Good bits:

Bill is forced to define her relationship with the Doctor to her friends. The term she chooses is yet another nod to the beginnings of the program, like her name. Which realllllly makes me think something is going to happen that involves those roots. Plus, it's apt.

Bill continues to be proactive and to deflate the Doctor's pomposity. Which they both clearly enjoy, now.

What's in the vault isn't making Nardole happy. Nor is the Doctor's somewhat casual attitude.  We get major clue,  this episode. A couple, actually. I'll leave it to you to sort. But as a guess?

The Doctor's previously mentioned a vow to watch over the vault.

My guess is that he's promised the occupant that he would. Timey Wimey.

9.5 of 10.

A Meditation on Addiction

With the exception of nicotine, I've never been an addict.  Smoking was hell to quit, but I did it, without special gums or other weaning off, 17 years ago. Enjoyed one last Marlboro and stopped. 

Prior to that- I did a lot of interesting things, to be brief, some of them chemical, and when it was time to walk away from that, it wasn't at all difficult for me.  Losing the friends I had in the life was more difficult than the chemistry, and even then... It was really just a matter of wanting a better set of friends.

Well, one friend in particular, but she was a gateway friend. 

Even my old friend caffeine, whenever I have noticed that I was reacting to it- drinking too much- I've been able to cut down without much effort. 

So?

So I know a lot of addicts. A. Lot.  Working in restaurants and farting around in theatre, it was bound to happen, and it certainly has.  And I have seen some things. Some beautiful, some dark, all disturbing. 

Probably we all have. The guy trying to sell me his new BMW for cocaine money*. The girl offering to prostitute herself for the same drug. The waiter who would vanish into the bathroom during a stressful shift and come out, much calmer, teeth stuck to lips, nodding off on a bar stool when things calmed down. I have seen drug dealers hired to tend bar--- to pay off massive debts--- and I have seen people who could not pass up a drink to save their lives. 

With few exceptions- these were basically decent people. Some brighter, some nicer, but no one you would think of as a wretch- on good days- or as some kind of feeble minded, low willpower loser. 

Which has me certain that addiction is due to some sort of genetic malady. Like native Americans, who have no ability to tolerate alcohol.  It's something separate from who people are, mentally, emotionally, physically.  It's something that lurks in them. 

Which, I believe, is scientifically supported. Genetics, biochemistry, yada. 

And so.

I cannot- cannot- believe that our society still looks at these people as weak. Or bad, or some how lesser. Like they have some kind of damned moral flaw. 

Someone loses their  sight, or hearing. Someone gets cancer- we don't treat them like this. We figure- hey, they got sick, no fault of theirs.

Why we cannot extend that to addiction baffles me. I would love to pull a trope from science fiction. Convert every flat, reflective surface in the world to a speaker and broadcast a single message. 

"Addiction is not a fault.  

Whether you can manage it, live with it, or not. Whether, in disease terms, you can go into remission... or it drags you straight to hell?

Addiction is not a fault. It is not your fault. "

Why?

Because I see a lot of people who've bought into what society is constantly telling them. And I see it turning them grey, from the inside out.

And, goddamn it, it has to stop.

To quote Vonnegut- or a quote attributed to him- "Goddamn it, babies. You've GOT to be kind."

Yes. Something triggered this. No, I'm not going to discuss it. 

And so it goes.