Who's The Mann?

There are a few actors whose careers have spanned the decades and whose talent has in some way improved the overall quality of the field. Terrence Mann is one of those who can deservedly be called a "consummate professional". From 1985's movie version of "A Chorus Line", to his numerous originating roles on Broadway, to his most recent work as the otherworldly Bob/Hrothbert on "The Dresden Files", he's shown a remarkable ability to adapt to (and succeed in) any medium--even lending his voice to a few animated series and audiobooks. (Admittedly some of the movies he's appeared in are less than stellar, but that shouldn't be considered a reflection on his acting skills.)

Why am I saying this? Someone recently uploaded a sort of "overview" of his work throughout the years, prompting me to mention it here. I hadn't actually noticed just how many roles he originated on Broadway: Rum Tum Tugger in CATS, Javert in Les Miserables, and Chauvelin in The Scarlet Pimpernel to name a few.

I had the honor of meeting him while he was working at The Scarlet Pimpernel, a show with tremendous potential that was never really given the chance to show how good it could be. (Pick up the original Broadway soundtrack sometime--you won't regret it.) Not only is he a talented actor, he was also quite gracious to the throng of people crowded around him. It's good to know there are still folks out there who can take their work seriously without taking themselves too seriously. For your convenience, here's the clip:

Remembering 9/11

I'm sure everyone remembers where they were when the horrific news starting pouring out of New York. I was just waking up, preparing for the second day of my Junior year at college when the first tower was hit. I relayed everything via IM to a friend of mine who had no TV in her dorm until I left for class. Driving to school in northern New Jersey, I could see smoke billowing into the sky.

Every TV in the Brothers College building was on, and every class had been let go--except mine. (The professor felt an attempt at normalcy was mandatory to prevent hysteria, although whether he was right is still up for debate.) We all assembled in the gymnasium at noon to hear our university president give a speech, not knowing he would later head the 9/11 Commission. Those with friends and family in or near the Towers waited by a large TV that had been set up as they frantically tried to send a phone call through the soot- and ash-clogged New York air. All of a sudden, the largely apathetic student body actually cared about something. At that time, no one knew who Osama bin Laden was or why he wanted to destroy America, but I think by that afternoon we all knew America would never be the same again.

In the end, I suppose it doesn't matter where we were or what we felt when it happened. What matters is what we've done about it in the years that followed. Some decisions have been life-affirming, some disastrous, but through it all we mustn't let the slogan we've all come to know become a mere platitude: Never Forget. Those who lost their lives--whether in the Towers, the Pentagon, on the planes, or from health issues as a result of breathing the toxic air--deserve to be remembered not just as victims of a heinous crime, but as human beings who loved and lived.

Shortly after September 11th I attended an informal concert at the Nyack Seaport. It was one in a series of such intimate performances my family had subscribed to, and the first one to take place after the tragedy (the previous two had been canceled because no one felt like singing.) Our small group gathered as usual, but a number of chairs remained conspicuously empty; many subscribers were businessmen who often completed transactions in the financial district. A large picture window lined one side of the tiny room, giving all assembled a perfect view of the Hudson River and the wounded skyline beyond. In the midst of this surrealistic, numbing horror, one of the performers chose a song from "The Fantasticks" that reaches through the years to capture the moment perfectly, even now:

Try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh, so mellow.
Try to remember the kind of September
When grass was green and grain was yellow.
Try to remember the kind of September
When you were a tender and callow fellow.
Try to remember, and if you remember,
Then follow.

Try to remember when life was so tender
That no one wept except the willow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
That dreams were kept beside your pillow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
That love was an ember about to billow.
Try to remember, and if you remember,
Then follow.

Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
Although you know the snow will follow.
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
Without a hurt the heart is hollow.
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
The fire of September that made us mellow.
Deep in December, our hearts should remember
And follow.

A Day In The Life

Ken Levine's back with a post describing a typical day for him and David Isaacs as they come up with a new sitcom script. The process is a fascinating snapshot of a comedy writer's life as they draw on 34 years of experience to churn out idea after idea.

I'd love to attend Levine's Sitcom Room workshop, but my work focuses more on movies and plays. The few ideas I have for television are strictly drama; plus, I don't live anywhere near California. I admire anyone who can write good, solid comedy--a talent that seems to be woefully lacking from many present-day shows.

The Irate Gamer

A short while ago YouTube featured the videos of a user called "The Irate Gamer". A film editor from Ohio, he reviews the old NES video games that lacked a good plot, decent controls, or just plain didn't make sense. Putting his editing talent to use, he combines some perceptive observations with special effects to make a fairly entertaining clip. It was reassuring to find out someone shared my pain playing Back to the Future in the 1980s.

A couple of caveats: first, HE SWEARS LIKE A SAILOR. (I'm not kidding.) Second, his humor occasionally hovers around toilet level, every frat boy's delight. Still, if you can overlook these unfortunate qualities, anyone who's suffered through more than their share of horribly written NES games will know exactly what he's talking about.

For the record, I couldn't get that damn song from the video game out of my head for three years. Yes, I counted. And he's right--it never was in the movie.

36 Madison Avenue

I was browsing YouTube for videos shot at my alma mater and came across a number of clips featuring the three acapella groups on campus. Of the three, 36 Madison Avenue (or simply "Mad Ave") has always been the most organized and had the most talent; this would probably explain why they keep popping up at the ICCA every year. Seeing them sing again brought back some wonderful memories, even if I don't recognize any of the faces anymore. Here's a clip of them at this year's ICCA:

I also came across a clip of Drew's Jamnation 2006 at the Baldwin Gym, where the visiting Fordham University's Ramblers gave their rendition of the popular--if strange--Dragostea Din Tei (or, the "Numa Numa Song"). The clip's author apologizes for cutting off the last few seconds, but you get to see nearly all of it:

If you're a fan of college acapella or of seeing folks having a blast onstage, these clips have plenty of both.

Alan Wake

For a couple of years now, Remedy Games has been working on what they call a "psychological action thriller" titled Alan Wake (you can view the trailer here). It's been featured at the last three E3 Expos, each time giving fans a glimpse of what the game will look like when it actually comes out; there's no set date as to when it will be released, Remedy claiming only that it will be out "when it's done".

There are a number of things I find fascinating about this game. I'm always a sucker for a game with a well developed plot, and Alan Wake promises to deliver an intriguing story (after over three years in development, I would certainly hope it has one.) Remedy claims the game will be far more character-driven than their other well-known titles--namely, Max Payne and Grand Theft Auto. Considering my interest in those titles is set firmly below 0%, my expectations are high.

Light is supposed to play an integral part in the game, which is fairly unique. Remedy has already said one of the greatest weapons in Alan's arsenal will be a flashlight. This brings a special meaning to the traditional "light vs. dark" war.

Supposedly everything in the game has meaning. Even Alan's name ties in with the game's theme: the tagline is "I Am Awake", from which the developers came up with "A. Wake" (or Alan Wake.)

The funny part is, depending on how violent the game turns out, I may not actually even play it. I'm more of an adventure and puzzle-solving fan, and have always preferred the experience of progressing through a storyline over the gameplay itself. I'm not even really a fan of the survivor-horror genre, I'm just intrigued by the stories behind a few of the games. As a result, I'll sometimes trawl YouTube to look for cutscenes and endings of games I deem too graphic or violent to actually play; that way I can satisfy my curiosity of the plotline while avoiding the resulting nightmares. (Hey, it worked for me with Silent Hill.)

Then again, this may all be a moot point if they keep putting off the release date. Right now it's set for Spring 2008, but as they've already told us: it'll be ready "when it's done".

Speaking of Rejection...

Looks like I'm not the only one thinking about it. Ken Levine recently dedicated an entire post to the subject--the antagonist and biggest (though not always worst) fear of every writer. He stresses the importance for moving on when your script gets rejected, and how writers will benefit from "a thick skin, belief in themselves, and five times a week therapy".

The confusing and notoriously temperamental world of Hollywood/Broadway means that your script can be too long and too short at the same time, one of many possible contradictions. Like acting, sometimes it's just a matter of being in the right place at the right time, so taking things personally in the business makes as much sense as repeatedly sticking your hand in a garbage disposal and expecting to pull it out without a scratch.

Of course, it's inevitably more complicated than that. Then again, Levine notes that some of the people who rejected his scripts are now asking him for a job. As they say, living well is the best revenge...

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