what I imagine
the Titanic of monologues
would be...
so I've been reading all about
The Killing of a Chinese Bookie
and watching
said film.
Cassavetes always
makes me feel better, which
means
more human.
Oh my it was just terrible.
Putting the harm back in harmony since May 2007.
2 comments:
Sorry to hear it didn't go well. But maybe the movie earned back a little interest from the audience?
Were you the one who played the clown?
You should listen to Mingus' "The Clown" the next time you feel determined to think back on how much that bombed.
I thought of a title for the new manuscript, by the way. "The Undesirable Being of Lightness". When your clown dropped his teeth in the lap of that guy in the front row, I think this was the very phrase he was trying to get out. Oh well, right? On to the next one...
Picture this... a theater half filled with med students who were still in their scrubs and face masks . . . then, some NYC hipsters . . . plus interested friends and family.
So the clown manager walks out and starts improvising . . . and then consults the notes and starts from the top, essentially repeating his improve, only with notes. He reverses every idea, so instead of saying the movie was made, he says it wasn't made. And instead of saying he's "for" the small, he says he's "against."
It was a majestic failure . . . the med students were horrified, the hipsters were in love with the whole thing, and I was laughing, sweating, and crouching down in my seat.
And it went on and on and on. He performed every word and threw in his own jokes.
Mr. Sophistication, live and in the flesh.
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