...is air conditioning. Well, to be a bit more precise, it's climate control, as indoor heating is pretty goddamn sweet in the winter. But right now, air conditioning is king, as I've finally buckled under and bought a unit for my room.
As for why I spent so long without one, I think the biggest reason is because I have a roommate who's the best friend I have here, and she's...well, not the richest person in the world. I, being relatively well off, didn't want to flaunt it or anything, so I decided that as long as she didn't have one, I could live without one too.
I don't mean to say I decided as in I actively thought about it, it was a bit unconscious and it's only now, when I bought a unit and was thinking about why I hadn't bought one yet that I hit on that reason. Anyways.
So now I have air conditioning and life is good again. I also finally got in touch with a certain someone who I'd love to date and get to know...but I'm not quite sure if I'm getting blown off or not. She says she's busy, which I can completely understand, but at the same time...does it really take all that much time to have coffee or a drink with someone? I mean, if you were interested in someone and they asked you out for a drink, couldn't you make the time?
I don't know. I'm pretty out of the loop when it comes to dating in general. I just hate that you can't be straight up with people, that you always have to wonder what people mean when they say they're busy. That you can't just say, "Hey, I'm really really REALLY attracted to you and hope you are to me, but if you're not, please just say so so I can get on with things and stop wasting our time." Not that I'm not getting on with things anyways, because you can't (or shouldn't, at least) make your own happiness contingent on having someone in your life. If you can't be happy alone, you can't be happy in a relationship. No, I just hate checking my mail and hoping there's going to be something from her and seeing nothing.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Monday, August 01, 2005
Back to civilization
Yes, finally back in New York. I'd been away so long I actually forgot the code to get in the front door (there's a security panel that lets you buzz the apartment if you're delivering something, or you can tap in a code and the door unlocks). Luckily, another tenant was coming in and I just slipped in behind them. I've started cleaning out the piles of papers and things that had accumulated in my room; another few days of tossing out trash and it should look decent in here. Stopped by the network and caught the last episode of Morty's, as well as snagging the other two episodes on dvd - they're probably the best we've done yet. That tends to be pretty typical for sitcoms, I think; the first season is an odd mash of episodes that have moments, but on the whole are not as good as the series can be if it continues, and has the necessary talent. Most of the first seasons of great sitcoms I've watched have been eminently forgettable. Not that I rank Morty's with those shows necessarily, it's just an observation about sitcoms.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
So why did I go?
Why indeed. I don't really know, just as I don't know why we still talk. I enjoy talking to her, I suppose. There is a comfort level there that you reach with people you know for long periods of time. And I really do owe her quite a bit, not in the sense that I feel beholden to her, but in that I can recognize that dating her was a huge turning point in my life, one that changed me (for the better, I believe), and which set me on the path I walk today.
But that's still not a reason why I'm in touch with her, why it's not too painful for me.
Most of the time I'm pretty sure I'm over her. Every now and then, I do find myself thinking about her, or missing her.
I think it's fear.
I spend a lot of my life afraid. Sometimes I think my life is characterized by fear. In this case, fear that I will never find someone who will love me like that, who I love back.
Even now, fear holds me back - and maybe it's the reason why I still talk to Ursula. It's all the things left unsaid because of fear - because I know that ignorance really is bliss, that there are some things you are better off not knowing, not because it's good to lie to yourself, but because sometimes the truth can really fuck you up.
I don't know when we broke up. I don't know when Ursula and Brian started dating. I don't know when she first felt attracted to him. I've never asked. She's said she never cheated on me. Can I believe that? I've never explicitly found out these details, and it has to be at least partially because I'm afraid of what the answer might be. I do know that when I came home in June of 2002, we were still nominally together. I went back to New York soon after, and a few months later she was engaged.
Seems quick, doesn't it?
I hope she hasn't made a mistake. But there's a little part of me that hopes she HAS made a mistake, that this ends badly and that she realizes hey, what I had was better. I'm not proud of that, but neither will I hide from it.
It also seems incredibly pretentious and presumptuous to say, "I hope she hasn't made a mistake". Who the hell am I to judge other people's mistakes? I've made more than my fair share, and I'm nowhere near done. The day I stop making mistakes will likely be the day I die.
But it's ok to make those mistakes, I think - it is those mistakes that tend to define us as humans. I was kicking around a theory a month or so ago that the person you are is formed at the end of high school; that for the most part, that is the person you will remain for the rest of your life. That's why so many people remain stuck in that moment, with the same issues and the same lives. I mentioned it to a friend, and she replied that she felt it was a cop-out; an excuse to repeat the same mistakes over and over again.
She's right.
But I'm still not convinced that you can change some things about yourself. Some aspects, yes, some aspects, no. Take alcoholism. You can choose to fight it, to not drink, but it will always be there and it will always color the way you see things - it is a part of you. But, and this is where I stand today, just because success isn't guaranteed, it does not follow that you shouldn't try. It may not be logical to try when there is no chance of success, but humans are not logical creatures, nor should they strive to be in every facet of their lives. If anything, it is the reach for perfection while being fully cognisant of the impossibility of its attainment that is, to me, the simplest truth in life.
So, I'm afraid to ask Ursula those questions. I don't want to upset her, I don't want to upset myself. But maybe it would be better to get those things out. And maybe she's afraid too - maybe that's why she stays in touch with me, out of a sense of guilt for having betrayed me either physically or emotionally. I guess there's only one way to find out.
But that's still not a reason why I'm in touch with her, why it's not too painful for me.
Most of the time I'm pretty sure I'm over her. Every now and then, I do find myself thinking about her, or missing her.
I think it's fear.
I spend a lot of my life afraid. Sometimes I think my life is characterized by fear. In this case, fear that I will never find someone who will love me like that, who I love back.
Even now, fear holds me back - and maybe it's the reason why I still talk to Ursula. It's all the things left unsaid because of fear - because I know that ignorance really is bliss, that there are some things you are better off not knowing, not because it's good to lie to yourself, but because sometimes the truth can really fuck you up.
I don't know when we broke up. I don't know when Ursula and Brian started dating. I don't know when she first felt attracted to him. I've never asked. She's said she never cheated on me. Can I believe that? I've never explicitly found out these details, and it has to be at least partially because I'm afraid of what the answer might be. I do know that when I came home in June of 2002, we were still nominally together. I went back to New York soon after, and a few months later she was engaged.
Seems quick, doesn't it?
I hope she hasn't made a mistake. But there's a little part of me that hopes she HAS made a mistake, that this ends badly and that she realizes hey, what I had was better. I'm not proud of that, but neither will I hide from it.
It also seems incredibly pretentious and presumptuous to say, "I hope she hasn't made a mistake". Who the hell am I to judge other people's mistakes? I've made more than my fair share, and I'm nowhere near done. The day I stop making mistakes will likely be the day I die.
But it's ok to make those mistakes, I think - it is those mistakes that tend to define us as humans. I was kicking around a theory a month or so ago that the person you are is formed at the end of high school; that for the most part, that is the person you will remain for the rest of your life. That's why so many people remain stuck in that moment, with the same issues and the same lives. I mentioned it to a friend, and she replied that she felt it was a cop-out; an excuse to repeat the same mistakes over and over again.
She's right.
But I'm still not convinced that you can change some things about yourself. Some aspects, yes, some aspects, no. Take alcoholism. You can choose to fight it, to not drink, but it will always be there and it will always color the way you see things - it is a part of you. But, and this is where I stand today, just because success isn't guaranteed, it does not follow that you shouldn't try. It may not be logical to try when there is no chance of success, but humans are not logical creatures, nor should they strive to be in every facet of their lives. If anything, it is the reach for perfection while being fully cognisant of the impossibility of its attainment that is, to me, the simplest truth in life.
So, I'm afraid to ask Ursula those questions. I don't want to upset her, I don't want to upset myself. But maybe it would be better to get those things out. And maybe she's afraid too - maybe that's why she stays in touch with me, out of a sense of guilt for having betrayed me either physically or emotionally. I guess there's only one way to find out.
Back in the C.A.N.A......da
Ok, so Canada isn't as catchy as the USSR. Who would have guessed?
Asia was...interesting. Something I've been aware of for several years now is the increasing homogenity (wonder if that's spelled right) of the world - that is to say, no matter where you go in the world, cities always feel very similar. You're always seeing the same brands, the same fast food restaurants and the same daily routine. And I suppose part of the reason why it was that way was because most of the cities I went to are ones where a foreign influence has been around for quite some time. But another part of it is the whole globalization thing. I don't really feel like typing out a pile of crap about that because there's authors who are far more informed than me who've written at much greater length than I could, and I don't feel positively or negatively about it - it's just a reality of the world today.
If anything else, it is the character of the people that sets Asia apart. The density of people I was somewhat prepared for by living in New York. It's worse in Asia, of course, but walking through Times Square during a peak time is a decent approximation of walking around in Asia. What's different is how the people approach it: with a passive-aggressiveness which seems inherent in Asian culture. The concept of lining up seems to be an alien one, unless there's a strong Western influence in the city; lines are replaced by amorphous mobs, waving their money or tickets. Driving is handled somewhat similarly, with only a cursory amount of homage paid to the elements of the road which keep order on the streets of North America; signs, traffic lights, even lanes. It's quite an experience seeing a 3 lane expressway turn into 5 lanes, let me tell you.
Of course, we did the two main tourist-type things: the terracotta warriors and the Great Wall. It's difficult to put into words what it's like to be in those places. The history of the area is something that dwarfs your imagination and your sense of being, especially coming from such a culturally infantile area as North America. It is humbling to stand somewhere and to know that hundreds or thousands of years earlier, someone else stood in that exact place - someone with their own set of hopes, dreams and fears. It is a realization that makes you both small and huge all at once - to know that you are not unique, that you are both a part of the human organism and an individual, one given a degree of choice that no previous generation has ever been afforded.
I also went to Ursula's wedding last night; I have some jumbled thoughts on that I can dump, but I think I'll put them in a different post.
Asia was...interesting. Something I've been aware of for several years now is the increasing homogenity (wonder if that's spelled right) of the world - that is to say, no matter where you go in the world, cities always feel very similar. You're always seeing the same brands, the same fast food restaurants and the same daily routine. And I suppose part of the reason why it was that way was because most of the cities I went to are ones where a foreign influence has been around for quite some time. But another part of it is the whole globalization thing. I don't really feel like typing out a pile of crap about that because there's authors who are far more informed than me who've written at much greater length than I could, and I don't feel positively or negatively about it - it's just a reality of the world today.
If anything else, it is the character of the people that sets Asia apart. The density of people I was somewhat prepared for by living in New York. It's worse in Asia, of course, but walking through Times Square during a peak time is a decent approximation of walking around in Asia. What's different is how the people approach it: with a passive-aggressiveness which seems inherent in Asian culture. The concept of lining up seems to be an alien one, unless there's a strong Western influence in the city; lines are replaced by amorphous mobs, waving their money or tickets. Driving is handled somewhat similarly, with only a cursory amount of homage paid to the elements of the road which keep order on the streets of North America; signs, traffic lights, even lanes. It's quite an experience seeing a 3 lane expressway turn into 5 lanes, let me tell you.
Of course, we did the two main tourist-type things: the terracotta warriors and the Great Wall. It's difficult to put into words what it's like to be in those places. The history of the area is something that dwarfs your imagination and your sense of being, especially coming from such a culturally infantile area as North America. It is humbling to stand somewhere and to know that hundreds or thousands of years earlier, someone else stood in that exact place - someone with their own set of hopes, dreams and fears. It is a realization that makes you both small and huge all at once - to know that you are not unique, that you are both a part of the human organism and an individual, one given a degree of choice that no previous generation has ever been afforded.
I also went to Ursula's wedding last night; I have some jumbled thoughts on that I can dump, but I think I'll put them in a different post.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Postpostpostpostpostpostpost
Yeah, been a while. Not much has been happening, though that's about to change. This week I'll be shooting the last 3 episodes of Morty's for the season, and the dubbing will be next week. Then at the end of the week I'm flying back to TO to meet up with my younger brother, after which we will be joining my dad in Taiwan. Not really excited about it yet, focusing more on the things I have to do this week, but it's definitely going to be interesting.
When I get back from the trip, I'm also going to be going to my ex-girlfriend (Ursula)'s wedding. I suppose it's odd that I'm still even in touch with her to begin with. Honestly, I can't really say why we stay in contact. People have asked why, and my only response is, why not? Our breakup wasn't particularly acrimonious (as such things go), it just sort of...was.
Anyways, the point I wanted to make about going to the wedding is that the oddest thing for me so far has been the juxtaposition of that circumstance with my current one. I mean, marriage was something that we had discussed in passing (I suppose, as all young couples in love do), and I had a clear moment when I made the decision to return to New York, which I guess was the signal to her that I was breaking up with her, or that it was time for her to break up with me. So I honestly believe that it could have been me standing across from her at the altar. That life could have been mine. It's somewhat like the experience of looking up the people you went to high school or college with, and finding out that the majority of them are married, or are starting to have kids, while the very concept of having and raising a child at this age scares the living bejeezus out of me. Not that I'm averse to baby talk, or what-you-want-to-name-your-kids conversations, it's being up to the responsibility that comes with raising a child to be an intelligent, useful member of society that terrifies me. Anyways, finding out that all those people have already moved on to that point in their lives is the sort of thing that tends to freak you out in a very general sense. As I am right now, I don't want to be married. And yet, had I made my choices differently in life, I might not only want to be married, but I might be getting married in 4 weeks, or I might even already be married.
It's pretty possible though, now that I think about it, that even if I'd chosen to stay in Canada for the summer and work on my relationship, it still would have ended when I returned to New York. Perhaps that would have made this seem a little less like an episode of The Twilight Zone. But perhaps not - and I'll never know, because that choice has already been made. I'm sure there will be other times when I'll wonder what might have been, and I wonder if she ever has those thoughts.
When I get back from the trip, I'm also going to be going to my ex-girlfriend (Ursula)'s wedding. I suppose it's odd that I'm still even in touch with her to begin with. Honestly, I can't really say why we stay in contact. People have asked why, and my only response is, why not? Our breakup wasn't particularly acrimonious (as such things go), it just sort of...was.
Anyways, the point I wanted to make about going to the wedding is that the oddest thing for me so far has been the juxtaposition of that circumstance with my current one. I mean, marriage was something that we had discussed in passing (I suppose, as all young couples in love do), and I had a clear moment when I made the decision to return to New York, which I guess was the signal to her that I was breaking up with her, or that it was time for her to break up with me. So I honestly believe that it could have been me standing across from her at the altar. That life could have been mine. It's somewhat like the experience of looking up the people you went to high school or college with, and finding out that the majority of them are married, or are starting to have kids, while the very concept of having and raising a child at this age scares the living bejeezus out of me. Not that I'm averse to baby talk, or what-you-want-to-name-your-kids conversations, it's being up to the responsibility that comes with raising a child to be an intelligent, useful member of society that terrifies me. Anyways, finding out that all those people have already moved on to that point in their lives is the sort of thing that tends to freak you out in a very general sense. As I am right now, I don't want to be married. And yet, had I made my choices differently in life, I might not only want to be married, but I might be getting married in 4 weeks, or I might even already be married.
It's pretty possible though, now that I think about it, that even if I'd chosen to stay in Canada for the summer and work on my relationship, it still would have ended when I returned to New York. Perhaps that would have made this seem a little less like an episode of The Twilight Zone. But perhaps not - and I'll never know, because that choice has already been made. I'm sure there will be other times when I'll wonder what might have been, and I wonder if she ever has those thoughts.
Friday, May 20, 2005
I'm a Google!
Well, not me per se, but UMDS is. Yes, the other day I was at the netowork and Jimbo got an e-mail mentioning that Uncle Morty's had been mentioned on a few blogs...clicky! And clicky again! Yeahhhhhhhh!
On an unrelated note, I noticed that this title and the last one both have exclamation marks in them. I don't really have anything to explain this sudden burst of exclamatory joie d'esprit, I guess I'm just in a good mood when typing these. Or maybe it's because they come so infrequently I like to infuse them with a little extra oomph.
On an unrelated note, I noticed that this title and the last one both have exclamation marks in them. I don't really have anything to explain this sudden burst of exclamatory joie d'esprit, I guess I'm just in a good mood when typing these. Or maybe it's because they come so infrequently I like to infuse them with a little extra oomph.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Free to go to the land of Make Believe!
Well, another semester in the books. Only failed one class this semester (I think), which I'm pretty sure is enough of an improvement that they won't kick me out.
Been listening a lot to Weezer's new album, Make Believe - like the first album they put out, it's just a really strong album, with some catchy hooks and tunes you'll find yourself humming randomly. Also recently bought a Fred Astaire album and the original cast recording of the revival of The Pirates of Penzance; both brilliant as well.
The Uncle Morty's website has been updated; there's a new design, an episode guide and bios, as well as downloads; I'm a wallpaper!
Nothing really deep to say. Been working my way through The World is Flat, by Thomas Friedman (saw him plugging it on Real Time w/ Bill Maher one night), and it's interesting; now that my classes are fully over I should be able to finish it off pretty quickly.
Been listening a lot to Weezer's new album, Make Believe - like the first album they put out, it's just a really strong album, with some catchy hooks and tunes you'll find yourself humming randomly. Also recently bought a Fred Astaire album and the original cast recording of the revival of The Pirates of Penzance; both brilliant as well.
The Uncle Morty's website has been updated; there's a new design, an episode guide and bios, as well as downloads; I'm a wallpaper!
Nothing really deep to say. Been working my way through The World is Flat, by Thomas Friedman (saw him plugging it on Real Time w/ Bill Maher one night), and it's interesting; now that my classes are fully over I should be able to finish it off pretty quickly.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Ping Pong Diplomacy
Ping Pong Diplomacy is the title of the play that I just did the reading of yesterday, part of Reverie Productions's new play contest (now in its second year). As I indicated previously, I had some misgivings about the script, but it's sort of grown on me, probably at least partially helped by the audience (such as it was; probably about 10-12 people) reaction to the reading. It really is quite a cute script, though perhaps a touch long (the reading was about 2 hours), but some of that could be tightened through staging. The winner of Reverie's contest will be announced on June 8th or so, at which time they're also going to be reading new plays by Tony Kushner (Angels in America) and Greg Kotis (Urinetown), which I would LOVE to make it to but I think I'll be out of town and getting ready for my trip to Asia.
The reading itself went pretty well; I was actually quite pleased with my own performance. As I said, audience reaction was fantastic, and there was only one real hiccup, when one of the actors completely broke down in a scene with a case of the giggles. The audience was laughing, and he just started laughing too, and as anyone who's ever been in that situation can testify, it's pretty much impossible to stop once you've started, sort of like "I Love to Laugh" in Mary Poppins. Of course, then the question becomes, what do you do when you're one of the other actors in the scene (which I was). I mean, we're not on stage - we're reading off scripts, and people understand (or they should, at least) that it's not a performance. And yet, there is an element of professionalism which should be maintained, I feel. So, I kept character and just tried to wait it out. The other actor struggled through the scene and his giggles as best he could, losing it a few more times, but eventually making it through. In any event, it was a great experience and another chance to make connections with another production company, and I certainly wish the best of luck to the playwright, Joe Basque.
I'm trying very hard not to get caught up in the Episode 3 (Star Wars) hype. I'll probably go see it in theaters, but I'm trying to avoid information about it as much as possible. I really want to try to just watch it and enjoy it as best I can. I don't even really think about it all that much, and I seem to somehow magically be able to avoid the brunt of the media campaign for it - I see more Batman Begins (which I'm also looking forward to) ads than I see Episode 3 ads.
And the shower just opened up, so I need to run in there and do my hair really fast.
The reading itself went pretty well; I was actually quite pleased with my own performance. As I said, audience reaction was fantastic, and there was only one real hiccup, when one of the actors completely broke down in a scene with a case of the giggles. The audience was laughing, and he just started laughing too, and as anyone who's ever been in that situation can testify, it's pretty much impossible to stop once you've started, sort of like "I Love to Laugh" in Mary Poppins. Of course, then the question becomes, what do you do when you're one of the other actors in the scene (which I was). I mean, we're not on stage - we're reading off scripts, and people understand (or they should, at least) that it's not a performance. And yet, there is an element of professionalism which should be maintained, I feel. So, I kept character and just tried to wait it out. The other actor struggled through the scene and his giggles as best he could, losing it a few more times, but eventually making it through. In any event, it was a great experience and another chance to make connections with another production company, and I certainly wish the best of luck to the playwright, Joe Basque.
I'm trying very hard not to get caught up in the Episode 3 (Star Wars) hype. I'll probably go see it in theaters, but I'm trying to avoid information about it as much as possible. I really want to try to just watch it and enjoy it as best I can. I don't even really think about it all that much, and I seem to somehow magically be able to avoid the brunt of the media campaign for it - I see more Batman Begins (which I'm also looking forward to) ads than I see Episode 3 ads.
And the shower just opened up, so I need to run in there and do my hair really fast.
Friday, April 29, 2005
More Morty
So this past week has been pretty much a blur, shooting on every day except Wednesday. I also skipped my last class for one course, and haven't written the final for that - the professor (one of the nicer ones I've had) sent me a mail about that. I told him I'd get it to him ASAP, which I really am planning on doing...once I read the book I'm supposed to read for it. Well, re-read, I did read it but I can't really remember the pertinent details for the paper I need to write.
I also got called to audition for a reading for a play that was entered in a new play contest this company runs that's in the same building as Pan Asian Rep is in (let me re-read that sentence to make sure it makes sense...not quite, had to add a word or two and it's still a pretty horrible sentence. Let me try that again)
So, a while ago (about a year now, I guess - no, 2?...no, 1 year, winter/spring 2004) I did a play called KWATZ!: The Tibetan Project with Pan Asian Repertory Theater, which is the oldest Asian-American theater company in New York. The company's office is in this building on 8th Avenue which has offices and such all throughout it, as such buildings are wont to do. For whatever reason, there are several other theater companies which also have their offices in the building. One of them - Reverie Productions - runs a new play festival, and they called me and asked me (after getting my number from Pan Asian) to read for a play they have.
The biggest thing to draw from this, of course, is the business aspect. In the arts, you're told so much about your talent and about working on your craft. But in the end, when you want to make a living, it comes down to who you know - the personal contacts you gain as your career unfolds. These people become important because they will (hopefully) call you when they have projects that come up that you'd be good for, or if they talk to someone who needs someone that fits your description, they can volunteer you. Really, that's all an agent is - though an agent doesn't even have to like you to get you work. I'm sure it would help, but I'm also sure it's not necessary. You probably don't have to like your agent either, as long as you're getting jobs and getting paid (and thus, so are they). It probably wouldn't be the healthiest relationship, nor would it be fantastic for your career, but it wouldn't make any difference as to whether or not you were making a living. And I don't mean to say that talent and ability make no difference - even with a contact you do need to read or do whatever for whoever's in charge, just so they can see and make sure you fit - rather that it isn't really the most important factor. I knew plenty of people in school who were more talented than me, but I'm pretty sure I've done work that all of them combined, because a lot of them lacked the drive to really apply themselves and work to get jobs acting.
The play itself is ok. It's no Angels in America (but then, how many plays are); it's a cute play about these two people who fall in love, one of whom is an American ping pong player and the other being a Chinese ping pong player. It's set mostly in the 70s, with China just opening up again, and there's a number of cute little references to the differences between the two cultures. On the whole, it's a bit obvious, especially in terms of the whole, "Oh, if China were a democracy it would be so much better" premise, but I'm fairly certain that the playwright is not Chinese, so that's not too much of a surprise. That's not to say that the premise is wrong, simply that there's a lot more to it than just making the place a democracy. When the Soviet Union collapsed and Russia became a democracy, I'm not too sure that the citizens were better off immediately - even today, I really don't know if they're in a better situation. The same goes for the people in Iraq today - yes, they have a democracy. But aside from moral and intellectual platitudes, are they really better off today? Maybe, but maybe not.
I also have a bit of an issue with the fact that the American is male and the Chinese player is a woman, mainly because it's a stereotype (not quite the perfect term, but it'll server) you see continually in entertainment. It's ok for a Caucasian male to romance and pursue an Asian female, but how often do you see an Asian male paired romantically with a Caucasian female? Aside from stories of that Anna chick and the King of Siam - that includes musical versions and movies. I remember reading a comment - I'm pretty sure it was in a magazine article of some kind, though I can't remember which - that in literature and entertainment, the sexual power of Asian males ranks somewhere below Caucasian females and above retarded people. Asian guys just are not seen as sexy.
Can you tell I'm a little bitter about that? I suppose I am. It's just frustrating to always see the same type of roles over and over, to be asked to play that same character over and over. The solution, I suppose, is for Asian writers to write roles that are not these same archtypes - you see these efforts in recent movies like Better Luck Tomorrow and Harold and Kumar, and in the plays of David Henry Hwang - most of which you can only read, as they don't tend to be produced too often. In fact, I've never seen them being done aside from the original Broadway productions, most of which were in the late 70s and 80s. But for me, and for many other minority actors out there, it seems that the only way to get the role that you really really want is to write it for yourself. That's something I've been wanting to do for a long time, and which a couple people have asked me about/nudged me towards, but I keep running up against the same block: I don't have a clue what the hell to write about. Maybe someday I'll run into it, but for now I guess I'm stuck playing these roles.
I also got called to audition for a reading for a play that was entered in a new play contest this company runs that's in the same building as Pan Asian Rep is in (let me re-read that sentence to make sure it makes sense...not quite, had to add a word or two and it's still a pretty horrible sentence. Let me try that again)
So, a while ago (about a year now, I guess - no, 2?...no, 1 year, winter/spring 2004) I did a play called KWATZ!: The Tibetan Project with Pan Asian Repertory Theater, which is the oldest Asian-American theater company in New York. The company's office is in this building on 8th Avenue which has offices and such all throughout it, as such buildings are wont to do. For whatever reason, there are several other theater companies which also have their offices in the building. One of them - Reverie Productions - runs a new play festival, and they called me and asked me (after getting my number from Pan Asian) to read for a play they have.
The biggest thing to draw from this, of course, is the business aspect. In the arts, you're told so much about your talent and about working on your craft. But in the end, when you want to make a living, it comes down to who you know - the personal contacts you gain as your career unfolds. These people become important because they will (hopefully) call you when they have projects that come up that you'd be good for, or if they talk to someone who needs someone that fits your description, they can volunteer you. Really, that's all an agent is - though an agent doesn't even have to like you to get you work. I'm sure it would help, but I'm also sure it's not necessary. You probably don't have to like your agent either, as long as you're getting jobs and getting paid (and thus, so are they). It probably wouldn't be the healthiest relationship, nor would it be fantastic for your career, but it wouldn't make any difference as to whether or not you were making a living. And I don't mean to say that talent and ability make no difference - even with a contact you do need to read or do whatever for whoever's in charge, just so they can see and make sure you fit - rather that it isn't really the most important factor. I knew plenty of people in school who were more talented than me, but I'm pretty sure I've done work that all of them combined, because a lot of them lacked the drive to really apply themselves and work to get jobs acting.
The play itself is ok. It's no Angels in America (but then, how many plays are); it's a cute play about these two people who fall in love, one of whom is an American ping pong player and the other being a Chinese ping pong player. It's set mostly in the 70s, with China just opening up again, and there's a number of cute little references to the differences between the two cultures. On the whole, it's a bit obvious, especially in terms of the whole, "Oh, if China were a democracy it would be so much better" premise, but I'm fairly certain that the playwright is not Chinese, so that's not too much of a surprise. That's not to say that the premise is wrong, simply that there's a lot more to it than just making the place a democracy. When the Soviet Union collapsed and Russia became a democracy, I'm not too sure that the citizens were better off immediately - even today, I really don't know if they're in a better situation. The same goes for the people in Iraq today - yes, they have a democracy. But aside from moral and intellectual platitudes, are they really better off today? Maybe, but maybe not.
I also have a bit of an issue with the fact that the American is male and the Chinese player is a woman, mainly because it's a stereotype (not quite the perfect term, but it'll server) you see continually in entertainment. It's ok for a Caucasian male to romance and pursue an Asian female, but how often do you see an Asian male paired romantically with a Caucasian female? Aside from stories of that Anna chick and the King of Siam - that includes musical versions and movies. I remember reading a comment - I'm pretty sure it was in a magazine article of some kind, though I can't remember which - that in literature and entertainment, the sexual power of Asian males ranks somewhere below Caucasian females and above retarded people. Asian guys just are not seen as sexy.
Can you tell I'm a little bitter about that? I suppose I am. It's just frustrating to always see the same type of roles over and over, to be asked to play that same character over and over. The solution, I suppose, is for Asian writers to write roles that are not these same archtypes - you see these efforts in recent movies like Better Luck Tomorrow and Harold and Kumar, and in the plays of David Henry Hwang - most of which you can only read, as they don't tend to be produced too often. In fact, I've never seen them being done aside from the original Broadway productions, most of which were in the late 70s and 80s. But for me, and for many other minority actors out there, it seems that the only way to get the role that you really really want is to write it for yourself. That's something I've been wanting to do for a long time, and which a couple people have asked me about/nudged me towards, but I keep running up against the same block: I don't have a clue what the hell to write about. Maybe someday I'll run into it, but for now I guess I'm stuck playing these roles.
Monday, April 04, 2005
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Random Thoughts
We had this big basket of candy in the apartment for Easter, with jelly beans, chocolates and the like in there. From what I gather, the peanut butter cups went first (no big surprise there). The next to go were the good colored jelly beans and the chocolates, also no surprise. The problem is that now there's a HUGE PILE of black, purple and white jelly beans sitting in there that no-one's gonna eat and they're probably going to sit there until Christmas cause no-one's gonna want to throw them out in case someone wants one even though no-one ever will because, let's face it, those flavors suck.
Seriously, who came up with those ones anyways? Who the hell was it that said, hey, you know what kids really want? Purple flavored stuff! What is that, anyways? Usually it's grape but I'm pretty sure it isn't in this case, and I'm sure as hell not gonna try one to find out. And white? What the heck is that? And don't get me started on black licorice. That shit's just nasty.
Seriously, who came up with those ones anyways? Who the hell was it that said, hey, you know what kids really want? Purple flavored stuff! What is that, anyways? Usually it's grape but I'm pretty sure it isn't in this case, and I'm sure as hell not gonna try one to find out. And white? What the heck is that? And don't get me started on black licorice. That shit's just nasty.
Friday, April 01, 2005
Peelander Z
So, shot a brief clip for The Lounge, which is another ImaginAsian show, yesterday. The show itself is one of those shows where they air other things (movies usually, though in this case it's Asian television serieses) and have hosts to provide banter and to summarize the plot for viewers as they go. It used to have a male and female host, but I didn't see the guy this time so I don't know if he's still there. The female host is Emily Chang, who's both beautiful and charming, and who I would date in a second if she didn't have an attachment already (I think) and if I could actually work up the guts to ask her.
Anyhoo, for the stuff we shot yesterday there was a Japanese band on the show named Peelander Z, and they were pretty cool. For anyone interested, you can check out their site here.
Oh, and now that I think of it, I'd probably better put a link to ImaginAsian on the right too, so people can clicky clicky on that if I mention it and they don't know what it is.
Of course, that would mean that someone was reading this, and we all know how silly THAT is.
Anyhoo, for the stuff we shot yesterday there was a Japanese band on the show named Peelander Z, and they were pretty cool. For anyone interested, you can check out their site here.
Oh, and now that I think of it, I'd probably better put a link to ImaginAsian on the right too, so people can clicky clicky on that if I mention it and they don't know what it is.
Of course, that would mean that someone was reading this, and we all know how silly THAT is.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
I need help
...so I watched The Starlet again the other night. Thankfully, the judges didn't say "the Starlet" once.
What was interesting, though, was that the category, or lesson, or whatever for the week's show was comedy; that is, for their "screen test", the actresses (or actors, if you're one of the people who prefer the all-inclusive term for both male and female performers) took a class in comedic acting and then had to perform a scene from Friends, in front of a live studio audience and the judges.
First of all, I question the validity of teaching comedic acting. Part of my reasoning for this stems from the fact that I believe that to a large extent, comedic acting cannot be taught. You can't really teach someone to "be funny" because a big part of being funny is timing and delivery. Comic timing involves knowing the pace of a joke - knowing when barrelling through lines full speed will make it funny and knowing when a big pause can be used for comic effect. To a certain extent, you find that in rehearsals, but since in tv or movies you don't get too many of those, if you want to be successful in a comedy you have to have a certain knowledge of that. Delivery, meanwhile, is completely unique to every performer. Take standup comics, for example. Comics spend a lot of time working on their delivery as they develop, because your delivery is as much a part of the performance as the material. Every comic develops his or her own style, one that works for them and for the material they perform. Imagine Chris Rock's delivery and Jerry Seinfeld's material, or vice versa. How bizarre would that be? And chances are it wouldn't work; or at the very least, it wouldn't be as funny.
The one point that the teacher for the episode made that was valid was that comic acting is about taking risks, and about not being afraid of looking stupid. But then, I would argue that that applies to dramatic acting as well. Any time that you act, if you're thinking about how you look you're going to look stupid, and your actions will not be as effective as they can be if you simply lose yourself in the moment, which is the goal of any actor.
Second, I think it's a crying shame that they gave them scripts from Friends. The scene was a little bit between Rachel and Phoebe talking about Chandler and Monica getting married, and how they weren't jealous at all, but then Rachel said she was maybe 2% jealous and that was like nothing, and then she says maybe 80-20 and then they talk about having a friend that you agree to get married to if you hit a certain age and you're still single and Phoebe says she has that with Joey and ha ha ha.
Honestly, it's not very funny. I suppose you could make the argument that scripts like that are probably the high end of network comedies that you could realistically expect people to perform with relatively little preparation time (not to mention involving 2 women), but any time you perform, the script plays a huge role in how well you will do. Michael Caine said, (and I paraphrase, cause I don't feel like pulling out his book) "You can have the hardest days of your life acting out a bad script and the movie will still look like crap, and you can breeze through shooting a great script and win awards for it." The more work I do, the more I realize just how many factors go into an actor's performance. It starts with the script - is it a good script? Are there fake moments there? How good is the dialogue? Then, the other people in the scene - are they talented? Have they done their work? Do they listen? Do they react? Director - what kind of blocking are they giving actors? How do they interpret the scene, and does that differ from what the actor things? Not to mention all the technical on-set worries - being on marks (positions set in advance so you'll be in the camera's frame - onscreen - when you're supposed to be and where you're supposed to be), lighting worries, special effects, etc. And even after all that, after you've shot the scene and it's all forgotten about, the editor comes into play, cutting and splicing different angles of the scene to make it into a narrative whole. I don't believe editing can turn bad acting into great acting, but it can make decent performances very good - but then, the reverse is also true.
Comedy, of course, always gets knocked for somehow being "less" than drama. In my opinion, like the differences between stage and screen acting, they are simply different, with pros and cons for each. I do think comedy is more difficult, though, and here's why: drama is often inherent in a scene - people get drama because everyone has events in their lives that are dramatic, that they can relate to a scene through. Comedy is harder to write and harder to perform, ESPECIALLY for a live audience because there's nothing more excruciating to watch or perform than a comedy where no-one is laughing. If you've never experienced it, trust me.
What was interesting, though, was that the category, or lesson, or whatever for the week's show was comedy; that is, for their "screen test", the actresses (or actors, if you're one of the people who prefer the all-inclusive term for both male and female performers) took a class in comedic acting and then had to perform a scene from Friends, in front of a live studio audience and the judges.
First of all, I question the validity of teaching comedic acting. Part of my reasoning for this stems from the fact that I believe that to a large extent, comedic acting cannot be taught. You can't really teach someone to "be funny" because a big part of being funny is timing and delivery. Comic timing involves knowing the pace of a joke - knowing when barrelling through lines full speed will make it funny and knowing when a big pause can be used for comic effect. To a certain extent, you find that in rehearsals, but since in tv or movies you don't get too many of those, if you want to be successful in a comedy you have to have a certain knowledge of that. Delivery, meanwhile, is completely unique to every performer. Take standup comics, for example. Comics spend a lot of time working on their delivery as they develop, because your delivery is as much a part of the performance as the material. Every comic develops his or her own style, one that works for them and for the material they perform. Imagine Chris Rock's delivery and Jerry Seinfeld's material, or vice versa. How bizarre would that be? And chances are it wouldn't work; or at the very least, it wouldn't be as funny.
The one point that the teacher for the episode made that was valid was that comic acting is about taking risks, and about not being afraid of looking stupid. But then, I would argue that that applies to dramatic acting as well. Any time that you act, if you're thinking about how you look you're going to look stupid, and your actions will not be as effective as they can be if you simply lose yourself in the moment, which is the goal of any actor.
Second, I think it's a crying shame that they gave them scripts from Friends. The scene was a little bit between Rachel and Phoebe talking about Chandler and Monica getting married, and how they weren't jealous at all, but then Rachel said she was maybe 2% jealous and that was like nothing, and then she says maybe 80-20 and then they talk about having a friend that you agree to get married to if you hit a certain age and you're still single and Phoebe says she has that with Joey and ha ha ha.
Honestly, it's not very funny. I suppose you could make the argument that scripts like that are probably the high end of network comedies that you could realistically expect people to perform with relatively little preparation time (not to mention involving 2 women), but any time you perform, the script plays a huge role in how well you will do. Michael Caine said, (and I paraphrase, cause I don't feel like pulling out his book) "You can have the hardest days of your life acting out a bad script and the movie will still look like crap, and you can breeze through shooting a great script and win awards for it." The more work I do, the more I realize just how many factors go into an actor's performance. It starts with the script - is it a good script? Are there fake moments there? How good is the dialogue? Then, the other people in the scene - are they talented? Have they done their work? Do they listen? Do they react? Director - what kind of blocking are they giving actors? How do they interpret the scene, and does that differ from what the actor things? Not to mention all the technical on-set worries - being on marks (positions set in advance so you'll be in the camera's frame - onscreen - when you're supposed to be and where you're supposed to be), lighting worries, special effects, etc. And even after all that, after you've shot the scene and it's all forgotten about, the editor comes into play, cutting and splicing different angles of the scene to make it into a narrative whole. I don't believe editing can turn bad acting into great acting, but it can make decent performances very good - but then, the reverse is also true.
Comedy, of course, always gets knocked for somehow being "less" than drama. In my opinion, like the differences between stage and screen acting, they are simply different, with pros and cons for each. I do think comedy is more difficult, though, and here's why: drama is often inherent in a scene - people get drama because everyone has events in their lives that are dramatic, that they can relate to a scene through. Comedy is harder to write and harder to perform, ESPECIALLY for a live audience because there's nothing more excruciating to watch or perform than a comedy where no-one is laughing. If you've never experienced it, trust me.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
I feel so dirty...
So I watched an episode of The Starlet yesterday, which is the WB's new reality series where they look for an actress who (I think) gets a recurring, if not regular, role (I think) on a WB series as her reward. A couple thoughts.
First of all........wow, a series on the WB. I saw a magazine at the iaTV offices the other day that had a big cover montage of WB shows, because of its 10th anniversary. Am I the only one who is both shocked and surprised that the WB has lasted that long? Is there another network out there with a crappier assortment of shows? How many souls did they have to sell? Seriously. If nothing else, that goes to show you that you can have crappy ratings as long as you market to the right demographic and advertisers want to reach that demographic.
Second, I never want to hear the words "the Starlet" again. They had this panel of three judges who decide who stays and goes and whatnot; one guy who I didn't know, a girl I think was Vivica A. Fox and Faye Dunaway. And (probably because they were told to use the words whenever referring to the eventual winner of the competition) they kept saying "the Starlet has to have this" or "If you want to be the Starlet"...WTF DOES THAT MEAN? THAT'S NOT A WORD, GODDAMMIT.
Lastly, I kind of have issues with what the show chooses to air and make public. Like the audition process of American Idol (which is somewhat similar to the audition process for a play, movie or musical), acting classes and the process of learning the craft of acting are an extremely difficult process; not because it's difficult to understand what the teacher wants you to do necessarily, but because acting deals with all the emotions and all the baggage that you as a person and as a performer bring. If you're taking "Method" classes - the Method referring to Stanislavski's beliefs regarding acting and sense-memory - which is what they seem to be teaching the girls on the show, the process is bound to be extremely emotional and leave the performer very vulnerable. This is, of course, understandable in terms of the show - emotional vulnerability and the situations it causes are gold for ratings. But I have an issue with the show choosing to air these moments, which most actors would (I think) be horrified to have shown to a general audience. It's true that hopefully the performer will hit those same notes in a performance, but I feel there is a difference between that and the process that an actor goes through to be able to recreate the emotions in a performance.
On that note, I've read a couple of interesting interviews recently with two actors I wasn't really too sure what to think about; Russell Crowe and Daniel Day Lewis. The first I've never really liked, the second I've never really seen in things. Both are Oscar winners (though I don't think Crowe really deserved his), and both have negative reputations in Hollywood. Anyways, what brought those to mind (aside from the fact that they were pretty good interviews) was that Daniel Day Lewis was asked about his process - one of the reasons he has a reputation for being kind of weird is that he's notorious for doing a ton of background research for his characters and always staying in character on set. He mentions that one thing he hates are the "roving press kits" or something of that kind - basically this group of people that catches up with you after you've finished a scene and asks about the scene and where it fits in, the character's motivations and all that, to which he replies that he never really knows because he's still in the middle of his own process, still trying to figure those things out for himself. I find that interesting because it's actually much more of a stage training view than film; typically on a film shoot you're expected to come to the set/shoot location with all your character work done; setups and filming are so time consuming that there is no time to work on character on set. For a stage production though, there are several weeks of rehearsal in which you can explore characters, explore choices and select the one you like best. The more you rehearse, the more the character tends to grow; the more levels you find and the more subtleties you can add to a character. I find the film actors who I appreciate the most are the ones who can bring this to a film role - Kevin Kline, Meryl Streep and Johnny Depp to name 3. Anyways, I have to go because a friend is harassing me to go watch the latest episode of Red vs Blue. I think that's more than enough for now anyways.
First of all........wow, a series on the WB. I saw a magazine at the iaTV offices the other day that had a big cover montage of WB shows, because of its 10th anniversary. Am I the only one who is both shocked and surprised that the WB has lasted that long? Is there another network out there with a crappier assortment of shows? How many souls did they have to sell? Seriously. If nothing else, that goes to show you that you can have crappy ratings as long as you market to the right demographic and advertisers want to reach that demographic.
Second, I never want to hear the words "the Starlet" again. They had this panel of three judges who decide who stays and goes and whatnot; one guy who I didn't know, a girl I think was Vivica A. Fox and Faye Dunaway. And (probably because they were told to use the words whenever referring to the eventual winner of the competition) they kept saying "the Starlet has to have this" or "If you want to be the Starlet"...WTF DOES THAT MEAN? THAT'S NOT A WORD, GODDAMMIT.
Lastly, I kind of have issues with what the show chooses to air and make public. Like the audition process of American Idol (which is somewhat similar to the audition process for a play, movie or musical), acting classes and the process of learning the craft of acting are an extremely difficult process; not because it's difficult to understand what the teacher wants you to do necessarily, but because acting deals with all the emotions and all the baggage that you as a person and as a performer bring. If you're taking "Method" classes - the Method referring to Stanislavski's beliefs regarding acting and sense-memory - which is what they seem to be teaching the girls on the show, the process is bound to be extremely emotional and leave the performer very vulnerable. This is, of course, understandable in terms of the show - emotional vulnerability and the situations it causes are gold for ratings. But I have an issue with the show choosing to air these moments, which most actors would (I think) be horrified to have shown to a general audience. It's true that hopefully the performer will hit those same notes in a performance, but I feel there is a difference between that and the process that an actor goes through to be able to recreate the emotions in a performance.
On that note, I've read a couple of interesting interviews recently with two actors I wasn't really too sure what to think about; Russell Crowe and Daniel Day Lewis. The first I've never really liked, the second I've never really seen in things. Both are Oscar winners (though I don't think Crowe really deserved his), and both have negative reputations in Hollywood. Anyways, what brought those to mind (aside from the fact that they were pretty good interviews) was that Daniel Day Lewis was asked about his process - one of the reasons he has a reputation for being kind of weird is that he's notorious for doing a ton of background research for his characters and always staying in character on set. He mentions that one thing he hates are the "roving press kits" or something of that kind - basically this group of people that catches up with you after you've finished a scene and asks about the scene and where it fits in, the character's motivations and all that, to which he replies that he never really knows because he's still in the middle of his own process, still trying to figure those things out for himself. I find that interesting because it's actually much more of a stage training view than film; typically on a film shoot you're expected to come to the set/shoot location with all your character work done; setups and filming are so time consuming that there is no time to work on character on set. For a stage production though, there are several weeks of rehearsal in which you can explore characters, explore choices and select the one you like best. The more you rehearse, the more the character tends to grow; the more levels you find and the more subtleties you can add to a character. I find the film actors who I appreciate the most are the ones who can bring this to a film role - Kevin Kline, Meryl Streep and Johnny Depp to name 3. Anyways, I have to go because a friend is harassing me to go watch the latest episode of Red vs Blue. I think that's more than enough for now anyways.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Do the Hustle!
Nothing too interesting going on; just finished shooting two more episodes of Morty's yesterday. Well, the live action stuff. Typically when we're making an episode we'll shoot all the live stuff one day, all the bar stuff another day and then all the dubbing on a third day. This time around we only did two (as opposed to last time, when we did 3 and it was HORRIBLE), so it was pretty chill.
Anyways, what I wanted to mention was Kung Fu Hustle, which will be out in NY/LA April 8th and wider release April 22nd. Honestly, it's AWESOME. It's funny, there's some great fight scenes and some incredible shots. I haven't watched much of his other stuff, but Stephen Chow just shot close to the top of my "guys-whose-stuff-I-need-to-watch-more-of" list (Woody Allen and Wong Kar Wai are pretty much the only two other people on there right now).
Anyways, what I wanted to mention was Kung Fu Hustle, which will be out in NY/LA April 8th and wider release April 22nd. Honestly, it's AWESOME. It's funny, there's some great fight scenes and some incredible shots. I haven't watched much of his other stuff, but Stephen Chow just shot close to the top of my "guys-whose-stuff-I-need-to-watch-more-of" list (Woody Allen and Wong Kar Wai are pretty much the only two other people on there right now).
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Snow, snow, snow, snow!
It's snowing, but it doesn't look like a happy snow. You know, the kind with the big fat flakes that drift down and settle on your face like a kiss from the sky. The kind of snow where you step outside and you can feel the quietness in the air, that blankets the world in white and makes it look like the world is clean and new.
Yeah, not that kind.
It's a wet, drifting snow that's swirled around by the wind and always seems to get under your collar or scarf. Worst of all, there's no accumulation, and if there's no accumulation that means there will be class, and if there's class that means that theoretically I should be going to it. I keep refreshing the New School's website and looking for a cancellation notice, but I'm not seeing one yet.
The thing is, I don't even mind my classes. Tonight it's Kierkegaard, whose writings I've enjoyed quite a bit so far. To a certain extent, I feel my reluctance to go to classes stems from intellectual snobbery. Honestly, in discussions in class I don't hear much that I haven't already thought of upon reading the text. Part of the problem is inherent in studying philosophy; you see, there are 3 or 4 types of people who take philosophy. One is the older student, frequently talkative in class and just as frequently with little of note to say. A part of it, I think, stems from the fact that they are more of a contemporary to the professor, and so assume a relationship closer to friendship than that of student-prof is more appropriate. At times, with an older student in the class, it can degenerate into a private conversation held with 10 other people in the room listening.
The next type is the slacker. These are the people who take philosophy because it sounds cool, but don't ever do the readings. Inevitably they come into class and share their opinions, which are useless because they have little or no bearing on the question, or because if they'd done the reading and understood the reading, they might have found the philosopher's answer to their opinion and might have been able to present a more cogent argument against it. These are the people who raise their hands and say, "I don't know if I agree with that, because this one time I was out with my friends at the mall, and we...um.......it's like when you....I don't know...do you know what I mean?" NO, I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN, YOU PRETENTIOUS FUCK, BECAUSE YOU CAN'T EXPRESS YOURSELF IN A COHERENT SENTENCE. STOP WASTING MY TIME AND MONEY.
The third type is the majority of philosphy classes - the average student. They may or may not get the readings, but they don't raise their hands in class to ask about things.
The fourth type is the know-it-all. Typically you'll have one and only one of these in each class, but you'll know exactly who they are the first day of class. They're the ones who come into philosophy thinking they know all the answers, who judge writings and their validity without really understanding what the writer is trying to say. It's like the zen concept of the teacup. If you are not going into a philosophy class with the intention of understanding (or doing your best to understand, in some cases) the arguments of a philosopher, what's the goddamn point? Yes, you can disagree with a philosopher's conclusions, but in order to do so and not be a complete dumbass, you must first understand said conclusions and their reasons. Chances are most of them were smarter than any of us; you're not going to waltz into your first class on Kant and tear apart his whole philosophy, so don't try.
If I sound bitter and angry about some of that, it's because I am. I'm really ok with that - living in New York does quite a bit to put you in touch with your anger. I don't appreciate people wasting my money because they haven't done their work. At the very least, if you haven't done the reading or can't remember exactly what your point is, shut the hell up and hope the professor doesn't ask you any questions directly. If you don't understand something, by all means ask, but don't make assumptions based on a faulty reading and then launch into some huge diatribe about how the philospher in question is totally wrong, because chances are you'll end up looking stupid. And then you look stupid and I hate you with all the passion of one too many classes on Plato's Republic. And that's just not a happy place to be.
Yeah, not that kind.
It's a wet, drifting snow that's swirled around by the wind and always seems to get under your collar or scarf. Worst of all, there's no accumulation, and if there's no accumulation that means there will be class, and if there's class that means that theoretically I should be going to it. I keep refreshing the New School's website and looking for a cancellation notice, but I'm not seeing one yet.
The thing is, I don't even mind my classes. Tonight it's Kierkegaard, whose writings I've enjoyed quite a bit so far. To a certain extent, I feel my reluctance to go to classes stems from intellectual snobbery. Honestly, in discussions in class I don't hear much that I haven't already thought of upon reading the text. Part of the problem is inherent in studying philosophy; you see, there are 3 or 4 types of people who take philosophy. One is the older student, frequently talkative in class and just as frequently with little of note to say. A part of it, I think, stems from the fact that they are more of a contemporary to the professor, and so assume a relationship closer to friendship than that of student-prof is more appropriate. At times, with an older student in the class, it can degenerate into a private conversation held with 10 other people in the room listening.
The next type is the slacker. These are the people who take philosophy because it sounds cool, but don't ever do the readings. Inevitably they come into class and share their opinions, which are useless because they have little or no bearing on the question, or because if they'd done the reading and understood the reading, they might have found the philosopher's answer to their opinion and might have been able to present a more cogent argument against it. These are the people who raise their hands and say, "I don't know if I agree with that, because this one time I was out with my friends at the mall, and we...um.......it's like when you....I don't know...do you know what I mean?" NO, I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN, YOU PRETENTIOUS FUCK, BECAUSE YOU CAN'T EXPRESS YOURSELF IN A COHERENT SENTENCE. STOP WASTING MY TIME AND MONEY.
The third type is the majority of philosphy classes - the average student. They may or may not get the readings, but they don't raise their hands in class to ask about things.
The fourth type is the know-it-all. Typically you'll have one and only one of these in each class, but you'll know exactly who they are the first day of class. They're the ones who come into philosophy thinking they know all the answers, who judge writings and their validity without really understanding what the writer is trying to say. It's like the zen concept of the teacup. If you are not going into a philosophy class with the intention of understanding (or doing your best to understand, in some cases) the arguments of a philosopher, what's the goddamn point? Yes, you can disagree with a philosopher's conclusions, but in order to do so and not be a complete dumbass, you must first understand said conclusions and their reasons. Chances are most of them were smarter than any of us; you're not going to waltz into your first class on Kant and tear apart his whole philosophy, so don't try.
If I sound bitter and angry about some of that, it's because I am. I'm really ok with that - living in New York does quite a bit to put you in touch with your anger. I don't appreciate people wasting my money because they haven't done their work. At the very least, if you haven't done the reading or can't remember exactly what your point is, shut the hell up and hope the professor doesn't ask you any questions directly. If you don't understand something, by all means ask, but don't make assumptions based on a faulty reading and then launch into some huge diatribe about how the philospher in question is totally wrong, because chances are you'll end up looking stupid. And then you look stupid and I hate you with all the passion of one too many classes on Plato's Republic. And that's just not a happy place to be.
So you wanna be an actor
Musical theater will always be my first love. It is ostensibly what I trained for - for 2 years I ate, lived and breathed musical theater.
Then I graduated.
And then I didn't get cast in any musicals.
I did get cast in plays. I did get cast in movies. Eventually I got cast in a tv show. More on that later, if I feel like it. Generally I'm uncomfortable tooting my own horn, but one thing I've learned is that at this stage in my career, there isn't many other people who will do it for me.
But musical theater didn't happen, and not for lack of trying (for once). I went to every Miss Saigon and every Flower Drum Song call there was. I went to Rent calls, I went to Grease calls, I crashed Equity calls, etc etc etc. I got callbacks, but never cast.
This led me to a realization that I think everyone comes to at some point: my teachers lied. To be sure, there were many aspects they were brutally honest about. The best teacher I had at AMDA (an acting teacher), used to talk for 5 to 10 minutes before starting class about something. Sometimes it would be articles from the New York Times - I remember one article about Robert Caro's biography on LBJ where there was a picture showing LBJ talking to another member of the Senate - and his physicality (LBJ was very tall), using his size and crowding the man, pressing forward and jabbing a finger into his chest, was what Ray (my teacher) emphasized. I actually picked up that part (there are 3 so far, and Caro is only up to LBJ's time in the Senate) of the biography and it's a fascinating look at a man who was probably the greatest politician of his generation, with Nixon a close second. That comment, of course, is deliberately neutral - to be a good politician does not mean that one is a good person. Anyways, back to Ray. One day - it might even have been the first day - Ray said to us all that out of say, 100,000 actors who are in SAG, 10,000 actually get work in a given year. He himself had gone to acting school when he was starting, and out of his class, he was the only one at that time still acting. He told us to look around the room (our class was 20 people) and think about the fact that in 10 years time, all but one or two of us would have stopped acting.
It's now three years later. To my knowledge, 2 other people that were in that class with me continue to pursue acting here in New York.
But back to the lies. Teachers (well, my teachers) all said that having a great voice was fine and all, but after 5 seconds an audience member has made a decision if they like your voice or not. And after those 5 seconds, you'd damn well better have something else to keep them interested or they'd get bored, and possibly irritated. This, of course, was said with the express intention of pushing their take on musical theater - acting through a song. But then, the people who became the favorites in class inevitably were the ones who had great voices, sometimes able to match it with acting talent but frequently not.
Part of the problem stems from the very fact that music is inherently emotional. It's right there in the music itself. I read a story in the Times once where a theater had put on an experiment; it took the same show, but gave it to two different companies - one a musical theater company, the other an opera company. They then housed both productions in the same theater, giving viewers the opportunity to see the two different approaches. In the article, the difference was summed up as this: opera takes its acting cues from the music; the composer, through dynamics and keys (in other words, technical means) has already set the tone, and all that is required of the performer is to fulfill those technicalities. Musical theater, however, seeks justification for the musicality in the lyric. But, as in opera, in musical theater an incredible voice can emote even if the performer isn't doing anything other than singing. Or at least give the impression of emotion.
This is not to bash opera; it is a perfectly valid art form and I can appreciate it as well, but to me it always feels highly technical. There are few things as thrilling as a human voice that has been trained so perfectly that it can soar to notes that hit you on an instinctive level. There are also few things as disappointing as a technically perfect voice that lacks any emotive quality whatsoever other than the music itself - Josh Groban comes to mind. When you listen to good musical theater (and there isn't much of it out there - I mean the REALLY good stuff) you can see exactly what the performer is doing at any given time, because it's all there in their inflections - the way they sing the lyric. Bad musical theater, of course, makes you wish for an automatic weapon of some kind. I had a teacher that always used to say, the reason why people hate musical theater is because they've only seen bad musical theater. I can't really argue with that. I've seen a lot of bad musical theater.
But back to acting. As it went in school, so it went in auditions. You come to the realization very quickly that your look is important. You don't have to be beautiful (as long as you don't try to audition for beautiful roles). You just need to have a look that producers and directors can define. Being asian, I was immediately disqualified for many roles. That's just the way it is. Even if people might be open to (as it's referred to) non-traditional casting, most producers will not or can not take that risk.
It does, though, work both ways. Being asian, there were some roles I could audition for that I could not have otherwise. Pretty much everything I have been cast in, the casting notice stated that they were looking for an asian.
This post is already pretty long, and I haven't even gotten into the nuts and bolts of acting (well, what I think about acting). That's because the casting process is the most time-consuming portion of being an actor. You can think of it this way: actors are self-employed, and their company is themselves. You can be the best actor in the world, but if you can't promote yourself; if you don't have the strength or the will to mail out your information, to go to auditions and to keep going to auditions, to mail things to agents and to continually hound them until you get the one that you want, and then to keep pushing with your agent to get the parts that you want, you won't be able to make a living as an actor.
For those who don't know, the casting process for an starting actor goes like this. In New York, there are several weekly publications that list notices from productions looking for actors. Backstage is the main one for stage, and as New York is mainly a stage (musicals and straight plays) town, that's the main one here. Directors or producers will either be asking you to mail in your headshot and resume, or simply give a time and location for an audition, as well as the pertinent details - character breakdowns, whether they want to hear a prepared monologue or will be providing sides, that sort of thing. If it's a mail in, you send in your stuff and if it's an audition you go to the audition, and then you wait.
Typically (for me), out of every 10 things you mail you might get two to three calls. Some weeks you'll get more, some weeks you'll get nothing. Out of every 10 auditions you go to, you'll probably get a few call backs (that's when they...call you back, to see you again. It's the next level, when they're trying to decide between a few people which is the one they really want). The bigger the production is, the more call backs they'll hold - to get into the big Disney productions here in a lead role you usually have to be seen by them at least 4-5 times.
In my experience, it's rarely predictable. You have months where you go to auditions, you get call backs and you never get roles. Then you have a month where 2 or 3 productions all call you and want you. Then it's back to nothing. When I started I would be overjoyed to get a call back - after a few months it was a good thing but nothing to be excited about. You learn to even out the peaks and valleys or you get a therapist or you quit. Or maybe both of those last two options.
It's this business side that, I think, pushes a lot of people out of the profession. Everyone who goes to acting school might enjoy it, they might be talented at it, but if they're not willing to work for it, they won't stick around. Look at the people who are Hollywood stars - many of them are worse actors than people you can see in high school productions (not many, but some). But what made those people stars (aside from the beautiful people who come and go with their looks and lucky people who happen to know the right people), above and beyond whatever talent they might have had, was an inner drive that would not stop pushing, would not stop working until they had made it to a certain professional level.
I'm still not tired, but I think that's about all I have to say about this for now. Hopefully it's somewhat coherent.
Then I graduated.
And then I didn't get cast in any musicals.
I did get cast in plays. I did get cast in movies. Eventually I got cast in a tv show. More on that later, if I feel like it. Generally I'm uncomfortable tooting my own horn, but one thing I've learned is that at this stage in my career, there isn't many other people who will do it for me.
But musical theater didn't happen, and not for lack of trying (for once). I went to every Miss Saigon and every Flower Drum Song call there was. I went to Rent calls, I went to Grease calls, I crashed Equity calls, etc etc etc. I got callbacks, but never cast.
This led me to a realization that I think everyone comes to at some point: my teachers lied. To be sure, there were many aspects they were brutally honest about. The best teacher I had at AMDA (an acting teacher), used to talk for 5 to 10 minutes before starting class about something. Sometimes it would be articles from the New York Times - I remember one article about Robert Caro's biography on LBJ where there was a picture showing LBJ talking to another member of the Senate - and his physicality (LBJ was very tall), using his size and crowding the man, pressing forward and jabbing a finger into his chest, was what Ray (my teacher) emphasized. I actually picked up that part (there are 3 so far, and Caro is only up to LBJ's time in the Senate) of the biography and it's a fascinating look at a man who was probably the greatest politician of his generation, with Nixon a close second. That comment, of course, is deliberately neutral - to be a good politician does not mean that one is a good person. Anyways, back to Ray. One day - it might even have been the first day - Ray said to us all that out of say, 100,000 actors who are in SAG, 10,000 actually get work in a given year. He himself had gone to acting school when he was starting, and out of his class, he was the only one at that time still acting. He told us to look around the room (our class was 20 people) and think about the fact that in 10 years time, all but one or two of us would have stopped acting.
It's now three years later. To my knowledge, 2 other people that were in that class with me continue to pursue acting here in New York.
But back to the lies. Teachers (well, my teachers) all said that having a great voice was fine and all, but after 5 seconds an audience member has made a decision if they like your voice or not. And after those 5 seconds, you'd damn well better have something else to keep them interested or they'd get bored, and possibly irritated. This, of course, was said with the express intention of pushing their take on musical theater - acting through a song. But then, the people who became the favorites in class inevitably were the ones who had great voices, sometimes able to match it with acting talent but frequently not.
Part of the problem stems from the very fact that music is inherently emotional. It's right there in the music itself. I read a story in the Times once where a theater had put on an experiment; it took the same show, but gave it to two different companies - one a musical theater company, the other an opera company. They then housed both productions in the same theater, giving viewers the opportunity to see the two different approaches. In the article, the difference was summed up as this: opera takes its acting cues from the music; the composer, through dynamics and keys (in other words, technical means) has already set the tone, and all that is required of the performer is to fulfill those technicalities. Musical theater, however, seeks justification for the musicality in the lyric. But, as in opera, in musical theater an incredible voice can emote even if the performer isn't doing anything other than singing. Or at least give the impression of emotion.
This is not to bash opera; it is a perfectly valid art form and I can appreciate it as well, but to me it always feels highly technical. There are few things as thrilling as a human voice that has been trained so perfectly that it can soar to notes that hit you on an instinctive level. There are also few things as disappointing as a technically perfect voice that lacks any emotive quality whatsoever other than the music itself - Josh Groban comes to mind. When you listen to good musical theater (and there isn't much of it out there - I mean the REALLY good stuff) you can see exactly what the performer is doing at any given time, because it's all there in their inflections - the way they sing the lyric. Bad musical theater, of course, makes you wish for an automatic weapon of some kind. I had a teacher that always used to say, the reason why people hate musical theater is because they've only seen bad musical theater. I can't really argue with that. I've seen a lot of bad musical theater.
But back to acting. As it went in school, so it went in auditions. You come to the realization very quickly that your look is important. You don't have to be beautiful (as long as you don't try to audition for beautiful roles). You just need to have a look that producers and directors can define. Being asian, I was immediately disqualified for many roles. That's just the way it is. Even if people might be open to (as it's referred to) non-traditional casting, most producers will not or can not take that risk.
It does, though, work both ways. Being asian, there were some roles I could audition for that I could not have otherwise. Pretty much everything I have been cast in, the casting notice stated that they were looking for an asian.
This post is already pretty long, and I haven't even gotten into the nuts and bolts of acting (well, what I think about acting). That's because the casting process is the most time-consuming portion of being an actor. You can think of it this way: actors are self-employed, and their company is themselves. You can be the best actor in the world, but if you can't promote yourself; if you don't have the strength or the will to mail out your information, to go to auditions and to keep going to auditions, to mail things to agents and to continually hound them until you get the one that you want, and then to keep pushing with your agent to get the parts that you want, you won't be able to make a living as an actor.
For those who don't know, the casting process for an starting actor goes like this. In New York, there are several weekly publications that list notices from productions looking for actors. Backstage is the main one for stage, and as New York is mainly a stage (musicals and straight plays) town, that's the main one here. Directors or producers will either be asking you to mail in your headshot and resume, or simply give a time and location for an audition, as well as the pertinent details - character breakdowns, whether they want to hear a prepared monologue or will be providing sides, that sort of thing. If it's a mail in, you send in your stuff and if it's an audition you go to the audition, and then you wait.
Typically (for me), out of every 10 things you mail you might get two to three calls. Some weeks you'll get more, some weeks you'll get nothing. Out of every 10 auditions you go to, you'll probably get a few call backs (that's when they...call you back, to see you again. It's the next level, when they're trying to decide between a few people which is the one they really want). The bigger the production is, the more call backs they'll hold - to get into the big Disney productions here in a lead role you usually have to be seen by them at least 4-5 times.
In my experience, it's rarely predictable. You have months where you go to auditions, you get call backs and you never get roles. Then you have a month where 2 or 3 productions all call you and want you. Then it's back to nothing. When I started I would be overjoyed to get a call back - after a few months it was a good thing but nothing to be excited about. You learn to even out the peaks and valleys or you get a therapist or you quit. Or maybe both of those last two options.
It's this business side that, I think, pushes a lot of people out of the profession. Everyone who goes to acting school might enjoy it, they might be talented at it, but if they're not willing to work for it, they won't stick around. Look at the people who are Hollywood stars - many of them are worse actors than people you can see in high school productions (not many, but some). But what made those people stars (aside from the beautiful people who come and go with their looks and lucky people who happen to know the right people), above and beyond whatever talent they might have had, was an inner drive that would not stop pushing, would not stop working until they had made it to a certain professional level.
I'm still not tired, but I think that's about all I have to say about this for now. Hopefully it's somewhat coherent.
SO not tired
So, a bit more about me. I grew up mostly in Mississauga, Ontario. Went to Appleby College, which is a private school in Oakville, Ontario. When I was younger, I was skipped ahead a grade. For those of you wondering which, as near as I can figure it was first grade. See, I was in Kindergarden, and doing the whole half-day thing, when one day they had me take an IQ test (which are, I believe, considered pretty unreliable for kids, a fact which is exacerbated by to cultural bias. There are ones which are supposed to be less biased now, but I'm pretty sure back in 1980-whatever they weren't really thinking about that. That also didn't seem to affect me, being brought up in North American society, since I did well enough that they then...um, I'm getting ahead of the story outside the brackets). Soon after, I was told that I would continue going to Kindergarden in the mornings, and then in the afternoon I would walk my happy self down the hall to the grade one classroom, where I would stay for the rest of the day. I assume they talked it over with my parents, who were more than happy to have me skipped ahead - I was, after all, following in my older brother's footsteps, who had also skipped a grade.
Appleby also did high school in 4 years at a time when the rest of the province did it in 5, meaning I finished high school at 16 and went to college at 17, having had a birthday in the summer. Queen's University it was, Commerce - sort of a pre-MBA program. Macro- and microeconomics, accounting, that sort of thing.
And then I failed out.
It was never a question of difficulty, I just didn't go to class. I'm not particularly (a word I used to pronounce particular-I-ly as recently as 3 years ago for some odd reason I've never been able to figure out) proud of that, nor am I of what happened next, but it happened and I suppose it's one of the things that's made me what and who I am today, so I'm not too upset about it. I did manage to pass one class - macroeconomics - based on the the midterm and final, but that was it.
So, I was done at Queen's. My dad pulled some strings and managed to get me into York University (back in Toronto) for the next year. Unfortunately (fortunately?), the same thing happened. Didn't go to class, passed one - Social Philosophy, with an actual good grade - failed everything else.
It is not, as I said, something I look back on with pride. But it led me to the conclusion that if I was failing out of college because I couldn't motivate myself to go to class, perhaps I should be doing something I actually wanted to go do. Like every kid, I grew up with the aspirations of my parents yoked on my shoulders. And like every kid, I had come to a point where I had to honestly evaluate whether or not those expectations were for me.
While I was at Queen's, I auditioned for and was cast in their production of Guys and Dolls (Harry the Horse). If you watch the movie he's played as a straight man, pretty boring. I remember in the audition, the director (after I'd read the first time) asked for an angrier reading. I ended up doing an odd Gilbert Gottfried-esque reading, which they loved. ANYways, I was cast in that, and I ended up playing computer games until 3-4 am, sleeping through my morning classes, plain old not going to my afternoon classes and then going to rehearsals later in the evenings, which I never missed.
That's sort of where I stopped. Classes didn't interest me. At York I would wake up, drive all the way to the university (about 30-45 minutes) and then sleep in my car because I didn't feel like going to class. But I could always get myself to rehearsals. So why not give that a shot? I found out about Sheridan and Ryerson, both in the Toronto area, and also had a friend from Queen's who'd had a friend who'd gone to this school in New York, AMDA. So those were the three options I settled on.
Again, laziness. I completely screwed myself out of Sheridan and Ryerson, messing up those auditions. With a lot of help from my girl at the time I managed to put it together for the AMDA audition and got in, bringing me here. 2 years later I finished up at AMDA (Feb, 2003) and started auditioning. Did that for a year, then found out my visa was going to expire and there was nothing I could do, short of getting married, because I hadn't gotten a Bachelor's in the States. Luckily, AMDA had an arrangement with The New School University (here in NY) where your time at AMDA was fully credited to you, towards a BFA. So now I'm going there, with a chance to finish up what I started way back in 1998.
I don't know if I believe that you can learn from your mistakes. The way I see it, when you make a big mistake - well, first of all you don't usually recognize it as a mistake until some time has passed. But when you realize, in hindsight, that you've made a mistake, that mistake is typically because of a personal failing. To a large degree, the person that you are going to be is fully formed by the time you finish high school. That's why all the future social interactions you have are just like high school - because few, if any people, ever get away from that mentality. Once you get into college and beyond, you can try your best to avoid it and succeed to a certain extent, but if you work in an office; if you go to a church; if you have almost any interaction with groups of people the same relationships will emerge.
What I do believe about mistakes, though, is that they and the situtations they place you in help to define you as a person. Everyone has their own personal issues to deal with, and it is these issues and how we respond to them that create our personalities. Would I be here in New York if I hadn't failed out of Queen's? No. Would I be here in New York if I hadn't failed out of York after failing out of Queen's? No. I suppose you could argue that being in New York is more of a situation, and has little to do with my personality and its change. But I would respond that you've never lived in New York.
This is really long, but I'm still not tired. Going to wrap this up and start another.
Appleby also did high school in 4 years at a time when the rest of the province did it in 5, meaning I finished high school at 16 and went to college at 17, having had a birthday in the summer. Queen's University it was, Commerce - sort of a pre-MBA program. Macro- and microeconomics, accounting, that sort of thing.
And then I failed out.
It was never a question of difficulty, I just didn't go to class. I'm not particularly (a word I used to pronounce particular-I-ly as recently as 3 years ago for some odd reason I've never been able to figure out) proud of that, nor am I of what happened next, but it happened and I suppose it's one of the things that's made me what and who I am today, so I'm not too upset about it. I did manage to pass one class - macroeconomics - based on the the midterm and final, but that was it.
So, I was done at Queen's. My dad pulled some strings and managed to get me into York University (back in Toronto) for the next year. Unfortunately (fortunately?), the same thing happened. Didn't go to class, passed one - Social Philosophy, with an actual good grade - failed everything else.
It is not, as I said, something I look back on with pride. But it led me to the conclusion that if I was failing out of college because I couldn't motivate myself to go to class, perhaps I should be doing something I actually wanted to go do. Like every kid, I grew up with the aspirations of my parents yoked on my shoulders. And like every kid, I had come to a point where I had to honestly evaluate whether or not those expectations were for me.
While I was at Queen's, I auditioned for and was cast in their production of Guys and Dolls (Harry the Horse). If you watch the movie he's played as a straight man, pretty boring. I remember in the audition, the director (after I'd read the first time) asked for an angrier reading. I ended up doing an odd Gilbert Gottfried-esque reading, which they loved. ANYways, I was cast in that, and I ended up playing computer games until 3-4 am, sleeping through my morning classes, plain old not going to my afternoon classes and then going to rehearsals later in the evenings, which I never missed.
That's sort of where I stopped. Classes didn't interest me. At York I would wake up, drive all the way to the university (about 30-45 minutes) and then sleep in my car because I didn't feel like going to class. But I could always get myself to rehearsals. So why not give that a shot? I found out about Sheridan and Ryerson, both in the Toronto area, and also had a friend from Queen's who'd had a friend who'd gone to this school in New York, AMDA. So those were the three options I settled on.
Again, laziness. I completely screwed myself out of Sheridan and Ryerson, messing up those auditions. With a lot of help from my girl at the time I managed to put it together for the AMDA audition and got in, bringing me here. 2 years later I finished up at AMDA (Feb, 2003) and started auditioning. Did that for a year, then found out my visa was going to expire and there was nothing I could do, short of getting married, because I hadn't gotten a Bachelor's in the States. Luckily, AMDA had an arrangement with The New School University (here in NY) where your time at AMDA was fully credited to you, towards a BFA. So now I'm going there, with a chance to finish up what I started way back in 1998.
I don't know if I believe that you can learn from your mistakes. The way I see it, when you make a big mistake - well, first of all you don't usually recognize it as a mistake until some time has passed. But when you realize, in hindsight, that you've made a mistake, that mistake is typically because of a personal failing. To a large degree, the person that you are going to be is fully formed by the time you finish high school. That's why all the future social interactions you have are just like high school - because few, if any people, ever get away from that mentality. Once you get into college and beyond, you can try your best to avoid it and succeed to a certain extent, but if you work in an office; if you go to a church; if you have almost any interaction with groups of people the same relationships will emerge.
What I do believe about mistakes, though, is that they and the situtations they place you in help to define you as a person. Everyone has their own personal issues to deal with, and it is these issues and how we respond to them that create our personalities. Would I be here in New York if I hadn't failed out of Queen's? No. Would I be here in New York if I hadn't failed out of York after failing out of Queen's? No. I suppose you could argue that being in New York is more of a situation, and has little to do with my personality and its change. But I would respond that you've never lived in New York.
This is really long, but I'm still not tired. Going to wrap this up and start another.
Yay
gogo blog!
As the title suggests, I am an actor. And no, I'm probably not in anything you've seen. I suppose a cynic would say that makes me an aspiring actor, which I'm ok with too. Currently, I'm living in New York City - moved here from Mississauga, Ontario (Canada) in 2001 for theater school (AMDA - the American Musical and Dramatic Academy).
The title of the blog (for those wondering) is shamelessly stolen from a Douglas Coupland book, Microserfs. I recommend it to anyone looking for an interesting read; he's one of my favorite authors because a) he has a great ear for dialogue, and b) he speaks for a lot of Generation X (which is actually a little bit older than me, I think) - specifically, the loss of direction that typifies many of the people who grew up in that generation and in the years since then. But where an author like Chuck Palahniuk (Fight Club, Choke) turns those feelings into dark commentary, Coupland's tends to be more on the reflective side, with a lighter ultimate message. That's not to say Palahniuk isn't good in his own right; his writing is excellent as well, but I'm a bit more familiar with Coupland's.
Plus, Actor Club sounds like either a bad high school drama group or a John Hughes spoof.
As the title suggests, I am an actor. And no, I'm probably not in anything you've seen. I suppose a cynic would say that makes me an aspiring actor, which I'm ok with too. Currently, I'm living in New York City - moved here from Mississauga, Ontario (Canada) in 2001 for theater school (AMDA - the American Musical and Dramatic Academy).
The title of the blog (for those wondering) is shamelessly stolen from a Douglas Coupland book, Microserfs. I recommend it to anyone looking for an interesting read; he's one of my favorite authors because a) he has a great ear for dialogue, and b) he speaks for a lot of Generation X (which is actually a little bit older than me, I think) - specifically, the loss of direction that typifies many of the people who grew up in that generation and in the years since then. But where an author like Chuck Palahniuk (Fight Club, Choke) turns those feelings into dark commentary, Coupland's tends to be more on the reflective side, with a lighter ultimate message. That's not to say Palahniuk isn't good in his own right; his writing is excellent as well, but I'm a bit more familiar with Coupland's.
Plus, Actor Club sounds like either a bad high school drama group or a John Hughes spoof.
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