TheatreAddict.com - Bakersfield Drama Blog

It's chapter 7 of the Bakersfield Theatre saga as told by Rob Long. You can comment on the blog on MySpace by clicking here.

Ah, time to revisit theatre. Cool.

In the early 90s, Jamie invited me over to BCT from BC to audition for something. I think. I'm gonna mess up a lot of details here, because my years with BCT were conjoint with the strongest years of ComedySportz, and there is only room in the brain to store so much. I think my first show for BCT was the one-act Auto-Erotic Misadventure, in which I played a homosexual male prostitute, and I would have trouble fighting that typecasting for the rest of my career.

Kidding. At least I think I'm kidding. Why, what have you heard?

I want to say that one of my first shows was The Nerd, for Porter Jamison. I played Willum Cubbert, the lead. A character who is the same age I am now, and who we dropped to 31 so I'd be at least remotely believable in the part. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's right - because Mendy Garcia and I have a running joke that in the same year, I was both her brother and her boyfriend. Brother in Hamlet at BC, boyfriend in the Nerd at BCT. We'll talk more about Mendy when we deal with CSUB. The Nerd was one of those shows that showed me what theatre was supposed to be like, or at least a production process that seemed right to me. A Lie of the Mind was another one of those shows, and it's no coincidence that those shows were both directed by Porter Jamison, albeit at different theatres.

My writing's been a little dry lately - I've been writing a lot of things to keep the juices flowing - that's partly because of the business of the school year hitting full stride, but it's also partly because the years where I worked for BCT were difficult years in my life (Yeah, I know, which years haven't been difficult - for any of us)... it's also partly because in all my ongoing series, I'm at points that are difficult to plow through. Stories that want to be told, but want to take their own sweet time in getting there.

So sequential narrative is very difficult here. It's tough to put the pieces in order. I met a lot of great people, did a lot of shows I was actually proud of. I mentionned the Nerd with Jamie. That's where I met Graham Bell, a very talented guy who seemed way too good at his craft to be in Bakersfield. I remember the one act festival we both directed for. I did a cheesy spy spoof called "The Brannock Device" (have to get back to that one), a piece of schlock comedy that starred Matt Lindsay (yep, Matt again) and one of the most far reaching crushes of both myself and one of my best friends, a crush on one Ms. Jenny Clayton. Crap, I hope that was her name (pretty sure it was - if it was REALLY important, I could go check my high school yearbooks). I can see her face very clearly... ah, but that's not why I'm here. Plus Steve Arvig and Harvey Nix... and eventually myself... Whereas I put out this piece of... well, tripe (hey, it was my first directing gig, and it still drew laughs, particularly for some innovative comedic bits the cast came up with), Graham put out a piece called "The Love Talker," and when I watched what was truly a one-act piece of art, I was never so deeply in love with Deanna Wells. God, she was amazing. Graham and I would have the chance to work together on "A Lion In Winter," directed by Cheri Ivey, one of the few people I have ever known who could consistently make a pair of leather pants work, and Deanna and I would get to work together on "Cat's Paw," an environmental-terrorist drama by William Mastrosimone. Rob Lang directed that one. Yeah. Rob Lang. Rob Lang directed Rob Long in "Cat's Paw." You don't know how much mileage Rob and I got out of those jokes whenever we'd meet up. I tried to cast Rob last year in "It Runs in the Family," and he came to the read through, but didn't have time. Rob's dealt with a lot of health issues over the last several years. So many that I'm uncomfortable talking about them. One story in particular made me cry, and I doubt anyone will understand the reference, so I'll just leave it at - Rob, I'm glad you stayed in the boat. Hell, HE may not remember what that means... and when I remind Jamie of the story, he'll remember, if he doesn't already.

I was on the tail of a golden age at BCT - at least it seemed that way to me. Credit Jamie. Credit Albert Ochoa. Credit Perry and Garry Ware, or Rob Lang. Credit the Gaines family. When I look back on it, now, with full hindsight, full retrospect, full appreciation for that era - the professionals of the theatrical community all worked there, and I was fortunate enough to learn at their feet, even though I was a cocky 21 year old asshole who thought he knew it all. I produced "Laughing Wild" with Julie Gaines (actually, she did the work - I just learned the process) and got to watch Matt do what I still consider an amazing show every night - why can I not remember who played the woman? I got to produce "Other People's Money" as the lead producer, and man was I a dick to Paul Linfesty. Sorry man, it was your show... I should have kept my comments about the game playing in the subtext to myself. I served on production boards, marketing boards. Boy, I put in some dues at BCT in the early 90s. And I was glad to do each and every job, and I wish I had had full appreciation for the community I was a part of out there at BCT. I got to work with Melissa Wood, and Eric Wilkerson, classmates from the Perry Ware days at West. I got to see Mandy Rees' "Equus," where Matt (yes, again) was naked on stage with ANOTHER crush of mine, Jennifer Willingham, and Chan played a horse.

Y'know, I don't think they're so much crushes as they are appreciations for the beauty of the women around me. I'm lucky that I've worked with and known a lot of amazing women in my life, and I truly appreciate the wonder of each and every one of them. You know who you are. And even if you don't, you'll think I'm referring to you here. =)

Oh, and I'd better mention Noelle Guest, or loyal readers will be pissed. She was in Blood Moon (which I think Jamie directed), which seemed to me to be the blueprint for "shocking" theatre, because despite the shock of the story, it left the true shock to your imagination, and that is where I believe true artistry lies.

Backstage at BCT, you'll find my fingerprints. Programs on the wall with my pictures and bios and credits in them... most everything else is gone. I truly hope they've rewired the electric since I had to patch a show before curtain, then go back and repatch the show for the second act. Debbie Terrell showed me how to do that, and I still don't know then if she knew what the term "Daisy Chain" meant when she explained what it meant electrically. I think she did. Not that _I_ know what it means.

But backstage is also where the demons of BCT live, as they do in most theatres. Even in the early 90s, the balance on the board has been shifting between community types, business types, and creative types. In the 90s, it wasn't uncommon for the theatre types (those with degrees, training, and experience) to gripe about the direction of the theatre as it was being guided by the non-theatre types. It's that same debate between artistic integrity and marketability that Jamie and I have been having since I was 19. That may be where it started, actually. And on top of that, since BCT is the oldest community theatre in California, plenty of people who aren't theatre types, but have a drive to do theatre even without the background are welcomed with open arms.

Nothing changes. And it isn't a new balance to be struck. It's shifted forever, first towards the business types, then towards the artistic types, then away from both. The trouble with that shift is that it makes the quality of the productions unreliable at best. Don't get me wrong, I've seen some great stuff at BCT. I've also seen some awful stuff at BCT over the last 16 years since I became aware of their existence. The problem becomes, when I decide how to spend my money, am I willing to take that risk?

I'm going to try to tread lightly here, because I want to address the concept of the dollar vote in a later blog about theatre... but in a free market economy, the producer must be aware of the demands of the market, and respond to them. I'll save all the other points for the pieces I'm going to write when I finish with my history in Bakersfield Theatre.

One of BCT's greatest strengths is that it owns its own space. On the other hand, one of its greatest weaknesses is that the space it owns is in a section of town that has largely grown away from it, and therefore the number one through three rules of business ("location, location,location") don't necessarily go in the plus side of the assets column.

BCT is a study in balance. When it's in balance, they do phenomenal work out there. I actually went to see "To Kill a Mockingbird" at BCT, and was more impressed with Terry Willey than I ever have been. Maybe I'm getting old and becoming a softie. I don't know.

When BCT is out of balance, I've felt like I'm flushing my money down the toilet. I'll stop there - again, I'm treading towards the things that have been said regarding my "involvement" in local theatre lately, and I don't want this blog to address them.

BCT is a powerhouse. They've found ways to harness certain facets of the community into their house, overcoming all of the obstacles to producing on South Chester and Wilson - take Rocky Horror, for example. So successful, I heard it got them out of debt and funded an entire season. No wonder they're doing it again.

On the other end of the spectrum, they've found and filled a niche for youth theatre that others (myself included) had identified, but not produced for nor filled. Those programs are incredibly successful... so somebody (or somebodies) at BCT are genius for coming up with a business strategy that overcomes the shortcomings of the location. Well done. And how you produce RHS as well as Children's Shows, and are still able to keep both ends of the consumer pool happy, I have no idea. Once a theatre has established its identity, it's very tough to stray from that identity, or pull a clientele from a different demographic. Kudos to finding a way to hit different ends of the market. Truly. Well done.

Oh, and in closing, a quick story. Last year I applied to direct two shows, and I applied to be on the board. A friend of mine had called me regarding the shortage of directorial applicants, and so I applied. One of the shows I wasn't that interested in directing, and it showed in the interview - I saw casting problems I wasn't sure I wanted to overcome, and the show hinged on a type of performer I wasn't sure I wanted to handle directorially. The other show also had casting issues, but the cast was small enough that I thought they were managable. The show just happened to be going up at a time when I was extremely busy, and I expressed that in the interview. The theatre offered me that second show, codirected with the friend who had invited me to apply. I was cool with that, but I didn't see how it would fit with my schedule, so I declined. In hindsight, that was an awesome decision. Not because of the show or the theatre, but because I needed that time in my life to be clear from things like directing.

My application to the board? Note that in every program, there are notices of how there are vacant board positions, and please apply. I was looking for a theatre to throw my support behind, and I was excited about the prospect.

They told me I needed to pay my dues - they needed to see me do things around the theatre in support capacities before I would be considered for the board.

In all probability, they'd been advised of my reputation as an unstable maverick, a troublemaker, a firebrand, an egotist, however you want to paint me, and that's cool. They did what they thought was best, just as we all do. And again, it may have actually been the decision that was best for me - I probably would have resigned a couple months later when my personal issues began to take hold. But at the time, my ego was pretty bruised. I think yours would be too if you put in 3+ years of your life as a supporting actor, a leading actor, member of multiple committees, director, and producer, and then were told years later that you hadn't yet paid your dues. Yeah, no thanks.

Those who forget the past are doomed to relive it. And in a community where most participants can't identify Albert Ochoa - without whom most of said participants would not be working - that scares me.

Yes, Albert directed at BCT. I think I mentionned that before. "I'm Not Rappaport" was staged there - still one of the greatest pieces of community theatre I've ever seen.

And yes, I'm sure sooner or later I'll get around to addressing those criticisms that have been levied at me, that don't seem within the purview of this story. Suffice it to say that I enjoy being who I am. I'm not afraid to call it as I see it, and though many may think my position is isolated - if you trust me on NOTHING else in your life, trust me on this: my voice is not alone. Many of the potential customers of theatre in this town echo my sentiments.

They just don't care enough to tell you. They shrug their shoulders, consider the money they've wasted on mediocre entertainment a lesson learned, and decide not to come back to local theatre. I'm like the friend who cares enough to point out when you're doing something that may hurt you, if you choose to look at me that way. Of course, if you choose to look at me the other way, I'm an iconoclastic demogogue who just wants to see everything everybody's accomplished torn down. There are certainly cases for both sides. But again, we'll get back to that. By the time I write it, it may be a moot point.

Oh, one more story. I said I'd get back to "The Brannock Device." This show is the beginning of an enmity between myself and a luminary of the theatrical community that stretches back to 1991. I hired her son to play a role in my one-act. He's a low energy fella, who I had shared a couple of theatre history classes at CSUB with. His read wasn't what I wanted, but next to Steve Arvig, he physically looked like what I wanted (yeah, I wasn't the best director back then... not that I am now either). So I tried him in the role.

Less than two weeks before opening, the cast unanimously asked me to get rid of him. Yes, even Matt. And if you can't imagine Matt Lindsay doing that? Yeah, that's how rough the situation was. None of the comedy in the show was working. I'd work the timing of scenes for hours, think he had it, then discover at the next rehearsal that he'd forgotten everything we worked. I remember Jenny Clayton telling me he was a black hole on stage, that she felt herself becoming more lethargic from just being near him, as he drained everything she had.

How do you deal with that as a first-time director at the age of 19? I couldn't fix it, so I let him go.

I sat the cast down and talked about it with them. I gave them three options - reshuffle the cast so a less important role would be the vacant one, bring in another actor to fill whichever role we decided would be vacant, or do the role myself.

I was 19. I knew they were going to want me to do it, but I honestly didn't want to. I gave them the options because me doing the role made the most sense, but I was praying they would want something else, so I could stay out of it.

They wanted me to do it. So I did. And it was fun.

And then the long letter (I want to say it was 4 pages) was sent to the board from the actor's mother. The one saying I had hired him as a placeholder in the beginning, and that I had always intended to play the part myself. The board member who showed me the letter told me not to worry about it - her reputation wasn't much better then (or now) as mine was then (or now), and that they knew that I had done no such thing. Especially since I had consulted with the artistic director of the one act festival before making that decision. That artistic director was either Jamie, or Albert, or Julie. I can't remember which at the moment. In any event, enough of a perceived set-up that the mother held that against me too.

I've steered clear of that family as much as possible ever since.

And no, it wasn't true. I really didn't want to do the role. I wanted to get back to ComedySportz as soon as possible.

Ah, BCT. Good times. I don't remember what my last show for them was - and the reason I don't remember was that it was spring of 1993, and I was working midnight - 8:30 a.m. at KUZZ TV45, then getting two hours sleep, going to class for several hours, getting a couple more hours sleep, then heading down to the theatre for rehearsal. That might've been "Lion in Winter," but I honestly dunno. Writing about that reminds me what it felt like to be 22 and completely exhausted every day. I remember how sleep felt. It's 1 a.m. now, and I can feel that '7 more to go' sensation of working graveyard at the tv station. Everybody should do that sometime in their life, if only so that they come to appreciate the daytime better.

Well, I seem to have worked through that writer's block I had earlier. All that remains is a good ending to the piece, wrapping it all up.

I'm not going to write one.

Pax.