| While walking down the street one day, a US senator is tragically hit by a truck and dies. His soul arrives in heaven and is met by Saint Peter at the entrance. "Welcome to heaven," says Peter warmly. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. You see, we seldom see a high official around here, so we're not altogether sure what to do with you." "No problem," the senator responds. "Just let me in." "Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where you would like to spend eternity." "Really, I've made up my mind," says the senator. "I want to be in heaven." "I'm sorry," Peter speaks softly, shaking his head, "but we have our rules." With that, Saint Peter escorts the senator to the elevator which he rides down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush green golf course. In the distance, there is a clubhouse and standing in front of it, all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is very having a wonderful time. They're dressed in fine evening apparel as they greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce for hours about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They play a friendly game of golf and dine on lobster, caviar, and expensive champagne. Now the devil is also present. He is actually a very friendly guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that before he realizes it, it is time to go. Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises, taking him back to where Saint Peter is waiting.... "Welcome back. Now it's time to visit heaven." So, for another twenty-four hours the senator joins a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the time has gone and Peter returns for the senator's decision. "Well, then," Saitn Peter starts. "You've spent a day in hell and a day in heaven. Now which do you choose for eternity?" The senator reflects for a minute before he answers: "Well, I would never have said it before. I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell." So, Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes back down to hell. Now the doors of the elevator open, he finds himself in the middle of a waste land so vast he can see no end to it. It's covered with foul debris and garbage. All his friends are covered in lesions and dressed in rags. They spend their time picking up the trash and debris, putting it in black bags as more trash falls continuously from above. The cheerful devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. "I don't understand," the senator stammers. "Yesterday, when I was here, there was a golf course and clubhouse; we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced. It was great! Now, all I can see is a foul smelling wasteland, full of garbage. My friends look miserable. What happened?" The devil looks at him with a smug grin and says, "Yesterday we were campaigning. Today, you voted." |
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
WHAT GOES AROUND, DOES INDEED COME AROUND...
Thursday, February 7, 2008
GABRIEL BYRNE: TV's Sweet Treat!
Okay, I admit it. I've been watching TV. I have become completely hooked on HBO's new half hour drama, In Treatment.
I'll be writing my thoughts on the show as it progresses, but, today, I'm just making note of how delighted I am to see Gabriel Byrne again!
I first saw him a few years ago in NYC. He was appearing in Eugene O'Neill's A Moon for the Misbegotten, and I was utterly mesmerized by his performance. Since then, I miss no opportunity to see him. A fan? Me? Well, glory be, I guess I am. ... and I dare suggest you will be, too, once you experience his work.
It was the spring of two-thousand. I obtained tickets to the (sold out) play which was onstage at the Walter Kerr Theater, one of the medium sized houses. Eugene O'Neill happens to be one of my favorite playwrights, and the idea of seeing the exquisite Ray Dotrice in the role of Phil Hogan made it an irresistible must-see. (Now that I think of it, I'm fairly certain Mr. Dotrice won the Tony for this portrayal in the Best Actor in a Featured Role category).
It was the first time I ever saw Gabriel Byrne. He was the brave soul who took on the challenging role of James Tyrone, Jr. and I had no idea what to expect where he was concerned. Not terribly ambitious about learning, I checked briefly online, and read that he was an Irish Actor. Saints preserve us! Being the Anglophile that I am, this pleased me immensely, and enough said. (As it happens, I am also fairly certain that Mr. Byrne was nominated for a Tony for this part, but I do not believe he took the statue home...)
Cherry Jones, another under appreciated, superbly brilliant actress rounded out the cast as Josie Hogan. This put me over the moon. I was just desperate for the days to pass until I would see it!
__
Sitting in the theater, in my center section aisle seat in the tenth row, I checked my watch repeatedly as the auditorium filled to capacity. Finally, the lights lowered and the audience hushed as the curtain began to move. I held my breath...
There is no way for this writer to separate one performance, that Sunday afternoon, from the other. Each acted and reacted to the other in perfect harmony, if you'll forgive me the cliche: like an impeccably rehearsed symphony.
Gabriel Byrne stood out for me because I had never seen him before and, forgive me again, I can be an awful snob when it comes to live theater. He took hold of that character and transported me and, I think, everyone else to the 1940s. It was not just O'Neill's words that took us away; Byrne's body language, his very demeanor, was of a time gone by. What a lovely, magical partnership!
Byrne's obvious love of the material shone through. So many actors simply say lines and move about the stage, gesturing as instructed, and they get rave reviews for doing it. I have been guilty, too, of this kind of acceptance - and as long as I am entertained, this is all right with me... uh, most of the time. It's a given, our Mr. Byrne could have gotten away with giving much less than he did. Fortunately for his audience, however, it would not have been enough for him! He didn't perform Tyrone; he channeled him. There was no definitive line between the here and now and the once upon a time. The assemblage around me disappeared, and I was taken into the story, the proverbial fly on the wall of a real happening.
I want to share about the one jarring moment, that afternoon, that sealed my bond as a fan of this man's work and talent. It was near the play's conclusion. Gabriel Byrne was in the midst of the emotional third act monologue where James Tyrone speaks loving words of confession and apology, revealing the depth of his personhood to Josie Hagen. It is a heart wrenchingly serious time in the play which has, up to this point, been peppered with O'Neill's perfectly placed moments of comedic hilarity.
One of the male audience members, up front and to the actors' right, (my left), made it abundantly clear that he had no knowledge of the story and no realization of the depth of what was happening. He misunderstood the character's intent and let loose a startling guffaw at the precise moment when the actor was escorting the audience to the story's emotional crescendo. The outburst seemed extremely loud, but that may have been because the theater was silent, except for Byrne's voice. My heart sank for the actor as the explosive disturbance caused every head in the audience to turn. I wondered how he would be able to maintain his momentum and the integrity of the scene. Feeling generous, I decided no matter how he chose to handle it, my admiration for his performance would remain intact.
To my astonishment, Mr. Byrne did not need my forgiveness. His hold on the character, the time and space, and the audience never faltered. Without any sign on his face or in his cadence that he heard the young man's misguided outburst, he skillfully ushered us along on our journey to the story's conclusion and kept us unscathed.
To this day, I remember that moment, and I don't know how he did it. I have seen things like this happen to other performers and felt just as heartsick for them as I did for Mr. Byrne. Some chose to step out of character and acknowledge the evil-doer, with humor or admonishment; others hesitate, regroup, and start the scene from a previous point. One actor actually forgot the next few lines and took a moment to re-compose himself, but he had lost his focus and the character - and the scene fell flat. All these reactions were understandable. Things happen in live theater, and I feel it would be unjust to hold the actors accountable. (It's a certainty I could not do it.)
I simply do not believe the talent and presence of mind Gabriel Byrne exhibited that afternoon comes along every day. The point I mean to make is: even though I was affected emotionally in that I was so relieved and happy for Byrne because he was not yanked out of character, he continued with such impeccable timing and grace that my exuberance was shelved. It did not come through until after I had thoroughly experienced the emotion and sensitivity O'Neill intended.
Cherry Jones as Josie Hagen comforts Jim Tyrone played by Gabriel Byrne
Eugene Oneill's A Moon for the Misbegotten
Walter Kerr Theater - Spring of 2,000
It was very personal. I shudder just thinking about it, and I know my words fail miserably to express how amazing it was! An unforgettable gift to witness it first hand! Someday, I hope to thank him for his love of the material, his selfless generosity to his audience, and his desire - or was it determination - to share both with us that day.
__
Recently, I saw the play again... with Kevin Spacey in the role of James Tyrone, Jr. Normally, I cannot be objective where Spacey is concerned, because he is one of my favorite actors. In this case, however, I have to confess, he could not inhabit the person of Tyrone for me. It belongs forever to someone else. I found myself longing to see Byrne again.
I'm thinking In Treatment may turn out to be treatment for me!
There. Now that I have that out of my system, I'll move on to discussing the show: Uh, I like it. *chortle* It satisfies some seedy sense of voyeurism I never knew I had in me...
More later.
CM
Photo: Courtesy NY TIMES
© Copyright 2008 Carol Marsella. All rights reserved.
I'll be writing my thoughts on the show as it progresses, but, today, I'm just making note of how delighted I am to see Gabriel Byrne again!
I first saw him a few years ago in NYC. He was appearing in Eugene O'Neill's A Moon for the Misbegotten, and I was utterly mesmerized by his performance. Since then, I miss no opportunity to see him. A fan? Me? Well, glory be, I guess I am. ... and I dare suggest you will be, too, once you experience his work.
It was the spring of two-thousand. I obtained tickets to the (sold out) play which was onstage at the Walter Kerr Theater, one of the medium sized houses. Eugene O'Neill happens to be one of my favorite playwrights, and the idea of seeing the exquisite Ray Dotrice in the role of Phil Hogan made it an irresistible must-see. (Now that I think of it, I'm fairly certain Mr. Dotrice won the Tony for this portrayal in the Best Actor in a Featured Role category).
It was the first time I ever saw Gabriel Byrne. He was the brave soul who took on the challenging role of James Tyrone, Jr. and I had no idea what to expect where he was concerned. Not terribly ambitious about learning, I checked briefly online, and read that he was an Irish Actor. Saints preserve us! Being the Anglophile that I am, this pleased me immensely, and enough said. (As it happens, I am also fairly certain that Mr. Byrne was nominated for a Tony for this part, but I do not believe he took the statue home...)
Cherry Jones, another under appreciated, superbly brilliant actress rounded out the cast as Josie Hogan. This put me over the moon. I was just desperate for the days to pass until I would see it!
Sitting in the theater, in my center section aisle seat in the tenth row, I checked my watch repeatedly as the auditorium filled to capacity. Finally, the lights lowered and the audience hushed as the curtain began to move. I held my breath...
There is no way for this writer to separate one performance, that Sunday afternoon, from the other. Each acted and reacted to the other in perfect harmony, if you'll forgive me the cliche: like an impeccably rehearsed symphony.
Gabriel Byrne stood out for me because I had never seen him before and, forgive me again, I can be an awful snob when it comes to live theater. He took hold of that character and transported me and, I think, everyone else to the 1940s. It was not just O'Neill's words that took us away; Byrne's body language, his very demeanor, was of a time gone by. What a lovely, magical partnership!
Byrne's obvious love of the material shone through. So many actors simply say lines and move about the stage, gesturing as instructed, and they get rave reviews for doing it. I have been guilty, too, of this kind of acceptance - and as long as I am entertained, this is all right with me... uh, most of the time. It's a given, our Mr. Byrne could have gotten away with giving much less than he did. Fortunately for his audience, however, it would not have been enough for him! He didn't perform Tyrone; he channeled him. There was no definitive line between the here and now and the once upon a time. The assemblage around me disappeared, and I was taken into the story, the proverbial fly on the wall of a real happening.
I want to share about the one jarring moment, that afternoon, that sealed my bond as a fan of this man's work and talent. It was near the play's conclusion. Gabriel Byrne was in the midst of the emotional third act monologue where James Tyrone speaks loving words of confession and apology, revealing the depth of his personhood to Josie Hagen. It is a heart wrenchingly serious time in the play which has, up to this point, been peppered with O'Neill's perfectly placed moments of comedic hilarity.
One of the male audience members, up front and to the actors' right, (my left), made it abundantly clear that he had no knowledge of the story and no realization of the depth of what was happening. He misunderstood the character's intent and let loose a startling guffaw at the precise moment when the actor was escorting the audience to the story's emotional crescendo. The outburst seemed extremely loud, but that may have been because the theater was silent, except for Byrne's voice. My heart sank for the actor as the explosive disturbance caused every head in the audience to turn. I wondered how he would be able to maintain his momentum and the integrity of the scene. Feeling generous, I decided no matter how he chose to handle it, my admiration for his performance would remain intact.
To my astonishment, Mr. Byrne did not need my forgiveness. His hold on the character, the time and space, and the audience never faltered. Without any sign on his face or in his cadence that he heard the young man's misguided outburst, he skillfully ushered us along on our journey to the story's conclusion and kept us unscathed.
To this day, I remember that moment, and I don't know how he did it. I have seen things like this happen to other performers and felt just as heartsick for them as I did for Mr. Byrne. Some chose to step out of character and acknowledge the evil-doer, with humor or admonishment; others hesitate, regroup, and start the scene from a previous point. One actor actually forgot the next few lines and took a moment to re-compose himself, but he had lost his focus and the character - and the scene fell flat. All these reactions were understandable. Things happen in live theater, and I feel it would be unjust to hold the actors accountable. (It's a certainty I could not do it.)
I simply do not believe the talent and presence of mind Gabriel Byrne exhibited that afternoon comes along every day. The point I mean to make is: even though I was affected emotionally in that I was so relieved and happy for Byrne because he was not yanked out of character, he continued with such impeccable timing and grace that my exuberance was shelved. It did not come through until after I had thoroughly experienced the emotion and sensitivity O'Neill intended.
Cherry Jones as Josie Hagen comforts Jim Tyrone played by Gabriel Byrne
Eugene Oneill's A Moon for the Misbegotten
Walter Kerr Theater - Spring of 2,000
It was very personal. I shudder just thinking about it, and I know my words fail miserably to express how amazing it was! An unforgettable gift to witness it first hand! Someday, I hope to thank him for his love of the material, his selfless generosity to his audience, and his desire - or was it determination - to share both with us that day.
Recently, I saw the play again... with Kevin Spacey in the role of James Tyrone, Jr. Normally, I cannot be objective where Spacey is concerned, because he is one of my favorite actors. In this case, however, I have to confess, he could not inhabit the person of Tyrone for me. It belongs forever to someone else. I found myself longing to see Byrne again.
I'm thinking In Treatment may turn out to be treatment for me!
There. Now that I have that out of my system, I'll move on to discussing the show: Uh, I like it. *chortle* It satisfies some seedy sense of voyeurism I never knew I had in me...
More later.
CM
Photo: Courtesy NY TIMES
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