The Heavy Lifting.

Joy is a revolutionary act.

[theheavylifting]

Andrew Perez as Mace.

San Jose Stage/Capital Stage, Sacramento. 2013.

The first in a series.

These are the guys who have done the heavy lifting.

[theheavylifting]

Didn't realize Louis CK was religious like that.

[theheavylifting]

I'm cheating on this week's #freescenes. Think of this as more of a challenge.

Take this amazing monologue (one that I didn't write), and make your own thing from it. Your version. Same words if you want. Same concept if you want. Or just go freaking insane.

I actually have some regular #freescenes stuff to share, but this is way too good of an opportunity.

[theheavylifting]

Finally #freescenes.

I've been meaning to post this for a long time. 

I'm getting it up now so it's technically here on a Friday (on the West Coast at least). #freescenes is hopefully going to be a Friday thing now.

I'll repost and comment later, but here's a nice long free scene for y'all.

***

Shaquille O'Neal and christian laEttner discuss...

scene one

MUSIC: “Jump Around” by House of Pain.

SHAQ sits at a card table, playing cards.

CHRISTIAN LAETTNER enters, dancing (he's doing the East Coast Stomp, to be specific).

Christian laettner

It's the best hip-hop song of the year, man.

Shaq

Good song.

Christian laettner

Best hip-hop song of the year, bro, I'm telling you, man, this changes everything, man.

Shaq

Sit down and play cards, Christian Laettner.

Christian laettner

And it's not a white thing, man. I went to Duke, not Notre Dame. No Fighting Irish thing, man. Just hip-hop, bro. We listened to this song after we won the tournament, man, and we jumped around, man, when it got to the jump around part, we jumped around, you can imagine, man, we celebrated and we jumped up jumped up and get down jump jump jump jump--

shaq

Christian Laettner. Sit down. Play cards.

Christian laettner

Wow, okay, sorry.

Christian Laettner.

You always call me Christian Laettner.

You're so formal, Shaquille O'Neal.

Shaq

My name is Shaq.

Christian laettner

Whatever you say, Shaquille O--

shaq

Shaq.

Christian laettner

Okay. Shaq. You're the number one draft pick, right. Whatever you say, Shaq.

Shaq

Come play cards.

Christian laettner

Why bother? You're going to win.

You're better than me at cards.

Shaq

Better than you at most things.

Christian laettner

Well, I don't know, let's not get crazy--

shaq

Better than you at basketball.

Silence.

Christian laettner

Tell me one better hip-hop song this year.

Shaq

Play cards.

Christian laettner

And don't say Jump, because that's just a rip-off of Jump Around--

shaq

Didn't say Jump.

Christian laettner

I mean, listen to it.

Christian Laettner plays “Jump” by Kris Kross.

No, really, listen to it, I know you're going to argue with me about it, but listen, it's a rip-off. We wouldn't have listened to this after winning the tournament.

Shaq

I know you won the tournament.

Shut up. Sit down.

Play cards.

Christian laettner

Oooh. What's the matter? Sensitive, Big Man?

Shaq

Name is Shaq.

Christian laettner

My name is “I Won The NCAA Tournament and Hit The Turn-Around Jumper Shot of The Century and Probably Should Have Been Tournament MVP But My Boy Bobby Hurley Won It and He's From Duke Anyway and We Won The Tournament Anyway.” That's my name.

Show me your cards.

Shaq shows his cards.

Damn.

Christian Laettner pushes the pot towards Shaq.

Can't believe you like this song.

Shaq

Didn't say I like it.

Shaq pushes the cards to Christian Laettner.

Deal.

Christian laettner

Why? You're just going to beat me again.

Shaq

Yes I am. Deal.

Christian laettner

You get your call about the Dream Team yet?

No response.

I'm gonna play my song again.

Shaq

They called you about the Dream Team?

Christian Laettner plays “Jump Around.” His dancing serves as the answer to Shaq's question.

They offered you a spot?

Christian Laettner dances.

Christian Laettner. They offered you a spot on the Dream Team? The last spot. The last spot on the Dream Team.

The Olympic Dream Team.

That Dream Team.

They offered it to you?

They offered the last spot on the Olympic Dream Team to you?

Christian Laettner? The Dream Team? You?

Shaq stops the music.

Christian laettner

Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Karl Malone, Charles Barkley, John Stockton, David Robinson, Patrick Ewing, Chris Mullin, Scottie Pippen, Clyde Drexler...and me.

Christian.

Laettner.

Silence.

Oh come on, big guy.

You get in where you fit in.

Bird's hurt.

And they already have plenty of big men.

But don't worry. They won't play forever.

You'll make the team in four years. Maybe eight.

Christian Laettner deals.

Shaq

I don't want to play this game anymore.

Shaq gets up and goes to the stereo.

Christian laettner

Come on, O'Neal! You're going to beat me, I'm sure.

Shaq

Name is Shaq.

Shaq plays “The Choice is Yours” by Black Sheep.

Best hip-hop song of the year.

Christian laettner

Oooh. Good song. But still--

shaq

Best hip-hop song of the year. House of Pain ripped them off.

Christian laettner

Whatever. That's crazy. I'm dealing.

Shaq

Best hip-hop song of the year, Christian Laettner.

Listen to the part that the white boys stole.

Shaq fast forwards the CD.

Christian laettner

Oh man, what, man? Why's it gotta be about white guys?

Shaq

Be quiet, Christian Laettner. Listen.

Shaq plays the “engine, engine, number nine/on the New York transit line/if my train goes off the track/pick it up, pick it up, pick it up/BACK” part of “The Choice is Yours.”

How does the dance to that go, Christian Laettner?

Christian laettner

Why is it about white guys though?

Shaq

You know how the dance goes, Christian Laettner.

Show me how it goes.

I'll do it with you.

Shaq plays the “engine, engine, number nine” part again.

They do the appropriate dance.

It ends with them jumping around.

Christian laettner

Whatever, man. That's not the point.

Those little boys in Kris Kross totally ripped off House of Pain.

Shaq

House of Pain ripped off Black Sheep.

Christian laettner

That's one part in one video! And I'm not even sure the video came out before the House of Pain song. Maybe Black Sheep ripped off House of Pain too. Yeah, man, that's it. Totally ripped them off. Bit their style.

Shaq

Bit?

Christian laettner

Their style, yeah. Their steelo.

Shaq

You're so white, Christian Laettner.

Christian laettner

Again, man? Really? You're making it a white thing again.

Shaq

Why do you like House of Pain so much?

Christian laettner

I can't like white rappers?

Shaq

Answer.

Christian laettner

They made a great song!

Shaq

So did Black Sheep.

Christian laettner

But the House of Pain guys are tough. I mean, listen to them.

He plays “Jump Around.”

I mean, that horn, that squeal, and then you can just East Coast Stomp to the whole thing, and just UNNH -- JUMP JUMP -- so fucking tough.

Shaq

We got some tough rappers too.

Christian laettner

We what? Black people?

Shaq

Redman's pretty tough. Brand Nubian – very tough, Christian Laettner.

Christian laettner

It's not a white thing!

Shaq

Oh, you know who's tough? Ice Cube. Ice Cube's kind of crazy tough. You like Ice Cube, Christian Laettner?

Silence.

Christian laettner

I'm not getting into a debate with you about the riots.

Shaq

A debate.

Christian laettner

An argument, whatever. I just like the song.

Shaq

You think I want to get into a debate about the riots.

Christian laettner

Let's play cards, man.

Shaq

The Los Angeles Riots. You think I want to get into a debate about those.

A debate.

Is there something to debate about the riots, Christian Laettner?

Christian laettner

I saw Do The Right Thing, man. I know people debated about that riot.

Shaq

That was a movie they were debating, not a riot.

Christian laettner

So was White Men Can't Jump.

Shaq

True. But White Men Can't Jump was true though.

Christian laettner

And so was the riot in Do The Right Thing.

Shaq

Maybe. It was prescient, Christian Laettner.

It predicted the future.

Maybe people should have been ready.

Silence.

They really offered you a spot on the Dream Team?

Christian laettner

It's not like I'm ever going to play.

Silence.

Christian Laettner deals the cards.

They play.

I'd trade my NCAA title to have been number one pick in the draft like you, you know.

Shaq

No, you wouldn't.

Christian laettner

Yeah. I totally would, man.

They play.

Shaq

I'd trade being number one in the draft to play on the Dream Team.

Silence.

Christian laettner

Yeah. That's going to be pretty cool.

They play.

Shaq

I win again.

Christian laettner

Damn.

Christian Laettner pushes his chips over to Shaq.

They continue to play.

END OF PLAY.

[theheavylifting]

The upcoming production of Welcome to Arroyo's has some amazing things happening all around it. This newly designed mural is one of them. 

I'm thrilled to be attending the production and spending a few days at Tufts later this month.

[theheavylifting]

College productions of CHAD DEITY blow my mind.

Also: #freescenes returns Friday.

[theheavylifting]

An Interview (Sort Of) With Me.

So I recently answered a bunch of questions for a theater class at Texas A&M, and I thought the responses might be fun to share. So here you go!

(And yes, #freescenes will be back. Someday. I swear. Lots of them.)

The play in production: 1. Are different productions choreographed differently, or about the same?

Every production has its own unique approach to the wrestling sequences. Each production uses different directors, different fight choreographers, different actors, and different sets, which leads to different choreography. The production in Minneapolis only had ropes on three side of its wrestling ring -- that changes everything. We've had some productions with real wrestlers involved (guys like Al Snow, Jamin Olivencia, and Paredyse), and they've done some really intense matches. We've had other shows with less athletic guys involved, and they've adjusted accordingly. The main thing is for each production to do whatever it can so the boys don't get hurt.

  2. What actor's or director's spin on a role surprised you the most?

We hired an English actor (Steve Valentine) to play EKO in the Los Angeles production. At first, we were concerned about his accent, but it actually turned out for the best. EKO became an outsider who packaged up American patriotism and sold it to Americans, even though he really had no connection to the US at all. I loved that spin.

  3. How do productions deal with potential harm to actors?

They go slow. The best productions build in some extra time for the actors to work on the wrestling. Everybody's got to be in phenomenal shape: lots of stretching, lots of building up the muscles in their back and shoulders (the more muscle you've got back there, the less it hurts when you fall). The most important thing is that the actors take the physical side of things as seriously as is humanly possible. When you get careless, that's when you get hurt.

  4. What process do theatre companies use in casting the actors?

Usually a combination of local auditions and asking around. There's a nice pool of actors who have done the show now, and a lot of them get asked to revisit the show in other productions (especially for the role of VP, who is usually the most difficult role to cast). 

5. How are Mace's inner thoughts separated from what he says out loud?

This depends on the production, but my general rule of thumb: Mace is usually talking to us, the audience. He's allowed to look right at us, joke with us, react to our reactions, sometimes even come out and physically interact with us. When we're in his head, he isn't bound by the fourth wall. He can kind of do whatever he wants. When he's speaking out loud to the other characters, he's got to play by the rules of theater. He can't directly address us anymore.  And that connects to this question:

2. In the ending, how do the shifts in tone make themselves apparent?

Again, this can change from production to production, but from my perspective, we start to watch Mace's inner thoughts and what he says out loud merge into the same thing. In a way, the play is about a guy who has a lot to say but is afraid to say it. He's telling us about all the things he thinks are wrong with his job and the way the world works, but he wants to keep his job, so he won't say any of it to the people who really need to hear it (like his boss). The top of the play tries to get comedy out of that idea; the last fifteen minutes or so try to explore the more tragic side of swallowing your story.

1. What percentage of the play's message actually relies on wrestling?

Not too much, hopefully. I try to explain all the wrestling stuff as clearly as possible, knowing that most audience members won't know (or even like) wrestling at all. Ultimately, it's a metaphor, and hopefully it's open to interpretation. For me, it's not a play critiquing the WWE. It's a play that uses the WWE as a lens from which to view contemporary American life. 3. Does EKO represent the American people, or is he just a Vince McMahon-style promoter?

Great question. Hopefully, that's up for the audience to decide. I think EKO is a businessman, pure and simple. In that, I think he's similar not only to Vince McMahon, but also to many politicians, businessmen, and average Americans. I've got a little bit of EKO inside me, a part that just wants to focus on making things that sell, not things that make a political statement. That's what I try to do with my characters -- explore different sides of my own personality. Even with a "bad guy" like EKO.

4. How did you decide upon the ethnicities for your characters? Did they come quickly or was it a difficult thought process?

They came first. I knew the characters I wanted to explore before I knew all of the story. Ethnicity is an important theme for me. I also wanted to create roles for great actors I knew -- so I made the characters share their ethnicities. These roles are also based on real pro wrestling figures (Vince, The Rock, Muhammad Hassan, Chavo and Eddie Guerrero), so there wasn't a whole lot of uncertainty about who I wanted them to be.

5. Why wrestling? Were there other platforms you considered? If so, what platform might you have used instead?

I was (and probably still am) a massive wrestling fan growing up. I know more about wrestling than I do about anything else (maybe including theater). I set out to write a play that explored (a) why I loved wrestling so much, (b) why wrestling could be so horribly racist so often, and (c) if there were any parallels to American society in general. Turns out there were lots.

6. Why does Chad Deity talk in third person?

Short answer: he's based on The Rock, who always speaks in third person when wrestling. Longer answer: it's a quick way to show that he's self-obsessed. That's not longer at all.

  7. What was your reason for making the main character the narrator?

I wasn't sure what the plot of the play was going to be, so I just started writing. I wrote the opening monologue in a few hours (it was much longer back then) without an outline or any real plan. I decided to just start writing from the perspective of a guy who loved wrestling. As I wrote, the character revealed to me that he was a wrestler, a good wrestler, and an unappreciated wrestler. That's when I knew it was his story -- and his to tell.

8. Why did you choose to give Mace a grandfather figure over other relatives/influences?

Not sure. It just came out like that in the writing, and it felt right. There's something powerful to me about him remembering his grandfather in the middle of his meltdown at the end of the play, something about history and legacy. He feels like he's letting his grandfather down by not speaking up. I think that might be what finally sets him off. Could have been a mother or father, but Mace felt like a guy raised by his grandpa.

9. Do you feel like Chad Deity is a "man's play?" It does a good job of bridging the gap between a "normal" theatre audience and a more "masculine" theatre audience.

I hope it's a play for everyone. Some of the best responses we've gotten have been from little old ladies who watched wrestling with their fathers when they were younger, or from women who said they expected to hate the play when they found out it was about wrestling, but ended up really connecting to it. That said, if having some element of "sports" in the show gets more guys to dig it, I'm all for it. I personally don't really like a lot of plays where rich people sit on couches and drink wine (some of them are great; Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf is maybe my favorite of all plays). I like plays where things get loud and messy. Maybe that's a guy thing. I'm not sure. 

Your process: 1. What came first in your creative process, the vehicle of wrestling, or the message that needed to be conveyed?

Wrestling was probably first. I knew I wanted to write a show about wrestling for a few years, just because I had been such a huge wrestling nerd as a kid and I wanted to be able to put all that useless knowledge to some kind of good use. It took me a while to realize what themes I wanted to explore, but once I did, it all clicked into place pretty quickly.

  2. Why is the script broken up into acts and not scenes?

The nerdy structural answer is that the story is really divided into four parts: the prologue (Mace tells us why he loves his job), Act One (Mace's rise to the top), Act Two (Mace's fall back to the bottom), and the epilogue (Mace's message reaching someone -- VP's lady friend). I divided the script in the way that would most help me keep the story focused on those main points. There aren't scenes because I don't want to give directors any ideas about blackouts. No blackouts. I hate blackouts. There are no blackouts in wrestling or on television or in sports. There are commercials, but the story never stops being told. With no scene breaks, there's no place to be tempted to put a blackout.

3. Is your personal life incorporated into this script? How so?

The opening monologue is basically my true story of being a wrestling fan. The rest of the play is, in some ways, a commentary of how I felt my life in the American Theater went -- underappreciated, underpaid, and overshadowed by some less talented folks. Similarly, the play looks at some of those things about the United States I often feel but don't always say. Making the show about something silly like pro wrestling allowed be to say some pretty strong, controversial things.

4. Who are your favorite playwrights and how have they influenced your work?

Favorites ever: David Henry Hwang, John Guare, Danny Hoch, John Leguizamo, Sarah Jones, Lily Tomlin. Lots of solo performers in there. Love that kind of direct contact with audience. Hwang and Guare and Luis Valdez are all masters of breaking rules, doing whatever they want to tell the story -- aka getting off the couch and having magical stuff happen if need be. Today, I think Annie Baker, Lynn Nottage, Quiara Hudes, Rajiv Joseph are all amazing. Qui Nguyen and Vampire Cowboys -- my fellow fight scene writing playwright. It's a very big list.

  5. Do you have personal experience in wrestling that helped shape the plot?

Just being a massive nerd for the first 17 years of my life.

  6. What inspired you to write this play?

Nostalgia and anger, I think. Probably also some bourbon at some point.

  7. While writing, how did you envision live theatre audiences responding to the final powerbomb in the epilogue?

Great question. Hard to say, because we see the powerbomb at least one other time in the show before then, so they're not completely surprised. I think I want that moment to be a punch in the gut -- we've wanted this guy to speak up for one time in his life, and then he does, and he's immediately punished for it. And then I hope that the last line -- "why are they rooting for the bad guy?" -- can be hopeful to some extent. Even though he's back on the bottom, someone has heard his message, someone is rooting for him, and that's reason enough why he should have spoken up.

  8. How much research did you do during the writing process? What type of resources did you use?

I just watched a ton of wrestling. For most of my life. I do lots of research for most plays, but this one didn't require much.

  9. When did the idea that art is wrestling come to you and how?

Wrestling as art is something I've been aware of since I was maybe eight or so. If you watch a lot of it, you realize that these guys have to be working together to pull off the moves they do. And then you start to realize (if you think about it critically, which I don't think most people do) that they guy who looks like he's losing is the one who has to do most of the work. That was a powerful idea to me somehow in my late 20s.

  10. What kind of training have you received in playwriting? If any, how do you feel it prepared you to be a working playwright?

I've got an MFA from New York University's Department of Dramatic Writing. It was a huge help in terms of learning structure and tools -- I know how to tell a story now, and I know some ideas on how to jostle my brain lose if I get stuck. The thing that training can't really teach you is how to care about something deeply (and maybe sometimes kind of insanely). If you want to be a working playwright, a successful playwright, even just a satisfied playwright, you have to really fucking care about something (excuse my language), and you have to really want to investigate it, tear it apart, and not be afraid of what you might find or what you might say.

[theheavylifting]

I KISSED BEYONCE

[theheavylifting]

Goodman Theatre Announces Latino-Focused 2013 New Stages Festival, 12/7-22

Now in its 10th year, Goodman Theatre's 2013 New Stages festival features five FREE new plays-two fully staged workshop productions performed in repertory plus three staged readings-in the Owen Theatre, December 7 - 22. All five plays celebrate Latino playwrights: The Upstairs Concierge, a contemporary farce about celebrity and baseball by Pulitzer Prize finalist (for The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity) Kristoffer Diaz; and The Solid Sand Below, an examination of the intoxicating nature of war which Martin Zimmerman developed during his time as a member of the Goodman's Playwrights Unit, and which was selected for the 2013 National Playwrights Conference at The Eugene O'Neill Theater Center in Connecticut. The three staged readings, which complement the two workshop productions over the December 13 - 15

New Kristoffer Diaz play.

Goodman Theater, Chicago.

December 2013.

Contemporary Latino farce.

Many doors.

And it's free.

[theheavylifting]

These are the videos created for a local production of The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity. It was directed by the artistic director of The Wilbury Group, Josh Short. I was the projection designer as well as carpenter.

I love everything about every production of this show ever. These are amazing!

[theheavylifting]

This week I am joined via Skype by Kristoffer Diaz, playwright, as we discuss his free scenes project on his Tumblr...The Heavy Lifting.

New podcast with my buddy from IDS.

And there's a secret message about the next place to see some new work from me hiding at the end.

[theheavylifting]

I need to post this every once in a while because this is my favorite thing that ever happened repeatedly on television.

I would like for this to happen repeatedly in my life.

[theheavylifting]

Tasha Gordon-Solmon! California Raisins! Ricky Udell!  (List is in reverse order of performance professionalism.)

[theheavylifting]

I love the Jackass movies. This is a brilliant idea. I hope to create something that makes people this joyful/pained at the same time someday.

[theheavylifting]

More Gaspacho goodness from Ste Sesquin and Chad Deity's own Desmin Borges. You'll see this bar again.

[theheavylifting]

Shoes! Casey and Jeff! And #freescenes newcomer Carley Cornelius! Yes!

[theheavylifting]

New Gaspacho from the amazing Usman Ally of Chad Deity original cast fame. The show is stolen straight out from him, I think you'll agree.