Friday Before My Last Groundlings Class

It's Friday December 4th, 2009. The days of the decade are numbered. If memory serves, this is in fact the last year of the decade. 2010 is like 1980. Or 1990, for that matter. Things started getting weird when we hit 2000 in terms of decade speak, but then again, 9/11 happened in 2001 -- and we had a lot more on our minds (didn't we? don't we?).

But more to the point: it is the night before my last Groundlings class. I've been taking level 1 with Tony Sepulveda. Yes, that's the same Sepulveda that is a major artery to the LA roadways. Sepulveda is also a good shortcut if you're trying to avoid the 405 at certain junctures. But as far as shortcuts and Tony are concerned, he'd say there aren't really good ones when you're up on stage. Don't ask questions. Start scenes with observations, confessions, suspicions, accusations, realizations...OSCAR it. Don't order someone else to do things. Don't go for base humor. Don't deny a set-ups (YES, AND!) Raise the stakes -- but don't anticipate. And don't emulate noises on stage...like the sound of turning on a faucet (shhhhh) or the sound of engine turning over while trying to start a car (vrrrrrvrrrrvrrrr), etc. I have certainly been guilty of the sound effect crutch to help me in situations. A little Kitty Landers habit I picked up in the company of children. Great for anecdotes. But when you're trying to have someone believe that what you're doing could actually be happening? It's so Santa.

What have I learned? Establish who and where and what's going on RIGHT AWAY! Don't ask questions. Make statements. Listen to whomever you're on stage with. Don't plan ahead of time. Trust that whatever physical actions you're doing will lead you to an idea that you can commit to (you're reaching out and pushing things in front of you and then all of a sudden you're actually working a switchboard in Nairobi connecting different heads of state). Like that. I didn't plan that one. I just thought of something random. And it would actually work if I committed to it.

Personally -- I tend to want to do characters. I feel comfortable with characters. I'll admit, I have a hard time believing that simple information and committing to a specific action is interesting. Is Good Enough. Spacework is challenging. Spacework is like lima beans. I wish it was like ice cream, but it's the math problem I just don't want to think about. So that's something I have to work on. Tasso, Kristen, and Dan kick ass at spacework. I believe them.

I over-talk. I love the sound of my own voice. I find myself wanting to look for MORE INTERESTING relationships. More interesting than Employee and Boss. Mother and Child. Husband and wife. Boyfriend and Girlfriend. Roommates. Lovers. But then, as I read those...I think...what else is there? Hmmm. Members of the same Band. Teacher and student. Robber and Robbie. Alien and abuctee. Ghost and Ghosthunter. But Tony would say these all fall within the categories he carefully laid out at the beginning of class. Man Vs. Man. Man vs. Nature. Man vs. Himself. Man Vs. God. Man vs. Supernatural. Man Vs. Society. Man Vs. Machine. Like the Greek Myths.

Tony is a great teacher. He is very honest in his criticisms and his praise. I feel as though he opened up my chest and took a look inside. Sometimes that tickles and sometimes it stings. Truth be told, there were many drives back to Venice from West Hollywood where class had left me swollen with a strange combination of disappointment and frustration. I'd revisit all the things I could have said or done. Ask myself why I didn't think of X and instead went for boring Y. Replay moments when I was more concerned about getting it right than just letting go. But there were also plenty of times that I was still high from laughing so hard I was crying. Tasso's cart. Nikki's "Aunt Cathy." Marshall's White Trash. Kristen's British Lady. Sasha's airborn orb of pizza dough. Andy's mafia speak. Rose is getting gang raped at a car wash. Again.

Oh Coffee Plaza. Our walks to 7-Eleven on the break. The broken air conditioner. The view of the palm trees out the window. The duvatene curtain on either side of the stage. Tony's i-phone. Kathryn, Carli and Emmanuelle are shrinky-dinks in reverse. The noises from the other room punctuate our play time. Can I help you with those chairs? Name game volleyball. Foreign film commentary. Police interrogation. Panel of Experts. Buckingham Palace and the Scourge of Syphilis. Restaurant scenes. Roommates. Richard is my little brother and he has an under the bed chest. Lloyd, Chris and I are adult film stars. Jennifer is Japanese. 14 physical ticks in one character - Go. Tasso -- go.

All the posters from previous Sunday shows that line the walls. Bionic Man Spin off. David Bowie. Frog and Toad. Me So Sunday with the picture of the katakana and some japanese guy in the middle of tokyo or shinsaibashi. There are more but those are the ones my eyes always go to...

Tony -- this is for you. You said "put that in your blog..." I don't remember what "that" is now, but this is now that. Like "black sheep" by Das FX: You can deal with this, or you can deal with that. You can deal with this, or you can deal with that. You can deal with this, or you can deal with that, you can deal with this, cuz this is kind of phat.