How
terribly dramatic . . . I'm actually writing this one on the steps outside the
theater on Sunset Boulevard where Rock and Roll Heaven officially opens
tomorrow night. We did two full shows today; a complete run-through in the
afternoon was followed by a dinner break and then our final dress rehearsal in
front of invited guests.
So
that's all done, finished. There were a few scary technical problems but,
overall, it's pretty astonishing how well the show has pulled together during
our four weeks of rehearsals.
Oh,
yes. Those four frantic weeks have been tainted by moments so hellish that I
might hesitate before wishing their like upon George Bush.
As
I said, I might. Like if dogs flew. Or controlled our country. Oops, scratch
that. This is really getting weird.
So
here I am, physically hijacked into Hollywood where, beginning tomorrow, I'll
only have to be present on Fridays, Saturdays, and half of Sundays.
For
the next ten weeks.
I
feel as if I know Hollywood now, and I can say without hesitation that
Hollywood is certainly no San Diego.
There's
no Winston's here, no Jesse-San, no Claire de Lune or Lestat's, and (amazingly)
no San Diego Zoo.
The
Hollywood 'Zoo' is a 24-hour attraction, a unique collection of species that
are distributed along a mile of star-studded pavement just a stone's throw away
from our theater, running parallel to this legendary Sunset Boulevard. And
Sunset, it seems, valiantly serves as a sort of training camp for the Main
Stage to the north.
A
fellow cast member was in something approaching ecstasy after having run into
the celebrated Angelina Jolie the other night along the Zoo and was rather
perturbed that I didn't exude the
customary signs of envy as she breathlessly told the story. I suppose I might
have been more enthusiastic if Ms. Jolie's extra-showbiz pursuits involved
adopting crack babies or dumpster throwaways from some nearby neighborhoods
rather than the vetted, protogenic overstock of some exotic-sounding,
publicity-friendly foreign land.
When
it (whatever 'it' is) comes down to it, my sole interest in the actress spawned
by Jon Voigt is entirely clinical and concerns those 'bee-stung' lips and some
equation about the likelihood of cuffs matching collars or something. But
certainly not a priority at this point.
Rock
and Roll Heaven has been greatly (and superbly) revised from the version I was
involved with five years ago.
To
me, the saddest deletion is the swell (or boss?) moment when my character, John
Lennon, cautions the audience about the forthcoming controversial nude scene,
whereupon Sam Kinison escorts the raven-haired skeleton of Karen Carpenter onto
the stage. It was a pointed, biting warning of the power and inherent
devastation of eating disorders, a scene I'm convinced must have saved
thousands of lives in the early part of the post-nineties (let's come to common
ground, people. As distasteful as it may be: how about 'the Aughts' once and
for all, so we can get on with things?)
But
little, really, has been lost. The current version contains an additional
sequence that is, without doubt, equally profound.
Judy
Garland, who was portrayed in the earliest version as a rather sad, cuddly, and
dreamy fawn, is now all that as well as a big-time manic depressive, with
balls.
Specifically,
John Lennon's, which, in an excruciating scene, she 'squeezes' with increasing
gusto until he gives consent for her to insert her own vast selection of standards
into the set list of the upcoming rock celebration in Heaven.
The
lovely actress playing Judy, Alex Spencer, brings to light the undeniable power
of modern womanhood in a performance as real as it is inspiring, and I find
myself each day more eager to perform that scene with her - to be so literally
touched once more, taken in her grip, and led that much closer to the summit of
human contact. It is a gripping scene and I'm sure Alex will have no trouble
sensing my own enthusiasm, night after night.
And,
as a performer, it's comforting to know how truly touched I can feel by what is
essentially scripted action. Just another of the glories of live theater.
Rock and Roll Heaven, the
musical comedy directed by Jason Mershon, plays Friday and Saturday nights and
Sunday matinees at Theatre 68, 5419 Sunset Boulevard, Hollywood. Reservations:
www.plays.411.com/rockandrollheaven or call 323/660-7774 to see the Hose sing
and dance, even get jiggy wid condoms!