Open Night Review

The Department of Theatre is serving up something different with its newly opened show Shorts! that runs Friday and Saturday and April 23-25 in Culp Theatre. Shorts! is a collection of 11 10-minute plays that are completely student directed, acted and produced.

This is a unique form of theatre because it offers a glimpse into its characters' lives and situations, meaning it has to begin with a bang and build quickly, or it will lose valuable time and the audience's attention. However, most of the actors and directors are equal to the challenge of the time and plot-length constraints and provide the audience with some delightful bites of entertainment.

The production starts off with a bang, beginning with Foul Territory, a well-directed and fun piece about the dangers of life and baseball. Although it has only two characters and is not the best written piece I have come across by any means, Eric Hampton and Caitlyn Taylor display boundless amounts of energy and a great connection in their portrayal of two friends dealing (or not dealing) with the obstacles life throws at them.

New York Actor is another high-energy production about a group of struggling actors who have a quiet, eventful night at a restaurant. Not only does this short feature fabulous costumes and witty dialogue precisely delivered by the principal actors, but the fast-paced humor that finally ends in a slapstick free-for-all is a welcome break from some of the plodding pieces preceding it.

Following New York Actor is That Midnight Rodeo, a beautifully understated story that is a showcase in even-handed directing by Kamilah Holtz. Rachel Propst and Josh Tumblin handle what easily could have been trite subject matter with realistic, subtle performances that transfix the audience and make their scene one of the best of the night.

When writing a short play, humor is definitely the way to go, since the flash-style of the performance needs to be fast paced and simple in order to succeed. And Shorts! certainly includes a fair amount of quality comedy pieces. Jasmine Richardson and Michelle Alexander together are a hoot in their hilarious-yet-poignant short Miss Kentucky; Hold For Three gives the audience a ride through the fantastical world of one girl's riotous imagination; and The Philadelphia, a manic study in how to deal, surely will have you rolling with its rapid-fire dialogue and preposterous events. Time Flies takes the idea of a short comedy to an entirely different level. This whimsical satire about the human condition and seizing the day simply buzzes with over-the-top antics and the funniest (and only) portrayal of mayfly-erotica I have ever seen. Everything - acting, directing, lighting, the set and costumes - is fabulous.

Oh to be on a dessert island... a desert dessert island.

If I were an existentialist creating my own code and rules for my life, they would be centered around the new rule I have made for my life today, which is this: I, on moral grounds, shall not split a restaurant dessert with anyone. I know this seems selfish, but I can seriously think of nothing more destructive to the enjoyment of the evening than the forced splitting of dessert and really believe that most people would benefit from this rule, not just me. At least, those dining with me would benefit from this rule.

In exemplum (purely hypothetical): Ross and I are treated to dinner by a guest, lets call him John F. Mango from Texas. We do not deserve this treat, and knowing that I am by no means entitled to it, I make a note to be outwardly thankful and make sure I show I am enjoying myself and my dinner. I am told to pick a restaurant. I choose Ichiban after some consultation. it is made very clear from the beginning of the dinner that I am planning to save room for dessert, as they have delicious banana tempura with ice cream (mmmm/slash fist-shaking at the sky at remembering the, um, hypothetical, deliciousness stolen from me). I note this aloud on several occasions throughout dinner. Ross does as well, as he has decided on a similar plan. We have also been told on the outset by Mr. Mango to go ahead and order whatever we want, get the 11 course meal if we want (we dont). So dinner goes well, I eat a delicious meal while saving plenty of room to comfortably eat dessert, and, finishing rather earlier than Mr. Mango who gets a large portion not intending to have dessert, sit and look forward to my favorite part, dessert.

The whole next bit is (hypothetically) a blur: the waitress comes. What do we want for dessert? Ross wants banana tempura ice cream (at my suggestion). I, too, will have the banana tempura ice cream. Okay. She turns to go. Wait, Mr. Mango, too, will have an order of banana tempura ice cream. Fine by me until...

WAITRESS: Are you sure? They're pretty big, you might want to think about two.

AMANDA: slow motion look of anguish in the direction of the overly helpful waitress

MR.MANGO: Oh, okay we'll have two then

exit waitress

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I dont know what the conversation was between the exit of the overly helpful waitress and the arrival of the dessert. My head was spinning trying to maintain a pleasant of blank facade while trying to maintain optimism inside. Maybe the desserts are bigger than the past. Maybe by some miracle a tiny Japanese waitress has a heartier dessert appetite than I and actually knows what a large dessert means. Molten Lava cake at chilis is a large dessert, easily sharable. But if I save room for dessert, I can take one of those down myself. Or a great wall of chocolate, which incidentally I could go for right now having experienced insufficient dessert. Hypothetically. So, naturally it comes and, 3 not being easily divisible by 2, one is set between Ross and I, who both planned on dessert, and one is set in front of Mr. Mango. Dessert is like the art of the meal. It is not for sustenance, it is simply to make life better and more full. So you eat it slowly. Or you should. If you scarf it, you are wasting a lot of empty calories. As most guys do, these two scarf. I go ahead and eat slowly so as not to ruin the whole thing, and Ross is conscientious and stops after eating his half of the bowl. I have that to be grateful for. However, having stopped and set down his spoon, he is invited by Mr. Mango to enjoy some of his bowl. By the time I have finished my bit, there is no banana left in the other bowl, which is obscenely far away from my spoon anyway. I can do nothing but watch part of my portion slowly disappear while wishing I'd pretended I didnt want dessert to get crappy sonic ice cream cake instead of having something wonderful gobbled by others. I was mad that I came up with the idea for dessert and then didnt get my due. I was hungry. Basically, I was disappointed and grumpy. And so, thinking there was no other way to avoid being filled with irrational hate (cause thats another rule, don't have irrational hate) in the future in such circumstances, I made a rule. No splitting dessert. Fact: It is better to have never desserted at all than to have desserted and lost.

T'ain't no good grammars in hell...or is there?

Even though he is the devil, his possessive nouns need to include apostrophes. I.e.: the devil's curly hair. Theological dissertation on the devil's immunity to grammar to follow.

Summer Job

So, I've been tentatively offered a job for the summer. It's a Jewish camp in Maryland (haha), and I'd start at the beginning of June, and work through July, and most of August. I'd be the "Assistant Director of Drama", which basically means I'm second in command of the whole Theatre shebang up there. It's really good money, and more importantly, it's a guaranteed Director credit for my resume. Unfortunately it'd mean I'd only be home for a week this summer. So, that's where I am now. I have contributed.

Recent Past

More recently...

Magna cum laude and job, job lookey
Don't skip class and don't play hookey.
They fired that teacher you said was kookey.
When I come to see you, I'll bring you a cookie
But not until I finish this bookie.
Stay away from that girl! There'll be no nookie.
Pluck those brows you look like a wookie.

Okay, so I got carried away with the rhyming thing. It happens.

Middle Ages

The middle years...

Raise your hand if you've been in a knife fight
Flying flags from mom's big ....
The night of the Stinky Cheese man
Ta-da and the warning phone calls
Gatlingburg with the Gilfilens
Texas Hold-Em
Pseudo-girlfriend stalker

Early Days

The early years...

Ninja turtles do not have penises.
Santa must not know the rules.
Wow! Fancy skin!
Chocolate volcanoes.
I ran in the church and I killed an old lady!
Non (you remember the hand motion)
Where are all the Barbaras?

In The Beginning

In 1986 a sleepy baby girl who refused to breath like a normal child was born starting us on a journey of half-baked ideas and poorly planned adventures. She was joined by a bouncing (literally) baby brother in 1988 which accelerated the ride and we've been hanging on for dear life ever since. The fracture occurred in the early 90's but we slapped on a band-aid and everyone seems none the worse for wear. Join us on our journey but keep your judgements to yourself. We have enough of our own, thank-you.