The Bottomless Well
Posted by James Vincent Meredith on 3/14/2008
The show is now running. But not on rails–yet–and really, it never should, if we’re doing it right. We opened on Sunday night, and just got back into it all on Tuesday. A very challenging part of a run. Sure there’s the part later in the run where you’ve done 60 shows and you’re trying to find ways to keep it fresh and new and motivated and focused.
And there’s the part at the beginning, when you do the final dress and then the first preview or two. At that point, you’ve got other questions. Do I have enough time to get back into this three piece suit between scene six and seven? How soon can I get rid of this hat when I get onstage? (Eric will kill me if I wear this thing through the whole scene.) Should I even eat before the show? I eat a whole Lean Cuisine Salisbury Steak dinner on stage, plus two bowls of soup during the argument with Pee-Wee. The salisbury steak is actually pretty good, but they changed the soup, and now I don’t like it–gotta ask Lauren, the assistant stage manager, if they can change it back for me. How do I make that line work that Eric added? Why can’t my hair lay down like Michael and Curtis and Calvin’s? I need to add more hair goop. Why are Ora and K. Todd looking at me like that–damn I dropped that line again, that’s why…
So there are questions and challenges that you go through at the beginning. But there are challenges right now too, right after opening. The director has given the show to the cast and crew and now it’s on us, so to speak. I want to continue to deepen areas that Eric wanted to see more from. I want to try to stretch the skin of this character, who has a seemingly bottomless well of talent, in addition to a bottomless well of arrogance and confidence. But also at heart a bitter sense of abandonment, a fear of becoming just another swing sax player like all the rest. And on top of all that, the thing he swore he’d never do happens: he falls for a woman who happens to be white, who happens to be the girlfriend of a man tied to organized crime. He’d been imprisoned for 6 months already for just talking with a woman that looked white. Not to mention that he’d be in trouble with a certain local gangster, and probably that gangster’s whole syndicate. Add to that the delicate situation regarding his ex, who happens to be the arranger in his band. Sticky. He knows the dangers here.
What inside of this man makes him think that this could work? The hubris of someone who has no peer on earth in their chosen profession would probably be such that– in their mind “if anyone can do it, I can.”
But I have to think that he has such a strong emotional connection to this woman, that, in spite of his confrontational, defensive, and mercurial sides that come out when he’s around her, being without her is simply not an option. There’s a saying that you can’t control who you love but you can control what you do about that love. Oriole can’t think in those terms. Eric said that when Oriole and Eunice are together, the passion is so strong and electric, that there’s no time to think when the wrong word or phrase comes out. If you had time to think about things that hurt, you wouldn’t say them. I would say that there’s also no time for Oriole to ruminate on why they shouldn’t be together, on why this is a bad idea. He tells her his doubts, sure, but that doesn’t mean he has any power over stopping this train. Oriole’s feelings for Eunice have to be as all consuming as his feelings for his music. And I think that’s why he loses and gains all when it comes to her. He breathes her love in, and exhales that love into his horn. And comes up with a sound that is pure…I need to have that be present on stage. This intense passion for these two loves. You have to believe in these two–in their fire–for the story to leap. So that’s the challenge–not that it’s difficult–Anne makes it very easy for me to fall in love with Eunice every night.
But the challenge for me is to illuminate my intense love for music and Eunice, and how by the end of the play, I simply can’t have one without the other.
March 16th, 2008 at 3:36 am
Your blog made me think that the music in this play can be seen as more than a theme or a conduit for emotions - it is almost a character in itself. The respect and reverence Oriole feels for this character surpasses what he feels for all others. He already had music before Eunice, but he couldn’t have had Eunice without music.
Oriole and Eunice are undeniably drawn to each other (and the characters are electrifying on stage), but I don’t know that he “loves” her. If it’s (to quote Joni Mitchell) the “moons and Junes and ferris wheels, that dizzy dancing way you feel” kind of love, then perhaps. But a deep, lasting love between these two characters is inherently complex as they are both so deeply wounded.
What makes him think it could work? I think he knows it likely won’t. His own words indicate this…plus he has life experience, a support network, intelligence, and talent to direct him. Why would he want to self-destruct given all this? Hubris –in Oriole’s case, encouraged by a healthy dose of narcissism and an overblown ego–leading to downfall is a pattern that plays out over and over again (this week’s media example of #9, who helped create the very system that implicated him, is also someone who must have wanted to get caught, at least inadvertently). The underlying reasons - though often well-hidden - are usually there.
For you, Mr. Simonson, and the entire cast - thank you for making us think about these issues (and many more) with the harmony and discord you bring to the stage every night.