my big opening

the thoroughbred is restless and ready to speed out of the gate.

i think...

there is this odd tradition with actors where they have a mediocre final dress. i've done it. everyone does it and it seems so stupid and wrong and counterintuitive and yet... we do it.

since i am a skeptic and an atheist, i've gotten rid of those horrible superstitions like not saying "good luck" or "macbeth". i'll talk about auditions (yet there's still that nagging feeling that talking about them jinxes them and that's why i don't work as much as i'd like to... horrid...) and whistle in the theater. and yet, there is something deep inside which makes me suck the ass of a dying pig at final dress.

not to say that the cast sucked the ass of a dying pig last night. no. the show they did last night could be performed and garned great reaction and reviews it just wasn't at the level they can do.
i have a separate crush on each and every member of the cast for various things they do. They're so good and blah blah blah... insert proud director paragraph here "*".

We have some critics coming tonight. It's good. Tonight's show will be responsible for us running longer, moving to a diff't night, etc. because of the caliber of critics coming. I like that. Truly. This way, it's a bit binary (i think i'm using the word incorrectly); if it goes well tonight, we run longer, if it doesn't, we close at our scheduled time and all is well either way.

I'm just happy i made it this far.

A couple of nights ago I felt the "slash and burn" part of me boiling inside. It's that weird shit I learned from my mom that allows me to not finish something because I hurt everyone and walk away from the thing I love. It makes me want to rip people open, tell them everything that's wrong with them, walk out the door and never return. I used to do it a lot. Jessie's helped me to unlearn it because it is behavior that is most definitely learned. I think that if I ever direct another show, I will alert the production team to this weird part of me. Well... this *other* weird part of me.

So... I managed to not blow up and scream for no reason other than to regain control and attention. I managed to sit back and give the show back to them... i mean, fuck, it's their show. The happier they are, the better it is, and the better I look. Everyone wins!

John Mitchell, watergate conspirator and producer of Bukowsical said some really nice things to me. Mainly: when producing, he always looks to the director to learn two things to do and two things not to do the next time he gets involved in something. John said that he was bummed because he didn't find the two things not to do.

Of course he could be lying because I am also having a bit of a crisis in confidence about my ability to actually direct... so he could have been "producing" and taking care of the madness inside of me.... but, i think I'll just go ahead and believe what he says. It's easier that way.

So... opening night. We will get the heavy critic lifting out of the way and then have fun. I have some changes I want to make for next week and I have to remember to make sure everyone stays a bit more upstage than they have been. The lighting plot we've inherited from Claire Z. (heard it's great... must go!) is stylized. It is completely opposite of what we need for a musical. A bit problematic.

They also have to be loud. They had the band (gary & bassist/drummer) for the first time and as inspiring and cool as that is to sing with, it is also necessary for them to belt. belt like an abusive dad, people.

That's that.

The house... filled with boxes. Overwhelming. I want chris and the crew back to unpack and unload everything. I think that means I just want the excitement of being unfinished becauase having something finished is, for me, a letdown.

Perhaps that's why I never finish anything.

man.

how's that navel, dean?

wankity wank wank!