Archive for December, 2009

31st December
2009
written by Casarino

or,

Now THAT’S how you end a year.

God bless Google Alert. Usually it notifies me of an intertubes post from, say, 2006, but today I got a good ‘un:

IndyWeek’s Picks for Best Live Theater of 2009

My comments: I am equally honored and humbled. Honored, because North Carolina’s Indyweek is an excellent publication that respects the arts (eight critics for theater alone! How much space does YOUR local paper give the arts?) and takes criticism seriously – no free passes. And humbled, because “Green Eggs & Mamet” was part of a 10-show festival that was one of the best I’ve seen. It included Mark Harvey Levine’s LA 8 AM, Jennifer Maisel’s “Fissshhh,” and Stephanie Alison Walker’s “Melt” – three plays (among many others) that blew me away with their creativity and passion.

If I’m ever quoted for anything theatery, I hope it’s this: Playwrights don’t write plays. We write scripts. A play is the collective effort of many people – actors, directors, tech people, even the audience. And each of them is equally vital to the production. Maybe the audience is the most vital – if a play is performed in an empty theater, did it make a sound?

So thank you to everyone who created theater in 2009 – all of my comrades in playwriting and everyone who acts, directs, works backstage, ushers, bartends, reviews, and (maybe most importantly) supports theater by going to see shows.

Sentimental? Maybe. It’s New Year’s Eve. Gimme a break.

29th December
2009
written by Casarino

or,

How to write a musical for fun and profit

Check THIS shit out. I’ll wait.

It could be fantastic. Seriously, it could. One of the great things about playwriting is that, in theory, anyone can do it. We’ve all seen plays, we’ve all had conversations, and to quote Captain Stillman, the only way to learn is to do it. And look who we have here: Stephen King, storyteller extraordinaire. John Mellencamp, who…ah…well, “Uh Huh” was a great album. And a bevy of talented and semi-hip singers. Should at least succeed as a great curiosity, right?

Of course, the playwright/composer in me is feeling a sensation of rueful laughter, dread, and out-and-out contempt (imagine Whatever Happened to Baby Jane-era Bette Davis chuckling over her fourth Rob Roy – that’s the feeling) that these non-theater punks think they can just waltz into my medium and cash in. After all, just because anyone can write a play doesn’t mean they should – playwriting is littered with failure, with unseen and unheard plays, with wonderful pieces of work that find themselves in a corner three pages from the ending with no way out. It’s taken years of mistakes for most of us to begin to understand the mysteries of the stage, to learn how to adapt story structure, to write dialogue that make actors look good, to use the very limitations of the stage to create worlds far larger than one can imagine – and the best of us STILL struggle to turn in a decent script.

Besides, look how many non-theater pirates have fallen on their rich little faces while trying to craft a play. Look at Tim Robbins – his satire Embedded is, by most accounts, a cartoonish bore, which came as happy news after I saw his obnoxious comments about theater on The Daily Show. And let’s not forget how Paul Simon turned himself into a theatrical cautionary tale with The Capeman. And while hiring Bono to write the music for a musical about Spider-Man SOUNDS like a great idea (if you’re on peyote, that is), early reports and delayed openings hint that epic disaster might be in the cards for Julie and the gang (the jury’s out, of course, but they’re salivating). It’s enough to make one treat themselves another Scotch. (Ah, Mr. Morangie…you beat out Miller, Close, and garry/ross as my favorite Glen.).

But still and all, I wish King & Kompany well. I’m not one of those who laments the brand-naming of Broadway – honestly, it would have died completely without Disney, so if Mel Brooks and big green ogres keep people buying tickets, so be it. Besides, sometimes our beloved boards DO need a good shaking up – look at Passing Strange and, before that, Hedwig and the Angry Inch – two shows that genuinely shook our idea of how to tell a story through music. Just because many of us find Stew’s contempt of musicals obnoxious doesn’t mean the man’s not a genius.

Still, though, I reserve my right to schadenfreude if Stephen and John discover that proficiency in one or two artistic mediums doesn’t necessarily translate to the stage. Besides, if it does fail, you know Uncle Steve will write a fantastic essay about it.

28th December
2009
written by Casarino

or,

How to avoid playwriting by spewing a few meaningless opinions

Has it always been this way, and I’m just now figuring it out? Or is this a 2009 thing? When did pop/rock become dominated by women? Why is it men are stuck with heavy but banal dirges on finding second chances and being all hurt n’ stuff while women get to explore every avenue of music and emotion?

Beats me. But nearly every bit of pop that made an impact (on me, anyway) was delivered by women this year. Even the reliable rockers like the Foo Fighters and hip hop provocateurs like Kanye forgot to be interesting (on record, anyway). You have to head into indietown to find men who aren’t stuck in “everything I know, I learned from Nickelback” territory.

Fortunately, the ladies – and a few of the indie fellows – came through this year. Below are my choices for the good stuff – and some of the bad. Enjoy, friends!

Oh, and as always, these opinions are solely those of the author. Where do I get the nerve?

THE BEST POP SINGLES OF 2009

“I Do Not Hook Up,” Kelly Clarkson. Oh-h! No-o! Kelly’s defiant roar of pride is pop at its most pure, most joyful, most fun – it’s everything disposable music SHOULD be, and more. Heck, the only reason we aren’t unanimously crowning it “The Pop Single of 2009” is because “My Life Would Suck Without You” is so damn good too.

“Sober,” Pink. I know it was released in 2008, so it’s a bit of a cheat, but most of us found it after January, so it counts. Good thing, too…Pink’s finest hour is perhaps the best song of any year. Some of her rock tracks suffer a bit from quick-paced formula (short verse, loud catchy chorus, repeat), but “Sober” is so strangely complex, emotional, and lyrically & musically risky that it’s an instant classic. You hear it, and you want to hear it again. And geez, how about that video?

“Zero,” Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Listening to “Zero” – to all of It’s Blitz!, actually – takes you (well, me, since I’m old) back to the glory days of New Wave, back when indie music felt new and pure and not so damned self-conscious and ironic. “Zero” is a sincere delight – plus, thanks to Karen O’s very adult and sexy voice, it’s a great transcendent rocker.

“Single Ladies,” Beyonce. Overplayed? Sure. But not only is “Single Ladies” a magnificently punchy, genre-defying slice of attitude, it has a genuinely odd structure that keeps you guessing, even on the 300th listen. Listen to those changes under “if you like it/then you should’ve put a ring on it”…not exactly cookie-cutter chords, are they? Besides, nobody knows the power of a well-timed “oh-oh-oh” like our own Miss Fierce.

“LoveGame,” Lady Gaga. So what was YOUR favorite Lady Gaga song of the year? Many swear by the odd mashup of “Bad Romance,” some still love the sneaky “Poker Face,” still others prefer “Just Dance” or “Paparazzi.” All fine choices, but with its bold dance-all-night synth lick, sexy-sweet come-ons, and Grace Jones-evoking chorus, “LoveGame” is my fave Gaga jam to date. Still, what’s truly amazing is that we all have a pet song by Ms. Germanotta – love her or hate her, you still love her.

“Day ‘n Night,” Kid Cudi. Try to classify this one – stoner hip-hop folk, maybe? Kid Cudi takes us on a lyrically adventurous trip into his mind, letting the simple, hypnotic melody and haunting synth licks guide us into pop bliss. Even as it keeps a foot firmly in iTunes-happy territory, it could be the most original song of the year.

“Sometime Around Midnight,” Airborne Toxic Event. I know…they’re named “Airborne Toxic Event.” They wear wool caps and skinny jeans, too (I assume, anyway). But here’s a song that takes the offbeat observational skills of Okkervil River and infuses it with the kind of sincere emotion you don’t expect to hear from indie folks…and then the music just builds and builds until it surrounds your soul. Plus…it rocks. If there’s a post-hipsterdom movement in 2010, this song will kick it off.

“People Got a Lotta Nerve,” Neko Case. It sounds a bit like a throwaway at first…jangly guitars, subtle hook, an almost effortless vocal. But then you catch those lyrics and sneaky, sexy chorus, and you hear that really odd and disturbing second verse, and you realize Ms. Case knew what she was doing all along…and then, just as it’s soaring into pop bliss, it all ends. But oh, while it lasted…

“Battlefield,” Jordin Sparks. Every American Idol finalist record is loaded with pop potential – hooks galore, repetitive choruses, a chance for the singer to hit a money note or two. Unfortunately, they almost always sound like what they are – pop ditties composed by committee, stripped of idiosyncrasies and personality. “Battlefield” could have been one of those, but Ms. Sparks gives it just enough emotion to let it truly soar and become something sublime. It’ll get stuck in your head for days, but you won’t be sorry.

“Heavy Cross,” Gossip. I’m a big fan of Beth Ditto, but I was a little disappointed when I first heard the disco-singed “Heavy Cross.” I thought it too dense, too processed, too far removed from the awesomely spare, pokey dance punk of Standing in the Way of Control. But the more I listened, the more I loved – sure it’s disco, but it’s damned good disco, sexy, rocking and satisfying. And the Divine Ms. Ditto refuses to get lost in the mix – she delivers a powerful vocal that gives the whole enterprise a healthy dose of sexy soul.

“The Rake’s Song,” The Decemberists. You have to go all the way back to the Violent Femmes’ “Country Death Song” to find another awesomely catchy song about, er, murdering your own children. Of course, Gordon at least had the courtesy to feel bad about what he did…not Colin, who sounds relatively pleased. Creepy as hell…and really fun. Which just makes it more creepy. And fun.

“Waking Up in Vegas,” Katy Perry. Katy’s got a fantastic look, and she got off to a slyly provocative start with the strictly PG “I Kissed a Girl,” but with her limited range and by-the-numbers delivery, she’s going to have to count on great material until she finds her own voice (if she ever does). Fortunately, “Waking Up in Vegas” has got a killer chorus, a great beat, and a sense of humor – everything a disposable summer pop song needs to cross the line from good to great.

“1901,” Phoenix. Now that radio is in such a weird place and MTV and VH1 barely show videos, I suppose there’s a case to be made for licensing as a means for launching little-known acts. But what a freakin’ shame that Phoenix’s towering bit of electronica will forever be associated with car commercials.

Honorable Mentions:

“Honey West,” Betty. I don’t think it was ever a single, but man, it should be…Betty’s paean to a forgotten 60’s TV detective is a delightful rocker.

“What Are You Like,” Indigo Girls. Subtle production and a great groove make this one nearly irresistible – unless you’re a diehard Indigo Girls fan, in which case you’ve essentially heard it before. Still, it’s a good ‘un.

“Me With You,” Brian Turner. A great songwriter turns in one of his very best. When BT drops his CD, get in line for a copy – it’s gonna be awesome! In the meantime, go to Brian’s ReverbNation Page and give it a listen.

THE WORST POP SINGLES OF 2009

“No Surprise,” Daughtry. Look, I don’t object to the sentiment, or even the guy’s voice. No, my problem is that every note, every chord, every drumbeat in this humorless dirge is more predictable than the last. The absolute nadir of overproduced, oversung, oh-so-earnest white-boy “power chord” pap.

“Second Chance,” Shinedown. I stand corrected.

“Gives You Hell,” All-American Rejects. Damn you, Green Day – you see what you did? You inspired guys like the All-American Rejects, who think they’re being “edgy” with their braggy, twee little kiss-off song, in which they crow about sleeping all day while their ex has to, like, have a real job. Obviously, this little bastard struck a chord, since the song was a smash. But “obnoxious” and “slickly produced pop” are a bad combination, and “Gives You Hell” is the worst of both worlds.

“We Made You,” Eminem. Eminem’s “comedy” songs used to have some zip. But more and more they belong on the Dr. Demento show. He’s still got a raw talent, but this one’s dumb and irritating.

“I Gotta Feeling,” Black-Eyed Peas. My God, the Peas have grown lazy. If their habit of repeating a single word to fill in the gaps in poorly-metered lyrics isn’t bad enough, now they’re not even bothering to rhyme, write melodies, or provide an interesting beat. Sure, it’s catchy, but so is a pre-programmed drum n’ bass track on an old Casio keyboard.

“Use Somebody,” Kings of Leon. These guys came loaded with hype as the next big rock band, and hell, maybe they are. Truth be told, the only bad part of “Use Somebody” is the chorus, where the title is repeated in a choked whine over and over until the song becomes nothing but an aggravating little earworm.

“3,” Britney Spears. Shouldn’t a song espousing the manage-a-trois be, y’know…sexy? Not this time. Britney sounds as detached as ever, and the beats are tired and square. Imagine what Lady Gaga woulda done with this one and you can see the trouble Britney might be in.

“Fireflies,” Owl City. It’s okay to admire Ben Gibbard. It’s okay to ape his voice and inflection. It’s even okay to give your track the exact same cheap-synth sound you might find on any Postal Service song – we all gotta start somewhere. But it’s NOT okay to give your song the most maddeningly cloying lyrics in recent history. Seriously…the hilariously vague ”everything is never as it seems” is the best line on the track. Even Spandau Ballet would have rejected “Why do I tire of counting sheep/when I’m too tired to fall asleep.” (Maybe.) By the time 10,000 lightning bugs are holding a sock hop, you’ll want to heave 10,000 meals.

Dishonorable Mentions:

“Good Girls Go Bad,” Cobra Starship. I get that the, er, Cobra Starship (ugh) are going for humor with their contribution to junior-high dance playlists across the country. We should encourage that, as humor is too rare a thing in pop music. But still…what an inane little song. Too silly to be truly offensive, but too stupid to be anything but annoying.

“1 2 3 4,” Plain White T’s. I don’t think it’s horrible, exactly, and I give them all the credit in the world for miraculously avoiding one-hit-wonderdom. But Lord do I hate that chorus. It’s the equivalent of setting a 4th-grade love note to music.

COULD GO EITHER WAY…

“Party in the U.S.A.,” Miley Cyrus. You either love it or hate it. The haters find it pandering (absolutely) and overproduced (certainly). The lovers are too busy moving our hips like yeah.

“If You Seek Amy,” Britney Spears. I love the chorus, even though it’s based on an old joke. I love the throwback “oh baby baby’s” in the verses. But something so “outrageous” shouldn’t be so forgettable. I dunno…either it’s too dumb, or not dumb enough.

“Boom Boom Pow,” Black Eyed Peas. The epitome of “It’s got a good beat and you can dance to it.” And it’s so big and infectious that yes, dammit, you even want to dance to it. But oh, the brain-dead lyrics…so stupid, off-putting, and unnecessary that they almost kill the fun.

“She Wolf,” Shakira. An infectious groove, clever lyrics, and a nifty chorus are compromised (for me, at least) by Shakira’s less-than-inspired delivery, making what should be a pop masterpiece into something mostly forgettable.

“21 Guns,” Green Day. Green Day were always a commercial-minded pop band in punk-poseur costumes – but there’s nothing wrong with that, as long as the music’s good, which it usually is. “21 Guns” basically picks up where “Wake Me Up When September Ends,” but it’s not quite soaring enough to make up for its soft-pedaled repetition and “perfect” (thanks to studio manipulating) vocals. Still, I catch myself singing it an awful lot.

Anything by Taylor Swift. She’s got a knack, that’s for sure, and she’ll be around a long time, but her songs tend to get away from her. “Love Song” is catchy but cloying and lyrically ragged (at best…has she READ the stuff she’s referencing!?), “Fifteen” walks the line between sympathetic and condescending, and not even her pure n’ innocent voice can keep “You Belong With Me” from sounding a bit creepy. Give her a few years and she may just be onto something.

Well there you go, my friends – keep on rockin’ in the new year!

Love & kisses,
Matt

28th December
2009
written by Casarino

or,

Episode 4: A New Hope.

It’s been, oh, a good 30 years or so since my last post. I’m hoping to remedy that as our millennium reaches 10…it turns out I have a lot to say, and when I don’t say it, I do things like buy Scotch and lose hair.

Playwriting has been quite the bugaboo for me lately. I wrote a few plays in 2009, including one hour-long kids’ musical and a few that were produced off-off-Broadway. But on the whole, I’ve become a cliche – the playwright who avoids playwriting. At times, I’ve avoided writing altogether. I’m not sure why, but I think insecurity and a touch of self-flagellation have something to do with it. This isn’t rare – no matter how many productions my plays get, no matter how much genuine success I might achieve, every time I sit down to write I will always have a nagging voice that says “all your past success means exactly nothing right now.”

The voice isn’t wrong, of course…success doesn’t make anyone good at what they do. But experience, practice, the genuine desire to learn…yep, there’s the rub. But the voice doesn’t want that. It wants passivity, surrender. It wants me to choose anything over active writing – Facebook, the Food Network, Wii Sports Resort, Smithwicks (all worthy opponents, of course).

But I’m getting a little tired of the voice. It’s time to create – plays, music, essays, thoughts, feelings, anything, really. I’ll also update this site in general, restoring my old posts, adding photos, hyping new productions. Hopefully, this will become an addiction that will take the place of some that cause much more damage in my life.

Thank you, my faithful readers. You are welcome to comment at will, but I must warn you that I get loads of fatty spiced ham in my comment sections, so it may not get posted right away. In the meantime, feel free to send me an email at matt (at) mattcasarino (dot) com.