Third Time in Louisville

This is the third time I visited Louisville, Kentucky for the Humana Festival of New American Plays, and it’s the best one yet. Almost all of the plays are of high quality—I’ll be writing about them on the Back Stage website—and I reconnected with theatre professionals I’ve met before and made the acquaintance of new ones. Since I have been to the city twice before, I didn’t feel compelled to rush around and see everything. I did let my curiosity get the better of me and went out of my way once or twice. On the first night, guests were given a welcome reception at the home of one of the trustees. On the bus to the party, we went through Bardstown Road, one of those trendy little neighborhoods all cities seem to have. You know, the kind that have cute little shops selling used books and CDs and nowadays DVDs, etc. The first year I was here, I foolishly walked all the way from the downtown area to Bardstown which had to be at least five miles. (It looked much closer on the map.) Anyway, this time the bus is driving down Bardstown Road, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the Incredible Hulk and Wolverine adorning a storefront, with the sign outside reading “COMIC BOOKS ARE A GOOD SOURCE OF FIBER! HONEST!”

Immediately, I think I’ve got to come back here. I somehow missed this comic book store the last time I was here. In fact, Louisville did not rank high on the comic-book index (outside of NYC, I’d give Chicago and Philly high marks). Anyhoo, the only time I had to take the cab ride to the Bardstown area was the next morning—Friday. The rest of the time was eaten up with going to Humana plays. So I find a cab the next morning and located the store I had seen the night before. It was called Roll of the Die—since it also sold gaming stuff. Once again, cool title, so-so merchandise. Like too many comic places these days, they only had Bronze Age books and later. And that was overpriced. They did have a replica of the captain’s chair from Star Trek. I should have sat in it and asked for a picture—and here’s the reason for that:

In Roll of the Die, there were flyers advertising the Louisville Science Center’s hosting of the traveling Star Trek Exhibition, and it was just a few blocks from the theatre. How could I resist? (There was another place that sold comics in the area of Roll of the Die, but it was just too far away to walk and get back to the festival in time for my next curtain.)

The next available opening was Sat. after 6. Fortunately, the center was open till 9. So I went hoping to take some photos, but it turns out that was not allowed—copyrights of something. You could get your picture taken on the authentic captain’s chair and have it Photoshopped onto a replica of the bridge and also have yourself Photoshopped on the transporter platform, but they wanted $21 for a DVD of the photos and the same price for prints. It would have been fun to dress up this blog with the photo. But it ain’t worth a double sawbuck. So for the tens of you reading this, just look at my Facebook photo and imagine me sitting where William Shatner’s ass was. There were original props, costumes, histories of the Romulans, Vulcans, Klingons, etc., even a timeline for the entire history of the Star Trek future. But it was out of order! It went from left to right, going from the 24th century back to present, but the new Star Trek movie (2010) which take places right after the 20th century was at the beginning and should have been near the end. It was sorta fun and I’m glad I went. It reminded me of all the sci-fi conventions I used to go which were different from the comic conventions I go to now. I went to the sci-fi shows to meet the actors from Star Trek, Doctor Who, Blake’s Seven, etc. Now I just go for the comic books. If there are celebs at the current conventions, you are charged extra just for an autograph or taking their picture.

Then I returned to the theatre where they presented the Steinberg Award for the best new American play presented outside of NYC in the past year. The award is presented by the American Theatre Critics Association and I was on the committee of critics across the country to choose the winner and the two runners-up which receive each a citation. We read about 30 scripts and exchanged our views on them via email. The president of ATCA, Chris Rawson from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, introduced us from the audience, so that was gratifying. One of the winning playwrights, David Bar Katz, wrote a play about the creation of Superman called The History of Invulnerability, and we talked about comic books and my Jack Kirby collection. I also met people from Dayton, Ohio (a reporter who told me her son makes a living entering video contests on the Internet which he always wins—which is worth repeating), and Washington, DC (the theatre dept. head from the NEA), several playwrights, actors (Small World Dept.: it turns out one knew my college acting teacher), and directors. It’s always exciting to go to Humana because the audiences are all theatre people and you feel like you’re part of a big national community.

Crazy Monday

Monday was kind of a crazy day. I arrived at the Regency Hotel to interview Colin Firth and Helena Bonham Carter in connection with their new film The King's Speech. To my surprise, the whole block was cordoned off with a police barricade and there was an X-ray machine and a metal detector in front of the entrance. I had been to the Regency a few times in the past to see cabaret shows at Michael Feinstein's club, but there was never a security check, not even for Mitzi Gaynor. So to get in the building I had to give the police my bag for the X-ray machine and walk through the metal detector just like at the airport. I later heard the reason for the heavy duty security was Benjamin Netanyahu, the prime minister of Israel, was staying at the hotel.

The interview went well. I was given about 20 minutes with the very tall Mr. Firth and ten minutes with Miss Bonham Carter who I think had a cold. She sat curled up on the sofa of her hotel suite wearing clunky glasses and the same jewelry she had on in The Hollywood Reporter cover shoot, clutching a stuffed animal and sipping tea her publicist had brought her. She graciously asked if I wanted anything, but I figured I would be in and out of there so fast, I wouldn't have time for more than a sip of anything. Geoffrey Rush was supposed to be on the junket with his co-stars, but he was still filming Pirates of the Caribbean part 37 which went overschedule.

The whole thing took about 30 minutes. Then back to the office. That night I had the weirdest dream. I dreamt I was at the Actors Theatre of Louisville's Humana Festival, but I was locked out of my hotel room and no one had a schedule of the plays. I wandered through the theatre trying to figure out which plays were performing when and what I had reservations for, but no one knew. Finally, I found my way to the first play which starred Kathy Griffin and Derek Jacobi. What do you think that means? Don't answer that, except with comments--I never get any. Please, leave your interpretations of the dream.

Random TV Encounters--Porn Again

Earlier this year when I was staying at the Galt Hotel in Louisville during the Humana Festival of New Plays, I was relaxing in my room in between shows. I flipped through the channels which I love to do when I'm in cities I've never been--you get to see all the local news and how low-rent it usually is. I landed on MTV and the program was a reality thing called I'm Addicted to Porn. It was part of a whole series of I'm Addicted to.... They profiled a series of real people whose lives were seriously affected by their involvement with pornography. There was a guy whose wife left him because he couldn't stop watching it on his computer. They went to therapy. The usual story.

But the most interesting segment involved this young porn star. She was in Vegas for a porn convention and she was nominated for the industry equivalent of the Oscar for most promising newcomer or something. The awards were to be presented at the climax--pardon the pun--of the convention. She was shown surrounded by male fans on the convention floor, all clammering for her picture and autograph. She later said to the camera, "Wow, I feel really great, like I'm worth something." Then she received a visit from this group called the Pink Cross whose mission is to get people out of porn. The rescue workers were three women, looked in their 40s, all of whom were very attractive, but you could tell they'd had work done and when they were younger were probably stunning. Each wore an armband with a pink cross. Our girl listened to their spiel and wasn't buying it. They said "You're so smart and pretty, you don't need this. You are worth so much more than this." She thanked them and they left saying "Well, if you ever change your mind, give us a call." The actress turned to camera and said she was happy in her work.

Later just before the awards, she confessed that she wanted to win badly because maybe then her parents wouldn't be ashamed of her. One limo ride later, she loses the big award. Back in her suite with champagne, money, and a life of sex and adoration by horny pathetic guys, she's in tears.

Earlier in the week, I'd seen a play called Slasher about a young girl who gets cast in a sleazy horror film and she's in control and not exploited because she set the terms of the contract. There were eerie echoes of the play in this reality TV show.