Crazytown

MINDY KALING IS BAD BITCH

Why Mindy Kaling is a wonderful role model and everyone should want to be like her when they grow up.
By Annissa Omran (Writer/College Student)

This is the second installment in the "Bad Bitch" series I started in March with an ode to the wonderful Angela Lansbury. This series puts the spotlight on women with great talent you might have forgotten about or overlooked. 

(This woman is my spirit animal ^[source])

If you, like me, are a fan of the show The Mindy Project, you might be wondering how Mindy Kaling meets the "forgotten or overlooked" criteria. On the show she's plays a sassy partner in a gynecological practice dealing with the highs and lows of love and life in New York city. And while her character might be navigating daily ups and downs, you as the viewer will always be left sideways. On the couch. Laughing hysterically while concerned friends and family members in other rooms yell at you to remember to breathe.

Ok, that might just be my personal experience.

But even so, The Mindy Project is some seriously underrated TV. I place series creator Mindy Kaling in the "forgotten or overlooked" category simply because I don't hear people talking about her and I think they SHOULD.

 I know that some people aren't sure how they feel about her humor. I was originally one of those people. But then I actually paid attention to her work and now I'm definitely a Kaling-convert. 

WHY BOTHER? ALWAYS BOTHER.

What happens when one of the most respected theatre critics of our time steps on some toes? This, I suppose.
By Ali Gordon 

I'm in no position to call myself any sort of expert to weigh in on this situation, but I am a young artist, and a creator, so this matter concerns me. I am highly ambitious, but admittedly green. I try to understand and feel things on a universal level (as all writers must do) but sometimes, I fall short. I'm young, and I'm trying. I'm learning every day, but can't look back on what I created in the past and choose to resent it just because I may know and feel more today than I did yesterday. I want people to love what I make, and what I have to offer. And I invite people to hate it, too. But, I suppose, my greatest fear is for someone to look at what I've done - what I've poured my whole heart and soul into for a certain amount of time - and say "Eh, what's the point of it all?" Or, more simply (and as Times reviewer Ben Brantley said) "Why bother?"

Alec Baldwin has released an article entitled "How Broadway Has Changed" in response to the review Ben Brantley gave the current production of Orphans (which Mr. Baldwin co-stars in). 

The production has been trailed by drama, starting with the quitting/firing/who the hell knows of its original star, Shia LaBeouf. Then, by means of twitter, he released personal emails between himself, Mr. Baldwin, and the director, Dan Sullivan (among others). Gossip sites jumped on this juicy drama in a heartbeat, and even I kept up with all the new tidbits fastidiously (though a bit shamefully). Then, apparently, his "heartfelt apology email" was mostly plagairized??? Oy, vey. It's all too much. So firstly, the drama mostly eclipses any notice of the, well, actual PLAY-drama. Then, Brantley writes a review that is neither praising nor scathing, calling it a "dispiritingly pallid show" and saying, essentially, "why bother?" And, in Baldwin's words,

"In the case of Orphans, Brantley wrote "Why bother?" [...] If it's trash, then call it. But is it good trash or is the bar too low? Then call it. Is the piece ambitious and groundbreaking? Factor that in. But never say "why bother?"

And, as I previously stated, I'm no expert. I'm a wanna-be actress with great aspirations, and not a lot to show for it. Yet. I'm a writer, and I want to do sketch, short fiction, plays, one-person shows, musicals, short films, writing for television... you name it. And once again, I'm working on it. But I'm still green. I won't always be, but right now, I am. 

So yes, when I really dig deep... what is my greatest fear as a young creator?

That someone will look at my work - at my countless sleepless nights, my palms sweaty as I sit in the back of an audience watching people see my work for the first time, my butterflies as I stand in the wings waiting to go on stage - and they'll say, "Meh." They'll say, "fine." They'll say, "I guess it was okay - but not worth the effort."

And I will also admit to admiring the hell out of Ben Brantley, so I certainly don't want to put myself in a position of claiming a loss of respect. I think he's remarkably good at his job, and there's an awful lot I agree with him on. But yes, I do have to back Alec Baldwin here. You can't say "why bother." It's hard enough for people to have to bother in the first place. We live in a culture where now we aspire to be too-cool-to-care, but artists do exactly the opposite. We constantly put ourselves on the line. We scream, we care! we care! into the void, hoping someone - anyone - will care to listen.

So please, hate it. Or love it. But at least pick up the signal. 

I've never been to a show and regretted going. Sure, I may bemoan spending my hard-earned cash on seeing something I didn't enjoy, but the experience is never wasted. No matter the show, everything created is worthwhile. It adds to the education and the long-lasting canon of this very difficult, ever-changing medium of entertainment. Baldwin writes, "Brantley says we were wrong-headed to have even tried. Where would the theatre be if that was the prevalent thinking?"

And you know what?

I couldn't agree more.

(Sorry this time, Brantley.)

ALI GORDON is an actress, writer, comedian, optimist, and waffle enthusiast. Most frequently she can be heard doing funny voices. www.ali-gordon.com
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A GLIMPSE IN THE REAR VIEW MIRROR

As the school year draws to a close, this writer reevaluates her relative position in the creative universe. Introspection, reflection, and pensive distance-gazing abound.
By Annissa Omran (Writer/College Student) 

I try to avoid turning these blog posts into virtual diary entries, but this week marks a big event that leaves me with no choice but to get a little personal.

As of the day this post is published, I will officially be done with my first year of college.

(This was my exact face almost a year ago when they told me that orientation would be comprised of three 12 hour days with no breaks)

Anna Kendrick and I totally were freshmen at the same time this year. She worked at the campus radio station, I worked in the campus computer labs. She helped an underdog a cappella group take the competition world by storm, I studied for biology exams. She made out with Skylar Astin, I watched Skylar Astin in the movie theater and cried over Spring Awakening flashbacks.

We were practically sisters!

(I swear she is me. If I were a rising actress, previous kisser of Skylar Astin, and a legitimate Twitter comedian extrordinare)

But all joking aside, this year has been a real eye-opener for me.

I went through a lot to end up where I am now. For starters, I went in thinking I knew EXACTLY what I was going to do with my life. I was that kid who brushed off the sage advice of guidance counselors and wizened upperclassmen.

Switch majors? Question my career path? Me? I was so certain that neither of these things would ever come to pass that I arrogantly ignored the advice that explained what to do if you did find yourself in an existential crisis.

Not only did I come to learn that I really had NO idea what I was doing with my life, but I also came to realize that what I thought was just a hobby turned out to be something I simply could not live without.

STREAM THIS: HER MASTER'S VOICE

Nina Conti's revisionist documentary about a puppet pilgrimage is strange, deceptively simple, and ultimately devastating as it reveals the madness behind art, life, and love.
By Kimberly Lew (Playwright/Blogger)

As I've probably mentioned before, one of my favorite discussions of art and creation on Crazytown was B.T. Ryback's rumination on writing based on "what the author knows" and whether or not autobiography is where an artist should draw inspiration. While I certainly believe that as creators that we need to continue to push ourselves and reach outside of our experiences for new, compelling stories, I also have to admit that I personally have a fondness and fascination with artists who are not only willing to dig deep into their well of personal experiences for inspiration, but are also willing to attach their name to the final product. Going beyond simple storytelling, a lot of amazing artists have elevated their experiences to art, bringing into question what it means too retell history and how people can transform their experiences for the sake of an audience.

A particularly potent example of art-as-autobiography that I had the pleasure of experiencing recently was ventriloquist Nina Conti's docu-mockumentary, Her Master's Voice. An accomplished performer usually accompanied by Monkey, her crude counterpart, Nina Conti herself is an affable woman who will be the first to admit that ventriloquism is not everyone's idea of a good time. However, through her accomplished mentor and once-lover, Ken Campbell, Nina found ways of elevating puppetry and ventriloquism to an art form, one she executes quite entertainingly, as you can see from the following clip:

 

ONE LESS LONELY GIRL

Never Say Never? How about Never Say Anything?
By Alisha Giampola (Actor) 

You guys. Since the news broke that Justin Bieber was getting his WWII history on in Amsterdam and wrote a slightly awkward entry in the guestbook at the Anne Frank House, I'm sure you've all been wondering sleeplessly if Anne Frank would, in fact, have been a 'belieber' as Justin hoped. If you have somehow missed this amazing moment in American pop culture, and have not yet become alarmed that possibly no one under the age of 20 knows anything about Anne Frank, or you know, World War II, please take a moment to catch yourself up.

(And I really cannot even discuss right now that Justin Bieber was born in 1994, because that just makes me feel HORRIFYINGLY OLD. I need to procure a lawn, so I can start yelling at people to stay off of it.)  

To the credit of pretty much everyone on the planet, most people reacted on a spectrum between outrage and irritated disbelief at Bieber's comment, although 50 Cent had the Beib's back. In all fairness, if we ever hoped to discover what was on the mind of a teenage Jewish girl during the Holocaust, 50 Cent's guess is probably as good as anyone's. Also, it's pretty clear that Bieber's comments were made in fairly profound ignorance, as he doesn't even know who the Germans are, let alone the Nazis.

And then, Anne's own posthumous stepsister, Eva Schloss, steps forward and makes the ultimate defense for Bieber's comment. Eva constructs this very scientific logical syllogism for us: all 15 year old girls love Justin Bieber, Anne Frank was (and will eternally be) a 15 year old girl, therefore Anne Frank would have loved Justin Bieber. 

“Tell me what you like girl, tell me what you don’t.
I could be your Buzz Lightyear, fly across the globe.”

HATCHED: FRESH WORK. FRESHMEN

The coolest night in New York.
By Jen Littlefield (Choreographer/Librettist)

On Wednesday May 8th, the youngest students of Pace University's Musical Theater program will take over 54 Below at 9:30 and 11:30pm. Pace's tradition of introducing its freshmen class has developed into a big cabaret produced and curated by none other than our fearless leader, RSO, and held at Joe's Pub (the last two years) and now Midtown's IT venue. And don't get me wrong, this is a big deal for these kids, to perform in a reputable NYC venue their first year of college. But some of our students come to Pace with Broadway, Off-Broadway and tour credits already in their pocket (Annie, 13, Spring Awakening, Shrek, A Chorus LIne, I'm sure I'm forgetting some…), and this is a cool show in their already really cool lives in this business.

So the real reason I'm completely in love with this night and concept is that RSO uses the songs and short musicals written by his Musical Theater Writing classes as the material the freshmen sing. Just think about that for a minute: brand new composers and lyricists, many of which are seriously talented, are presenting their work created in the last four months in the most talked-about cabaret space in NYC. How f*cking amazing is that? 

HOW I MET A TONY NOMINEE

With the release of the Original Cast Recording of DOGFIGHT this week, I'm reminded of when I first decided I wanted to write for Musical Theater...

by Alexander Sage Oyen (Composer/Lyricist)

I started writing songs when I was twelve. I wanted to be John Mayer (and, yeah, I still kind of want to be John Mayer… maybe more like Ben Folds now) and I wanted to write pop tunes.

Actually, when I was twelve I was on a reality television show on VH1 called In Search of the Partridge Family.  It was a show about casting a show based on the fun 70’s show, The Partridge Family, which starred David Cassidy and Danny Bonaducci.  I got 3^rd for the role of Danny.

(Also...Emma Stone was on the show and she’s the coolest ever.  I’d give you video content, but I will never let the video content be released). 

My parents both come from a theatre background and I remember, after I lost on Partridge Family, being in the car with my father and him saying, “Why don’t you audition for a show? That could be fun!” My reply was sassy and curt- “Why would I ever do theatre? That’s lame.”

Well… fast forward five years. I’m seventeen now, and I’m in my junior year of high school. For the past three years I’ve been in the theatre division of my high school’s performing arts magnet program. Oh, how the tables had turned. And I had just started writing musicals. I had gone from a chump who thought that theatre had no business in my life to a chump who thought he had something to say about theatre.

That’s when I found some bootlegged demos from a new musical that had just opened and closed on Broadway.  The show was called GLORY DAYS  (Also, this was in the days of Myspace music pages and that’s where I found the stuff. I actually miss Myspace music. Or like… not really). GLORY DAYS is a wonderful show written by James Gardiner and Nick Blaemire about four high school friends who come back to find that not everything is exactly how they left it.  The score is so wonderful and so damn catchy.  I decided that I had to contact Nick, the composer/lyricist, and make him hear my stuff...

DEAR SELF (AND OTHERS EXPERIENCING SIMILIAR PROBLEMS OF AN EXISTENTIAL NATURE)

As the last weeks of the semester draw to a close for those still residing in Academia-land (or anybody really, we all have rough times), sometimes the fragile nerves of a creative mind just need to be soothed.
By Annissa Omran (Writer/College Student)

Hi [Insert applicable stress-afflicted individual's name here]

I know it's been tough.

I know you have that [insert relevant assignment/deadline] due this week. I know you've been toiling over it for a very long time; so long, in fact, that the library is thinking of dedicating a wing in your honor titled "That-over-stressed-kid-with-the-caffeine-induced-twitch Wing". Don't worry, they're hiring special attendants with mind reading capabilities so they can help a student find what they need even when a student (like you) is in the throes of deadline driven incoherence.

(Added bonus: ghostbusters at your beck and call. I know how creeped out you get in the stacks.)

I know your frayed nerves have been screaming out in agony, producing a perpetual echo of uncertainty and self-doubt that ricochets off the walls of your mind. I know you think that everyone can hear the erratic thrumming of your heart as it performs cartwheels in your chest cavity every time you consider how little time you have left.

But - it is going to be ok.

 Your writing is not bad and your professor/employer/lord-and-master will not hate you.

KEEP CALM AND BE SUPER EVIL

In which I admit that I like bad guys. And girls.
By Alisha Giampola (Actor) 

When I was about ten I spent every Tuesday and Thursday from June to August in a summer children's theatre group doing kid-friendly acting games, wearing really basic costumes that fit over my regular clothes, and taking regular breaks for snacks. The course culminated in a short play that we presented for our parents, the kids who took the Monday/Wednesday class, and probably a lot of press and important critcs and maybe some talent agents. All I knew was that I was super excited for that show- it was an updated, "hip" kids' version of Cinderella, and I already had my costume all planned out. When it came time to cast, the really sweet middle school drama teacher who had been directing us all summer asked me if I wanted to play Cinderella. I wasn't even a little bit flattered. "No thank you," I replied. "I would really prefer to be the evil stepmother." 

I wish I had a picture of that production to show you, but suffice to say that I played the Stepmother as a cross between Norma Desmond and Paris Hilton. Finally a childhood spent studying the subtle body language of Ursula and the minute eyebrow gestures of Jafar had paid off. Villains were interesting. Their motives are simple expressions of unadaulterated selfishness and I loved watching their intricate plans crumble. 

Recently Daniel and I have been marathoning old James Bond movies. We began at the beginning; Dr. No is the first Bond film, and one of only two (Goldfinger being the other) that is named for its villain. Immediately audiences were introduced to the idea that the bad guys in these movies were going to be the reason for watching. 007 might look fantastic drinking a cold martini, but no one but a Bond villain can pull off a full beige futuristic pants suit or steel teeth. Bond villains are the ultimate villain's villain. I started keeping track of their motivations for my own entertainment. Most of the first films are haunted by the incredibly complicated evil group of superevil, SPECTRE (the SPecial Executive for Counterintelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion). Besides having patented the most awesome company name ever, these guys specialize in creating crazy expensive elaborate plots to do relatively simple, or even vaguely unnecessary things. 

GEARHEAD, PART 6

Things are going well.  This feels wrong.
By Bob Simpson (Writer)

Writing Progress: Scenes 7 and 8 drafted.

Concerns:  Seems like everything is coming together nicely, so, naturally, I'm freaking out.

Humor level of play:  Did you see the new Louis C.K. special?  That guy in the third row?  Yeah, as funny as him.

Panic Level:  Rainbows.

Days until reading:  64

I'm great at expecting the worst.  It comes so natural and is often so accurate that it's little more than a reflex at this point.  I look at a work that I'm creating or have created, analyze it, and then think of ways to kill myself (though I usually just end up watching The Mindy Project...shut up).

But what happens when a week of rather productive writing has passed, and when I review the work I did, I'm not completely suicidal?  In fact, I'm feeling pretty good about what I accomplished.  It's coming together rather nicely, thank you. 

Naturally, shiny, new doubts pop into my head like, "Well, it seems readable right now, so it must be completely boring" or "If I think it's ok, then the majority of mankind will probably disagree and burn me in effigy."  Let me just say that last thought isn't necessarily negative - I've always wanted to be burnt in effigy for something.  I was pretty sure it would happen when I stole that Christian Council banner from my high school and defaced it (FYI, I wrote "Christian Council: where independent thinking is highly discouraged"), but I was sorely disappointed.