Why ask me to come?

Something that never makes sense to me is when someone asks me to come see a show of theirs, but then tags on, "Please, don't review it." I recently (let's say yesterday, because it was, indeed, yesterday) received an e-mail telling me that I should go to see one of my friend's shows, and that upon seeing it, I should try to get to word out about it. BUT, "please, don't review it." This is the same sort of behavior that led me to start this column to begin with a couple of years ago. At that time, I'd gotten fed up with friends making me feel obligated to see their Fringe shows, and then getting upset with me when I disliked it, even when they themselves thought the show was bad. In response, I devised a way to randomly determine the shows that I go to see in the Fringe, thereby avoiding going to see bad shows due to the obligation of friendship. Granted, I still occasionally see bad shows, and I sometimes see bad shows with friends in them, but I am not there because of the friend, it is coincidental, and I feel much less pressure about attending.

Here's a hint, folks: If you think your show isn't worthy of being reviewed, then it's probably not good to invite the reviewer. Another hint: Don't tell the reviewer, your friends, or anyone else, in the e-mail that you send inviting them, that you don't think it should be reviewed. That's a warning sign. A big red flag. It is an indication that you think the show is less than what it ought to be, and I'm not going to be inclined to shell out money to pay for it. Give your own shows positive press. And just remember that any publicity is good publicity in the event that someone does write about it in a medium that a bunch of people might read.

There is one group that I tend not to review, and that is educational theatre. I attended a performance last night of Frankenstein in Love at the Xperimental Theatre at the University of Minnesota. I knew someone in it, and I love seeing young actors learning the trade. That's all I have to say about it. I believe it is unfair to criticize or elevate those who are on the path to learning how to act, direct and design. BUT… once they are out in the real world, I see no reason to not review a play, even if it is in a setting for experimental works, or a workshop. As a reviewer you review the things that are appropriate. If it is a staged reading, I don't review the acting. That's not what is being put on display. I would likely comment on the strength of the script, however. Make sense?

I do have one friend who I told the other night that I was planning on coming to his show the next evening. He said, “I wouldn't.” That's fine with me. I didn't. He gave me a fair assessment of why to not see the show he was in. I, oddly enough, do not have a problem with someone knowing that their play is bad and telling me so in confidence. That is, so long as they are to telling me that and still begging me to come see it.

Okay… enough ranting for the moment.

On to random stuff:

I bought a banjo yesterday. Until now I have been able to play bass guitar, tuba, and bamboo flute (as well as having rudimentary skill on the slide trombone), but I felt a need to learn another instrument…actually, two. I also bought a ukulele. I started learning to play the banjo this morning via a DVD lesson. The Uke will wait for a little bit, I think.

While I have to performances of Reeling at the Children’s Theatre Company today, I also have two short plays to finish by midnight and a scene for my screenwriting class at UNO. Any idea what I’ll be doing backstage?

Three nights ago there was an unusual event: the constellation Orion was clearly visible from my front porch in St. Paul. Normally the lights from the rest of the city obscure the stars, but it was so beautiful that I ran in the house and got everyone to come outside and see the stars. It came to pass that I had to explain the constellation to everyone else. The belt, the sword, and the tunic where clear as day (well, night, really). It was exciting to me. I’ve probably bored you to tears with that bit of info. If so, I'm sorry.

I’m thinking of getting a pair of these for my car before the 2006 fringe: Check these out!

Are you as Hooked On Facts as I am?: "The country of Brazil is named after the brazil nut." -- Good thing we didn't name our country after the kind of nuts here, or we'd live in the coutry of Pecan.

I have started culling the list of companies that made it into this upcoming Fringe Festival, and I am really excited about it.

Once upon a time, there was a big, scary toad. This wasn't just any ordinary toad. No, it was a toad that stood twenty or thirty feet high. It had greenish brown skin and gave off a mist of swampy aroma from its moldy hide. Why was its hide moldy? I do not know. Why the swampy aroma? No one has ever given a reasonable answer. But this toad was just like that. Yes, it was. Yes, it was.

I’m going to go see a show tonight. I’m looking forward to it. I think I’ll go to Jeune Lune. That ought to inspire a little out-of-the-box thinking on the scripts that I need to tackle over the next few days.

My daughter is spending a week with her Grandparents (my mom & dad). That is such a sweet thing. I slept in today for the first time in I don’t know how long.

What the heck is up with that toad story? I don't get it.