This Can't Be Theater

Trevor and the Vanity Project

2008-10-20T15:29:00.000-07:00

Trevor was watching a rehearsal of something he'd written twenty-four hours earlier.

With the playwrights on strike, the Minx Theater was hit especially hard. All the other theaters in town had resorted to doing shows where the authors were dead and had been for awhile--Shakespeare, Chekhov, even Gorky.

Trevor didn't have the luxury of showcasing the classics. His theater was committed to doing edgy and fresh new work.

At first he contemplated letting the actors take a stab at writing, but even when the idea didn't send him into fits of hyperventilating, he knew none of the actors would take a chance on irritating any of the local playwrights.

That meant only one thing...

ANASTASIA: I would kill you if I had the chance.
MAXWELL: Do it. I want to taste what my blood feels like when its exposed by your own hand.

His own words were making him want to vomit.

This was a new kind of Hell.

Knock, knock.

Trevor turned around to see his ex-brother-in-law, Will, standing in the doorway.

TREVOR: Will?
WILL: Need an interruption?
TREVOR: Like a circus needs a sideshow. Take five everybody.

Trevor took Will to his office to talk.

WILL: So you wrote that?
TREVOR: You could say that. It's loosely based on my marriage to your sister.
WILL: Is that why the actress was dressed up like the Angel of Death?
TREVOR: No, but that is why the man had no balls. What can I do for you, Will?
WILL: Did you have any reason to want to kill my father?

This took Trevor aback, namely because--

TREVOR: Everyone wanted to kill your father.
WILL: So this is going to be trickier than I thought.
TREVOR: But that doesn't mean anybody did. He died of natural causes.
WILL: I'm not so sure about that.

Knock, Knock.

Emma was the one standing in the doorway this time.

EMMA: Trevor, we have a small problem with the show.
TREVOR: Besides the fact that I wrote it?
EMMA: Not that show. The show with Ivanov.
WILL: Oh right! The Ivanov show. How's that going?
EMMA: Ivanov's dead.
TREVOR: WHAT?
EMMA: They found him in his apartment this morning. He was murdered.

Will looked at Trevor with a sly look of shock.

TREVOR: That's...awful.

But what he was really thinking was--

He could have at least waited until tech was over that night.

Where There's Will

2008-10-18T09:52:00.001-07:00

Lisa had an unexpected visitor.

CUBBY: I can't throw him out, Miss Morgan.
LISA: Why not?
CUBBY: Because he's my boss' brother.

Her little brother, Will, had arrived.

LISA: Fine. I'll do it.

She walked into her office to find Will sitting behind her desk.

LISA: Well, that didn't take long.
WILL: Good to see you, too, Lisa.
LISA: Did another boarding school throw you out, William?

Calling him "William" always irritated him. But this time, he didn't seem phased.

WILL: I've come to avenge the murder of my father.
LISA: Have you been watching Hamlet again and fantasizing that one day you'll have substance?

Will was constantly looking for a revolution to fight in, and in the past few years Lisa had to clean up more than one of his messes. Their father had washed his hands of him long ago.

WILL: It doesn't upset you that Dad was killed right in this very room?
LISA: He wasn't killed, Will. The stake went in one end and out the other.
WILL: How lovely that you have a sense of humor about our father's demise.
LISA: What makes you think he was murdered?
WILL: I have my reasons.
LISA: Which you're not going to share with me?
WILL: Why should I? You're not going to do anything to help me find the killer.

He stood up and looked at the family photo on the wall. Lisa hadn't gotten around to taking it down yet.

LISA: Does this mean you'll be hanging around?
WILL: Indefinitely.
LISA: Oh goodie. Where are you staying?
WILL: Don't you worry about a thing, sis. I'm a big boy now.

He gave her a peck on the cheek, which she couldn't dodge in time. Still, he smiled.

WILL: I can take care of myself.

The Four Horsemen

2008-10-02T11:24:00.000-07:00

The meeting was being held at the Rome Center for the Arts downtown.

Lisa was the first to arrive, followed by Trevor, Lily, and Nicholas.

They were there to discuss plans for Arts Fest, a city-wide celebration of the arts. The four of them were to come to a consensus on how theater would be represented at the festival.

LISA: I think it seems fairly obvious--

This was going to end in violence.

LISA: --A tribute to Potter's Theater.

The other three looked at each other, not really surprised, but more galled.

NICHOLAS: And your father?
LISA: No, I have no interest in celebrating the life of my father. I simply think that with Potter's Theater ushering in a new era, it deserves--
TREVOR: Please don't use the word 'deserves.'
LISA: Trevor, you'll have your turn.
TREVOR: The Minx Theater has been around just as long as Potter's Theater.
NICHOLAS: Maybe we should just do a tribute to generic theater.
LILY: You mean theater in general?
NICHOLAS: No, I meant generic. Mediocre. Lame.

Nicholas flew across the room at Nicholas, but Lisa dived in front of him, sending the three of them hurtling into a wall. Lily grabbed a folder and tried hitting Nicholas with it while Lisa was holding back Trevor.

Ten minutes later, they were all seated again.

LILY: I think--

As she wiped the blood--not her own--off her arm.

LILY: That since so many new theater groups have sprung up--
LISA: We are not doing a tribute to new theater.
LILY: Why not?
LISA: Because Lily, and I say this with love and friendship, it's a dumb idea.
LILY: Okay.
NICHOLAS: I think it's a great idea.
LILY, TREVOR, and LISA: You do?
NICHOLAS: Sure. As long as we don't celebrate Lily's theater.

This time it was Lily's turn to fly across the room.

Fifteen minutes later, they were back at the table.

TREVOR: I think--

His lip swelling.

TREVOR: --That we should tell the Arts Fest organizers we're not going to be able to make a decision about this. Obviously, we all feel very passionately and--

The door to the conference room opened.

Reginald walked in along with three other people.

LISA: Reginald, what's going on?

Reginald sat at the head of the conference table.

REGINALD: Myself, and the other three local playwrights, heard that you four were putting together the theater presentation for Arts Fest.
NICHOLAS: Let me guess. You want to put on the show you've been writing that was topical back when contras were in?
REGINALD: Close. You're all going to do a presentation on local playwrights.
TREVOR: I'm sorry, but was that an imperative sentence? We don't have to do anything.
REGINALD: You'll do it, or Benjamin over there--

He pointed to a man with a shaggy beard who won a Pulitzer sometime in the 70's for writing a play about bakers.

REGINALD: --Calls his friends at Dramatists and Samuel French and makes sure it becomes very difficult for all of you to get rights to anything.

Trevor scoffed.

TREVOR: I'm not worried. I only do new plays.
NICHOLAS: I'll do Greek plays--I'll do all the Greek plays. I won't be blackmailed.
LISA: Shakespeare sells just fine as long as you market it right.
LILY: I could write my own shows!

Pause.

Laughter from all the playwrights.

The sole woman in the group spoke up.

MIRANDA: You try going around us on this, and you'll find yourself in more trouble than you know what to do with.
BENJAMIN: Actors are willing to piss off directors, and maybe even companies, but nobody's stupid enough to piss of a Playwright.
NICHOLAS: I'm sorry. Who are you?
BENJAMIN: I have a Pulitzer.

Reginald clapped his hands to get attention.

REGINALD: Lisa, it's a small request.
LISA: Forget it.

She stood.

LISA: We're not kowtowing to a bunch of people who haven't produced anything successful aside from righteous indignation.
NICHOLAS: Here, here.
LISA: There are plenty of writers who need work. You push this issue, and we'll go hire all of them to craft better scripts than you could produce if we strung you all out ecstasy and then put you in a room filled with stuffed animals.
BENJAMIN: How do you know about that?

Awkward silence.

LISA: My colleagues and I are leaving.
REGINALD: You don't want to do this.

All four of the Artistic Directors stood up, and walked out.

LILY: Who says we can't agree on something?

In the parking lot, Nicholas backed into Trevor's car, and another brawl began.

The Mutiny

2008-10-01T08:31:00.001-07:00

Lily was begging her actors not to leave.

They had just had a read-through of the new play Lily was hoping to produce. It was topical, gut-wrenching, and ultimately quite moving.

The actors hated it.

GLORIA: Why can't we do something funny? I'm sick of all this political stuff.
LILY: So you're just going to leave?
DONNIE: We're going to work at the Trenton Players. They're doing Barefoot in the Park.
LILY: Don't you want to do something significant?
GLORIA: I'd rather do something that people are actually going to see.

Lily's production--the thinly veiled attack on Nicholas Bennington--had not sold well, nor had it gotten good reviews.

Phillip Van Terriman called it--

"Almost as actually talking to Nicholas Bennington."

When Nicholas read that, he declared that one day he would murder Phillip, and not in a pleasant fashion.

LILY: I promise the next thing we do will be mainstream schlock, but first, can't we work on something with a little artistic integrity?
GLORIA: Let the other theaters do artistic integrity. We want to do Over the River and Through the Woods.
DONNIE: I've been in Into the Woods a few times.
LILY: A musical? You want to do A MUSICAL?

She flashed back to her college days, when she and Lisa would audition for the fall musical everyday.

LILY: When I get a brand new hairdo, and my--
DIRECTOR: NEXT!

It never stopped stinging.

The actors were all shuffling out. Lily realized she had to act fast. She'd never get people into the theater if they heard there was a mass exodus by the entire acting company.

LILY: Wait!

They stopped.

LILY: The Odd Couple. We'll do The Odd Couple if you all agree to stay.

The actors looked at each other, nodded, and returned to their seats.

Well, thought Lily, I didn't say how I was going to do it.

How Do You Remember All Those Lines?

2008-09-29T14:50:00.000-07:00

Nicholas was playing darts.

Ethan walked in and was nearly blinded by one.

ETHAN: Jesus!
NICHOLAS: Dammit! I almost hit the center!
ETHAN: Of what?

He moved the door to reveal a photo of Lily's face.

ETHAN: Very creative. Aren't you supposed to be learning lines?
NICHOLAS: I acted for most of my adult life. I think I can memorize a few lines.
ETHAN: And by a few you mean eighteen pages worth?
NICHOLAS: Have a seat.

Ethan sat in the chair.

NICHOLAS: How did the interview go?
ETHAN: Horribly.
NICHOLAS: You didn't get the job?
ETHAN: Of course I got the job. I just mean that the plan itself is horrible.
NICHOLAS: It's foolproof.
ETHAN: It's deceitful.
NICHOLAS: Maybe, but it's still foolproof.

Earlier than day, Ethan had applied for a job at Potter's Theater--working in the box office.

TARA: You're a little bit overqualified wouldn't you say, Mr. Bisquet?
ETHAN: Please, call me Evan.
TARA: All we could offer you is a supervisor position.
ETHAN: Oh, that's fine. I just want to get my foot in the door, so to speak.

He was speaking about getting inside Potter's Theater so he could get all the info on what Lisa was up to. It was common knowledge in Rome that nobody talked more trash about Potter's Theater than its own employees, and the box office was pretty much the reception area for everybody passing through the theater.

ETHAN: I just to be at the center of the action.
TARA: Terrific. You're hired.

Nicholas just got a man on the inside.

ETHAN: If Lisa finds out you're behind this--
NICHOLAS: I'm just going to have you hang around long enough to find out her plans for next season and then I'll pull you out. Scout's honor.
ETHAN: And am I supposed to creep around town for the rest of my life?
NICHOLAS: It's not like you're ever going to come in direct contact with Lisa. She's the Artistic Director. Her father didn't even know where the box office was.

There was a knock on the office door.

It was Alex, the director of the play.

NICHOLAS: I was considering making Alex my mole but that'd be too obvious.
ETHAN: Nicholas--
ALEX: Hey, if you can bring down that bitch, I'm all for it. She's turning the place upside down.
NICHOLAS: See that, Ethan? Everyone's on our side.
ALEX: Let's not get crazy here. I'm a free agent.
NICHOLAS: But you're working for me.
ALEX: And vice versa since you're my actor, which leads me to my next point. Why aren't you off-book?
NICHOLAS: Who said I'm not off-book?
ALEX: The day seems to be closing in on me. I should ride off and leave them all to their own devices.
NICHOLAS: What's that?
ALEX: That's the first line in the play. You're the one who's supposed to say it.
NICHOLAS: I like it.
ETHAN: I'll help him.
NICHOLAS: Nobody is helping me! I can learn lines. I'm not a buffoon.
ALEX: I see this calls for drastic measures.
NICHOLAS: What?

Alex went to the door and turned the lock.

NICHOLAS: What are you doing?
ALEX: Ethan, he might get violent.
ETHAN: I'm prepared.
ALEX: Good luck.

With that, he shut the door behind him.

NICHOLAS: Did he just lock us in here?
ETHAN: And he's not letting us out until you know your lines.
NICHOLAS: But that could take all night.
ETHAN: Let's hope not. I start my new job tomorrow.

Ethan took the copy of the script off Nicholas' desk.

NICHOLAS: You're kidding right.
ETHAN: No, that's not your first line. Do you want me to repeat it for you?
NICHOLAS: Ethan--
ETHAN: The day seems to be closing in on me.
NICHOLAS: That's not the only thing closing in on me.

It was going to be a long night.

Trouble at the Minx

2008-09-27T12:09:00.000-07:00

Ritchie was not pleased.

In exchange for Trevor coming in to help Potter's Theater with Cloud Nine, Lisa agreed to lend some of her people to his production--Cutting Yogurt.

She sent over Wes, the costume designer, Penny, an intern, and Ritchie to act in the godforsaken disaster.

RITCHIE: Lisa, I thought we were getting along.
LISA: It wasn't my choice, Ritchie. Trevor specifically requested you.
RITCHIE: Why? He doesn't even know me.
LISA: He knows you're not one of the regular Potter's regulars, and that's good enough for him.

So Ritchie had been transferred.

Not much rehearsing had been done in the week since he'd been at the Minx Theater. Emma had been left in charge of handling Ivanov, the European dictator Trevor considered a director.

It turns out handling Ivanov was a show unto itself.

EMMA: I'm sorry, but I have no idea where I can get you a little person so late in the rehearsal process.
IVANOV: The role of Terry must be played by a shortie!
EMMA: They prefer to be called little people.
IVANOV: Shortie! Shortie! Shortie!

Wes walked in with Ritchie's costume for the play.

IVANOV: What is that?
RITCHIE: My costume.
IVANOV: It is like looking at a monkey eat its own feces. Take it out of here!
WES: I don't get paid to deal with this.

He walked out and nearly collided into Penny.

PENNY: This is so exciting! I'm so excited to be here! Just to work on a production with you, Mr. Ivanov is--just--
RITCHIE: Exciting?
PENNY: YES!
EMMA: Penny?
PENNY: Yes?
EMMA: Get out.
PENNY: Sure thing!

Emma found that she liked bossing people around. Yet another reason she had to get the Minx under her control, and with Trevor at Potter's Theater that might be easier than she had originally intended.

He had left them all out on a limb, so to speak. Not being here so that he could clean up his ex-wife's show as a favor was, in her mind, incredibly irresponsible. But it did present her with the chance she'd been looking for to undermine him.

She pulled the director aside.

EMMA: Ivanov, listen. Forget the script. Forget costumes. Forget everything. I'll give you whatever you want, but you have to promise me this thing will be your own invention. I want you to go as crazy as humanly possible.
IVANOV: This is what Trevor wants as well?
EMMA: Would I give you instructions like that if they didn't come right from Trevor?
IVANOV: Excellent! I begin immediately!

Wes, Penny, and Ritchie were gathered in front of the maestro.

IVANOV: Gay man--
WES: Wes.
IVANOV: Yes, yes, I know, yes. I want togas--saran wrap togas.
WES: Are you serious?
EMMA: Just do it, please. He's the director.
IVANOV: I am Captain!
WES: Of what? The Hindenburg?
IVANOV: Penny, you are actress.
PENNY: I am?
WES and EMMA: She is?
IVANOV: You are!

A gleam of fame shot through Penny's murky eyes.

PENNY: Do I have lines?
IVANOV: As many as you like--you never stop talking throughout the entire play.
PENNY: I do nothing but talk aimlessly?
WES: That should be a cinch.
IVANOV: Ritchie--you're out.
RITCHIE: Hallelujah.

Ritchie stood up to leave, but Emma panicked. If Ritchie went back to Potter's Theater and told Trevor what was going on, he'd rush back here and fix everything.

EMMA: No! I need you!
RITCHIE: For what?
EMMA: Ivanov, you have to use Ritchie.
RITCHIE and IVANOV: Why?
EMMA: Because...he's your little person!
RITCHIE: What?
IVANOV: Little?
EMMA: Your shortie! He's your shortie!
IVANOV: He's tall.
EMMA: He can walk around on his knees. Look at his little arms.
RITCHIE: I'm not doing that!
EMMA: Oh yes you are! Or I can tell Lisa you're being insubordinate.
RITCHIE: Where's my union rep?
EMMA: You're not in the union and this isn't a union house.
RITCHIE: Great, I'm screwed. Wes, get me kneepads.
WES: I have plenty...trust me.

Everything was set in place. Emma was feeling like a Bond villainess, and loving it.

Once this show trainwrecked, Trevor would be out, Emma would be in, and the days of shorties and European tyrants would be over.

PENNY: So wait--what's my motivation going to be?

Trevor and the Actors

2008-09-25T15:48:00.000-07:00

Quenton was kissing Elliot backstage when they heard his voice.

TREVOR: Are we going to be having a rehearsal here anytime soon?

Elliot kissed Quenton one more time and promised to rendezvous with him again as soon as he could get his wife, Daphne, off to sleep.

All the actors gathered in the theater to meet the man who was going to make their show a success.

DAPHNE: What were you doing with Quenton backstage?
ELLIOT: We were going over our lines.
QUENTON: He was drilling me.

Trevor was supposed to take their lackluster production of Cloud Nine, and in less than a week, turn it into something spectacular so that Potter's Theater could keep up its winning streak.

Lisa was there to help the transition. The show's director, Reginald, was back at home stewing, refusing to take any further part in the show.

LISA: I want you all to show Trevor much, much more respect than you've shown me so far.

Delia raised her hand.

LISA: No, Delia he isn't gay.

Delia smiled.

LISA: But that doesn't mean you can sleep with him.

Delia stopped smiling.

Trevor pulled Lisa aside for a private convo.

TREVOR: So you think they're all phoning in their performances on purpose?
LISA: To try and get me fired, yes.
TREVOR: But they got such good reviews for the last show.
LISA: Luckily everyone thought they were just doing stylized acting.
TREVOR: Are they capable of doing anything else?
LISA: The source material was also quite good.
TREVOR: So is Cloud Nine.
LISA: Yes, but people know Cloud Nine. They're going to know if it's being poorly acted.
DELIA: SECRETS DON'T MAKE FRIENDS!

Trevor smiled back at Delia, melting her instantly.

TREVOR: You need to get them against each other. Right now they're all aligned.
LISA: How do I do that?
TREVOR: You call yourself an artistic director and you can't make all the actors hate each other? They're actors. They long to hate each other.
LISA: Then why don't they?
TREVOR: Because you haven't given them any reason to--yet.

Trevor called for five minutes of looking over blocking and lines, while he and Lisa made the rounds. His first stop was with Daphne.

TREVOR: Daphne, I can't tell you how much I enjoyed your performance in Mourning Becomes Electra last year.
DAPHNE: Oh, thank you, Trevor. I wish our new Artistic Director had your kind of taste.
LISA: I'm standing right here.
DAPHNE: Noted.
TREVOR: I was telling Lisa that you should absolutely be playing Betty.
DAPHNE: So why aren't I?

Trevor and Lisa had planned this before they walked over to Daphne.

LISA: My father said that he always felt Victoria was the better actress.
DAPHNE: That's bullnanny! Sorry, I dislike swearing.
TREVOR: Okay, but for fuck's sake, if you're going to fucking show the audiences that you can do better than that drunken bitch, then do it!
DAPHNE: Oh, I will. Don't you worry.

The next stop was Quenton.

TREVOR: Quenton, I was just talking with Lisa, and we have to tell you, we were a little worried when we heard what Daphne says about you, but--
QUENTON: Wait--what?
TREVOR: How you're so flamboyant that you pull focus in every scene you're in.
QUENTON: Are you kidding? Putting her onstage is like lighting someone's hair on fire and then trying to pretend it's not there.
LISA: Like the elephant in the room.
QUENTON: Look, can we leave Delia out of this?
TREVOR: Maybe you need to prove to Daphne that you can handle being...subtler.
QUENTON: I'm going to do just that.

And then I'm going to do someone else, he thought.

Even in his head, the puns were bad.

OLIVER: I'm not getting stale!
LISA: Oliver, it's perfectly understandable. Nobody can stay the ingenue forever.
OLIVER: Of course I--they--anybody can! It just takes proper skin care and a good pouty face.
TREVOR: Well you certainly have those.
OLIVER: I knew Quenton was bitchy, but that's just out of line.
LISA: Looks like you've got something to prove.

As they walked away, Trevor remarked to Lisa--

TREVOR: You're getting better at this.
LISA: I'm learning from the Yoda of manipulation.

Delia was an easy sell.

DELIA: Oliver called me what--?
LISA: Delia, any woman that's had children is going to have trouble getting back her appearance right away.
DELIA: I didn't have children, Lisa! I was in rehab for painkillers and sex addiction!
TREVOR: Heaven's Helpers?
DELIA: Anonymous Angels.
TREVOR: Wow, you shelled out the good money.
DELIA: If anything I came back skinnier!
LISA: Maybe a little more intensity in the role would make up for what some others might see as laziness in...um...physicality.
DELIA: God, I could cry.
TREVOR and LISA: Save it.

Elliot was a hard sell.

ELLIOT: If you think I believe for one second that Delia formulated any critique about anything that well thought-out, you're crazy.
LISA: How about I just pay you more money and give you a better role in the next show? Then will you stop acting like a sullen child and start acting like an...actor?
ELLIOT: Can I get my assistant back?
LISA: No, but I will loan you Cubby on Wednesdays.
ELLIOT: The one with the cute butt?
LISA: Huh?
ELLIOT: Nothing. It's a deal. Consider the master back at work.
TREVOR: I'll scoff later so as not to offend you. By the way, do you think you could turn Alex, Helen, and Victoria against everyone? They're not cast in this show, but I don't want to leave them out.
ELLIOT: I'll tell Alex Helen called him washed up. I'll tell Helen Alex called her overrated. And I'll Victoria Alex and Helen said they could out-drink her.
TREVOR: Wow, that was easy.

Rehearsal went by in no time after that. The performances were instantly better, and the show seemed to be in good shape.

After rehearsal was over, Lisa agreed to buy Trevor a drink.

LISA: Ritchie's pretty good. We won't need to do anything to him.
TREVOR: Not even for just the fun of it?
LISA: Eh, maybe.
TREVOR: I knew those tricks would work.
LISA: They never worked on me.
TREVOR: That's why I had to marry you instead.

Lisa looked at him, and for a brief moment saw the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago.

TREVOR: Want to screw for old time's sake?

And then feeling was gone, and the drink--

TREVOR: Hey!

--was in his face.

The Afterthought Slot

2008-09-23T13:07:00.001-07:00

Lisa was sitting in her office feeling pretty pleased with herself.

The reviews for the first production at Potter's Theater under Lisa's watch were stellar.
The reviews for Trevor's show at the Minx were less than stellar.
Nicholas had been humiliated the other night at Lily's opening.

All was right with the world.

Knock, knock.

LISA: Entre!

Reginald walked into the office.

REGINALD: You know, anything other than 'come in' is a bit pretentious.
LISA: I'm on cloud nine, Trevor, don't bring me down.
REGINALD: Speaking of cloud nine, when are you planning on seeing it?
LISA: Seeing what?
REGINALD: Cloud Nine.
LISA: I'm confused.
REGINALD: Clearly. Lisa, Cloud Nine is the second show of the season.
LISA: Oh fuck! The Afterthought slot.

Since the inception of Potter's Theater, the second slot had always been thought of as the Afterthought slot.

All the work and time over the summer goes into the season opener, and the fact that another show follows a month later means that show usually gets little to no attention or fanfare.

LISA: Is it good?
REGINALD: No.
LISA: Whose directing it?
REGINALD: Me.
LISA: We let you direct now?
REGINALD: I've always directed.
LISA: But you're the resident playwright.
REGINALD: Yes, but around year five, when I hadn't produced so much as a one-act, your father decided he should put me to some use.
LISA: So what happened to Cloud Nine?
REGINALD: The acting is horrible.
LISA: What else is new? When does it open?
REGINALD: Next Tuesday.
LISA: Next Tuesday is in five days. You should have come to me sooner.
REGINALD: I did.

He motioned to her inbox, which was filled with memos about the bad shape the show was in--the last one simply reading "Help."

REGINALD: They're insolent and awful, Lisa. You have to talk to them.

Lisa agreed to attend Reginald's tech rehearsal that night, and see what was what.

What was what was what Reginald described--bad acting.

LISA: Okay, there's only one thing to do.
REGINALD: Fire everyone?
LISA: No. Overcomplicate it.
REGINALD: What?
LISA: We'll make it so confusing nobody will dare say anything bad about it for fear of looking stupid. Trevor does it all the time.
REGINALD: But I don't.
LISA: That's why I'm going to ask Trevor to come overhaul it tomorrow.
REGINALD: You're taking me off the project?
LISA: Not really. You'll still get directing credit--you'll just have to share a little bit of it with Trevor.
REGINALD: I refuse!
LISA: Reginald, the show cannot go up like this.
REGINALD: So talk to the actors.
LISA: Talking isn't going to do any good. They're awful! We need to pull focus from them and put it on something else. Like puppets or oddly shaped balloons.
REGINALD: Your father would have died rather than let Trevor back in here.
LISA: Luckily, he's already dead, and I'm here, so Trevor's in.

With that, she walked away from him.

Helen approached Reginald.

REGINALD: She's gotten out of control already.
HELEN: She's got too much of her father in her.
REGINALD: At least she's not digging into the murder.
HELEN: No, but once Trevor's hanging around.
REGINALD: Don't worry. There's a way to take care of Trevor.
HELEN: See you back at my place tonight?
REGINALD: Well, I really should write...something.
HELEN: Nine o'clock then?
REGINALD: I'll bring the wine.

Helen went back to learning her lines--she felt she still had plenty of time since the show opened in five days.

Reginald was busy determining how to get rid of Trevor.

The easy way or the hard way.

This Is Your Life

2008-09-22T15:16:00.000-07:00

The audience was rustling.

They were making that funny noise a group of people makes when they're not uncomfortable yet, but feel pretty sure they're about to be.

Rumors had been circulating about what Lily's project of "artistic merit" was going to be--and guesses had been made that it was everything from--

ALEX: A meditation on the war in Iraq using modern dance.

--to--

REGINALD: A list of random words followed by photos of dead antelopes projected onto a screen.

--and everyone's favorite--

VICTORIA: Something potentially watchable--even while sober.

The star of the night, before the show even began, was undeniable Nicholas Bennington, who Lily had been feuding with ever since the last opening night at the Lily Group.

Everyone thought he would be black-listed from the event, as he was from the Potter's Theater opening night, but Lily had made sure that he had a seat front row center.

NICHOLAS: Clearly, the girl feels like she has something to prove.

That she did.

After the requisite announcements regarding cell phones and throat lozenge wrappers, the lights came up on a stage featuring a man with no hair--standing completely naked.

There were a few gasps, but everyone wanted to look liberal, so they simply nodded.

(No one is sure why it's appropriate to nod at naked people, but it seems right.)

There was one giggle from Victoria, but since she was drunk, everyone excused it.

NAKED MAN: My name is Nicholas Bennington.

Now there were gasps.

NAKED MAN: I haven't had an erection my entire life.

Gasps, and giggling from Victoria.

Everyone was gazing down at Nicholas expecting him to storm the stage and knock the naked man over.

But he was more dumbstruck than anything.

The naked man continued his monologue. It was the story of the life of Nicholas Bennington. It involved molesting animals, drinking urine, and half the plot of Flashdance.

Everyone was trying not to laugh, but nobody was doing a terribly good job.

By the end, nobody knew whether to applaud or run out of the theater before Nicholas turned into Godzilla and committed mass, hysterical murder.

When the lights dimmed, all eyes were on him.

Slowly, very slowly, he rose.

And began to clap.

Nobody could tell why, but in Nicholas' head, the inner monologue was unraveling--

NICHOLAS: Well-played, Lily. Well-played.

Followed by--

NICHOLAS: Now, I believe, it's my turn.

Letting Go

2008-09-20T07:12:00.000-07:00

Nicholas was in his office playing 50's Boss with Ritchie.

RITCHIE: Are you sure I can't get you another cup of coffee, Mr. Bennington?

Ritchie leaned seductively over Nicholas' desk trying to call to mind a pin-up secretary a la Mad Men.

Nicholas looked at him and said--

NICHOLAS: Maybe I should let him know we can do slides.
RITCHIE: Nicholas--
NICHOLAS: A few slides would really add to the piece.
RITCHIE: You promised.
NICHOLAS: But--
RITCHIE: This is my one night off from rehearsal.
NICHOLAS: I know--
RITCHIE: And you promised you wouldn't talk about the show.
NICHOLAS: Yes, but--
RITCHIE: Because it's in Alex's hands, and he's very capable.
NICHOLAS: But if he screws up--

At that moment the door opened and Ethan walked in to hear Ritchie say--

RITCHIE: YOU ARE KILLING MY SEX BUZZ!

Ethan looked like he might faint. The thought of his boss having sex with anyone was disturbing on many levels. Nicholas was like an asexual math teacher to him.

Nicholas was thrilled that Ethan walked in. Maybe that meant Alex needed help. He jumped up knocking Ritchie off his desk.

NICHOLAS: I'm coming!
ETHAN: Nicholas, I didn't--

But he was already on his way into the theater.

Alex was blocking a scene from the Nicholas Bennington Group's second production of the year. Nicholas had managed to convince Alex to risk decapitation at the hands of Lisa in order to bring some legitimacy to the theater, but now Nicholas wasn't sure he was ready to loosen the reins just yet.

NICHOLAS: Hey Alex, need help?
ALEX: No.
NICHOLAS: Oh, because Ethan--
ALEX: We're all ordering out. He was supposed to see if you wanted anything.
NICHOLAS: Oh. I thought maybe you needed help.
ALEX: With what?
NICHOLAS: You know...directing type...things.
ALEX: We might need a five.

The stage manager called five, and Alex took Nicholas aside.

ALEX: You promised.
NICHOLAS: Everyone keeps saying that to me today.
ALEX: Aren't you supposed to be playing 9 to 5 upstairs with Ritchie?
NICHOLAS: I can't focus on anything. I'm nervous.
ALEX: That I'm going to fail miserably at this?
NICHOLAS: No.
ALEX: That I'm incompetent?
NICHOLAS: No.
ALEX: That the Tanzanian boar I hired will somehow get loose and run rampant in the theater?
NICHOLAS: There's a Tanzanian boar?
ALEX: I see you were lying when you answered the first two questions.
NICHOLAS: This theater means everything to me. It has my name on it. If anything happens--
ALEX: Nicholas, if you can't trust me, there's no point in me being here. I can't have you rushing into the theater at every moment making me look stupid in front of the cast. A cast you got to pick, I should mention.

Nicholas knew Alex was right, but it didn't change the fact that he was going to...

Wait a second.

NICHOLAS: I did pick the cast, didn't I?
ALEX: Yes, you did. Which brings me to my next point. Have you found me another leading man now that Terry's gone to New York?
NICHOLAS: You bet I have.
ALEX: Oh, Nicholas, no--
NICHOLAS: I'm making my return to acting.

All the other actors overheard this, and began to develop nervous tics.

Eurotrash

2008-09-18T09:07:00.001-07:00

Trevor was getting screamed at by his newest employee.

IVANOV: YOU INSUFFERABLE WASTE OF SKIN AND MUCUS!

All Trevor could think was--

This is why you don't hire Europeans.

At least not European directors.

Emma had convinced Trevor that since Lisa's play was a success, Nicholas had secured Alex as the director of his next piece, and Lily had gone off the deep end--he needed to do something significant to draw some attention to himself.

So, they pieced together as much money as they could out of the Minx Theater budget and hired the most notable European director who would schlep his way to Rome, New Hampshire just to do a new play by some playwright who was now locked away for cutting herself and refusing to eat anything but strawberry yogurt.

The play was entitled, appropriately, Cutting Yogurt.

The director went by one name:

Ivanov.

IVANOV: You! Skinny girl, no breasts!
EMMA: Emma.
IVANOV: No breats is your name. You shall be called No Breasts!
EMMA: Sir, you're working in America now and--
TREVOR: Emma, the man is a genius. Let him call you what he wants.
IVANOV: Thank you, Pussyman.

Ivanov had arrived yesterday and within minutes of being inside the theater had made the following demands:

1) That all the entrances and exits be guarded by a man over six feet tall lest the assassins who Ivanov believed were hunting him show up.
2) That the smoke detectors and sprinkler systems be turned off since Ivanov believed fire was life and anything that could destroy fire was death.
3) That chopped up scrap paper be strewn throughout the theater to create a feeling of chaos and disruption.

EMMA: So basically we turned the place into a deathtrap for him.
TREVOR: The greatest honor of my life would be having my death be the result of Ivanov.

Trevor was infatuated with the man ever since he saw his production of Endgame where buckets of gerbils were poured onto the stage and scurried off into the audience sending just about everyone screaming out of the theater.

It was the most influential moment of Trevor's life.

IVANOV: Pussyman!
TREVOR: Yes sir?
IVANOV: I can't work in here. It's too constricting.
EMMA: But we did everything you asked.
IVANOV: You allow No Breasts to speak out of turn, Pussyman?
EMMA: Were you not alive during woman's lib?
IVANOV: Go let your leg hair grow, you feeble thing. Ivanov is working--BUT NOT HERE! Find me another space to rehearse in!

PHONE CALL #1:

LISA: Absolutely not. I am not letting that madman into my theater.
TREVOR: If you do, I'll tell you a secret that you don't know.
LISA: There's nothing I don't know, Trevor.
TREVOR: I'll give you the paintings you didn't get in the divorce.
LISA: You said those paintings were lost on the way to my house.
TREVOR: See, there are things you don't know.
LISA: He's not stepping foot in my theater, Trevor.
TREVOR: Fine. Maybe I'll ask Nicholas.
LISA: HA! Go ahead. Two Napoleon complexes in one place--one of them European--that should be a blast.

PHONE CALL #2:

LILY: I can't, Trevor, I'm sorry.
TREVOR: Lily, please don't make me call Nicholas.
LILY: I'm in rehearsals, Trevor!
TREVOR: Every night?
LILY: And every day. I haven't left this theater in a week!
TREVOR: Where do you shower?
LILY: I don't. Art is dirty.
TREVOR: Lily, I'm working on a play where a girl smears herself in grape jelly and then cuts the words 'Peanut Butter' into her chest, and even I think that's excessive.
LILY: Nicholas says what I do is irrelevant. Well, I'm going to show him relevance like he's never seen.
TREVOR: Or smelled, for that matter.
LILY: I have to go, Trevor. My hour of creative chanting starts in a few minutes.
TREVOR: Good luck with that.

PHONE CALL #3:

NICHOLAS: No.
TREVOR: Nicholas--
NICHOLAS: No.
TREVOR: Nick--
NICHOLAS: No.
TREVOR: Nicky, baby.
NICHOLAS: No. No. No. No.
TREVOR: I'll tell Lisa you stole Alex out from under her.
NICHOLAS: He can have it Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays.
TREVOR: Nice doing business with you.
NICHOLAS: If he papers the walls with used condoms again--
TREVOR: See you on opening night!

Now that the issue of space was settled, Trevor felt a lot better. He was relaxing in the lighting booth getting high when Emma walked in, presumably to kill his buzz.

EMMA: This was a huge mistake.
TREVOR: You thought it would be a good idea.
EMMA: I'm unthinking that. Can we send him back to Yugoslavia?
TREVOR: Czechoslovakia.
EMMA: Wherever.
TREVOR: Emma--
EMMA: If he keeps calling me No Breasts and telling me to put on a pretty dress, I'm going to call I.N.S., Trevor.
TREVOR: He's a genius.
EMMA: So was Lennon, until somebody shot him. Reflect on that.

And she left.

Trevor felt he could identify with Ivanov. He was also incredibly misunderstood.

Aren't all great artists?

My First Time at the Rodeo

2008-09-17T10:00:00.000-07:00

Kevin was sitting at the head of a long table.

KEVIN: Let's talk.

At the other end of the table was Lisa, the Artistic Director of Potter's Theater, still in her opening night outfit, Reginald, the Resident Playwright, and Cubby, Lisa's assistant.

KEVIN: Shouldn't there be more...I don't know...official people here?
LISA: I was hoping we could settle this quietly.
KEVIN: You were hoping you could keep this under wraps so your ass doesn't get canned?
LISA: That too.
CUBBY: Should I write all this down, Miss--
LISA, REGINALD: No.
KEVIN: Make sure you spell my last name right. It's B-R-O-C-C-O-L-I. Just like the vegetable.
REGINALD: How charming.
KEVIN: I'm Italian. We're the ones who invented vengeance.
CUBBY: Can I get anybody a cocktail? There's an open bar downstairs.
REGINALD: I'd better go keep Victoria away from it.

Reginald left the room.

LISA: Cubby, I'll have that cocktail.
CUBBY: Excellent. What exactly--
LISA: Just make sure it takes you fifteen minutes to get it.
CUBBY: Gotcha.

Cubby left Lisa and Kevin alone.

LISA: So you wanted to talk?
KEVIN: You stole that play from me.
LISA: It's a popular piece. Lots of people have done it.
KEVIN: It has minority characters in it, which means nobody at Potter's Theater would touch it with a ten-foot pole.
LISA: You should watch how you talk about the biggest theater in the state.
KEVIN: Sweetie, I'm from Rhode Island. Manipulation is the state activity of choice. I talk trash, and I gossip, and I never met a bridge I wasn't willing to burn. So if you want to scare me, you'd better threaten something other than getting blacklisted in a town where at least once a year somebody does a shitty production of The Skin of Our Teeth and calls it theater.
LISA: What do you want?
KEVIN: I'm going to do the same play you premiered tonight in a few months, and you're not going to do a damn thing to stop it.
LISA: Are you serious?

Lisa was expecting him to ask for one of the company members as an indentured servant. She had already decided she was going to give him Delia.

KEVIN: I know you have enough clout to block me from getting space, and a director, and maybe even some talent since actors are pussies with hilighters, but I'd ask that you don't do anything, but give your blessing.
LISA: The only thing I'd bless is a ship sailing your little twink ass out of my harbor.
KEVIN: Then I called up dramatists.
LISA: I'll bribe someone.
KEVIN: Then I'll call up Phillip Van what's-his-name and have him do a little write-up on the biggest scandal to his this town since your Daddy died.
LISA: Leave my father out of this.
KEVIN: I don't fight fair, cookie cutter. Just give me what I want and I'll leave you alone.

Lisa stood up and made her way around the table to where Kevin was sitting.

LISA: The question is--who's going to want to see your production after the best theater in town's done it? Do you plan on corralling some high-brow actors from New York to come down and make a big scene?
KEVIN: No. I'm going to do it with local talent. It's not like you're using any, after all. This theater's been locked up tighter than a bank vault for years, and aside from your recent hiring of Ritchie, nobody new has been invited in. So, Willy Wonka, I'm going to use the resentment every actor and director has in this town against you for closing the factory to put on a production that's going to put yours to shame with none of your money and fancy cocktails.
LISA: So you want to go head-to-head with Potter's Theater?
KEVIN: Well, think about it, if my production is worse, people say--Be fair. He didn't have the resources of Potter's Theater. But if it's even the slightest bit more innovative or interesting than your little production, just imagine what that would do for me--and for you. It's a win-win as far as I'm concerned.

Kevin stood up.

LISA: I guess the only thing to say then is good luck.
KEVIN: May the best bitch win.

They shook hands at the end of the long table.

And as they sized up each other's grip, both had the same thought in mind:

I'm taking you down.

Holding for the House

2008-09-09T22:33:00.000-07:00

It was the biggest night of Lisa's life...so far.

Potter's Theater was opening its season and its new Artistic Director was just getting her heels on.

Five minutes later, the heels broke.

LISA: What a good omen.

She was making her way down the stairs to the lobby when the heel on her left foot broke, and she went careening down three stairs right into her assistant Cubby.

CUBBY: Are you all right?
LISA: I think Nicholas Bennington rigged that heel.
CUBBY: He's not here, is he?
LISA: No, I've banned him from the building.
CUBBY: Can you do that?
LISA: Haven't you heard Cubby? I'm the man.
CUBBY: Yes, ma'am.
LISA: Where's the booze?

Lisa had ordered enough liquor to take out a frat house. Her feeling was that the production was all right, aside from the fact that the actors were awful--as usual.

What she didn't know was that they were purposefully being awful hoping to tank her first show as Artistic Director and send her back where she came from.

At that very moment backstage--

ALEX: Elliot, stop emoting so much in your scene. You're almost good.
HELEN: How was I, Alex?
ALEX: Terrible. Keep it up.
DELIA: Alex! What if I twitched for no reason?
DAPHNE: Lisa might pick up on that.
ALEX: Do it anyway. Tell her it's an allergic reaction. Tonight is all that matters. Once that review comes out tomorrow and Phillip pans the show, Lisa's going to have to resign.
HELEN: I really shouldn't be plotting against my own stepdaughter.
QUENTON: Do you want your assistant back or not?
HELEN: Oh God, how I miss little what's-her-name. She was like a puppy to me.
OLIVER: I'm making my character dull and lifeless!
QUENTON: As opposed to all your other characters?
VICTORIA: I'm going onstage sober. That oughta tank the performance.

This was fun for the actors. Whereas they normally were terrible and uncaring as to how they were perceived, usually they at least pulled it together for opening night. Allowing themselves to be even worse than normal was sort of fun in a way. It was like playing charades with blind people acting out the clues.

Meanwhile, back in the lobby, Lisa was talking with her ex-husband, Trevor.

TREVOR: Let me direct a show here.
LISA: Absolutely not.
TREVOR: You used to say I was the best director you knew.
LISA: That was when I was being a supportive wife. Now I'm a bitchy AD. Everything you do is overwrought and pretentious. That includes your girlfriends.
EMMA: I'm standing right here.
LISA: That's why I didn't bother to speak up.

Before Trevor could continue with making his case, and before Emma could throw her drink in Lisa's face, Ritchie approached with good news.

RITCHIE: I just talked with Nicholas.
LISA: And?
RITCHIE: He's scheming. I could hear it in his voice.
LISA: What's he going to do? Stand outside the theater and--

Just then, the sounds of yelling were heard outside.

RITCHIE: Are you psychic or something?

Right in front of the theater, Nicholas Bennington was holding a placard that said--

"POTTER'S THEATER--IF IT'S BROKEN, PRETEND TO FIX IT"

LISA: What does that even mean?
TREVOR: Who are those people?
EMMA: The actors from Nicholas' new theater.

Ten people were parading outside with placards saying equally contrived things. Nicholas had a megaphone.

NICHOLAS: If you want to see cliches displayed proudly, step right in, ladies and gentlemen.

Lisa looked at Cubby.

LISA: Can I have him killed?
CUBBY: Arrested maybe.
LISA: Arrested and then killed in jail by a large man named Toast?
CUBBY: I'll look into it.

Lisa felt a hand on her shoulder.

REGINALD: Lisa, darling.
LISA: Reg, thank god you're here. My heel is broke, the actors suck--more than usual--present company excluded, Ritchie--
RITCHIE: No, I'm sucking pretty hard, too. I really don't like this show.
LISA: --And Nicholas is protesting outside like a gay Norma Rae.
REGINALD: We don't have the rights.
LISA: Excuse me?
REGINALD: For the play. We don't have the rights.
LISA: What are you talking about? Cubby?
CUBBY: I'm not in charge of--
LISA: FIX IT!

Cubby ran off crying.

REGINALD: Apparently, somebody else bought them.
LISA: Why am I finding out about this now?
TREVOR: Because everyone in Rome hates you.

Lisa shot a look at Trevor.

LISA: You knew about this?
TREVOR: I thought maybe you were trying to get away with something.
EMMA: It would have been pretty daring of you.
LISA: IT'S ILLEGAL!

Just outside, there was a scream.

Everyone looked to see Nicholas get pelted with an egg.

REGINALD: It seems the crowd doesn't approve of Nicholas' ranting.
RITCHIE: It's not the crowd. Look across the street.

Across the street, Lily and her acting company were stationed with eggs and tomatoes, and were throwing them at Nicholas and his company.

LILY: Is this artistically relevant enough for you, Nicholas?
NICHOLAS: Troops! Hurl your placards at them!

The drivers in passing cars were not pleased.

LISA: Great. Les Miz has erupted outside. What else can go wrong?
VOICE: Excuse me?

Lisa turned around expecting to see one of the four Horsemen, but instead, saw a young man that she could have sworn--

KEVIN: I don't believe we've met.
LISA: The restaurant.
KEVIN: Not really anyway.
RITCHIE: Lisa, this is my friend, Kevin.
LISA: You know him?
TREVOR: Who are you?
KEVIN: I'm the guy with the rights to play that's going on in ten minutes, which means I'm Lisa's new best friend.

All Lisa could say was--

LISA: We're going to have to hold for the house.

Artistically Relevant

2008-09-08T13:56:00.001-07:00

Lily was at the post-opening night party for The Tempest.

The evening had been a rousing success. Phillip Van Terriman, the local theater critic, was laughing throughout the run, and afterwards came over to tell her how thoroughly he had enjoyed himself.

Lily had turned the reception area of the converted design office where her new theater resided into a lovely little island with cocktails being served in hollowed out pineapples.

It was a little excessive, but she wasn't ignorant to how much of an impact she needed to make. Everybody was anybody in the Rome theater scene was within feet of her.

Luckily, the first person she was going to deal with was a friend.

LISA: Terrific production, Lily. I really enjoyed it.

Lisa hadn't enjoyed the production at all, but she laughed at all the right places in support of her friend.

LILY: Thank you so much. Who's this handsome guy on your arm?
RITCHIE: Don't get too excited. I'm just looking around for that yummy boy who played Caliban.
LISA: Ritchie is the new resident actor at Potter's Theater.
LILY: I didn't know you were looking for new actors.
LISA: Just to replace Nicholas, but I welcomed the opportunity to get some new blood in the theater.
VOICE: Your father's on the desk wasn't enough, Lisa?

The three turned to see Nicholas Bennington make his way over to them.

LILY: That was tacky, Nicholas.
NICHOLAS: I'm sorry, but I thought tacky was the theme of the night. I mean, honestly, pineapples?

Nicholas extended his hand to Ritchie.

NICHOLAS: Have we met?
RITCHIE: Aside from sleeping together, no, we haven't.
NICHOLAS: I see Ritchie's not going to play my little game.
LILY: You two slept together?
LISA: Ritchie, I don't know if your new health coverage takes care of s.t.d. testing.
RITCHIE: Be nice, Lisa.

Nicholas laughed very loudly, and Lily realized if she didn't calm him down he could make a scene.

LILY: So I'm assuming you didn't like the play, Nicholas?
NICHOLAS: Are you kidding? I loved it.
LISA, RITCHIE, and LILY: You did?
NICHOLAS: It was terrific, but then again, it's The Tempest. You don't have to do anything to it. You just have to try not to screw it up.
LISA: A very simplistic yet unsurprising theory coming from you.
VOICE: I actually agree.

Lily knew who this would be. Trevor showed up at the party blotto, most likely because the review for Bless the Frogs and Toads had come out that morning, and...well...it wasn't kind.

From the review by Phillip Van Terriman in The Rome Gazette

"Watching Bless the Frogs and Toads is like being shot out of a cannon into a swamp full of crocodiles that tap dance on you before they disembowel you."

Phillip was being kind.

TREVOR: I thought the production was great, but completely irrelevant.
LILY: What do you mean irrelevant?
TREVOR: Lily, you're doing community theater mainstays here with trumped up production values. Nothing you've done had any artistic relevance. Do you think anybody's going to remember this show five years from now?
LISA: As opposed to Kiss the Iguanas, which I'm sure will be talked about for decades.
TREVOR: Make fun if you must, but at least I'm trying to say something. I'm trying to make a difference. What are you doing besides making some money?

Trevor stumbled off leaving Lily feeling like a mainstream hack. She felt like her night had been ruined.

NICHOLAS: Oh Lily, I forgot to tell you. Alex is going to be directing my next show.
LILY: That's impossible. Alex has no interest in directing.

Alex had told her as much the night before when they were lying in bed together after taking in a movie.

ALEX: I will never direct--ever.

Alex had lied.

NICHOLAS: No, I think he just didn't want to direct here, and after what I saw tonight I can't blame him. Where's the challenge, Lily? You're never going to attract great talent if you don't produce pieces great talent is drawn to. Hell, you might as well do Godspell and follow it up with Barefoot in the Park at the rate you're going.
LISA: Nicholas, why don't you climb up on a table and make a fool of yourself? Oh wait, you've already done that once this year.
NICHOLAS: I do have to go chat with Phillip. I want to make sure he gets a good quote from regarding your little talent show--oh sorry, I mean--production.

At this point, Lily was nearly in tears.

LISA: Lily, don't listen to a word he said--or Trevor.
RITCHIE: They're both catty little bitches.
LISA: I should know, I was married to one.
RITCHIE: And I bedded the other.
LISA: They're jealous because you have a huge success on your hands.

But the truth was--

LILY: They're right. I'm not doing anything of note. I'm just doing what's easy.

And it occurred to her that Alex had suggested as much, and then deserted her to go work with Nicholas. It was almost like...

...He didn't want to be near her.

LILY: I feel sick.

She tried running to the bathroom but it was blocked by a crowd of patrons, so instead she turned and--

PHILLIP: Oh nooooo...

--threw up right into Phillip Van Terriman's pineapple.

NICHOLAS: Well, Phillip, that should give you a hell of a headline.

It was then that Lily changed her entire outlook on theater.

And a war was about to begin.

Nicholas at Auditions

2008-09-06T11:00:00.000-07:00

Nicholas was auditioning for his next production.

His theater group was just about ready to debut Gore Vidal's The Best Man in a tiny little auditorium at a local high school.

He could have secured a better space, but it would have been outside Rome, and that was the same as doing a production in Tanzania.

If you weren't doing something in Rome, you might as well not be doing it.

The stress over the production and the impending auditions led him to do something rather rash less than twenty-four hours earlier.

He had made love to a stranger.

They met at a local bar, and when they got to talking it was revealed that they had a shared interest in theater. The other man was new to town, and had absolutely no idea who Nicholas was--this was appealing.

Back to Nicholas' house they went, where they proceeded to go at each other for several hours only to fall onto Nicholas' kitchen floor--your guess is as good as mine or theirs as to how that happened--exhausted and giddy.

The other man's name was--

NICHOLAS: Ritchie. That's a cute name.
RITCHIE: I'm a cute guy.
NICHOLAS: Are you a cute actor?
RITCHIE: I can be. But I can also be a real bitch. Why? Are you a director?
NICHOLAS: I am now.
RITCHIE: Where?
NICHOLAS: I just started my own company. The Nicholas Bennington Group.
RITCHIE: Cool. Maybe one day we'll work together.
NICHOLAS: Well we're actually having auditions tomorrow, and since you've already climbed onto the casting couch--

Ritchie laughed but inched away slightly.

RITCHIE: Thanks, but I already have a job here in town.
NICHOLAS: Where?
RITCHIE: Potter's Theater. I'm their new resident actor.

The position Nicholas was fired from a few months earlier.

NICHOLAS: That's great.

He chose not to share this with Ritchie...not yet.

ETHAN: Are you ready to begin?
NICHOLAS: I'm never ready.

Ethan was Nicholas' new right-hand man. Ethan had been Nicholas' intern at Potter's Theater and they had stayed in touch over the years. When Nicholas went off to start his own company, he called Ethan right away, and Ethan--who had been working at a law firm doing workthat would make 80% of the population kill themselves--promptly accepted the position.

ETHAN: What show did you see last night?
NICHOLAS: Oh, that piece of crap at the Minx. Something about iguanas.
ETHAN: Bless the Frogs and Toads.
NICHOLAS: Right, that.
ETHAN: So it was bad?
NICHOLAS: It was worse. It was boring. I found myself reciting the alphabet to make the time go by.
ETHAN: Anybody good in the show we could steal?
NICHOLAS: No, Trevor has no head for casting. He just uses whoever he wants to fuck.
ETHAN: And you?
NICHOLAS: I cast people I've already fucked.
ETHAN: On that note, let the auditions begin.

Within the first hour, they saw twenty-five people.

ACTOR: Hi, I'll be doing a monologue from Hamlet.
ACTRESS: Hi, I'll be doing Ophelia from Hamlet.
ACTOR: Hi, I'll be doing Claudius from Hamlet.
ACTRESS: I'll be presenting Gertrude from William Shakespeare's masterwork--
ACTOR: Hamlet.
ACTRESS: Hamlet.
ACTOR: The Imaginary Invalid.
NICHOLAS and ETHAN: Really?
ACTOR: Actually, let me just do Hamlet.

Nicholas wanted to kill a small child by feeding it to a wolverine.

NICHOLAS: Don't they teach anything else in school these days?
ETHAN: This isn't exactly a cultural hub, Nick. It's Rome, New Hampshire.
NICHOLAS: But we're not even doing a classical piece. We're doing The Dazzle. It's contemporary! It's Richard Greenberg for godsakes!
ETHAN: We could reuse some people from The Best Man.
NICHOLAS: Those idiots? Are you kidding? They're theatrical left-overs.
ETHAN: Well until we get a good reputation behind us, that's who we're going to get.
NICHOLAS: That little twit Lili doesn't seem to be having any trouble getting people.
ETHAN: Well it's easier to get people to do The Tempest than some obscure play nobody's ever heard of!

Ethan was the only one allowed to talk to Nicholas like this, because Nicholas needed to be brought down occasionally. Usually he'd still put up a good fight, but he could feel himself beginning to doubt his choice.

NICHOLAS: I want to do stuff that matters. Relevant pieces!
ETHAN: You can be relevant after you're rich. When you're poor, you cater to the masses!
NICHOLAS: And that includes actors? You want me to cast tater tot thespians?
ETHAN: If that's what it takes!
NICHOLAS: God I wish someone would take the community out of community theater.
ETHAN: Is that what we're here to do?
NICHOLAS: No, but that's sure as hell where we're headed unless--

Nicholas had a spark of genius.

NICHOLAS: Get me a phone.

He knew that a good director could draw in good actors, but he'd need a pretty big name to get talent through the door. And it was that idiot Lily who gave him an idea.

Her mentor was one of the biggest names in town.

ALEX: No way.
NICHOLAS: Alex, you love this play. You've told me you love this play.
ALEX: Which is why I'll buy tickets to it just like everybody else.
NICHOLAS: I don't need you in the seats. I need you in the director's chair.
ALEX: Why don't you direct it?
NICHOLAS: I would, but people hate me.
ALEX: I hate you.
NICHOLAS: I'm willing to ignore that if you'll come help me.
ALEX: You just want to take a jab at Lili.
NICHOLAS: Yes, but I also want good actors and you can bring them to me.
ALEX: And what do you think Lisa the Artistic Hitler would say about this?
NICHOLAS: She can't stop you from directing somewhere else, only acting somewhere else.

Alex realized this was true, and he had always wanted to tackle directing.

Upsetting Lisa was just the frosting on the cake.

But Lily had already asked him to direct and he said no. If he said yes to Nicholas, Lili might never speak to him again...

ALEX: When do we start?

Before leaving the school, Nicholas saw a young man sitting outside the auditorium.

NICHOLAS: I'm sorry, who--?
RITCHIE: Forget me already?
NICHOLAS: Ohhh hello. Sorry, you had your back to me.
RITCHIE: Familiar position for us, no?
NICHOLAS: So I'm guessing you didn't come for a second date?
RITCHIE: Did you trick me into sleeping with you as some sort of weird revenge on me taking your old job?
NICHOLAS: No, but I have to admit, I find the irony delicious.
RITCHIE: If Lisa finds out--
NICHOLAS: So, don't let her.
RITCHIE: I was going to say she might want me to be a double agent and give me a raise.
NICHOLAS: Would you do it?
RITCHIE: I'd consider it. Do you want to grab a drink?
NICHOLAS: Sure. I like a little danger.
RITCHIE: Any preferences?
NICHOLAS: As long as you don't do Hamlet when we get there.

A thought popped into Nicholas' head.

We'll just see who you end up working for...

Trevor, In Previews

2008-09-04T09:59:00.001-07:00

Trevor was backstage.

It was preview night for Bless the Frogs and Toads at the Minx Theater. The preview nights were always scheduled for early September to get out of the way of the steamroller that was Potter's Theater's season opener.

Word was out that Lisa, Potter's Theater's new Artistic Director and Trevor's ex-wife, was shaking things up--starting with the first show of the season.

EMMA: Isn't this exciting? I'm so excited. Are you excited?
TREVOR: I'm underwhelmed and sexually frustrated. I might need you to help with that.
EMMA: Absolutely. I can imagine how stressed you are.
TREVOR: My ex-wife is back. I'd cut myself, but I'm waiting until we do a show involving animal sacrifice. Fake blood isn't cheap.

Emma was Trevor's intern aka assistant aka lover aka kiss-ass.

But Emma, like everyone in Rome, has ulterior motives.

EMMA: So...did you read it?
TREVOR: Read what?
EMMA: My proposal.
TREVOR: Don't you read all proposals sent to me?
EMMA: Yes.
TREVOR: So how could I read your proposal, Emma? Think about it.

Trevor isn't this nasty to everybody, just his assistants. He thinks it keeps them in line.

TREVOR: Was it worth reading?

He's right.

Emma has been the assistant to three nice people, and she ate them all up and spit them out. She's set her sights on replacing Trevor as the Artistic Director of the Minx Theater, and to do that, she was going to have to grin and play dumb.

EMMA: Wellll...it was about wanting to premiere a musical here.
TREVOR: Musicals are food for the deformed and retarded.
EMMA: Oh, come on now. Think of the great hallmarks of musical theater! Cabaret, Company, Hallelujah Baby!
TREVOR: Are those shows or Gwenyth Paltrow's children?
EMMA: Musicals are fantastic when done right!

Emma hates musicals. She just knows that they bring in audience, and she who brings the audience brings nothing but good publicity onto herself.

TREVOR: What's the shitshow about?
EMMA: It's called Eat, Eat, Eat. It's about cannibals that fall in love.

Trevor thought maybe he was hallucinating.

Strike that--he wished he was hallucinating.

TREVOR: Let me get this straight. You want to do a musical?
EMMA: Yes.
TREVOR: About cannibals?
EMMA: I know it's a hard sell.
TREVOR: It's not a sell at all. It's the anti-sell.
EMMA: Nothing great is ever conventional.
TREVOR: Are you kidding me? Everything great is conventional. Gourmet dessert, pop music, The CW--
EMMA: You've built your whole career on the unconventional!
TREVOR: Emma, look onstage.

Emma glanced at the empty space and the audience leafing through their program waiting for the show to start.

TREVOR: These people are unshockable. They come here to see people dressed as dancing oregano, aborted fetuses dueling on a pirate ship, and a monkey reading from the Old Testament.
EMMA: I know, that was our season brochure last year.
TREVOR: They expect these things. And we give them--and generously. That makes us conventional, and also, at times, contrived.
EMMA: So why do it?
TREVOR: Because we're goddammed good at it, that's why.
EMMA: But cannibals would be sooo shocking!
TREVOR: That's the point. They'd be too shocking.
EMMA: More shocking that dancing fetuses?
TREVOR: Typically shocking, which is what we don't want. They want to know how we're going to attempt to shock them. We can't step outside our bag of tricks.

The time had come to do the opening announcements.

EMMA: Are you going to go out there?
TREVOR: You do them. I don't have the energy.

Lately, that seemed to be Trevor's mantra.

Lisa's First Day

2008-09-03T00:34:00.000-07:00

Lisa arrived at Potter's Theater at approximately 9am.

She was the new Artistic Director, taking over for her father, Darren, who had been--

REGINALD: So sorry about the heart attack, darling.
LISA: Not that much of a shock, considering his diet consisted of vodka and rage.

Reginald, her father's best friend, and the Playwright-in-Residence at Potter's Theater met him in the lobby.

From there, they moved on to Theater B, the smaller of the three Potter's Theater spaces.

REGINALD: Are you nervous at all?
LISA: Why would I be nervous? I'm happy to take over. My father was very proud of this place.
REGINALD: Why? It turned him into an alcoholic, a homosexual, and a raging bitch.
LISA: No, that was my stepmother.
VOICE: Lisa! Sweetheart!

Speak of the devil, Lisa thought.

LISA: Speak of the devil.

And she said it, too.

REGINALD: Be kind. She's just lost a husband.
LISA: More like a meal ticket.

Reginald and Lisa turned around to come face-to-face with Helen, one of the resident actresses at Potter's Theater, and Darren's widow.

Helen, it should be noted, didn't miss Darren at all.

HELLEN: Oh God, I miss your father so much.

Helen, it should also be noted, is a compulsive liar.

HELEN: He was my moon, and my sky, and my ocean.
LISA: Is that Ragtime?
HELEN: Oohhh, someone's been boning up on their theater!
REGINALD: Even famous movie directors have to see live performance sometime.
LISA: I directed one movie.
HELEN: And several music videos. Do you know which one I loved? The one with those three boys--
LISA: The Jonas Brothers?
HELEN: They seem so talented.
LISA: Yes, as long as you keep straight which one is gay, you're fine.
REGINALD: Well, darling, if you grew up around this place, that's something you've had a lot of practice with, I suppose.

Lisa, Reginald, and Helen waited in Theater B for what seemed like an hour.

LISA: It's been almost an hour.

Okay, it actually was an hour.

LISA: Where are they?

Lisa had called a meeting with all the resident actors, but only Helen had showed up, and that's just because she wanted to find out how much Lisa had gotten in the will.

HELEN: You know I can't help but remember how generous your father was--
LISA: I'm not telling you how much he left me.
HELEN: You always were spunky.
LISA: You mean a heinous bitch.
HELEN: I'd never say heinous.
REGINALD: That's because you don't know what it means.

Before Helen could respond with something like--

HELEN: Any new scenes from that play you've been working on for the past fifteen years, Reg?

--Yeah, something like that.

The doors opened and a group of young twenty-somethings flocked into Theater B.

LISA: Are these our actors?
REGINALD: No, these are our interns.
INTERN #1: Sorry we're late. They told us 10am.
LISA: Who's they?
INTERN #2: The actors.
LISA: I'm confused.
HELEN: The resident actors get interns to shadow them as part of some learning thing.
REGINALD: It's called indentured servitude.
LISA: That's ridiculous. These interns should be learning something not substituting for the actors at company meetings. Important company meetings, nonetheless.
HELEN: It's not like they weren't planning to meet you.
INTERN #3: They're all going to be at rehearsal tonight. They figured they'd meet you then.
LISA: And why is that?
REGINALD: Because you're directing the play they're rehearsing.

Lisa didn't know about this.

LISA: I knew that.

She dismissed the interns, except for Intern #3 who she named Cubby and took on as her own personal assistant, reasoning that--

LISA: I'm the Artistic Director. I need an assistant. Actors don't.

--But knowing she was full of it.

She had just about reached her office--her father's old office--when she was accosted by a little man.

LITTLE MAN: Are you Lisa?
LISA: I'm Miss Tyler, yes.
LITTLE MAN: I'm Wes Littleman. I'm your resident costume designer.
LISA: Nice to meet you. Won't you come into my--

She loved saying this next part.

LISA: --New off--

Or she would have loved saying it if Wes had let her finish.

WES: We have a problem.
LISA: With my office?
WES: No.
LISA: Then can we discuss it in my office?
WES: It's fairly simple.
LISA: Can I hand it off to my assistant, Cubby?
WES: No.
LISA: He's incredibly capable. Granted, I just met him a few minutes ago.
WES: You need to handle it.
LISA: Why?
WES: Because it concerns your ex-husband.
LISA: Fucker!

Pause.

LISA: Sorry whenever someone mentions Trevor that's the first thing that pops out of my mouth.

Lisa and Trevor had been married. The marriage ended for the following reasons:

1) Trevor didn't cast Lisa in his shows.
2) Trevor slept with the girls he did cast.
3) The third reason is a mystery.

The problem was that Potter's Theater had loaned Trevor's theater--The Minx Theater, located two blocks south of Potter, a chicken costume.

Trevor was refusing to give the costume back.

Lisa walked the two blocks to the Minx Theater, hating that she was going to have to go into the place that caused her so much pain.

Cubby walked with her.

CUBBY: Was this where you lit him on fire?
LISA: I never lit him on fire, but yes, this is where I would have had I lit him on fire.

She resented having to handle this situation on her first day, when what she really wanted to do was decorate her new office.

Trevor was lying on the stage when she walked into the theater. He was surrounded by naked women.

LISA: What do you call this play, Trevor?
TREVOR: We don't have a title for it yet.
LISA: I could think of a few.

Trevor stood up and faced his ex-wife.

TREVOR: I'd like to take you from behind.
LISA: I'd like to do the same to you, but with a much larger instrument. Perhaps a steel rod or a tennis racket.
CUBBY: Ouch.
TREVOR: Who's this?
LISA: My new lover.
CUBBY: New assistant.
LISA: He serves many functions.

The Minx Theater was strictly into avante garde work. Trevor was currently in rehearsals for a production of Bless the Frogs and Toads, but he didn't want to tell Lisa that for fear she would mock the title.

LISA: You're doing something with a stupid title, aren't you?
TREVOR: What do you want, Lisa?
LISA: My chicken costume. Potter's Theater loaned it to you, and now we need it back.
TREVOR: Why?
LISA: Because it's ours.
TREVOR: It's mine now.
LISA: Is this when the pissing contest begins? Because I drank a large amount of coffee this morning and I'm standing over some girl's mouth, so if that's what this is--
TREVOR: Anastasia, move. Baroness is crazy.
ANASTASIA: Dah.
LISA: Where is it, Trevor?
TREVOR: Let me ravage you one last time and then you can have it.
LISA: How about I just go get it in the back since you only have one wardrobe rack--unless of course you suddenly became successful in the time I've been away.

Lisa moved to the back of the theater with Trevor hot on her heels. Cubby tried standing in his way, but a naked girl--Anastasia--pulled him down on top of her and started chanting in his ear.

He whimpered, but it was to no avail.

Lisa found the chicken costume, but as she was pulling it off the rack, Trevor grabbed it as well.

LISA: Let go of the chicken, Trevor.
TREVOR: You don't even remember what this is, do you?
LISA: Was it a rooster in a past life?
TREVOR: It was the first costume I ever wore when I acted at the Potter's Theater.

Lisa remembered a very bad show her father directed--an adaptation of Animal Farm simply called The Farm.

Trevor played a chicken in it.

She let go of the costume.

LISA: Keep it.
TREVOR: Thank you.
LISA: You could have just asked.
TREVOR: Then you wouldn't have come.
LISA: Get over me, Trevor. You didn't want me in your plays, so you can't have me in your life. It's as simple as that.
TREVOR: My plays are my life.
LISA: There you go.

Lisa left and walked back the two blocks with Cubby who was now in love with Anastasia.

When she got to the theater it was time for lunch, which meant postponing decorating her office. She had promised her friend Lily they would eat together at their old spot--Cafe Tre.

(Sidenote: Cafe Tre is neither a cafe nor does it serve French food of any kind. Welcome to Rome, New Hampshire.)

LILY: A chicken?
LISA: Trevor was always odd.
LILY: Now he just makes a living at it.
LISA: So tell me about this company you started.

Lily had done two successful summer productions with her new company--The Lily Group--and was now mounting a third.

LILY: We're doing The Tempest.
LISA: Isn't that a little...
LILY: Mainstream?
LISA: Yeah. I mean, you used to scoff at that kind of thing in school.

Lily and Lisa had gone to college together. Lily had always been interested in directing despite the fact that it was looked at as a boys club, and Lisa had starred in just about everything Lily had directed.

Neither thought the other was talented enough to make it, and both were shocked at the other's success, but that's nothing either of them would say.

LISA: I mean, I'm completely thrilled for you.
LILY: I'm so thrilled for you too!
LISA: So The Tempest--
LILY: Well, we did a summer production of A Doll's House, and it went over so well that it gave me an idea--

Actually, it was her mentor and lover Alex's idea--

LILY: I should just do the plays that people want to see. Who am I to shove stuff down people's throats?
LISA: Isn't that what Artistic Directors do?
LILY: Think about it though. You're going to do whatever you do, and it's going to be great because it'll have Potter's Theater stamped all over it. Trevor does the edgy stuff. Nicholas Bennington started his own company over the summer and they're doing the more political stuff. So somebody has to do the...um...
LISA: Banal showpieces?
LILY: Yeah! So hey, why not me?
LISA: Won't that leave you artistically unsatisfied?
LILY: I figure once I get the company past a successful season or two I can do whatever I want.

On top of that, Lily was too simple to ever be unsatisfied in any way.

At a nearby table, someone was listening to this and couldn't believe what he was hearing.

KEVIN: I can't believe what I'm hearing.

Kevin was having a business meeting with his friend Amy about putting on a production. The two were going over his script of choice--The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, but couldn't help overhearing what Lisa and Lily were saying.

AMY: It's just how it goes, I guess.
KEVIN: They're making theater sound like selling used cars.
AMY: Don't be a snob. I really want French food. We should never have gone to a restaurant with a French name.
KEVIN: I'm not being a snob, but c'mon? Categorizing it like that? So-and-so does political theater, what's-his-name does the edgy stuff, oh and then there's the guy across town who pees on lawn gnomes and closes out his season with Pippin.
AMY: I think I might have dated that guy at one point.
KEVIN: What happened to doing something because you feel passionately about it?
AMY: A recession, that's what happened. Passion projects aren't any good unless they can be everybody's passion.
KEVIN: Well, this will be.

He held up the copy of the script he had brought with him.

KEVIN: We are going to knock this town on its ass.

Once Kevin and Amy were finished with lunch, having discussed some important details of their project, Lisa turned to Lily and said--

LISA: I want to read that script.
LILY: You were listening to them?
LISA: Weren't you?
LILY: Of course. I was a theater major. Eavesdropping was a core requirement.

Lisa turned around and was shocked and elated to see that Kevin had forgotten his script at the table.

She ran over, grabbed it, and brought it back to Lily.

LILY: You're stealing that?
LISA: Ssshhh!

Lisa read the inside cover.

LISA: Property of Kevin Broccoli. Who's Kevin Broccoli?
LILY: No clue.
LISA: The Last Days of Judas Iscariot. Sounds Bohemian.
LILY: Then keep it away from me. I've got a nice financial aura around me now and I don't need shocking religious pieces tearing it away from me.
LISA: I'll read it and let you know how bad it is. These college kids are always pushing for some awful, over-worked play just so they can star in it.
LILY: Like when we did Private Lives so you could play Amanda?
LISA: That was different!

After lunch, Lisa went back to her office.

CUBBY: Miss Morgan?

At least, she tried.

LISA: Yes, Cubby?
CUBBY: Nicholas Bennington is waiting in the lobby for you.
LISA: Why couldn't he come up to my office? I have an office now.
CUBBY: He said he wanted to wait in the lobby.
LISA: Is there any way we could trick him into going to my office? I like having home field advantage.
CUBBY: Sorry, I don't have much experience in teleporting people.
LISA: You're fired. Kidding. Maybe. I don't know. I'll go deal with him.

Nicholas had quit Potter's Theater a few months earlier in a very dramatic way, and since then he had formed his own theater group, and was putting on a production of The Best Man by Gore Vidal. He thought the production was going along nicely, but after some careful thought--and the realization that if the play failed, he'd be working at a fast food joint within weeks--he decided to grovel for his job back.

Of course, he would do it in his own special way.

NICHOLAS: Lisa! Look how grown-up you've gotten!
LISA: You're not getting your old job back.
NICHOLAS: And still as big a kidder as ever.
LISA: I'm serious, Nicholas.
NICHOLAS: I was hoping you'd be more level-headed than your father.
LISA: Actually, my temper is much worse. Although I don't plan on sleeping with any of the actors, so maybe it'll all even out.
NICHOLAS: You know, my production--
LISA: Could be a huge success? Maybe. But even if it is, I'm not worried. There's plenty of room in this town for all our theaters, Nicholas. I'm sorry my father treated you so poorly, but from what I hear you gave as good as you got. I sincerely wish you nothing but the best.
NICHOLAS: As much as I appreciate that, I should warn you that if you let me leave this theater without my old position back, I'll make good on my threat to level this place within a year.
LISA: In that case...bring it on, Poli-sci.

Nicholas left the lobby for the second time in a few months, having been rebuffed by a member of the Tyler family.

That night at rehearsal, all the actors assembled--even those not in the production--to finally meet their new artistic director.

A roll call--

QUENTON: I hope she doesn't plan on doing Beckett. I'd rather work on a chain gang.

Quenton was the bitter queen of the group.

DAPHNE: She can't be much worse than Darren.

Daphne, the queen bee.

OLIVER: I heard they suspect Darren might have been murdered.

Oliver, the once-fresh-and-new actor who was quickly losing his luster.

DELIA: By who? A subscriber?

Delia, the insecure, egomaniac.

ELLIOT: Maybe he didn't like his seats.

Elliot, Daphne's husband, the unassuming leader.

HELEN: You are all aware I'm sitting right here?

You've met Helen.

ALEX: Oh shut up, Helen. You hated that man more than you hate your arm fat.

Alex, the bitter could-have-been, and Lily's lover/mentor.

ELLIOT: Maybe she planned on getting rid of both?
HELEN: That's an awful thing to say! And Darren was not murdered. He had a bad heart.

And finally--

VICTORIA: Didn't they used to serve wine at the first rehearsals?

Victoria, the lush.

(And in this group, that's saying something.)

Lisa walked into the room with Cubby and Reginald behind her, and everybody quieted down.

LISA: First of all, I'd like to thank you all for sending your interns to the meeting an hour late this morning. The assistant program is suspended--indefinitely.

This nearly caused a riot.

LISA: The last time I checked this wasn't Warner Brothers and none of you are Vivian Leigh. If you want something done, you're going to do it yourself. The interns have more important things to do.
CUBBY: Miss Morgan, do you still need me to get you a coffee?
LISA: After I'm done with my important speech, Cubby.
CUBBY: Okay.
LISA: Also, we're no longer doing whatever schlock play my father planned on putting on. The subscribers will be notified tomorrow that we're changing the first show of the season and probably the rest of the season, too.
OLIVER: But I'm supposed to have a lead in this schlock play!
LISA: If you stop whining you might have a lead in the one we're doing now.
DAPHNE: Which is?

Lisa handed out scripts.

LISA: It's called The Last Days of Judas Iscariot.

Lisa had read it earlier that afternoon, and fell in love with it. She thought it was just the jolt Potter's Theater needed to get some much-needed attention.

As for the fact that some guy had been talking about doing it at the restaurant, that was probably just a pipe dream. Besides, theater wasn't the place for consideration.

LISA: I hope you'll like it as much as I do. And if you don't, too bad. The days of coddling the actors here are over.

More riotous murmuring.

LISA: As a matter of fact, I'm going to get you all on your toes this season, because by June one of you is going to be gone.
VICTORIA: I'm sorry, I'm a little hungover. Did you just say you're firing one of us at the end of the year?
LISA: That's right.
DELIA: Will it be based on how pretty the person is and therefore marketable?

If that was the case, Delia felt sure she would be spared.

LISA: It'll have to do with talent.

Delia's stomach turned and she wanted to cry.

LISA: Whoever underperforms this year isn't going to be around for next year. That should light a fire under some of you who've gotten a bit complacent.
ALEX: Some of us?
LISA: I'm being kind.
ELLIOT: You could have fooled me.
QUENTON: Somebody just needs some attention in a certain area.
LISA: If you're implying that I need sex, Quenton, then you should come out and say it instead of being a catty bitchy queen about it. That's probably the reason why you can't play straight men.
QUENTON: Beg your pardon?
LISA: Your Man for All Seasons was a little heavy on the spring, and that's all I'll say about that.
VICTORIA: We did A Man for All Seasons?
DAPHNE: Yes, Victoria, you were in it.
VICTORIA: Was I? Fancy that.

Lisa cleared her throat.

LISA: I'm going to go into my office and relax for a few minutes, then we'll start rehearsal. Use that time to reflect on how you're all not going to suck this year. See you in five.

She left the room.

ALEX: What are the chances of two Artistic Directors dying in less than a year?
HELEN: If my stepdaughter keeps this up, I'd say pretty good.

Everyone agreed.

What Happened Last Season

2008-08-26T18:26:00.000-07:00

It was the opening night of the final show of the season at Potter's Theater in Rome, New Hampshire.

After the Fall

Daphne and Elliot, two of the theater's resident actors, were bickering. This was not unusual since they had been married for twenty years, and unhappy for eighteen of them.

DAPHNE: He doesn't know what he's doing.
ELLIOT: Quiet, darling.
DAPHNE: The man is insane. He's closing the season with Miller. You don't close with Miller, especially not bad Miller.
ELLIOT: Some call it underrated.
DAPHNE: Most will call it a trainwreck, and mostly the critics. Look at Phillip. He looks like he's going to throw his notebook into the aisle and head for the nearest open bar.

Daphne and her husband Elliot, who had been working at Potter's Theater since the last seventies, both turned their heads to Phillip Van Terriman, the theater critic for Rome, New Hampshire's local newspaper, The Rome Gazette.

ELLIOT: It won't matter if he'll hate it.
DAPHNE: Why?
ELLIOT: He hates everything.
DAPHNE: He still shouldn't try to provoke him with bad Miller.

The 'he' Daphne was referring to was Darren Tyler, the Artistic Director of Potter's Theater.

Darren was upstairs talking with Trevor Ramsey.

DARREN: You're out of your fucking mind.

Talking might not be a strong enough word.

TREVOR: Darren, I think it would be great. A great publicity move.
DARREN: Who needs publicity? Me? I don't need publicity. I'm running one of the oldest and most respected theaters in the country. You're the one running that little shitshack two blocks down, Trevor.

Darren had been the Artistic Director of Potter's Theater since the early 90's and over time had grown into a bit of a--

TREVOR: You're a dried up old gasbag, you know that?

Yeah, that. A bit of a that.

DARREN: What I am is sitting in the big chair, little boy. That's all I need to be.
TREVOR: This isn't about the theater. This is about me and Lisa.
DARREN: You just might be right.
TREVOR: Tell me, Darren. Are you mad that I divorced your daughter or that she wanted to act in my productions more than she wanted to act in yours?
DARREN: Get the fuck out of my office, you little fag.
TREVOR: Fag, huh? Would that make me the pot or the kettle?
DARREN: Beat it, Trevor.
TREVOR: Is that what this is about? We can do a joint production as long as I let you blow me?
DARREN: I said get out.
TREVOR: Or the other way around?
DARREN: GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!

Trevor laughed, and left the office.

But he did get in some parting words.

TREVOR: Congratulations, by the way. I'm sure After the Fall is going to be just as good as your other trumped up vanity projects. Bravo.

Twenty minutes later, the curtain would be going up.

Ten minutes before that, Darren would be dead.

RITCHIE: I can't believe I let you drag me to this.
KEVIN: You should grow an appreciation for other types of theater, Ritchie.
RITCHIE: I love anything that's under ninety minutes and features hot gay chorus boys singing.

Ritchie was in Rome, New Hampshire on the national tour of Fame.

Or at least, he had been.

KEVIN: Considering how well musical theater's worked out for you--
RITCHIE: Quitting one tour does not--
KEVIN: Quitting?
RITCHIE: Fine! Being kicked off of--

For debauchery, nonetheless.

RITCHIE: Like I started the fucking orgy on my own. That choreographer should have gotten the boot with me.
KEVIN: I wasn't aware you could get kicked off a tour for inciting an orgy.
RITCHIE: You do when the tour manager's visiting boyfriend decides to join in.
KEVIN: You always did mess with the wrong people.
RITCHIE: Yeah, this time I just did it literally.

Kevin had just moved to Rome, and was hoping to get a production off the ground.

RITCHIE: Don't produce anything here. These people are yokels. The only show they'll come to see would have to have dancing leprechauns in it.
KEVIN: So I'll do Finian's Rainbow. It's not like I'm a theater snob. I just want to create my own opportunities.
RITCHIE: Then go into prostitution.
KEVIN: I'm an actor. That's close enough.
RITCHIE: I might be spending some time here for awhile until I can figure out what to do with myself.
KEVIN: I hear this theater is looking for a new resident actor.
RITCHIE: Now how do you know that?
KEVIN: Because I heard one of the resident actors get fired in the lobby ten minutes ago.

This was true.

Darren had fired Nicholas Bennington, a resident actor with the Potter's Theater since late 2000, in front of nearly every important theater figure in Rome.

The reason?

NICHOLAS: Is it because I won't shack up with you anymore, Darren?

Yes, that was the reason.

DARREN: Don't embarrass yourself, Nicholas.
NICHOLAS: Oh please. It's opening night. The only one who's going to be embarrassed in two hours is you!

Darren was not going to be embarrassed. He was going to be murdered.

DARREN: You show up drunk every other night. I can't have you putting my theater in jeopardy.
NICHOLAS: Your theater? YOUR theater? This theater has been around for a hundred years, and you call it your theater?
DARREN: Whose name is on the door, Nick? Huh?
NICHOLAS: That's right. As Head Ego. How far up your own ass did you have to stick your head to get that position, Darren?
DARREN: Go home. Take a shower. Sober up. Then maybe I'll write you a nice letter of recommendation.

Darren should have said all this to Nicholas in private, but part of him liked humiliating actors. He didn't mind people knowing that he and Nicholas had been lovers, that was no big secret. But now he was bored and he wanted to go up to his office, take some pills, and fall asleep until he could come downstairs and drink at the big opening night party.

Nicholas had other plans.

He stood up on a chair in the lobby and yelled at the top of his lungs--

NICHOLAS: Attention, everyone!

Everyone turned to look at him.

NICHOLAS: I would like to announce that I am leaving Potter's Theater--

Nobody gasped. They'd all just heard the argument even though they were pretending to discuss how much they loved Arthur Miller.

NICHOLAS: --And starting my own theater. The Bennington Theater, which I predict will overtake this crusty old palace in only one year!

Now that got a gasp. It was like walking into a church and throwing a Richard Dawkins' book onto the altar.

Darren met Nicholas' eyes and smiled. Now he'd really be able to let him have it.

DARREN: I'll donate a bottle of wine to Nicholas' new theater. I just hope he has a shelf to put it on considering the place he's going to open will probably be run out of a toolshed or a fast food restaurant.

That got some laughter.

Nicholas, fuming, stepped down off his chair and left the theater, vowing revenge.

Ten minutes later, people were still talking about what they had seen.

LILY: I wonder if he would consider working with me.
ALEX: Who?
LILY: Nick Bennington. It would be such a coup.

Lily had just started a new theater of her own, dedicated to producing works for social change. Artistic pieces that really stood for something.

Of course, she was broke and nobody was interested in anything she was doing.

LILY: Maybe he could be the lead in the new Gorky play we're--
ALEX: Dear Christ, Lily, will you listen to yourself?

Alex was Lily's mentor. She had just graduated from the local university with a degree in directing, and Alex had been her teacher and lover. He had been a resident actor at Potter's Theater since the mid-eighties and though he had grown to loathe the place, the possibility of working anywhere else in Rome was enough to make him kiss the sawdust on the stage.

LILY: What's wrong?
ALEX: Gorky? Who wants to do Gorky? Hell, who wants to see Gorky?
LILY: A new adaptation by Maxwell Schmell.
ALEX: Who the fuck is Maxwell Schmell? A Dr. Seuss character?
LILY: He's actually this brilliant--
ALEX: Lily, you need to do shows with a little flash. A little gusto.
LILY: Maybe you could suggest something?

And by 'suggest' she meant 'direct.'

ALEX: I'm not directing anything for you. I'm getting older. I don't need the stress.
LILY: Please, Alex. Anything would be terrific.
ALEX: Darren would never allow it.
LILY: Why not?
ALEX: Because he's an old fucking queen and he likes his playthings to stay in his toybox and nobody else's, that's why.
LILY: You consider yourself a plaything?
ALEX: I consider myself employed, and I want to keep it that way. Do A Doll's House, don't do anything fucked up with it, and do as many school matinees as you can to rack up some extra cash. That should get you on your way.

Hmm, Lily thought, that's actually not such a bad idea.

Just then, the lights dimmed. The announcements regarding cell phones and exits were made.

The director was killed.

And the show began.

Welcome to Rome, New Hampshire

2008-08-26T15:39:00.001-07:00

A theatrical hotspot, Rome has many cultural attractions...

RITCHIE: When in Rome, kill yourself.

There's the nationally recognized 100-year-old Potter's Theater where the Artistic Director has just been murdered.

OLIVER: Somebody killed Darren.
DELIA: Was it a subscriber?

It's recently acquired a new Artistic Director--

LISA: I'm happy to take over. My father was very proud of this place.
REGINALD: Why? It turned him into an alcoholic, a homosexual, and a raging bitch.
LISA: No, that was my stepmother.

--Whose ex-husband just happens to run the competition.

TREVOR: It's fine, Lisa. You do fluff and puff, and I do art.
LISA: Fluff and puff? Were those the names of the underage girls you cheated on me with?
TREVOR: You're just bitter because I produce quality.
LISA: Question, does anybody go to the plays you produce besides you?

The Minx Theater, run by Trevor, is at the forefront of the rebellious artist crowd in Rome.

TREVOR: I'm still not sure whether or not she should kill the baby onstage and then sing an aria, or do the aria while killing the baby.

Across town, a defect from Potter's Theater, Nicholas Bennington, runs the newly formed Bennington Theater Group.

NICHOLAS: We're going to do something no theater in this town has ever done.
ETHAN: Make money while retaining our artistic integrity?

Nicholas just happens to be sleeping with Potter's Theater's newest resident actor.

RITCHIE: If Lisa finds out we slept together--
NICHOLAS: She'll fire you?
RITCHIE: Actually, I was thinking she'd ask me to spy on you and then give me a raise.

And that well-known actor just happens to be best friends with a lesser-known actor named--

LISA: Kevin Broccoli?
TREVOR: Kevin Broccoli?
NICHOLAS: Who the hell is Kevin Broccoli?

--Whose about to shake things up.

KEVIN: I'm going to get a play done in this town if it kills me.
RITCHIE: Careful, it killed Darren Tyler.

And if that wasn't enough, there are college theater students...

PENNY: We're going to perform the show and then kill ourselves.
WES: Really?
PENNY: Well, metaphorically speaking.

...Musicians...

TREVOR: You want to do a musical?
EMMA: Yes.
TREVOR: About cannibals?
EMMA: I know it's a hard sell.

...And children...

LISA: Kyle, are you excited to be starring as Billy in our show?
KYLE: All I want to know is how much I'm getting paid to say this crap?
LISA: I should have cast a monkey.

One thing's for sure.

ALEX: What's the story about?

This

LISA: It's about love.

Can't

TREVOR: Sex.

NICHOLAS: Murder.

Theater

PENNY: Betrayal, scandal, ponies, treadmills, and fire-eating dragons!
QUENTON: Can somebody please blacklist her?

www.thiscantbetheater.blogspot.com

KEVIN: Curtain up.

This Fall