A Good Night's Sleep

A Good Night’s Sleep 

I was excited to begin the experiment today, although last night I was feeling incredibly lonely. I’m not sure why I was feeling so lonely. I have a hard time identifying why I often feel so alone. I have just come to terms with the fact that I have felt alone since I was about seven years old...even if I’m in the middle of a crowd of people--especially if I’m in the midst of a group of people. I was grateful to have a double late night chat via IM on Facebook with two of my favorite Aries men, Mike Stanley and Patrick McCray. I was grateful because both these men have such a profound influence on me as a creative being. They both push me and challenge me in ways that have changed my art into something I can be proud of. These men have helped me achieve a place where being called an artist no longer feels like a lie. 

Last night Patrick was finally able to look at my blogs and gave his blessing on the project. I was concerned--though I should not have been--because I feared he would be offended I took this concept from him. Though it is a different television series, and my experiment is structured differently, I still worried he might feel I violated his concept. He did not feel that way. My true inner voice knew he’d be fine, but my experience in life as an artist has shown me that many artists have such fear of losing a good idea. Artists who live in fear do not like to share and can become psychotic if they feel they have been creatively violated in any manner. Patrick is not that kind of artist. This is why I adore him. He is not self-aggrandizing, and he is confident in what he knows while still understanding that he doesn’t know it all, and he seeks support and inspiration from others. Mike Stanley is exactly the same way. They “get it” as creators. They have seen how their art is crafted and they are experienced in their art. They know their craft. They have been through the best and the worst their creative careers have to offer, and through that have still managed to genuinely care about their art over time. That, in my opinion, is an incredibly rare thing. After IMing them both I felt better about beginning this today. 

It’s interesting, beginning to watch these episodes having seen them before. I tried to watch the episodes with new eyes and an ulterior motive. Ironically, though, I felt the exact same way about many of the technical aspects of the series as I did the first time I watched the show seven years ago. Frances Conroy rules the pilot. Her acting is absolutely outstanding. The emotionally tough sequences in the pilot belong to her and she pulls them off with such finesse and honesty. She has my favorite moment of dialogue in the pilot. 

“There’s been an accident. The new hearse is totaled. Your father is dead. Your father is dead, and my pot roast is ruined.”

What makes this line so fantastic, in my opinion, is how the writing and her delivery of it play with opposites. Patrick really drove the idea of playing opposites into my brain during rehearsals for Flaming Guns of the Purple Sage--a play he directed me in last year. But I don’t think I truly got the concept of this as an actor until this year, when he again directed me in the one-act Laundry and Bourbon. I realized I have always loved playing with opposites in my writing.  I believe playing with opposites is what keeps an audience interested in a story. Predictability is a plot killer and will give a limp dick to any reader or audience who truly craves a believable and involved story. I see so many directors, writers, and actors who think that they “get” what sad or happy or angry looks like, and then hold onto to that idea of an emotion as a story with some sort of death grip. That is a huge misconception. They should not focus on the emotion. Put focus on the characters and how they respond--not what they feel. Characters don’t know what they are feeling in the moment. When a writer or actor goes about being in the art in that way--to express an emotion--it’s always heavy-handed in intention, and the intentions never ring true. They never will ring true, because they will never be genuine or honest. 

The second episode, The Will, supplied me with a line that sums up my entire being and also this experiment for me. It is the line that made me realize I am Brenda. The line is the central thesis of the show and, ironically, my spiritual belief system. 

“We're all wounded. We carry our wounds around with us throughout life and eventually they kill us. Things happen that leave a mark in space, in time... in us.”

I believe this. This is the basis of my intuition--an intuition I believe we all have. All that intuition amounts to is truly looking at people. It is watching how they live their lives. I try to watch people. I watch how they move. I can tell so much just by how a person carries herself in space. The way he reacts to sunlight. The way people smile and what makes them smile. All of these things and more are part of something much bigger, but aid in the definition of the grand phenomena which are our individual selves. 

Before I begin to sound too Eckhart Tolle--and please shoot me if I ever become that big of a blowhard con artist--I feel I should give the readers who know nothing about the show a basic breakdown. Here’s one from Wikipedia (what is humorous is that I would beat my writing students about the head and neck with a Harbrace Handbook if they cited Wikipedia, but in this case I like the description of the show and this saves me so much time): 

“The show stars Peter Krause as Nathaniel Samuel ‘Nate’ Fisher, Jr., whose funeral director father (Richard Jenkins) dies and bequeaths to him and his brother David (Michael C. Hall) co-ownership of the family funeral business. The Fisher clan also includes widow Ruth (Frances Conroy) and daughter Claire (Lauren Ambrose). Other regulars include mortician and family friend Federico Diaz (Freddy Rodriguez), Nate's on-again/off-again girlfriend Brenda Chenowith (Rachel Griffiths), and David's long-term boyfriend Keith Charles (Mathew St. Patrick).

A recurring plot device consists of a character having an imaginary conversation with the deceased; for example, Nate, David, and Federico sometimes "converse" with the person who died at the beginning of the episode, while they are being embalmed or planning or during the funeral. Sometimes, the conversation is with other recurring deceased characters, most notably Nathaniel Fisher, Sr.

Alan Ball, the show's creator, avers that this represents the living character's internal dialogue by exposing it as an external conversation.”

I should add that I loved the fake commercials that were in the pilot episode. Though I understand why Alan Ball cut them from the rest of the series, I was sad to see them go. I especially loved the Franklin Earth Dispenser commercial which featured actors dressed in Old Navy khakis and dancing in unison to KC and the Sunshine Band’s “Shake Your Booty” while the voiceover announces how the shaker puts the fun back in funeral. I noticed the concept of this commercial was so ridiculous that it took me a second to laugh at it. I think that is why the show did so well. In our culture there is very little exploration of the marketing of death. And, like everything else, death does have a marketable service industry, which must be a tad ridiculous.  

The final of the three episodes for today (The Foot) is an episode that was never one of my favorites. It was a huge character-development and relationship-establishment episode. I will say that if you skip it, you are screwed and confused for the rest of the first season. I really dislike the big mislead with Claire’s character, who comes off as queen teen psycho. In fact, I noticed all of the principal female roles come off as psychotic in the first three episodes. I may need to do some research on the writing team and see what happened to help define these women in a less whacked-out way later in the season. 

Well, I’m late getting this written and on the page. It was a long day of creative networking and work. I’m appropriately and happily ready for sleep. Oh, and in case you were wondering why I titled this blog entry “A Good Night’s Sleep,” I will explain before I  retire to my comfy bed. The pilot episode concludes with the ghost of Nathaniel Sr. who is sitting on a bench with an ad for an attorney with the word “Accident?” painted across it. He is waiting to be carried off to his eternal slumber on a bus (just like the one that totaled his hearse and him too) with a billboard on the side that features eyes under a sleep mask and text that reads “A Good Night’s Sleep...”  Nate leans against a nearby wall where someone has tagged a “No Loitering” sign. Nathaniel gets on the bus and, as he sits, he notices his son and waves goodbye to him. Nate is motionless in front of the “No Loitering” sign as he watches the bus pull away. People on the street walk past him. He exchanges glances with these people as they pass him. These strangers are part of this visual cue that allows the audience to see Nate as the central character who’s been letting life pass him by. It is literally Nate’s wake-up call to really start living because death is unavoidable. This scene is such a great way to end the pilot episode. 

My own pillow is calling me and the sleeping pug in my bed needs her cuddling partner. Tomorrow is another day. Thank you for reading my blog. Oh, and please leave comments. 

Click this link to see Frances Conroy's amazing acting.