History of The Talented Talent Bros -- Chapter IX

One of the disadvantages of producing or directing a play is that you really miss out on some degree of the camaraderie that develops within the group. Because your attentions are directed elsewhere you miss all the off-stage conversations and relationship building. Over the years I’ve experienced this time and time again. For example, there was one production that I produced and directed in the early-90s where two members of the cast actually got engaged … I hadn’t a clue about it until months after the run of the show. I can attribute some of this to my simple lack of awareness but it was my position within the production that really led to it.

Although the Weasel Erotica crew was unique in that we genuinely enjoyed spending social time with one another, both Mel and I have commented on how we missed out to some degree or another. Mel was further separated during the run by the fact that she was running the light board and thus didn’t have the backstage experience the rest of us enjoyed. The girls of the show seemed to all bond instantly. In fact, I would joke that they would get together to gossip about how cute Tony was, how quiet Matt was and how retarded I was. I bet some similar conversation actually did take place.

When you are the guy that is financing the show that separation is expanded somewhat. There are some things that you don’t want the cast to be aware of so that they are never concerned about the tightrope that is being walked. You certainly wouldn’t want them to fully realize just what kind of financial peril the entire production is constantly in. Or the financial peril that you are personally in. I spent in excess of $14K on Weasel Erotica out of my own back pocket. I recouped less than 10% of that. I sacrificed a number of things just so that my little play would be seen by an audience … not the least of which was eating.

I think there is something fundamentally wrong with me. Why would I risk so much, put so much in jeopardy, just so that a handful of people will see the fruition of an insane little dream of mine? My only response would be that it is simply an addiction and that perhaps I need some form of rehab. I came to this conclusion early on in the Weasel rehearsal process when I was hospitalized for a couple of days. I was sacrificing my health to feed my addiction. I think I was aware of this when I wrote in this very blog about the stress involved in getting this show up.

Not that I would learn my lesson.

Regardless of my physical and financial struggles, the months leading up to Weasel Erotica were glorious. Members of the cast commented on how ego-less we were and how refreshing it was to work on a show where the primary goal was to simply just have fun. And the process certainly was fun. Sometimes that fun was alcohol-fueled, post-rehearsal silliness. My admiration for and appreciation of this little group was significant and was something that I would mention frequently. I like to think that the majority of the people involved felt likewise.

The actors were given the freedom to ham it up and be silly and everybody certainly took advantage of the opportunity. In nearly twenty years of doing this I had never worked in so positive an environment. Much of the credit for this must go to Mel, who everybody seemed to respect and enjoy. The remainder of the credit needs to go to a silly script that allowed for Tony to do a striptease with the weasels and the zoo girls, let Rebecca pull random things from her cleavage, let Jeremy play a gay monster flirting with Tony, let Amy react to a mass amount of insanity that surrounded her and let Anne strut and pose.

I spent what little free time I had trying to promote the show and getting the million of little errands that have to be run taken care of. Likewise, I’m sure that Melissa’s personal life was put on hold as she dove in and busted her butt to help make sure everything would be ready for our opening. We both worked long and hard through two months of rehearsals.

August was fast approaching and The Talented Talent Brothers would make a triumphant return to the NYC stage. I was determined to see this through … everything else be damned … and I had my “family” standing by my side.

History of The Talented Talent Bros -- Chapter VIII

Yes, I realize that in terms of timeline we are well into a period where I was actually posting in this blog with some regularity. However, since this little soul-searching historical document is being told with more of an eye towards retrospect, I am sure that a number of things will sound a little different this time around. I will however make reference to and even quote from previous entries. It’s not like anybody ever read them in the first place. In fact, it’s not like anybody is ever going to read this either.

Casting About

Auditions for Weasel Erotica were held in the middle of May 2006 after having received over one thousand submissions. Amazing! To this day I am surprised at the number of people who submitted for our silly little project. I am even more surprised to find that just over 100 of those submissions came from males. I genuinely feel sympathy for the young-ish actresses in NYC because the competition is incredible.

Mel and I spent an untold number of hours sifting through the submissions and weeding out the folks we knew we wouldn’t be interested in seeing. To be honest, Mel did most of the work. All I really did was weed out the obvious wackos. During Abnormal Stew, JB and I had purposely called in those wackos, but we didn’t have the time or the interest in going through that ordeal again.

Before we had even begun to cast the show I noted the difference and improvement this project would have over Stew was Mel’s participation. In the months that had followed Stew I found that I had leaned on Melissa both personally and emotionally … now in May of 2006 I realized that I would be leaning on her professionally as well. Auditions would be held on one day in two three-hour sessions. Mel and I would obviously be there for both, Matt and Tony would assist for one session each.

I wrote the following in this blog a few days after the audition session:

"Auditions are nerve-wracking for actors. I hate 'em. We saw a handful of folks who were nervous auditioning for us. In the back of my head I'm thinking, "Calm down. It's not like we're anything special." Then again, to them, we might be.

Mel's in the process of getting the show cast and, judging by the talent we saw the other day, I think we're gonna be in pretty good shape. I'm very excited to get back to work with Mo, Mel and "the real king" Tony King. There's a touch of the jitters knowing that we're venturing into the great unknown again, but I'm feeling confident that we're gonna be in great shape and that we'll have a ton of fun.

A big word of thanks to everybody that came out. It was the first audition session I had been to in ages where we didn't have one single wacko. That's probably because Mel was doing the casting and not me. I always wind up calling in at least one severely disturbed person ... Mel just brought in talent."

Obvious Choices

There were three obvious choices during the audition process. They were Anne McDaniels, Jennifer Sandella and Rebecca Sponseller.

We needed a supermodel of a sexy seductress to play Flo (months before, I had actually envisioned Mel playing the role herself) and Anne McDaniels fit the bill perfectly. Mel and I were also gratified, and even taken a little aback, by how much we genuinely enjoyed her. An ex-NFL cheerleader with a resume chock full of film, television and modeling credits initially seemed like a bad call to me. Before meeting her I admit to a prejudice … I assumed she would either be a diva to work with or simply wouldn’t bother to accept a role in our non-paying, not-gonna-do-much-for-your-career, low-budget production. I could not have been more wrong … there could not be a nicer, more professional, more thoroughly enjoyable, intelligent actress to join our little group. The fact that she’s drop-dead gorgeous doesn’t hurt either. Regardless, I respected and admired her for her talents and tenacity.

Jennifer Sandella was pretty much instantly cast too … but for very different reasons. Don’t get me wrong, Jennifer is also an extremely attractive actress, but she had a special skill that won us over. She can speak gibberish. Apparently she is fluent. She performed her monologue, spoke a little gibberish and we knew we had to have her in our show. We hadn’t a clue where to put her yet, but we knew we had to have her.

After Rebecca Sponseller’s audition we were completely convinced that she was bat-sh*t crazy. A trained and gifted opera singer, she sang her audition. Let me just point out that, at least up until this point, our show was not a musical by any means. She was rattled, out of breath and told us that she had just come from a musical theatre audition and asked, whether out of lack-of-preparation or nerves, if she could just sing her audition. It was hysterical and as she left Mel and I agreed that perhaps a musical number in Weasel Erotica wouldn’t be a bad idea. Mel would slightly second guess herself later in the week and meet with Rebecca during lunch one day to make sure she could even read. She could and she was cast.

Two other lovely young ladies were cast, but after a bit more deliberation. Kimi Winkler was (and is) a beautiful bundle of energy that we were both drawn to, but couldn’t figure out exactly what to do with. I briefly considered what it would be like to have her as Tony’s love interest if for no other reason than my certainty that she would drive Tony crazy. Once we decided to pair her up with Jennifer as the two zoo girls we knew we had something a little magical … the toned bundle of electricity and the girl that spoke gibberish … it just had to work.

Mel wanted Amy Kersten to play Alison, who is more or less the lead role in the show. I was less certain … I actually thought Amy was too intelligent (like that should be a knock on an actress) and wouldn’t convey a sense of damsel in distress. Mel thought otherwise … and I had learned to trust Mel’s instincts. Turns out that by August Mel would be proven to be absolutely right.

But What About Another Guy?

We still had to cast our villain, Gregory Grimm, and although we auditioned a number of male actors we weren’t really impressed with any of them. Mel and I would discuss possible solutions over the course of the next several days … we could hold another audition, we could ask around, we could discuss actors we had worked with. By the end of the week, I was at a loss. That’s when Mel recommended a fellow she had been working with named Jeremy Sykes.

She reminded me that I had once met Jeremy at the bar Tony had been working at but I hadn’t realized that he was an actor. To be honest, all I really remembered about him was that he had this hot girlfriend who was some kind of scientist or something and was from Canada. Once again I put my faith in Melissa. This show might be mine, but the production would be hers.

We briefly even had an actor to play Larry, the Monster-From-Under-Your-Bed but after he was unable to make the first rehearsal and once we realized that he would have some scheduling conflicts, Mel decided that we would just have Jeremy double up and play both Larry and Grimm.

New Beginnings Always Bring New Excitement

Rehearsals began and I was positively brimming with excitement. We had a great cast, I had a new partner in Melissa who was taking charge and taking responsibility, my health was good (that wouldn’t last for long, but we’ll get to that soon) and the day job wasn’t proving to be as bad nor as time consuming as it had been earlier in the year. After our second rehearsal, I wrote the following:

"Well, rehearsals have just begun on Weasel Erotica and I already have two observations. One, Mel did one heck of a job casting this show. I mean she was on the money. She found a nice group that blends well with Tony, Mo and I and brings some unique energy to the show. Yeah, big talk two rehearsals in, but it bodes well for the future. Two, this script of mine might actually work. Everybody had doubts here and there, but it's starting to become obvious that we have a nice little shell to hang Talent Bros insanity on."

My confidence was at a high point as I begun to be a promotional machine. Unlike Stew, I wouldn’t neglect to promote The Talented Talent Brothers this time around. Just six months after almost hanging it up and tossing in the towel on this idea, things had turned around. A trip to Vegas and popping my cherry as a stand-up comedian had all contributed to my new-found energy and excitement.

However, maintaining that energy would be another challenge …

History of The Talented Talent Bros -- Chapter VII

Prologue

The four years I spent living in Greensboro, NC in the late '90s were easily among the happiest of my life. Sure, they were filled with the day-to-day struggles that all of our lives are filled with, but they were chock full of happy times. My so-called “acting career” was not the top priority, although I did do a number of plays and television episodes. All in all, it was just a great time.

Among the few negatives from this period were the frequent trips back to Texas. My son lived in Corpus Christi, my parents in Baytown and my in-laws in Lubbock. Many was the time that Tammi and I jumped in the old Mitsubishi and drove from North Carolina to Texas – 24 to 30 hours of straight driving, depending on where we were going and who we were going to visit. To keep awake and prevent boredom, we would play a number of traveling games. One of my favorites was a word game where one of us would say a word and the other had to think of the most inappropriate word to match it. A highly amusing game … give it a try on your next long drive. It’s even better when you are trying not to go stir-crazy.

Early one morning while speeding through Louisiana, Tammi and I were playing this game. We had already been on the road for over 20 hours and were well beyond being “simple minded.” Tammi thought of a word and came up with “weasel.” I immediately responded “erotica.” We laughed uncontrollably. In fact, my eyes watered up and I could barely see the interstate.

Weasel Erotica. May not sound funny to you now … but hop in the car for twenty hours and you just might be amused by it. Weasel Erotica. I would have to remember that.

Now Back To Our Story

Somewhere over the course of the months that followed the closing of Abnormal Stew I had made up my mind that The Talented Talent Brothers were not over. Not yet. I still hung my career hopes on this idea. All I needed to make it work was a little consistency within the group, some like-minded individuals and a better, more noteworthy vehicle. I was knee deep in writing the latter. I had high hopes for the former.

If we were going to be something of a modern day version of the Marx Brothers, then we needed a modern day Marx Brother story. So I began to outline a story that would borrow heavily from A Day at the Races. The plot would be almost non-existent – just something to hang a little Talent Brother insanity on – and would feature a young couple in peril who are assisted by an assorted band of crazies. And we would have puppets. I like puppets.

This is where the term “weasel erotica” provided inspiration and the title of our next play. There probably are very few writers who come up with a title first, but then again I’ve never really claimed to be much of a writer. Weasels might make for interesting puppets. And if we’re going to have weasels, where are the weasels going to come from – where do they live? Answer: a zoo. Now we just had to threaten the weasels and the zoo and we could be off and running.

The play would center around this zoo … owned by the lovely Alison Standish (named for the Standish Sanitarium in A Day at the Races). If I was going to create a Maureen O’Sullivan character, then I would obviously also need an Allan Jones-type to be her boyfriend. My alter-ego from Abnormal Stew, Professor Wagstaff (obviously named for Groucho’s character in Horsefeathers) would return as a weasel expert hired to train the weasels and save the zoo from financial ruin. You can’t have a Groucho-type character without a Margaret Dumont, the wealthy dowager, so I created the insane Ms. Rittenrotten (as opposed to Rittenhouse - this time the reference dates back to Animal Crackers) who would have the money necessary to save the day.

See, this thing practically writes itself.

Many hours were spent tweaking and revising this script. Bits and pieces from Stew would reappear. The Monster-That-Lives-Under-Your-Bed would make an appearance. Evil would come in the form of a melodramatic Snidley Whiplash character named Mr. Grimm. Naturally, Grimm would need a sexy cohort to seduce Wagstaff … so Flo was added to the mix. A Chico/swindler-with-a-heart-of-gold character would be perfect for Matt, so he was included. Finally, in loving tribute, we would need two “zoo girls” to run the zoo and manage the weasels.

The play was starting to take shape. Those that are familiar with my “writing style” know that I write in bits and pieces on everything from yellow legal pads to scratches of paper and then begin to assimilate the pieces. By spring, Act I was together and Act II was well on its way.

Calling All Characters

The new team was assembled … myself, Matt and Mel. Added to the mix now was Tony King (another veteran of Hamlet and LLL who had run lights a time or two for Stew) who is a talented and fun leading man type. Tony presented the problem of having the last name King. We already had a "King Talent" and it certainly would seem silly to have a "Tony King Talent" and "Tony Talent" just seemed like a waste of a perfectly good and marketable name. A new backstory would have to be developed for Tony.

The four of us met one Saturday afternoon on the back patio at Rudy’s on 9th Avenue to drink a pitcher or two of beer, eat a little bar-b-q and give Act I a good read. I was pleased to find that the script had some life to it. I was even more pleased later that week when I made contact with The Looking Glass Theatre and booked the show. Mel was recruited to direct the show (Stew hadn’t really had a director, per se) and Tony, Matt and I would play the male “hero” characters.

Less than a year after Abnormal Stew had opened, The Talented Talent Brothers would return to the New York stage in Weasel Erotica. I was going to give this ridiculous idea one more chance. But first, we had to survive a summer filled with casting and rehearsals and get this thing ready to roll. A new adventure was about to begin.

History of The Talented Talent Bros -- Chapter VI

The months that followed the closing of Abnormal Stew were productive and rejuvenated me to a great degree. My health was finally on something of an upswing and although that winter marked my first holiday season alone, I was able to distract myself with other projects and relationships. I was finding my way in this weird little world and this time I was doing it by myself.

First Distraction: Swimming with The Whales

In December I accepted a leading role in a production called The Whales written by M. Stefan Strozier and being produced by his production company. How I came across this opportunity is a testament to the old saying, “you never know what you’re getting into.” I had received an email casting notice looking for two actors for a show already deep in rehearsals. Having produced more than my fair share of plays before, I knew exactly what this had meant … a couple of people had dropped out of the cast.

I was immediately interested because the show would run for four weeks in January and, with an obvious break for the Christmas holiday, I knew the time commitment would be minimal … there just wasn’t much time left to rehearse. The audition notice indicated that the two roles they were looking to fill were a) a homeless schizophrenic playwright and b) a Sopranos mob-type. Well, I sure couldn’t fill the latter, but the former sounded fun. The casting notice didn’t indicate the size of the roles, but I just assumed they were both small supporting roles.

I also chuckled to myself to find that the show would be staged at Where Eagles Dare Theatre … the same stage I had just spent the past several months on.

I arrived at that first rehearsal to find a sizable cast and was given a script, just a scene really, that I would read a little later. I had been in this situation before … I was going to audition as part of the rehearsal … I would really have to screw up not to get the role. I read over this bizarre little scene where Harry (my character) primarily spouted a bunch of nonsense in a sanitarium. Looked like fun.

Later in the rehearsal I did the scene … just hammed it up a bit. I was cast on the spot and given the full script. Imagine my surprise when I got home, read it and found that outside of an opening prologue of sorts, I was in every scene in the play. In fact, the play centered on my character.

I felt bad. Probably a little self-imposed tension that was unwarranted. But I had wondered why the director hadn’t just “promoted” somebody with a smaller role in the cast and then just filled in his part. That is certainly how I had handled similar circumstances in the past. I wondered if any of my cast mates, and there were quite a few, were angry or jealous. In retrospect, I don’t think so. But at the time, it was a real concern … I felt that I may have usurped somebody else’s role.

Funny People Are Fun

Immediately I was attracted to my energetic, vastly talented and breathtaking “love interest” in the play, Holly Vanasse. She was a ball of fire … a sarcastic and sardonic wit with a flair for mockery. She had a glorious lack of pretense which I greatly admired … in fact, I still greatly admire it. The most cutting and hilarious things would flow effortlessly from her lips. Only a few years my junior and with a love of all things Duran Duran (including The Power Station) she was exhilarating to spend time with.

The stresses of my personal life over the previous year and the tensions that surrounded Abnormal Stew had drained me and made me question whether pursuing acting and/or comedy to any degree was worth the effort. I was buried under a mountain of self-doubt that Holly, with the force of the hurricane that is her personality, blew away. A strong personality indeed. I was taken aback by how grateful I was (and am) to her. To this day I doubt that she has any comprehension of just how much she has meant to me and I am horribly saddened that she is not currently a regular part of my life.

Additionally, however, many others in the cast were also inspirational. Outgoing and occasionally outrageous, Brenna McGuire and her love of cupcakes became something that I looked forward to everyday. Denise Collins was a jingly jangly whirlwind herself and the first person in the show I established a rapport with. Jordan and Grant Peters were talented brothers I respected and Ben Bailey, perhaps the most dedicated actor I have ever met, was a constant source of amusement. This group of people, for the most part, could just disregard any allegiance to the script, toss logic aside and have fun with each evening’s performance. And if that didn't work ... well you could always drool on the stage.

And at the time, that was good enough for me.

Second Distration: Yelling at Jesus Again

Shortly after The Whales closed I was called by the director of The Passion Play at the Park Performing Arts Center in Union City, NJ. In 2003 I had played Caiaphas in the show and went on as Pontius Pilate in an unrehearsed emergency for one performance. The large theatre was only ten blocks from my house, so working on the show was convenient. She asked if I would come back and do a little Caiaphas/Pilate doubling for her and, since the show would open soon and I wouldn’t have to worry much about a long rehearsal process, I agreed.

I wasn’t even looking for acting work and I would go from Stew to The Whales to The Passion Play with hardly a break in between. Not my style, but it certainly was nice to be wanted and appreciated as a performer. A screening of a film I starred in, The Interrogation, weeks later capped a busy period of performance. It was enough for me to look back over the previous twelve months (the film, title role in Hamlet, directing Love’s Labors Lost, Abnormal Stew, The Whales and The Passion Play) and see how my confidence had soared, faded and then began to rise again.

With my confidence on the upswing, I had been doing quite a bit of writing. Initially my focus had been on my one-man show that had been stirring around in my mind for a few years, but I kept coming back to The Talented Talent Brothers and this silly little idea I had … a wafer-thin plot based loosely on The Marx Brothers’ A Day at the Races, a couple of puppets, gags that had worked in Stew … and a title that had almost caused a car wreck several years before.

History of The Talented Talent Bros -- Chapter V

The Talented Talent Brothers were on life support. Abnormal Stew wouldn’t go out with a bang but with a whimper. I was about ready to call it a day … but I had committed to performances for a festival at Where Eagles Dare and I’m too stubborn for my own good. Laz was getting ready to head to California, Giselle was in Mexico, Jillyn was working at my office and doing her level best to ignore me and Andy was … well, from what I could tell, getting ready to shack up with Jillyn. I needed to recruit some folks and fast.

There was no thought needed in choosing the first person to ask. Melissa McCulloch had appeared with me in Hamlet and played in my production of Love’s Labors Lost. She had also run our lights and sound a number of times and was familiar with what we were doing. Over the proceeding months she had grown very special to me and I knew that I could count on her. It didn’t hurt that she was also a talented and beautiful actress. She would become my new “sister” and be billed as Melissa Jo Talent … the only Talent with a four syllable name, for all you trivia buffs.

She recommended Matt Olsem, who had also appeared in Hamlet and Love’s Labors Lost. Matt had proven himself a dear friend and an easy-going actor. One thing was certain, with Matt I wouldn’t have to worry about all the additional drama that had haunted Abnormal Stew since day one. I took his initials (M.O.) and came up with Mo Talent. I liked the sound of it … this guy has Mo’ Talent than the rest of us. I could promote that.

With two actors who I admired and could socialize with, I still knew we would need another body. Enter Kimberly Conzo, who had also appeared in Love’s Labors Lost and who I found to be a charming and intelligent actress. I had felt guilty that such a talented actress wasn't getting her due in LLL thanks to my expansive cuts. With Kimberly on board, we set about to rehearsing the all-new, all-different Abnormal Stew.

Some material would stay … the four of us would appear in She Said Maybe, Matt would take over for Laz in the He-Man/I’m Not Gay material, a new “deaf guy” sketch that we had originally considered early on in the Stew rehearsal process would work itself into the show also featuring Matt and I. Kimberly and Melissa would appear in a Waiting for Godot-ish piece of material dressed as an executioner and Snow White, respectively. One of the highlights for me was seeing Mel in the Snow White outfit … I just wish a picture existed of it.

Some quick rehearsals, most of which were held at Mel’s apartment and we were going to dive in. John Chatterton, the owner of the theatre, appeared at our first show (he was practically the only person there) and all I could think of was, “Great! So now he decides to show up!”

We survived the performance … by the skin of our teeth. Some bits and pieces were dropped here and there. The laughs were few and far between. But one thing was certain … I enjoyed working with these people. Abnormal Stew might have died a slow death … but maybe The Talented Talent Brothers could survive. Matt is like a brother and I dearly love Mel. Maybe, just maybe, an infusion of new blood, new chemistry, could rescue this dying idea?

With Stew behind me, I began to re-focus on just what Baby Hippopotamus Productions could become. In the meantime, I would take some other acting work. Just to keep busy. Just to keep the juices flowing. With the holidays approaching I accepted a role in a play called The Whales that had been in rehearsal for several weeks already and would open immediately after the New Year. I didn’t realize until after the first rehearsal that I was essentially playing the lead.

So much for taking some easy work just to keep the juices flowing. Frankly, I was more interested in this little script that I had been working on. Maybe it could be the next Talented Talent Brothers vehicle? I had never done a play set in a zoo ...

History of The Talented Talent Bros -- Chapter IV

It was done. Abnormal Stew had opened. As we put all of our costumes and props in their proper homes stuffed in various places in my office, listening to the others speak about what they thought worked and so forth was very helpful. With all the costume changes I had (getting in and out of He-Man was a bit of a pain) I hadn’t been able to listen in and pay attention to scenes I was not in very well. However, I had made a few observations.

First, the show ran too long. Period. Our first performance was over two and a half hours. The major culprits were the films. Only one film, Rev Balki’s Holy Sh**, ran under three minutes. I had mistakenly assumed we would need the length of the others so that we could make costume changes, but I was dead wrong. This was something we would’ve learned had we ever properly run the show.

Second, the He-Man Cocktail Party routine, which I had very little confidence in, was actually pretty strong … so long as Andy, Laz and I strayed from the script, riffed a bit and just had fun. As written? Eh. As we did it? Weird riot!

Third, Laz and I could be a terrific twosome. Rehearsals certainly had hinted at this, but actually having an audience (small as it was) amplified things a bit. We could riff, listen to one another and move a comedic scene along. Weeks later I would even contemplate how good we would be as a modern Felix and Oscar … in fact, he and I should re-write The Odd Couple and just do it. Neil Simon be damned.

Finally, the sock monkey shouldn’t talk. Not that Socko ever was meant to talk. A snafu at intermission and then again at the end of the show (thanks Playstation!) got us into a bind and Jillyn, trying in vain to cover, spoke. It was bad … really bad.

That Damn Day Job

The biggest obstacle to my creativity (outside of my innate laziness) has always been the need to make a buck. Working a “normal” job, especially with the commitment and number of hours I was putting in, just drains me and makes me want to spend what little free time I have watching hours of mindless television and sleeping when I could be writing and creating.

Typical of the time in my life, I would have to go back to work immediately after the show to meet a deadline for the next day. So, instead of going out and celebrating with the cast (who socialized outside of rehearsals too infrequently) I had to say my goodbyes and sit in front of the computer for another five or six hours.

Just before 1am an email popped up in my Inbox. It was from JB. In a matter of seconds I was pissed beyond all belief.

Another One Bites The Dust

Without quoting the email, JB informed me that it was his intention to leave the show after the Labor Day performance, which would be our third show. He expressed that he was miserable, particularly around a “few select people,” and felt that he didn’t want to put anymore time or money into this show (he had more than held up his end financially to this point, for which I was extremely grateful) and that he felt it was going nowhere.

My breaking point had finally been hit. My first reaction? “Well, F*ck you then,” might sum it up. Suddenly thoughts of just quitting and canceling the show were racing through my head. I had said all along that The Talented Talent Brothers was going to be my last, best shot. I had been pursuing this dream of a career for nearly two decades with little success but I knew that this concept, this idea was golden. I had promised myself that I would pour everything into it and its success or failure would determine my own personal success or failure. Pay attention to that little detail … it will come into play later in our story.

Pride and determination won out, however. I had put way too much of my own money, time and effort into Abnormal Stew just to do one performance and walk away. Others had also put in time and effort and I felt I owed it to them not to walk away and risk them feeling that they had simply been wasting their time.

We would continue without JB. But not in three weeks … we would do it now. No need in escalating already strained relationships with the rest of the cast. We would cut ties now and Stew would rest squarely on my shoulders … the last place I wanted it. I replied to JB my thoughts and feelings, expressed my disappointment and anger and told him that there was no need to prolong this … we would sever ties now.

But What About Everybody Else?

The next evening we had a rehearsal already scheduled. Kat Castaneda would, by circumstance, be eliminated from the show as well. She had appeared only in JB’s scenes and (just to show how disorganized we were) I didn’t even have her contact information – JB had always notified her and Giselle and I notified Laz, Andy and Jillyn of rehearsals, schedules and film shoots. I felt bad ... I personally liked Kat and thought she was very talented ... we just fell out of touch.

There at that rehearsal stood the five people that would decide the fate of Abnormal Stew … Laz Viciedo, Giselle Hyland (billed as “Baby G Talent”), Andy Jacobs, Jillyn McKittrick and the guy that brought them to the party, me. I informed them that JB had decided to leave the show in three weeks and that I had made that arrangement immediate. I then left it in their hands … it was up to them whether or not the show would continue. It was unanimous … we would make this work.

Immediately Laz and I set to work rearranging the show, adding a few new skits, removing some of the films, editing others to be shorter. Jillyn would start in She Said Maybe then change into the sock monkey. Rev Balki was removed but the scene would stay … only now re-worked to be a more Wagstaff-ian scene. Everybody found their roles increased.

As Laz would write in his blog at the time, “The 5 of us got together and hashed out a solution to our missing main character. Needless to say we pulled it off without a hitch. We actually ran a smooth show that was actually funny. It was tighter and everyone seemed to have more fun with it.” He was right. Maybe it was the nerves, maybe because the mood was lighter and less tense, maybe it was a sense of camaraderie … whatever it was, that second show kicked a$$.

Our third and fourth performances saw respectable-sized houses laughing to the antics of five talented individuals. Personally, I was happy with the quality of the show and thrilled to have established real relationships with Laz and Giselle. I was also drained. I wasn’t putting the time I should’ve been into promoting the show. After the fourth performance, attendance started to dwindle.

I hadn’t even come up with a proper solution to having somebody to run lights and sound, hand out programs and take money. Most of the time Jillyn’s husband Chad would chip in but he wasn’t always available. Tony King and Melissa McCulloch, who I had worked with on Hamlet, were periodically recruited to come in and take charge when Chad was stuck at work.

A note on Chad McKittrick

… at least an observation … from all that I could tell (and many, many people would second this) he is a thoroughly decent and good man who was devoted to his wife. He put up with a lot … coming to Jillyn’s rehearsals, supporting her career, driving out to Jersey or wherever to get his wife to a performance and then sit there and watch her make out with me onstage. What happened between them behind closed doors is anybody’s guess and none of our business. All I can say is having worked with Jillyn on two shows (Hamlet and then Abnormal Stew) he appears to have won more fans than she did. No one (besides Jillyn, that is) that I am aware of ever had a bad thing to say about Chad McKittrick. Loyalty, to me, is an invaluable trait … near as I could tell, Chad had it. Probably still does. Too bad he couldn’t impart that trait to his wife.

Cold Stew

Near the end of October our audience was next too nothing (sometimes it was nothing) and I received two pieces of news: Laz would be moving to the West Coast and Giselle would be taking a trip to Mexico to visit family. They would both be leaving the show at the end of the month. To me, the writing was on the wall … we had a good run, but it was time to wind this thing down.

One problem, though. I was committed to producing performances in November for a Fall/Winter Festival that the theatre was holding. I would need to produce four more shows without Laz and Giselle. Jillyn expressed interest in staying with the show under the conditions that she would take over Giselle’s roles and would not put that sock monkey suit on again. I didn’t have to think twice about it … no way. Not worth the effort. I wanted to keep Andy, but his allegiance to and relationship with Jillyn would make that awkward.

The hell with it. Abnormal Stew and The Talented Talent Brothers would honor their commitments … but with only one returning performer … me.

History of The Talented Talent Bros -- Chapter III

After months of preparation and rehearsal, The Talented Talent Brothers’ first show was finally going to open. People, albeit only a few, would finally see what we had worked so long and hard on. Yet I couldn’t help but feel under-prepared. Very personal tensions had been vying for my attention and now I was expected to lead our little group into battle with an audience that we outnumbered. The pot was no longer on the stove … it was time to serve some Abnormal Stew.

Opening Night

Things would be a little out of the ordinary right off. As we were booked as a weekly show, we were required to load-in prior to each and every performance. This basically meant that just an hour before curtain we would bring in all of our sets and props and get the theatre ready before we opened the house. There would be no pre-show relaxation. Instead, there was a little manual labor.

It began with the cast meeting at my office on 42nd Street where I stored all of our set pieces, costumes and props. We had purposely designed the show to be simple. Our set consisted of four folding chairs, a television that sat on a number of blocks or a rolling table, a Playstation we used to play the DVD because nobody owned an extra DVD player and … well, actually that was about it.

We did, however, have a ton of props and costumes. Most of these were housed in a giant suitcase that JB found in Queens. The most noticeable, and largest, prop was Battlecat … a giant stuffed green tiger. I didn’t buy a green tiger, I bought a white one that I assumed we would be able to dye green.

Battlecat

About a week before we opened, I gave the tiger to Jillyn to dye in her bathtub. The dye didn’t take and the result was a tiger that looked like he had been living in the street for the past six months. I performed a green paint test on his belly and it clumped up and appeared muddy and grey. On a lark JB and I tried using a green highlighter pen and the result wasn’t too bad. With that discovery JB spent an entire evening and eighteen markers to completely color the cat.

He was the hit of the show … and a hit during our weekly caravan walking all the props and costumes from 42nd Street to the theatre on 36th.

Curtain ... Well, There Wasn't a Curtain Per Se

Jillyn’s husband Chad was promptly recruited to run our lights and sound for that opening night performance and everybody gathered at my office to make the first haul. Tensions were quite high from our final disaster of a rehearsal. Some were concerned, myself included to be honest, that JB wouldn’t show. We had very minimal rehearsal with Tammy who would be stepping in for Kat during our first performance, but Tammy was a consummate professional and was better prepared than any of us expected.

Nothing was said about the conflicts that had arisen recently as we made the trek to 36th Street. As fate would have it, a light rain was falling that we were not prepared for. Everything was slightly moist when we arrived. We set up, Chad had a quick go with the lights and sound, the house was opened, a handful of people arrived and The Talented Talent Brothers officially made their debut.

The show opened with a “Legal Disclaimer” played on the television. That is, after I fudged around and figured out how the damn Playstation worked. I then launched into something of a prologue (mostly improvisational) welcoming folks and pondering the meaning of humor and “what makes people laugh.” Then we opened with a tried and true piece of material, She Said Maybe.

She Said Maybe was originally written as part of a sitcom pilot script that I had toyed with around 1998. I would later shoot it on video with the North Carolina Film Workshop and then, in 2002, stage it at the Brooklyn Lyceum with Renee Ashcroft, Rachel Macklin and my hometown pal and protégé Hayden Hooper. It was tested, it was sweet, it was … not wacky. I thought of it as an easy way to open our show … didn’t want to bash the audience’s head over with a hammer yet. That would come later.

Next we would meet He-Man (me again) at a cocktail party in a piece originally written by Greg Sandquist. This would be the first of several appearances of He-Man. In fact, we did a good job of having our characters frequently reappear, giving the show some cohesion. The next recurring characters were played by Andy Jacobs and Giselle Hyland as a couple with serious marital problems … stemming from her having slept with the waiter, Socko.

As the night continued we would meet JB’s characters Rev Balki and Dr. Cockburn, we would see short (not as short as they should have been) films, be treated to Laz doing Tony Montana doing Mr. Rogers, see Matrix-style combat done with no budget and wonder just what the heck that sock monkey was. It all ended with a mass murder and news report putting an all-points bulletin out for our dear little Socko.

One Down … How Many To Go?

A final applause and a return trip to the office and we had put our first show behind us. Laz and Giselle would help me store the props while Jillyn confronted JB about his recent behavior. The rest of us were just relieved to have survived the experience and chit-chatted about what worked and what didn’t. Only JB and Jillyn were aware of their conversation and, to this day, I don’t really know what was said. I don’t really care to know.

But what I do know is that it started a chain of events that would seriously endanger and alter Abnormal Stew before we even got to a second performance. The fallout would result in a reduced cast size, a restructuring of the show, an even more prominent role for me, a bonding of comedic minds and the most exciting, nerve-wracking second performance of my life.

History of The Talented Talent Bros -- Chapter II

Abnormal Stew’s opening in August 2005 was fast approaching and I was stretching myself way too thin. In the months leading up to our stage debut I had played the title role in a production of Hamlet and directed a production of Love’s Labours Lost. In addition to that I was working 60+ hours a week at the day job. As we learned in Chapter I, The Talented Talent Brothers had been a focus for nearly two years. Time had been invested … and like I always do, I pressed on.

I neglected my family. I neglected my health. I would pay dearly in time … but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

The Stew Is In the Pot

We hadn’t even taken the stage and we had already lost three Talent Brothers. The whole idea was originated with Clyde and Jabbar. When they left I was certain that bringing in a guy like Jef would be perfect. For a couple of days an extremely impressive actress named Paige Lussier was on board. Every time I started to gain confidence that this idea and this show would be something special … somebody walked.

I was frustrated … nobody was grasping hold of the idea, the concept, the gimmick. As a child, whenever I played with my brother, I was Robin to his Batman. Tonto to his Lone Ranger. I didn’t really want the spotlight. I wanted to showcase the talents of others and give myself a moment or two to shine. My focus would be to support the group … I never wanted to be a star; I just wanted to be part of something special. I would focus on the “business end” and try to get us as much press as possible. What would lead to success would be unity, a commonality. “If mama says we’re family, we’re family!”

Maybe I should have been more of a leader.

The week before Stew opened we had a blurb in the Village Voice, a listing in Time Out New York, been booked as part of the 2005 Fashion District Arts Festival and an exclusive interview featured on nytheatre.com. We had shot and edited a handful of cute, funny little skits to show on a television during the show while we made costume changes and such. What we hadn’t done is actually run the damn show. We had no idea of how it might flow … I was worried that it would run way too long.

This is where writing this little history gets tricky. It’s hard to write anything negative about people who I genuinely care about. But the truth is the truth, right? So, before we go any further, let me point something out. Today JB is a good friend and I respect him and his talents a great deal. The past is the past. We were both man enough to recognize our mistakes and make peace with them and each other. He’s grown and I’ve grown.

But back to August of 2005 …

I was stretched nearly to the breaking limit. My marriage was in jeopardy, my health was on the decline, my job was frustrating and Abnormal Stew kept trying to fall apart. Kat Castaneda wasn’t anywhere to be found, JB’s wife Tammy would be stepping in for our first performance, Jillyn McKittrick was obviously growing unhappy with the whole sock monkey idea and had her own issues … with her husband Chad, with me and apparently with Andy. I’ll leave what those issues might be to your imagination. Laz and Giselle were slowly evolving into a couple … at least something really good would come out of all this.

I scheduled a rehearsal at my place a few days before we opened. We would relax. We would have a little fun, enjoy one another’s company … and run the freaking show from top to bottom. We would get back on track …

… or not.

That rehearsal did not go well. Too much alcohol was served, too many egos were bruised. We never ran the show and JB left … quite literally just went out to smoke and was never seen again. We were hours away from opening … and I had no idea what was going to happen.

Give credit where credit is due: Laz Viciedo is one of the most talented and confident performers I have ever met. He would become a good friend and, in some ways, a mentor. I could riff with him better than I had been able to riff with any other actor or comedian … ever … and I’ve done this for a while. I wasn’t terribly worried about getting on a stage… I knew that, if push came to shove, Laz and I could take the ball and run with it. Giselle (who I also respect and love and who will forever be my sister) and Andy had some funny moments together that were can’t miss. Jillyn would be dressed in a ridiculous sock monkey costume. We would be okay.

But I was distracted, angry and frustrated. JB may have pissed me off, but he was my brother. You don’t talk shit about my brother to me. Most of the cast (Laz, Giselle and even Andy) tread lightly around the subject … at least with me. They were hurt and angry and they had every right to be. But they had the tact to be cognizant of my feelings – they expressed their disappointment and anger, but stopped short of insulting me or what JB and I had accomplished thus far. They made me aware of their feelings and concerns and I certainly appreciated and respected them for it. They could’ve just said, “Screw this!” and walked out.

All I could do was question all the effort, all the thought, all the money, all the time that I had committed to this project. I had put even more than I intended on the line. Was the whole concept of The Talented Talent Brothers worth even pursuing? I had made two new friends, Laz and Giselle, who I respected and appreciated … but my idea, my dream, kept trying to come crashing down.

Would Stew even open? And if so, at what cost?