Click Here to order tickets!

Go to BotanicGardenthePlay.com

”What’s involved?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Tell me, what’s involved?”

I wanted to be clear, so I said it clearly, “There’s no money in theater.”

Two days later, I was in his office, and I said to him and his son, “Repeat after me, ‘We’re now going to talk about theater and money, and therefore, that makes us (them) certifiably insane.’” That’s exactly what they did. Thirty minutes later I walked out with a significant check.

Dream Team

back row, left to right: Rachel Healey, Jim Leaming, Keith Pitts, Joe Foust

center row, left to right: Rita Pietraszek, Deya Friedman, Carmen Roman

front row: Olympia Dukakis, Todd Logan

missing: Lindsay Jones

Carmen Roman is a force of nature. She is also one of Chicago’s best actors. She’s won the best actor award for Wit and Master Class. Two years ago, she did a reading of BOTANIC GARDEN at American Theater Company. Her husband, Jim Leaming, was supposed to read with her. At the last minute, he bailed because he was just hired for a role in a Steppenwolf show.

After the reading, while we were at nearby joint, sucking down the obligatory post-reading beers, Jim stopped by. Very nice guy. Very good looking. Like Carmen, very tall. I’ve yet to make eye contact with either of them. I asked Carmen how the reading might have gone if she had read with Jim.

“I would have cried throughout.”

That was two years ago. That stuck with me. I tracked down Carmen and Jim at Peninsula Players, the oldest summer stock theater in the country, located in Door County Wisconsin. I made the four-hour drive to see them. They read the play aloud. Twice, Carmen cried. I offered them the roles, and they accepted. One catch: we had to mutually agree upon a director. Reasonable, I thought.The last five years, Carmen has spent most of her time in New York.

“I’m involved with a theater group in New York, and if you wouldn’t mind, there’s someone I’d like to ask to direct.”

Sounded reasonable.

“Olympia Dukakis.”

I kept a straight face. But, if the old Zapruder camera had been on me, I’m sure it would have seen every permutation of laughter, hilarity, incredulity, as in there’s no frigging way that will ever happen. I indulged Carmen.

“Sure, sure try Olympia.”

“She’d really sink her teeth into this material.”

I tried to picture Olympia’s teeth. I couldn’t.

“Carmen, if Olympia isn’t available, who are some Chicago directors you and Jim would consider?”

“Let’s just try Olympia.”

“Just for the hell of it, let’s think of a few names.”

“Let’s not.”

Since we were sitting down, we were able to look directly into each other’s eyes. I saw in Carmen a resolve and strength that, well, frankly, intimidated the hell out of me.

“Sure, let’s just try Olympia.”

(more…)

It’s an end run in a bricks and mortar world.

2. What the hell does that mean?

Instead of sitting around waiting for theaters to get back to me, I said the hell with it and decided to record stuff and distribute them thru this website.

3. Are any other playwrights doing this?

As far as I know, no.

4. So, you’re the first?

What did I just say?

5. It was a rhetorical question.

How was I supposed to know?

6. It was in my tone.

Was it?

7. I thought so.

Didn’t really hear it.

6. If you re-read it, you’ll see it’s there.

Just did. Still don’t see it.

7. Believe me it’s there.

This is important to you… that I see it.

8. Yes, it is.

I’ll try to do better.

9. Thank you. Now let’s get back to toddlogansdesk.com. Could you tell us a little something about the work?

Like what?

10. Your movie, WITH A FAMILY LIKE MINE… is it about a family like yours?

I like to believe it’s about all families.

(more…)

Norma Rae writes:

Todd, here is my “Man-Made Natural Disaster Show Biz Story”:
I wish they would cancel the show I am currently “in rehearsal” for. Now, mind you, there is nothing I enjoy more than embodying a fully-realized character in a very well-written play. And this play won the Pulitzer Prize. But, the performance space is currently under water. Which also means the rehearsal space is currently under water (and untreated sewage). The director took an acting job - in Rockford! and so he won’t “be around very much, and won’t be able to attend the performances…” - but “assured” the other actor and myself that a stage manager may be able to attend one of the rehearsals - at one of the actor’s homes, maybe? - when he is not there. The play is scheduled to open in two weeks. Did I mention that the performance space is very precariously near (in) the Des Plaines River? Did I also mention that my rain dance should also win the Pulitzer Prize (if there is such a thing for dance choreography?) There should be. The river crests at nine feet. I never would have known that before this “process”. I also never thought it would be possible to fill out an Actors Equity Association Application WHILE performing a rain dance. It is.

Pretty good, don’t you think?

There are three postscripts to this story. The first is Norma Rae’s play was cancelled. For this she’s extremely grateful. The second is Norma Rae has decided to take a break from acting. The tipping point wasn’t her torrential tale of woe; rather it was the insulting experience of a director not casting her in the role of ‘the wife,’ because in ‘real’ life she’s never been married. Can they do that, you wonder? They can do any damn thing they want. Finally, Norma Rae is thrilled to have won the contest. Just one problem, she wants to swap the six-pack for a Starbuck’s cappuccino, grande, two-percent, extra foam. Yeah, Norma Rae, good luck with that!

After 5 days of rehearsal, my play, BOTANICAL GARDENS, was cancelled by the producers. Their decision was neither fair nor rational. The way they went about making their decision –one in Scotland, the other in Wyoming — was torturous, leaving the two actors, the director, and myself hanging in the proverbial breeze for 48 hours. The details are not juicy; rather mundane. What can I say? Theater camp sucked.

Yes, to have my play cancelled is a disappointment. Three things I like about playwriting are:

1. Writing. When I’m writing and the characters finally come alive on the page and begin talking to each. It feels like I’m taking dictation. I wrote PERSISTENCE OF VISION in a weekend. The other plays and screenplays have taken at least 8 months. And, in each instance it was at least 6 months before the characters started talking to each other. Before that happens, I write a lot and throw away a lot.

2. Rehearsals. I get tremendous pleasure watching terrific directors and actors practice their crafts. BOTANICAL GARDENS’ Anne Carney and Malachy Cleary are amazing actors, Rob Urbinati, a successful playwright himself, is a high-powered director. Watching them work together was like watching musicians learn a new piece of music. Within just five days, they were already hitting the right notes for the first 4 scenes.

3. Watching performances. Many people tell me that they catch me laughing during my plays. It’s true. I have a great time at performances.. It’s not because I think the plays are great. By the time they make the stage, it’s been at least three years since I finished writing. By then, I hardly remember having written it. I laugh because the actors are so good. They make me laugh.

How are you doing? How are you taking it? You must be crushed? Are you going to live?

The last one my mother, who has never blogged, asked.
(more…)

Wow! A lot going on there. And, not part of the original Otherwise, Inc. plan. The ‘original Otherwise, Inc. plan’ was to create a site to draw people interested in the themes of my movie and my plays, get them to watch and listen, and then join in discussion groups. It was made clear to me that I was not a selling point. ‘No one has ever heard of you.’ they said. Not true. Many people have heard of me — family (obviously), friends, colleagues, and people who have been to my plays or seen my movie (yes, some memory jogging may be required). After some debate, Otherwise, conceded the point but not without making it clear, they had never heard of me. There was no mention of a blog until early last week — when I read the revised marketing plan.

So, here I am, on a plane to New York — off to theater camp — writing my first blog entry. The person sitting next to me is craning her neck to see what I’m writing. My dilemma, should I or should I not show her? I’m an airplane neck- craner, too. Yes, life would be much easier if your seatmate just shared what they were writing. They don’t; I’m not going to be the first.
(more…)