Dathalinn O’Dea, who teaches at Marist College in Poughkeepsie led a discussion at the David Hunt Library in Falls Village, a few weeks ago on James Joyce’s short story “The Dead”. A dozen or so of us were the benefactors of her erudition. There is an excellent movie of the story with Angelica Huston leading an all-star Irish cast with the late great Donal McCann playing Houston’s husband. The story/movie ends with Huston crying for the loss of an early love and McCann at a loss for her loss. The film is directed by Angelica’s father, the sublime John with a screenplay by his son Tony. The last minute of the film with Angelica weeping and McCann eloquently befuddled ripped me up.
The ending will, perhaps, prepare you for the end of Joyce’s “Ulysses” with its show-stopping, Molly Bloom speech and if she doesn’t stop your show, you surely don’t have a show to stop.
Just about finishing Colum McCann’s “Let The Great World Spin” — on an Irish kick here — having adored his “Transatlantic,” in which he recounts the Irish sojourn of Frederick Douglass in which Douglass says he never once felt an ounce of prejudice when in the Old Sod. Nor a scintilla of condescension, as he always felt stateside even from the firmest abolitionist.
The film “The Commitments,” about a singing group in Dublin has this passage — The Irish are the Blacks of Europe; the Dubliners are the Blacks of Ireland; and the Barrytowners are the Blacks of Dublin.
That all came to me Friday. On Saturday afternoon I attended “A Year with Frog and Toad” performed by the Falls Village Children’s Theater at the Center on Main in the second smallest town in the third smallest state in the Union, Union being the smallest town in the …
“Frog and Toad” from stories by Arnold Lobel was directed and choreographed by Amber Cameron, Falls Village resident and former Rockette, Falls Village boasting three former Rockettes, which must be some sort of Guinness (as in the Stout) record. What Amber accomplished with a gaggle of kids surely makes herding cats look easy. I’ve worked extensively in kids’ theater and this ain’t easy.
There is a scene in which three little girls undulate on as one snail. If I’ve seen anything funnier in New York, Chicago, London or L.A., it has slipped my memory.
Bravo/a to them all.
And on Sunday afternoon at the Cornwall Library, I saw Priscilla Gilman present passages of her excellent book “The Critic’s Daughter” about Richard Gilman, who was my professor at the Yale School of Drama, a man who saved me. Explanation. In ensemble work at Yale I presented a scene. Everyone hated it. Except Dick, whom I did not know but who came to my defense. As he would for many years to come.
Dick directed my first professional production — “Iz She Izzy Or Iz He Ain’tzy Or Iz They Both.” “Izzy has Marx Brothers-like Physicality.” Richard Gilman, The New York Times.
During rehearsals one of our actors kept bugging Dick — What’s my motivation. The actor was playing a slapstick lawyer named A. T. “Ernie” Law. Dick hated that sort of talk. It smacked of the angst-ridden realistic theater that boiled his blood. The actor was relentless. Finally, Dick said, “You graduated at the top of your Tulane Law School class and went on to become the lead prosecutor of New Orleans County.” The actor exclaimed, “That’s it. That is who I am!”
The actor went away and Dick grinned.
I told that story to Priscilla and she howled. That was her dad.
And that was my 48 hours. We may be up here in da sticks, but we sure got some kulcher.
Lonnie Carter is a playwright, Obie winner and his signature play is “The Sovereign State of Boogedy Boogedy.”
My forty-eight hours of local literary exhilaration