Happy Lent

“When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.  Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.  But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." - From The Book of Common Prayer, Ash Wednesday, 2012 (Matthew 6:16-21)
 

photo from blog "liturgical time"

Happy Lent everyone!  Last year, I gave up movies for Lent and was very cranky.  Hardest thing I've ever done, probably, and a HUGE lesson for me in the nature and purpose of fasting.  This year, I don't feel a particular pull towards any specific Lenten sacrifice.  Maybe hot air balloon rides?  Maybe group sex in public parks?...or inappropriate jokes?

Growing up, I spent most of my time attending "non-denominational" Christian churches with my mom and missed out on a lot of the the more ancient church-calendar practices of the Catholic and more traditional protestant churches.  As an adult, I've developed a sense of curiosity and respect for the mysticism and tradition of these practices and am still learning a lot about what's behind the thinking of something like Lent, for example.  Today I discovered Liturgical Time, a blog that tracks and illuminates the church calendar.  There's a great deal of peace and reassurance for me in following the footsteps of this cycle of meditation, grace, and mercy.  

There's something artistic and uncanny about Lent, and the church calendar, and indeed about church.  But Lent in particular, for me, is a creative act; a time of gestation and preparing the soul to be receptive.  For me, the season of Lent is a sense of smouldering embers, suppressed desire, boiling water stirred up and seasoned tightly under a lid (as my acting teacher might say), and of really facing truths that might be hard to look at.  

A friend of mine recently told me that one reason he no longer participates in the church is because of an involuntary epiphany he had one day.  Already an actor, he attended service and found himself looking at it from a professional theatrical point of view.  Like always, he saw priests and volunteers wearing costumes, standing on a stage, following a script, using music and cues, telling a story based on a book.  With a sudden, life-altering smack, he concluded that church is basically the same as the theater - all a big show.  He went on to conclude, differently than me, that it must be a fiction.  

I see his point, I really do.  There's an element of religion that's mass manipulation (pun intended), where church assumes the role of a big business playing and preying on peoples' senses of conscience and dignity, family and guilt to take advantage of them financially and, worse, spiritually.  I do see what my friend means about churches seeming an awful lot like theater - there's music and performance, the leaders use public speaking techniques to manipulate their audiences (sorry, I mean, congregations), and the entire teaching and message is part of a narrative/story that some argue is created, not divine.  I get it.  Sure.  A good church service - or any public event - will most likely follow Freytag's pyramid of dramatic structure, just like a good play or a good calendar year.  And I'm not going to say it's always a great thing that churches put on a show, but for me, in general, the theatrical elements of church can make it all the more beautiful. Indeed, I go to theater for much the same reason that I go to church - to experience the truth, to enter a no-bullshit zone where I can make some sense and possibly even some joy out of being human.  We can know God (I believe) as easily in a black-box or the subway as in a pew.

And if church is like theater, the church calendar spells out it's dramatic structure.  Lent is sort of the climax.  In Christian terms, it's the crucifixion - and now, everything is waiting for the denouement, the surprise reversal of Christ's resurrection.  But for now, the shit has hit the fan in Lent.  We have to deal with being human.  The beauty of believing in God is that our story doesn't end there.  Being human isn't limited by our humanness, but rather transcended and set free in infinity.  All of it is building, building, building....waiting, waiting, waiting...

"Remember you are dust and unto dust you shall return."  It's theater at it's best.  And then some.

Movie Magic

"Love Me Tender" will play at The Knitting Factory this Sunday. It looks like a super cool event just based on the poster alone - full of nifty short films and swanky people, all getting together being awesome. You should go. I should go. We should go together.

That's not all. There's more movie magic happening in my life right now, not least of which is a new appreciation and renewed ardor for my true love. Film. God, I love it so stinking much. It makes no sense how much I love them. Films. Whenever I can, I'm watching them. With other people. Without other people. Doesn't matter. I've been known to cancel meeting up with people because I became too engrossed in a film to disentangle myself* (CLEARLY a character flaw, I know I have a problem). When I'm not watching films, I'm either thinking about films I've already seen, films I want to see, people who make or might make films that I can watch or be in, or films I'd like to make. It just never ends - the obsession, the love affair, the tragic addiction, the romance.

This is why I gave up movies for Lent. I had never, ever, observed Lent before and must say, choosing to start by giving up movies was possibly the hardest thing I could have picked. As soon as I shared it with my roommates they all said, "Oooh, yeah, that's a really good one for you." (Again, CLEARLY I have a problem). This decision was reached not without pain. After a long (and delicious) week of watching at least 14 hours of BBC miniseries on Netflix as well as the entire trilogy of "The Girl With A Dragon Tattoo" films, I was feeling pretty happy in my little movie bubble. Then out of nowhere, in the shower, almost like a disembodied voice, the thought came to me - Jeanne Joe should give up movies for Lent.

I didn't know if it was possible, I didn't even really know why - it just felt like the right thing to do. As soon as I thought of it, I was pissed off for thinking of it. NO WAY, I thought. Why would I give up movies? How could I give up movies? Crazy talk! But then, the glove had been tossed. I couldn't NOT do it, now that I had thought of doing it. It was a challenge from the universe. I had to do it.

And it was stinking hard. At first, I thought it might be a good way to force myself to be more outgoing in my free time, but actually, I found that once I took the option of movies off the table, I started using my time differently. I picked up some extra shifts, scheduled more auditions, read a book (!!!!!), visited my Dad in Texas, made some new friends, caught up with some old friends, saw a couple plays, and cleaned my room. Ok, I probably would have done that anyway.

I don't share any of this to brag - in fact I did have a lapse one day and my roommate caught me and slapped me on the wrist. I was literally pulling a peeping tom, spying on them as they watched "Inglourious Basterds" in another room. It was the scene of Melanie Laurent preparing herself to burn the theater down, to the anachronistic but essentially perfect David Bowie (Cat People). I mean, COME ON - I was practically drooling. How could I say no to that?!?! My spirit is willing but my flesh is definitely weak. My dear, poor, patient roommate reminded me to be disciplined. And I think I swore at her, oops.

Recovering addicts are rarely on their a-game with manners.

My point being, though, that by giving up something I loved for a little while, I had a chance to step back and use my time in new ways. I also gained a slightly different perspective on my obsession with movies, had some fresh insights to the way my own brain works and why, maybe, other people like movies too. And while I was jonesin' and illin' for movies to come back in my life, they did - but with totally cinematic, film-esque unpredictability. Meaning, I booked a film job! And a theater job. And a webisode job. Not that I'm saying giving up movies got me those jobs. I'm just saying, it contributed to a refocusing of energy and purpose that helped motivate me through some exciting, busy weeks.

Now I can watch movies again. The first thing I saw was "Your Highness," which was so blatantly terrible it almost made me want to continue avoiding movies for the rest of my life. But then we launched into pretty much all the "Dirty Harry" films, Gunga Din, and "4 For Texas." I was in Texas, it made sense at the time.

In summary, the thrill and the high of movie magic is even more intense than ever for me. Good thing too - "Toothbrush" is filming next week!! Looking forward to being on location, working with a truly hilarious and top-notch team. Every time I go over the script, it cracks me up. Can't wait!

Also, shout out to all of my ASDS peeps! Repertory Season is in full swing and everyone and anyone should take advantage and GO SEE these amazingly acted, superbly directed, beautifully written, and stunningly realized thesis shows that are all FREE. Here's an article about them on Broadwayworld.com