Hi, everyone! In case you’ve been living under a rock, stuff has more or less ground to a halt in the traditional entertainment world (at the time of writing, he said hopefully) due to a horrifying pandemic. I feel for you and for all of us who appreciate the role that theater plays in enriching our lives.

I’m blessed to live in Rhode Island, which seems (again, at the time of writing, he said hopefully) to be weathering the proverbial storm well, and I’m also blessed — realizing I speak from a position of privilege here — that pandemic living wasn’t much of a change from regular living for me. I was always more of a takeout-and-delivery kind of guy, and frankly rather comfortable on the couch as opposed to in a crowd; my social life was thriving, but one of punctuated equilibrium rather than endless adventures with friends 24/7. Not a world of difference to someone like me.

Having said that, I know some people have it much harder than I do. To those of you really in the thick of it who are theater fans, and don’t have that source to which to turn to ease some of the pain of living, I share with you my philosophy on that count: everything we hold important to us, whatever it is, will be enriched and enhanced even more when we’re able to gather freely again. In the meantime, keep those special experiences alive — watch whatever shows, movies, etc., are available; listen to whatever recordings you have (yes, even the bootlegs); take stock of your swag, Playbills, ticket stubs, and so forth. Try to remember how that show or moment made you feel. By the time things have returned to something resembling normal, it’ll all mean even more.

I hope that, by that same time, some ideas I’ve been cooking up will come to fruition as well. They’re all listed in brief on page 3 of my company’s mission statement (hitherto tucked away on my bio page above), but I thought I’d expand on the thoughts behind them, the better to make my intentions clear as Hunter Arrogant Entertainment pushes forward into the future. Plus, if my friends who believe in the power of manifestation and post about it incessantly on every social media platform in existence are anything to go by, then “speaking it into being” may help me push it that extra inch farther when the time comes.

I’ll begin, as the title suggests, with The Stepford Clones.

In practical terms, as the description in the mission statement suggests, The Stepford Clones would be a resident company of performers designed to be the backbone of H.A.’s many projects in development. But they’d also be a sort of “island of misfit toys.” How so? I’ll explain.

I’ve recently noticed a phenomenon on Broadway that puzzles me to no end. Back in the day, there used to be tons of shows, be they musical or not, where the cast made it special, not the directing or the material. I remember seeing so many great performances in crappy shows over the years and thinking, “Wow! I don’t know how (insert actor name here) got out of this piece of shit unscathed, but they gave it their all and I couldn’t take my eyes off them the entire time.” (Sometimes being so convincing that I didn’t realize it was a piece of shit — and I have decent radar — until, much later on, I bought the album, read the script, or both, and thought, “…what the hell was so great about this?”)

Simply put: those days are gone. Now, if I see a show with shoddy writing or a bad directorial concept, the cast will usually come out of it looking equally inept, even when I’ve seen them shine elsewhere. I began to wonder why, to question what had happened to performers who could rise above a terrible show, and transcend the mundane. It’s so rare a phenomenon these days that when it does happen, it stands out. (In my opinion, Precious: Based on the Novel “Push” by Sapphire was one such occasion. The direction and the script were merely competent; the actors made that movie.)

As I began observing acting classes, forming many of the opinions that served as the basis for Acting 101 (For Broke People) (link is to that post), I started to figure out why. In addition to essentially training people for film and not grounding them in stage technique, arts educators had become good at cookie-cutter “one size fits all” teaching, most of which is pseudo-psychology that has placed a few such teachers on my shit list.

These days, the importance of being a “triple threat” has been stressed so much that it makes everyone bland — adequate singers, adequate dancers, adequate actors, nothing more. There’s no room for anyone who’s incredibly talented in just one or even two of those areas. Instead of focusing on specialized and individual performances, every actor is expected to be as averagely talented as the next. There’s no space for personality or unique talent; they haven’t done their apparent job if you haven’t been loaded down with study and had all the quirks pulled out of you.

In a single class, I witnessed two examples of this:

  • Guy #1 (who I’ll call “The Male Thelma Ritter,” or “Thelma” for short) was someone you might classify as a traditional character actor or even “second banana”; no way he’d play Romeo or any typical leading man convincingly. They didn’t know what to do with him, even when it was right in front of them; they gave him one Felix Unger scene, and he landed every Neil Simon joke like it was second nature, but it was summarily dismissed other than a perfunctory note of praise. And heaven forbid they let him blossom at it either; when Thelma got comfortable enough to try adding a bit of shtick, they told him he was mugging and that there was “no room for Nathan Lane in this exercise.” If it had been distracting from another person who was supposed to be in the spotlight at that moment, then criticism would’ve been warranted, but this was just a comic actor being creative. (For the record, the business he added was hysterical. Would’ve fit in perfectly on, say, the original Will and Grace.) Supporting roles are built in such a way now that they’re considered second leads by many, and the people who used to get supporting roles — the quirky, usually shorter, “character” guys — are being passed over for the androids. Further, any creativity that didn’t emanate from the leader (be it the director, a teacher, etc.) is stamped out, often simply because they didn’t think of it themselves. Talk about a horrible work environment for the actors. That’d make me phone in a performance, too.
  • Guy #2 (I’ll call him “Trad Dad”) is my favorite type of performer: striking, tall-ish, excellent body, quirky but attractive face, and can act and sing his ass off, with a phenomenal, loud, powerful baritone voice like a classic male musical theater star (think if Robert Preston could sing like Robert Goulet). No dancer, but someone your eyes just gravitate to when he’s on stage. Always on time, great to work with, personable, etc. Easily way more talent, and far more interesting, than most of the people on Broadway these days. If he’d come around in the Fifties or Sixties, a good casting director would’ve known what to do with him; he’d have never been out of work! They put him in a workshop for a new musical (one of the teachers, if I remember correctly, fancied herself a writer and decided she’d use the class as an inexpensive development lab). Trad Dad played a supporting role, pivotal but not the male lead, and so, somehow, despite being what he is, nobody thought he’d pull focus. I knew better, but I kept my mouth shut because I felt it’d be instructive to observe. Sure enough, after the show, his most frequent comment from audience members was “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” Given the opportunity, personality and unique talent shined through after all. But that was a rare occasion. (And the attention he pulled was so lopsided that the role was re-conceived and he was not asked to return at the next phase of development. He dodged a bullet if you ask me, but I digress.) Other than that workshop, unless it’s a revival of a pre-Nineties show, it’s all about the nasal high tenor rock voices for the guys and shrieky mixed belts for the women (sopranos get a little bit more to do, but they, too, are under-utilized).

It became very clear that performers weren’t rising above mediocre material because naturally talented actors without a pedigree don’t get a chance anymore. Today the vast majority come out of “the schools,” to a point that if you don’t get into one of “the schools,” it’s a good idea to major in something else or double major. And if they come through “the schools,” any uniqueness has been bred out of them. It’s like Broadway only has room for Stepford clones. They’ve taken over.

The saddest part is, I honestly don’t think a gifted, unique performer could succeed on Broadway today. If you can stomach the notion, picture what might’ve happened if yesterday’s legends came along in today’s environment, the same as what made them famous. Take Carol Channing, for example; hilarious, interesting, oozing star power, but no passable tap skills or high belt. She’d be typed out at most auditions, and maybe if she was lucky, she could turn that voice and personality into a steady role on Saturday Night Live, assuming a classmate didn’t get the gig, and create a character based on her first. If she went to one of those schools, Mary Martin would’ve been belittled for all the quirkiness that made her a star; she’d have been limited to a mix of Kate MacKinnon and Stephanie Beatriz parts, with a twist of Megan Mullally if she was lucky, and that’s no knock on any of the three of them, but it’s not what she was. Ethel Merman would probably be in opera; nobody else could get a comic operetta role in her range in a 100-mile radius. And who wants to imagine Julie Andrews being happy, even thankful, to maintain a simple singing waitress gig in Midtown?

Well, in the words of Rob Brydon, I’m simply not having it! I want unique personalities that can carry a show. I want the people who slipped through the cracks. I want rustlers, cutthroats, murderers, bounty hunters, desperadoes, mugs, pugs, thugs, nitwits, halfwits, dimwits, vipers, snipers, con men, Indian agents, Mexican bandits, muggers, buggerers, bushwhackers, horn-swogglers, horse thieves, bull dykes, train robbers, bank robbers, ass-kickers, shit-kickers, and Methodists. (…sorry, got a bit carried away and crossed wires with Blazing Saddles for a sec. Where was I? Ah, yes…) I want the kind of stand-outs who can’t even get arrested for cruise ship and theme park jobs, to give them an excellent start to their groundwork. And I want to call the troupe something that thumbs its nose at all the Broadway “cookie cutter” types that held them back.

Thus — I hope — The Stepford Clones.

Don’t get me wrong; as with any new idea, there are bound to be issues. For example, that mission statement is going to attract a lot of self-aware character actors and types who only think they’re quirky. Indeed, it has the potential to become a breeding ground for a bunch of self-consciously “quirky” sociopaths. I’ve seen a few job spaces that prioritized getting performers on that kind of basis, and it was its own nightmare. There’s also a bit of worry about potentially offending people sought out for The Stepford Clones who don’t see themselves as that type. But as the proverb says, “You gotta break a few eggs to make an omelet.” Trial and error will hopefully yield a harvest.

Well, that’s all I have for now. Tune in soon for my next post-pandemic plan!