Monday, June 6, 2011

It's a Radio Show by Vincent Delaney



Phone call from Leslie. It’s a radio show. With a band. In a brand new theatre. Are you in?

Modulated panic. Keep saying yes, maybe you’ll figure out if you can actually do this. Radio? Never tried. I think of Orson Welles, campy sound effects, doors creaking. Does anyone listen to this stuff anymore? I think of NPR, This American Life, that feeling that you’re nodding off behind the wheel. Beaten to a pulp by progressive blandness.

How will this thing work? It’s 2011.

First writers’ meeting. In a bar, of course. Happy hour. Playwrights know where the cheap liquor flows. What gets said? Can’t really recall, but I remember the personalities, the voices, the excitement. LA TheatreWorks? No way. Old school homage? No freaking way.

Elizabeth, Scot, Paul, talking a mile a minute. Everyone has their idea already, or a script finished, or looks like they’re going to have it finished by the third round of drinks.

Maybe if I keep them here long enough they’ll drop an extra storyline in my lap.

I’m deep into my Guinness, it’s a raucous after work crowd, herds of suits and ties and then there’s us, sprawled in the front corner, getting louder. I’m looking out at corporate types getting soaked by the 6pm spring rain, and it seems utterly natural to say sure, give me two weeks and I’ll send the draft.

What did I just say?

Driving home, thinking about narration. The voice of the story teller. How intimate, how much we’re at the mercy of that voice. How most of the time that voice lulls us, makes us too comfortable.

I am a sick man. I am a spiteful man. I am an unattractive man.


The first line of Notes From Underground, Dostoyevsky. No idea why it comes to me. I read it in college, maybe. But that line is there, it’s sticking, and I’m thinking about narration, uncomfortable narration. Train wreck narration.

Thinking about a voice that’s so odd and specific and self aware, invading that comfortable NPR space on the drive home, drawing us in to something wildly comic and dangerous. What is it about that voice?

Seems like a place to start.


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Monday, June 20th, ONE NIGHT ONLY...SANDBOX RADIO Live! An evening of new works written specifically for the radio by Scot Augustson, Vincent Delaney, Elizabeth Heffron, Chuck Leggett, Anita Montgomery, and Paul Mullin; new music from the Sandbox Radio Band led by Jose Gonzales, conceived and directed by Leslie Law, performed live by members of the Sandbox Artists Collective (and some special guests!)- all recorded in front of you, our "studio" audience, for future podcast. Don't miss being a part of the inaugural episode of this exciting quarterly event!

Free Admission, with donations to the Sandbox Artists Collective gratefully accepted. Make your reservation (its free!) at:
http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/179982

Doors open at 7:30 with live music, show starts at 8:00pm, Reception to follow

For more about the Sandbox Artists Collective, visit
http://www.thesandboxac.org/

1 comment:

  1. "Does anyone listen to this stuff anymore?" Yes, they do. Check out BBC Radio 4. I think a good chunk of their programming is radio dramas. It's great stuff. It's my favorite radio station -- it's what American radio should be.

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