Jitterati Casting Call

Do you know any actors who vaguely resemble the characters from Jitterati? Are they available next week to film a short pilot?

THE PROJECT: The pilot is a “mobisode”, a two-minute long digital short. It’s going to be a very simple setup, shot in a single Wellington location for a few hours sometime between Tuesday June 8th and Thursday June 10th. Some voiceovers will also be recorded. The footage will be taken up to Auckland at the end of the week for a Script to Screen workshop, and the finished product will be shown to senior production executives with a view to developing it into a series. The budget is approximately $0, but there may be free coffee and the opportunity to show off to Auckland TV people.

THE ACTORS: We need three articulate actors who look like the Jitterati characters…

Jaimee is a red-haired librarian who doesn’t play well with others. Nothing comes easily to her. She is immensely capable, yet thwarted at every turn by circumstance and other people’s stupidity. She is idealistic and pragmatic, and much of her wit is employed in razor-sharp putdowns. She dislikes being recognised at parties as “that librarian chick”, and tends to attract obsessive males who think they know her because she checks out their books. She is grumpy, witty and cynical.

Debbie is either a PA or in PR – depending on whichever pays more at the time. She is the only one of the group working in an office and making a decent living, although she tends to blow it on Matterhorn cocktails. She is blonde and happy, with an essential optimism and purity of spirit that she knows is extremely annoying to Jaimee.

Tony is a semi-employed Maori actor. The last decent break he got was as a Lord of the Rings extra. His on-stage acting projects are doomed by the pretentiousness of his collaborators, and his roles in TV ads are humiliating. His career has been overshadowed by that of a rival who nicked his crucial line in King Kong and subsequently looks set to become a huge Cliff Curtis-like star. He was at school with Jaimee, who sympathises with him to a certain extent, but wishes he would get over it and get a job as a waiter.

If you know any actors who meet this criteria, or if you’d like to help out, please contact me ASAP. It should be fun and not too hard.

Writing in uncomfortable places

You’d think holding a writing meeting in the Southern Cross on a rainy, freezing Friday night, when every man and their poodle are determined to get as pissed as possible on handles (!) would be disastrous, but it actually worked really well. I have most of the pilot script, and a number of strong ideas for future episodes, if we get that lucky. I even got home in time to watch the second episode of Radiradirah.

Often it’s unfair to judge comedies by their first episodes, or even first seasons. Many series develop over time. Others are obviously never going to develop much, especially if their creators are throttling things back to make them more palatable. Disappointingly, Radiradirah seem to have loaded their good stuff into the first episode. Apart from FOT and Guy Capper’s excellent sheep animation The Pen, the second episode was very, very ordinary, which would be okay (it’s not actually terrible, despite a lot of kneejerk online comments) if not for the calibre of the participants. Why have these talented, talented people made such an unadventurous programme? We know what they can achieve, it’s actually insulting to see them playing it safe, as though they think a mass audience can’t take anything which isn’t blindingly obvious. It’s too juvenile for adults, but at the same time there’s quite a lot of swearing – so who is it for?

Writing!

An exhausting but productive writing session for a digital workshop submission with Amy at the Southern Cross. For some reason on Tuesday nights it’s full of writers, including one rather mournful fauxhemian who set himself up in a corner with his iBook and was obviously dying for someone to ask about his screenplay.

By coincidence award-winning writer Eli Kent was there as well – his play Thinning premieres at the same Young & Hungry season as FB:L4G, so we’ll see each other again in July.

Demo days

Ever tried writing a four-minute operetta in waltz-time for six singers which references a German drinking song, the theme from Blakes 7 and ‘You’re Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile’ from Annie without disturbing your sleeping flatmates? It’s bloody hard, I tell you.

NZ Comics Weekend approaches

NZ Comics Weekend is coming up in a fortnight. I’m thinking of reprinting the Jitterati book, which I promised to do last year after it sold out so quickly. I haven’t been asked to join the other NZ cartoonists at Armageddon, so I won’t bother.

I would’ve been more prepared, but I’ve concentrated on working on the creatively rewarding and financially lucrative FB:L4G instead of a slightly humiliating public event where I never sell as much as I anticipate. I might take out the pdf to Petone next week – the printer I used last time half-heartedly tried to pull a fast one on me, and was extremely annoyed when I called them on it.

Happy scripty goodness

Auckland needs the revised FB:L4G script for auditions this weekend, so I’ve just spent a happy 24 hours tweaking. The script is now six pages and 850 words shorter, with two new songs. Apparently many of the recalls are recent Toi Whakaari graduates, poor sausages.

The new scene below many read as utter bollocks, but the song is actually quite rousing:

Fitz is sitting behind the podium at the centre, flanked as usual by two of the Rabettes (Flopsy & Miffy) and Enderby. Banks and Brown are at either end, looking self-assured. Alex and Enderby watch from stage left.

FITZ: Well, isn’t this nice…
Mister Brown, come on down.
Mister Banks, join the ranks.
Both of you pull up a chair
Now, which of you wants to be mayor?

BROWN: I don’t understand…
BANKS: Why should we listen to you? You’re just a rabbit.

FITZ: I represent millions of votes
And all the power that denotes.
Without my share you don’t have a prayer,
So which of you wants to be mayor?

FITZ & RABETTES: Yes! Mayor, mayor, it’s great to be mayor!
Sitting around in a big leather chair!
Writing a bylaw in your underwear!
Everyone wants to be mayor!

BROWN: Well, if you put it that way…
BANKS: What’s the catch?

FITZ: Calicivirus disease
Infects us with poisonous fleas.
Liberate us from despair
And you’re probably going to be mayor.

FITZ & RABETTES: Yes! Mayor, mayor, it’s great to be mayor!
Sitting around in a big leather chair!
Writing a bylaw in your underwear!
Everyone wants to be mayor!

BROWN: You want us to ban rabbit calicivirus?
FITZ: You catch on fast, Len.
BANKS: But it’s already been banned!
FITZ: Doesn’t seem to have worked very well. People keep importing it. You never caught the farmers who released it in Cromwell. Or Hawkes Bay. (Significantly) Or that farm in Tauranga.

The two mayors look at each other.

BOTH: What farm in Tauranga?

Alex and Enderby wince. Fitz looks genuinely disappointed.

FITZ: I thought I could change things
I thought I could try
Rewriting the law so my people don’t die
Somehow I no longer care
Which of you wants to be mayor.

Fitz slumps, utterly miserable. Alex comforts her.

ALEX: Never mind, Fitz, you don’t need them! You could always stand for election yourself. (The bunnies perk up. Alex doesn’t notice.) Of course, you need to be a registered voter. (Fitz perks up further) And to live in the Auckland region. (Fitz perks up even further) And to be nominated by two other registered voters. (Fitz looks at Flopsy and then Miffy, who perk up as well) And a deposit. (Enderby pulls out a small fan of money. Alex finally realises what’s going on) I really wish I hadn’t said that.

FITZ: Mister Brown, please stand down.
Mister Banks, no thanks!
Don’t let the door hit your derriere.
It looks like I’m going to be mayor!
FITZ & RABETTES: Oh, mayor, mayor, it’s great to be mayor-
FLOPSY: Hello, Hare Mayor!
MIFFY: Haere mai, Hare Mayor!
FITZ & RABETTES: Brace yourselves for the first Super Hare Mayor!
Hey there!
Hey there, Hare Mayor!
Haere mai, Hare Mayor!
Hello, Super Mayor!

New FB:L4G songs

While waiting for FirstYearGate to reach a natural end, I’ve been finishing the Auckland rewrite of FB:L4G. I’ve slipped back ridiculously easily into writing for musical theatre. This is, of course, a tender love song:

FITZ: Well, Nukie, I… I guess we’ll have to say goodbye soon. You see, I have to drop you over Australia… (Her voice cracks) …and I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.

She moves downstage in a reverie and sings.

FITZ: The iridescent twinkling of your guidance system light,
Keeps me up at night…
I can’t help it,
I love nukes!

I thrill to your beryllium fissile core
Your fusion fuel just makes me want you more
How can it be wrong to love nuclear power?
I could sit and stare at your core for hours…

This high-yield strategic bomb left me agape.
And then there’s your shape!
I can’t help it,
I’m sorry, I can’t let you go!
Those Aussies don’t deserve you!
My darling…
I love nukes!

Fitz kisses the missile passionately and is immediately electrocuted. Lights down.

Playmarket & alcohol

I was invited to a Playmarket function today, and it was surprising who turned up. I thought there’d be more of the twenty-something theatre crowd I knew a few years ago, but it was mostly directors and programme managers. You know, the people actually in charge. So, it was nice to be asked. The canapes were of a superior quality as well.

On my way down I passed iridescent moulting strips from a Sevens costume. These first appeared in Plunket St and continued until Vic, like Hansel & Gretel but with fabric instead of breadcrumbs. Now, the Sevens is a good thing, but it’s still depressing to see paralytically drunk people downtown at 2pm. Is it me, or is the average Kiwi bloke just three drinks away from putting on a dress?

Books • Plays • Painting

It was one of those exhausting days where I did a bunch of completely different creative things… only this time we’re talking about maintaining projects I started in 1992, 2001 and 2006 respectively. Somehow I’ve become the security guard of my own museum.

I took in a bunch of books to Graphic with the display stand and coffee. That is, I trudged in nice and early and discovered that I’d forgotten to bring the books. I walked back home and seriously considered just getting into bed and forgetting the whole thing, but then I remembered I had flat bills to pay… so I trudged in again and dropped off the books. Then I popped into Playmarket to discuss some of the contract niceties of Fitz Bunny: Lust for Glory (FB:L4G as I abbreviate it for convenience). Then I finally made it to Tasman St and spent a happy hour fixing my vet mural.

I’d brought in an anti-graffiti substance I got from the Council, which comes with gloves and an eye mask. It’s evil, evil stuff – I applied some to the graffiti hopefully and was surprised to see it eating through the paint, and then the 17-year old paint underneath it. An hour later with the original testpots and it was all fixed. It was hard matching the colours because it’s been under the sun for years, but I think it looks okay. Like the last time I fixed graffiti, I had to keep stopping because people wanted to tell me how much they loved the mural. I’m glad they assumed I was the original artist, and not the evil little dope who defaced it in the first place.

What laughs

I’m reading a book called Writing Comedy. It was only published in 1992, and yet every comedy writer it quotes on the back cover is now dead.

Tomorrow (Saturday) I’m going to watch an Indonesian shadow puppet performance (with the indomitable Pippa on gamelan) and then trot Helen around Rita Angus. What laughs we shall have.