This Can't Be Broccoli

I was trying to formulate why exactly this Albee situation bothers me so much, aside from the fact that it’s just pure insanity to have a dead playwright’s estate not only make money on that person’s work after they’re dead (Yes, I’m aware this is how estates work, but I still find it ludicrous)—but to also assert how a playwright would have felt about the casting of a particular production on the basis that they’re somehow “protecting” the work. Aside from all that—what bothers me is this: Why are we discussing “believability” when it comes to casting in theater? When you walk into a theater, aren’t you asked to suspend disbelief?   Aren’t you asked to look at half a kitchen and pretend it’s a full kitchen that’s attached to a house that sits in a neighborhood somewhere? When you see a production of “King Lear” and it’s set in a supermarket and everyone is wearing uniforms, aren’t you being asked to believe in the duality of what the text says and what the producti

The students in my teen writing class told me I needed to write something inspirational for them, because a few are graduating this year. “But Mr. B, make it funny, too.” “Like a graduation speech.” “But funny.” “Yeah, do it like you would do a graduation speech.” “But not weird.” “Yeah, don’t be weird about it.” Well—I gave it my best shot. “To the Children, or Everything I’m Still Doing Wrong That Maybe You Won’t: Wisdom, Humor, and Random Notes from Someone Who Has No Business Giving Advice to Anyone” Don’t get mad at yourself for not being a morning person. Some of the best people on earth are night owls, and Imelda Marcos loved being up at dawn. (I don’t know if that last part is true, but I’m sure you can Google it.) When two people are talking about something, it’s rude to stop their conversation to ask them what they’re talking about. Just eavesdrop until you get enough context clues to piece most of it together, and then join in with a half-formed opinion. Be the friend who p