Recently by Derek Bontreger

Lenny is definitely one of the most volatile characters I have ever had the opportunity to play. He can be extremely abrasive and then--two seconds later--be almost sweet; his mood swings are very abrupt. Lenny definitely needs some hard-core therapy. It makes me wonder: Is his family in denial that he has a psychiatric problem? Could they not afford treatment? Did they figure they would just hand over the parenting to June when the time came for it? Did they ever expect him to be independent? There's no doubt in my mind that Lenny suffers from severe depression and has little self-esteem. He becomes extremely defensive when criticized often accuses others of thinking he's worthless. (I think he's bipolar.)

And, how does this show remind me of "The Jerry Springer Show" episode that I went to see? I explained myself a little bit at the "Marisol" table talk, but I see a lot of xenophobia in this play directed toward the lower class (not xenophobia from the playwright, but from the other characters within the play). I get the sense that the characters are afraid of the lower class (i.e., the homeless). The real fear sets in when the revolt starts and everybody loses her or his own identity and everybody is brought down to the same level. It's scary to think that beneath it all, we may be the same as the feared homeless person we pass on the street. When we lose everything and have to start from scratch, we all feel equally lost. This xenophobia is the same thing that fuels the popularity of shows like "Jerry Springer." This is a show where we can lightheartedly watch to reinforce the fact that we are "above" the lower class. We can laugh that they are dancing around like trained monkeys. It's a symptom of a sick society that I think is one of the many things that "Marisol" is trying to warn us about. That show is attempting to build up a wall that this show is attempting to tear down.

Cassie and I have something in common in when it comes to preparing for a role: The mirror becomes a best friend. I can spend hours in front of the mirror trying out new ways of talking, trying to convince myself that it is another person's image I'm seeing reflected, and running lines. The whole process can be fun and irritating; I find myself coming up with new ideas and not being able to break out of old habits. Lenny is an amazing character and, while I definitely have not seen him in the mirror yet, I am having fun playing around with different ideas.

There is always a sense of excitement when starting to work on a new character, and this one is no different. In fact, after reading through the play again by myself, I set down the script and had a very strong reaction of excitement/horror. Lenny intimidates me. I am terribly excited to bring this character to life and (at the same time) horrified to tap into these new ways of expressing myself onstage.

This may sound absurd. Why would I be horrified to do what I enjoy doing? I ran into a high school friend at the library this past week and told her I was involved with a new play. She knew I had been involved with many shows before and asked, "Do you love acting?" I responded, "Yeah, I think I do. It terrifies me, though." She got a shocked/ecstatic expression on her face and replied, "I think that's GREAT! I think that shows you're doing what you're supposed to be doing!" She was there to do research as well; she was writing a sermon for her church. She explained that that's the exact same reaction she has with writing sermons. It was a validation to both of us that we were on the right track. It was a good day at the library. (It is true that each new performance I do scares me to no end, but I keep coming back for me.)

Well, I was more long-winded than I intended, so I will save why I think Lenny should be highly medicated and why the theme of the play reminded me of the episode of "The Jerry Springer Show" that I attended.

("Gee! That was a weird cliffhanger! ... And did he just compare José Rivera with Jerry Springer?")