Pondering the Movie & "Trudeau"

This is the paper vest and (real old) shirt of 
The Great Lorangini, a sleight-of-hand artiste.
It is entirely held together with pins at this stage 
and far, far from complete. One has to share.

Voilà, his cape. That's his name in is on his cape.
Yours truly glued each sequin on, one at a time. 
Do you know how long sequins go back in history?
FOREVER!

Des détails and an unfinished edge. The cape 
is a long way from done. I make the cards on 
the computer and print them on bond paper 
and sew them on. I may glue the rest.

His gloves are under Lady Ferret's parasol.
They are disposable reinforced paper
painters' gloves.

Why am I enjoying pursuing the movie deal? Why is the story of my screenplay so interesting to others? I think friends are as excited about my movie experience as they were when I built the theatre at Presentation House. Friends are also pretty positive and encouraging to my face as they must be. 

What is so ridiculously interesting about movies to everyone? Perhaps it is because they are cultural keystones.

When I was a kid in high school, The Ed Sullivan Show, Life Magazine and National Geographic were the central cultural keystones of my peers of the post-war generation. And for us, The Ed Sullivan Show was supreme. We would assemble Monday morning to discuss our universal Sunday night experience—seeing The Beatles or The Mamas and Papas on The Ed Sullivan Show.

Now the broadcast world is fractionalized; now movies give us our more universal experiences—the blockbuster. My interest in seeing my screenplay become a (teenie weenie) movie right now is largely for the experience of learning the writer’s role. It’s also fun to have something interesting to say when friends ask, “What are you up to?” to be honest. 

I’m going to say that again: My interest in seeing my screenplay become a movie right now is largely for the experience of learning the writer’s role. Why? It’s because I am the writer that I am “at the table” having my experience. And it is the only reason; the fact that the movie is about me is irrelevant. If I’d written a movie about your life, I’d still be at the table, not you.

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Say the word “June” and only lovely images come to mind: sunshine and brightness, colour and warmth, happiness and long days. “The lazy, hazy crazy days of summer,” is what the song said. It’s a great phrase. So June is a great time for me to be doing my Trudeau show at Presentation House. I love the thought of walking the long way over the bridge to work some days and coming out in that wonderful warm solstice crepuscule so late in our day at 49° north latitude.

I am going to love being warm in rehearsal and through the run of the show. And I think my audiences will, like me, be feeling that lazy, hazy crazy wonderfulness of summer. I think there are going to be costume problems I will somehow solve—especially if we sweat. But we’ll spritz them with water and vinegar each night. And there will be other challenges, but we'll be good. I am confident.

Two weeks of rehearsals, then two weeks of performances and only the briefest of moments for technical rehearsals before the only preview audience. I can do this. The weirdest thing is going to be going home at nights on the Seabus/bus. It’s just a weird nightly anti-climax, but some nights I will be able to get rides home. My nightmare: going home one night on the Seabus and there being someone on it who saw the show who wants to talk.