The Secret of Gravethwait Manor: Why Haven't You Seen It?

Over the summer the theater company to which I belong, Fearless Comedy Productions, developed a play for the Pre-Christmas season (a.k.a. Halloween). From what I remember about the planning meetings in the past months, the goal was to produce a family-friendly, spooky-fun show. For our first FCP-original presentation, it had to be exciting, fresh, and (duh) funny.

I saw the show this past Sunday. I like plays in the middle of their run; the actors have become comfortable with their roles, yet nobody seems exhausted or bored with the dialogue. The promo copy says: "When Iris, Troy, and Kevin, the eager team of ghost hunters at Ghost Grabbers, LLC, get a call from the residents of the 500-year old Gravethwait Manor, they are sure to be on the verge of discovering the center of the spirit world in the Upper Midwest. But by helping to catch the “ghosts” that haunt Count Gravethwait and his lovely wife Lilly, our heroes may have bitten off more than they can chew…"


What you actually watch: A parody of paranormal investigators bumble their way through a sinister plan created by the Count and Lilly, who are themselves bumbling through the Ghost Grabbers' technologically advanced snipe-hunt. Stuffed full of references to pop-culture, reality shows, vampire fiction, traditional ghost stories, and our favorite four phantom-tamers, "Gravethwait" has a wry sense of play that makes it a show entertaining for viewers of all ages.


My boyfriend came with me, newly acquainted with my social circle and theatrical proclivities. I considered him the closest representation of "the general public audience", and I do so delight in introducing him to nerdy and hilarious things. Also sitting in our row was Josh Nite, co-creator of the online RPG Kingdom of Loathing. Who happened to write The Secret of Gravethwait Manor, by the way, NBD.

LOL.

BBQ.

SOS.

I digress. Sitting between Josh and I, blocking me from the curmudgeonly glory of Mr. Skully, a co-member of FCP, and longtime Vilifier, my friend Matt Allex. He is really of no importance in this entry, except to mention that he brought his young son along to see this "family" show. While we waited for the show to begin, The Boy and I observed on the signage pre-set on stage which he initially read as "Ghost Rabbers" ("one capital "G" for two words). We decided that a "ghost rabber" is the restless spirit of a dead bunny. The show hasn't even started yet, and it's still inspiring creativity in the children! The show is directed by Courtney McClean, a comedian and musician well versed in improv, stand up, and double entendres. Courtney has a keen eye for physical comedy and a solid experience base in comedy on stage. I swear I was not paid or compensated in any way to say this, but my opinion is that Courtney was the perfect choice as director for such a play.

The playbill listed 11 scenes. Uff-da, right?  Not actually a problem--each scene is a new location. Minimal props allowed for quick scene changes, smooth and natural as a storyteller pausing to draw a breath between narratives. The pacing of the story kept a steady pace, and the actors easily picked the energy back up after pausing for laughter. And there were a lot of pauses for laughter. I'm not talking about the Minnesotan, susurrus of amusement--full-on belly laughs were happening. The Boy laughed, the boyfriend laughed, Matt laughed (but he has head trauma), even the writer laughed (which is amazing). Much like other creative people, writers can be harshly critical of their own work. Mr. Skully was giggling along with the rest of us, enjoying the production he helped create.

The actors. I don't know if the actors will be relieved or disappointed that I'm not going to write much about them. I've already taken 2 hours of my morning to write this and have exhausted my store of spectacular descriptives for this humorous performance. I'd rather encourage everyone who reads this entry just go watch them yourselves, because no review can convey what they bring to this show. There's just the right amount of collective excitement, precision, and enthusiasm for their roles that helps the story move along smoothly and fleshes out each character. Voice and body language were used deftly to develop each character, balancing the good, the evil, and the weird within all of them. By they way, the well-honed and talented cast are:

Iris - Jill Iverson
Kevin - Ron Lamprecht
Troy - Ted Femrite
Otto - Bob Alberti
Lily - Cynthia Uhrich

To wrap up: Gravethwait is fucking hilarious. I was in an audience with a wide range of ages and tastes, yet laughter and entertainment were ubiquitous. There was even gasping for air (well, it was me, but c'mon!). Suzie Becker the Stage Manager ran things like a boss (and I heard she is super sexy also). The show only has two more performances, on Halloween and All Saints' Day. The Bryant Lake Bowl Theater serves a full bar and menu, meaning The Secret of Gravethwait Manor is the perfect start to an evening of monster parties, thrill-seeking, and men wearing females' inappropriately sexy costumes.

The Secret of Gravethwait Manor
October 31st - November 1st, 7:00pm
Bryant Lake Bowl Theater
810 W. Lake Street, Minneapolis 
$12 tickets in advance or with your Fringe button or CONvergence badge
$15 tickets at the door, but you run the risk of not getting a seat, so why wouldn't you just buy them online at least 24 hours ahead of showtime

Name-dropping props to: 
Horror Show Hotdog Podcast, KOL (Nite)
Apropos of Nothing Podcast, HSHotdog (Allex)
Courtney McClean and the Dirty Curls (McClean)
Fearless Comedy Productions (the rest of us)

Disclaimer: I absolutely was not compensated in any way to write this. In truth, I hold my friends, co-members, and co-actors to higher standards in regards to performance. So I was genuinely impressed and excited. Buy your tickets. Now.

James's Secret--a short fiction

Jimmy squeezed through the attic crawlspace, coming back fifteen years later into the dusty cavities of the rooftops. The smell was familiar, the dust was familiar. Jimmy sneezed several times to clear both from his nose. His eyes watered, but through the film he was already searching for the spot.

He was certain (well, certain as one can be of a fifteen year old memory) that his treasure-spot had not been discovered.  He would have heard about it. People would have come to him, with questions--or accusations. In the musty dark his gaze settled on a slightly darker area cut into the far attic wall. Jimmy was on all fours, he bent his arms and craned his neck to see deeper into the treasure-spot he had crookedly cut into the wall seventeen years ago.

Before.

Jimmy stared into the hole. It was still there. It blinked first.

Look Thou to the Heavens!

Festival Friday. It's always a strange day; skeleton cast, closed shops, school children roam free like uniformed, little squealing beasts. After our educational presentation about the masks of commedia dell'arte dispensed to exactly six people, I had arranged to change into street clothes and photograph on site.

In tandem, I tailed one of our most oft-harassed characters; who does not have the advantages of speaking or facial expressions. Last year my troupe had to chase off a pack of wild things playing "let's-kick-the-person-with-no-peripheral-vision". This year, I told my cast member I would be watching and guarding, no argument. As the character traveled around the village, I would have the chance to capture interesting shots on the way. So I did, and my colleague survived unscathed (although I think someone snuck in an ass-grab as they passed).

Following is a compilation of the roof decorations of various structures around the MN Renaissance Festival. I liked using my telescope lens to view them up close, as they go unnoticed by the dusty crowds below them. Image and marketing copyrights belong to MNRF.

Weather vane atop the Renaissance Museum and pub.

Unicorn impaled above a jewelry shop and pub.

Sassy fairy tempts you to buy glittery hair-thingies.

Jousting knight weather vane crowns a rooftop of a glass booth and pub.

On the same booth and pub, a dragon. Perhaps hiding from the knight.

Upper level of a crafter booth and pub.

Gable with myriad-colored shingles. Above the Greek food booth and pub.

Forbidden upper level of the Pavilion. And pub.

This knot inspired the whole series. Texture, symmetry, and utility all played parts.
A hanging sign for the Ice Cream booth and pub.

I bet this gable is painted *especially* for people to notice. I love nerds.

A tiny dragon issues forth above a leather shop and pub.

This crest of indeterminable provenance. Posted above a gypsy scarf shop and pub.

One of the many peaks of Bad Manor and pub.

A flower bed near the door--does a tiny gnome live above this crafter booth and pub?

Gargoyle on a pedestal. 

Upper levels of Bakery Stage and knife-throwing booth and pub. 

A rather odd species of booby has nested in the eaves. 

Interior, exterior, and water wheel at the Paper-Making establishment and pub.

Hand-laid mosaic on the upper level of a glass booth and pub.

The darkened upper level of a garden ornament shop and pub.

An inspiring spire atop a children's costume shop and pub.

Slightly washed-out view of the cupola above the wooden sword booth.
...there's no pub, because who would sell mead in a place filled with weapons?!
That's dumb.

Tour Around Haus Manna

In trying to run down my camera's battery so I could fully charge it for a day of shooting,
I photographed things around my house that I thought were neat:

Morrigan: the lazy-ass tortie.

My cherished Nosferatu necklace, the figure embedded in smoky resin. 

Black Velvet Jesus in the Garden. Painted by mom, frame made by dad. Paint-by-numbers.
I grew up with this painting always around. Love the visual & tactile aspects. I can pet Jesus!
I kinda hope it becomes legend, and my mom gets a cult following of vintage velvet painting snobs.

Miniature replica of Tutankhamen's sarcophagus. There's actually a tiny, gauze-wrapped mummy inside!

Rooster ewer. Really not much more to say.

Artist's dummy belonging to Other Manna. I mean to sew a model dress over it. Someday.

This image basically sums up the existence of Spaz; he's just a huge butthole.

Lights stapled to our porch. Hey, this is so whimsicle, I could sell it on Etsy now.

Spooky tornado dome belonging to the Other Manna. Tiny paper bats swirl all about!

A sprout photo from this spring. Back when I was enamored with bringing life from the ground. Now, eff that shit.

Not shown: dirty dishes in the sink, floors gritty with cat litter, and thread-balls from my workspace. I'll cover that in the next post (said no Manna, ever).

Rambling Ren Fest Recollections

Alliteration is clever.

Top Ten List of Bestest Things That Happened Last Weekend

10. Dregs in the Dark show--now with 45% more liquor! The band plays an all-request after-hours show for cast & crew. Maggie & Mike Heck soak the audience with booze-laced jello and pudding shots.

9. Learned a new dirty joke from ladies at the Mead Social. These women knew how to rock a mead social. Ask me about "the Southern ladies". 

8. A friend lost a sweater with great sentimental value 2 weeks ago. This weekend it returned. 

7. Babybel cheese red wax wrappers make good clown noses. Taught this to a 4-year old wizard in what was probably my first one-on-one interaction with a child on street.

6. Ate a cinnamon roll with progressively more and more frosting getting on my face. Wound up with massive sugar high. I scared the Welshman.

5. Roma & Captain Clifton give me money for a second cinnamon roll. Chaos ensues.

4. For the first time, I didn't feel like crawling into a hole and dying after bombing a Vil Ten insult. I bomb quite often, but this is the first time I bounced and recovered.

3. Free-play with commedia masks. The Lord High Sheriff dueled Capitano for Isabella's honor, Arlecchino and Columbina fought, Isabella threw a tantrum. These things may or may not be related.

2. Lots of comforting, sincere hugs from many cherished friends. When I make a public statement about needing hugs, I really need hugs.

And the number one spot for Bestest Things That Happened Last Weekend goes to...

1. Organized by the Original Manna, my friends raised enough money to replace my leather mug stolen the weekend before last. More than enough, because I got to pick out a cork-top lid, too. People had been passing money to Manna right under my nose, and I never picked up on it because I can't fathom being treated as special by so many friends. Total astonishment.

I give very heartfelt thanks to everyone who donated money, everyone who stopped to give me a hug, and everyone who looked into my face to sincerely ask how I was doing. I felt True Love.

The Funny.

There is some dark stuff in this post. There is also some lovely stuff. I hope it balances out.

Sometime late Sunday night or early Monday morning, Robin Williams ended his life. Something was happening to him where he felt there was no better alternative than to die. All the things that could be listed as good parts of his life, career, and reputation didn't fucking matter. For Robin, they probably hadn't mattered in a while. Depression lied to him and convinced him there was no way out of the Screaming Dark, no way but one.

No, I didn't know him. I've never met him, corresponded with him, nor have I any reason to grieve his death over the loss of life statistically happening constantly around the planet.

Still, I grieve.

I can't remember the first time I saw a Robin Williams film, or if I saw him as Mork or doing stand-up, he has always been a ubiquitous, hilarious component of my childhood. My brother and I watched a lot of movies on the Friday nights during Mom's weekend to have us. As much as we bickered about everything else in life, we could always find a comedy that we both wanted to see. So we watched "Hook". Then we'd watch it again first thing Saturday morning.

Slapstick and sword fights? Yes please.

We saw "Toys". It was entertaining enough for kids, sure, but a lot of the absurdity went over our heads. That's why I love watching it now, though; discovering jokes I was too young to comprehend.

Half the time I couldn't even pick up on the plot.

Seeing the film, "Jack", was an absolute--solely because of the name of the lead actor. The scene of Jack exploring in the yard is a brilliant piece of acting. Watching Robin act the child made me realize how astoundingly talented he was. Robin gave Jack wonder, gentle curiosity, and sheer delight that shines in happy children. The movie was not a comedy, but how could a person not be captivated by a character such as Jack?

Ugh. The feels! All the feels!

Becoming a fan of black comedy was like arriving at a great party where I knew everyone and felt completely comfortable. Plus Robin Williams was there. "Death to Smoochy" was this roller coaster ride of hilarity and piteousness. An awkward vignette of the shiny & new replacing the worn & old plays out in the context of children's television entertainment. Naughty things and bad words happening in a "sunshine zone" seemed refreshing, relevant, and perfectly wry.

It's a thin line between "wacky" and "psycho".

I didn't care for the whole Heaven and Hell thing going on in "What Dreams May Come", but I loved the idea that everyone's paradise and punishment is formed by their self. Another dramatic film where Robin's performance inspires both delight and devastation. The pain of the characters really is sourced from the depths of the actors. 

An oil-painted world really is the best heaven, though.

I can't imagine the absolute desolation his family & friends feel now. I can't even begin to conceive how Robin himself felt on the Last Day, nor on the days, weeks, and months preceding. This was a man who, even though he loved his family, career, and comedy, couldn't manage to stay alive one more day.

...

Within all that craziness, the energy, the hilarity, the imagination, and the inspiration the real Robin sits in the center of it all--Prospero conjuring sprites and storms. He was hurting and couldn't reach out for help. That's something a lot (a LOT) of people recognize in themselves, and losing yet another soul to the Screaming Dark is demoralizing. Considering so many people have been that close to killing themselves, to have been so entirely overwhelmed with even just the natural state of existence, it is terrifying.

 So now I grieve. My heart is broken because a truly brilliant, funny, kind man suffered and succumbed to an insidious disease that I fight and help my friends fight every day. It shouldn't have to be like this. But it is like this. I will never never never give up. There is a hole in the world where a dazzling, gentle, hairy, genius actor should be, and a deep deficit of comedy potential. I can think of nothing better than to always always try to make up for that deficit with levity, wackiness, hijinks, and dick jokes.

That's how I feel. My Facebook feed is choked with people expressing their concern, their sadness, and their shock at the suicide of Robin Williams. I will not apologize for adding one more missive to the queue.

And if you don't like it, why don't you go suck on a dead dog's nose.

Frosted Goofball. Om nom nom.

Lots of Big Words Are In Here.

My previous entry discoursed on how fucked up snack-food flavor combinations are. My example being those little peanut-butter & cheese-flavored crackers of sin you can get from a vending machine.

When asked, a number of my cherished readers also divulged in their strange, food-combo guilty pleasures (Names have been changed to protect my whereabouts on the night in question):


Mrs. Sassy-pants- "I get a small mac & cheese with meatballs and a side of pot sticker sauce at Noodles and Co...I dip the meatballs in the sauce, then pour it over the pasta to finish it. It's more dinner than snack...a guilty, weird, pleasure." (Damn, lady. You are a rockstar of weird foodstuffs. I tip my hat to you.)

Tiny elf woman- Peanut butter on apples. (Newsflash: this is a perfectly acceptable and non weird way to consume peanut butter. I still included it because peanut butter.)

Distant pen-clown- Jelly on grilled cheese. (I fully support this one, for the same reasons that jelly sammiches dipped in chicken noodle soup are amazing.)

Mad Max Jr.- Grilled peanut butter and bacon. (How, in my tedious 32 years on this world, did I never discover this?! What promises did you make to some arcane, dark god to receive the knowledge of such a combination?!)

Original Manna- Grilled cheese with ketchup. (Is this an east-coast thing, you weirdo?)

***Cheers, everyone. You have successfully lived up to my expectations of having unusual friends.***

Now on to the actual blog post: 

...eh, fuck it. I'm hungry now.

Snacks Are Weird.

I have been wondering about snacks for a while. I was probably drunk at the time, but I suddenly realized that people mix food flavors in the most unnatural, horrifying, delicious ways. Completely blew my whiskey-soaked little mind.

First example: Peanut butter & cheese cracker sandwiches =/= cheddar with a peanut butter schmear.

It's very difficult to make peanut butter NOT look like poo.

If you haven't eaten these, you've at least seen them in numerous vending machines, glowing sickly orange in the night-florescence of highway motels, summer camp, and college campuses. Four little, dry squares of cheese-flavored crackers & peanut butter. The salty-sweet, crumbly-gooey magical combination guarantees the snack's continued distribution to rest stops and kindergarteners around the country. Take the basic flavors, though; peanut butter and....cheese? How much rum was drunk to make that sound like a good idea?

...I still love those cracker sammiches, though.

Tell me, my cherished readers: What strange food combination do you snack on? Do you have a gustatory guilty pleasure do you harbor?