Ever since I started piggybacking off of my roommate’s Netflix subscription, it’s been all about the documentaries for me. I think that both Tim and I are attracted to stories that make us go “WHAT!? THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENS!?” – and documentaries tend to be a great source for that. Then there’s an added benefit: as opposed to reading about a situation, if you’re watching a film, you’re visually placed right in the middle of it — and that’s been helpful in terms of more easily being able to write clear characters who feel “alive.” Also because the docs I end up watching are less narrative and more “interviews/general topic” based, there tends to be a lot of room for us to create an original story within the general context of something that actually happened.
Tim and I have three new projects that we’re really working on right now and we’d love to have really good drafts of at least two of them (and hopefully all three) over the course of the next year. We’re also in the process of trying to get our last show into production, so it’d be great if that happened as well.
Teaching is a funny thing for me. I’ve done it in a few different contexts and it’s either completely invigorating, or it makes me feel like the most incompetent person ever. I think when the kids are old enough I like it (5th grade and up?) – but when they get too young it becomes a bit of a Kindergarten Cop situation with kids rolling around on the floor and me not quite knowing how to deal with that.
It’s sort of hard to imagine, but I think if I wasn’t in theater I’d love to be making really sleazy political ads – but for a good cause. I’d want to be responsible for really negative, sensationalistic advertising that finally got people serious about climate change, healthcare, civil rights etc. I guess I’m sort of a product over process person – and it’s probably a good thing that I’m not in politics.
Oh god! Is that something you have to decide? When’s the deadline?
I guess if I ran out of things I wanted to say. But I always have things to say. It’s what makes me intolerable at parties.
Bonus Question: How do you measure, measure a year?
In the number of nights spent at Marie’s Crisis when I’m drunk enough to start shouting the “Oh you’ve got to, you’ve got to, remember the love!” descant over the final chorus of that song.