My Fair Lazy - Jen Lancaster [38]
Stacey pauses the program we’re watching. “Um, specifically, it’s O’Neill’s version of a Greek tragedy, so it’s got all the classic elements, like anger and betrayal and lust. Eben—the son—suffers because he’s got an abusive father. Ephraim—the father—suffers because he’s so wrapped up in his own hubris that he can’t admit the world’s mocking him for what’s happening under his own nose. The father’s hot new young wife, Abbie, suffers because she’s sleeping with the son and lying about her baby’s parentage. Basically everyone’s miserable, and it’s completely awesome.”
“Is it modern? And does it take place in the South?” I ask. I have a penchant for stories about dysfunctional Southern families, likely stemming from my love of the North and South miniseries when I was in junior high school.
“Nope, it takes place in New England during the gold rush era. None of that matters so much because it’s a timeless story. Could take place in ancient Athens; could take place now in Atlanta. I can guarantee the acting will be superb.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“For starters, it stars Brian Dennehy.”
“Big Tom Callahan? Really? I guess I can’t see him onstage. I mean, come on, he only lasted twenty minutes in that movie.”
“Jen, he’s won Tony awards and studied drama at Yale. Just because you’ve only seen him in Tommy Boy doesn’t mean that’s all he’s done or is capable of doing.”
“Excellent point. I’m surprised, but now I remember how sad poor Chris Farley was when he died in Tommy Boy. I guess his acting must have been convincing because I totally teared up. I could see how Chris Farley’s wanting to honor him prompted him to travel cross-country with David Spade to sell auto parts to save the company. Yeah, I guess he could be okay.”
Drily, Stacey replies, “He’ll be relieved to hear it.”
“Hey, do you think David Spade will be there?” I mean, maybe they became friends during filming, right?
“My guess is no. But Carla Gugino stars as Abbie, and Pablo Schreiber is Eben. The Goodman always casts the most amazing actors.”
“Wait, Carla Gugino? From Son in Law? That’s so badass!”
Stacey looks suddenly exhausted as she winces and holds up her hand. “Before you ask, Pauly Shore probably won’t be there. If for some bizarre reason he is, you’ll get to meet him and all the other actors at the cast party.”
“NO WAY!” I may or may not shout this so loud that I shake the frames hanging on the wall behind us. Shoot, I’d have said yes to theater tickets years ago if I realized it would make me her plus-one at the after party.
I’ve seen Stacey’s scrapbooks from various productions and heard the stories about all the famous people she’s worked with. I’ve always been impressed, but Stacey says it’s no big deal because they’re just folks doing their jobs. She says most actors are regular people who come to work and then go home to enjoy their lives and spouses and friends. They aren’t out getting shitfaced at Hyde or Club Les Deux or throwing cell phones at their assistants or “accidentally” flashing their girly bits to the paparazzi.
I’m deeply disappointed to hear this.
The more Stacey fills me in on the details of this particular production, the more excited I get. I’m superpsyched about what I can learn from seeing a show in such an august theater by such a renowned playwright. This is exactly the sort of thing that’s going to make me better-rounded intellectually, and I’m eager for the personal growth opportunity it will afford.
Okay, that’s total bullshit.
I’m mostly jazzed to meet famous people.
“Are you worried I’m going to embarrass you with my nervous-talking thing?” I ask. Stacey was a firsthand witness to the slurring, sweating, and shouting spurred by my meeting a Top Chef winner recently, and she was just on a cable network.76 The second I come into contact with anyone who’s been on mah tee-vee, I turn into a complete moron. Whatever internal filter I possess77 switches off, and I end up spewing every bit of nonsensical blather that pops into my brain. As their level