Job-side Project casting call!

Jobsite Theater is holding auditions for the next Job-side Project, Short Comings 2009, this Sunday, May 3rd, starting at 4pm at The Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center's TECO Theater. Short Comings 2009 is the second annual evening of shorts. This year highlights Tampa directors.

Please submit a headshot and resume to acorley@jobsitetheater.org or deliver attention Ami Sallee Corley to the reception desk at the Patel Conservatory Entrance of TBPAC. Headshots/resumes must be received by 6pm on Friday, May 1st. You will be notified of your time slot by Saturday morning.

We are casting for 7 short plays to be performed June 13, 14 and 15 in the Shimbeg Playhouse at the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center.

If the show profits from ticket sales, all artist involved will get a percentage of the ticket sales as compensation.

Balancing blood: Ensemble vs Auditions

Last year I posted a list of helpful hints of sorts to prepare folks for our auditions.

Still, one of the major things that continues to come back around is the idea that we really don't cast outside our core, and that it might be a waste of time to show up since we may have already promised parts away to someone within the company.

First of all I suppose we have to define what "in the company" means. Jobsite has a body of 9 who artistically steward the company - myself and the 8 Artistic Associates, who are more generally referred to as "the board." There is also the group of artists working with us on the mainstage and within side projects, which can be anywhere from 20 to 35 people roughly from season to season, that we refer to as "the ensemble."

These two groups are both bypassed through the general round of "come do monologues" auditions and are eligible to go directly to callbacks based on who the individual directors would like to see.

Believe it or not, we do not work with back-alley deals on parts, and nor do we choose not to work with people outside of these groups for mainstage casting.

If we didn't want to have the general auditions to see new, fresh faces - we wouldn't have them.

We are loyal to our artists, we're not trying to cover that up. We want to function as an artist's company and we'd like one day to have an all-artist staff once we can afford to pay for those salaries.

Our mission statement speaks of creating an artistic home, of the collaboration of forms, and we are very much aiming for that. We realize this may appear off-putting for those coming in off the street. That it may look like a nepotistic system. That's simply not the case in all honesty.

Some of our reasons for this system:

• We want to nurture and support local talent. We place a premium on this. Even though we are not in the position to hire out of town, we want it engrained now that priority goes to those who've chosen to call this area home, and we want to help support and reward them for choosing to make this area more vibrant by their presence.
• We want to create better work. As artists work together, grow together and establish a vocabulary together the potential for greatness increases. You can't get that same level out of transiency, of starting over every production with new faces, by bringing people in who may or may not share the same values and vision you do. As an artist also has the freedom of an artistic home, their work is bound to improve on their own as well.
• We want to create opportunity. We know we can't right now pay our artists what they are worth, but we can provide them opportunity in the form of using our producing apparatus to help them with their own work as second stage efforts. We call these Job-side Projects. It may be a staged reading, or a one-person show or a minimally-mounted full production. We provide the space and most of the resources and the artist has the opportunity to do what they wish. As 2009 goes along we will have staged readings, a radio drama on WMNF, two different stand-up comedians testing new work, a NY-style cabaret piece launch and a night of shorts put together by local directors. All monies made on these nights goes directly back into the hands of the artist and thet get to have their work scene. This too will improve the quality of potential future mainstage work but also enriches the entire area and gives our artists another reason to stay here and to continue to experiment and refine.

So, yes, there is a lot of value in us working with an ensemble, and it's a system that we support 100%, but that does not mean you can't be cast coming in from the outside.

Every year we have those who leave the ensemble. Maybe they simply move out of area, maybe they have a baby or get a new job that's more demanding of their time. Maybe they just decide they need a break. Every year we look to grow our level of talent, in addition to finding new faces who might be able to replace the old. And as I've said before - every year there are people who come in off the street and take great parts in shows.

We want the best people for all the parts. Simple as that.

Of course casting is a giant balancing act as I went on about in that previous blog, but every one of us who directs is always excited about the prospects of new blood and all that it brings.

So the two notions can marry - commitment to an ensemble as well as hosting open auditions.

So if you're an actor out there reading this and are of the opinion that we just cast the same people over and over again, give our auditions a chance. We only ask that you come prepared and give it your all. Blow our doors off. We look forward to that actually.

Because I don't want people taking me too seriously.

I saw these photos today over at the gallery on JobsiteTheater.org that the awesome master of awesomemastery Shawn Paonessa put together and laughed out loud.

I needed that.










And I suppose the moral here is that fake hair (wigs, moustaches) and ugly dudes in drag is pretty funny, period.

What the hell do I want?

As I noted in my last blog post, I've been feeling a real push inside when it comes to this company. A push that's made me feel more demanding - of artistry, of commitment, of organization, of accountability - in regards to all facets of this company.

Again, it's not that I didn't think these things before, but in many ways I've often allowed myself to be very forgiving. Very forgiving in that sometimes we may bring those on who don't enjoy the education or experience that others might have and we might have different standards in those instances. Forgiving of our lack of resources in terms of cash on hand or what comes via sponsors and donors and how that directly effects our ability to produce. Forgiving that pretty much every one of us works at least two jobs. Forgiving that for the regular Joe, theater is not a cultural priority and therefore folks might not support things the way I'd like.

And sometime in this past year, I'm not sure if it's the time I've put in or what, I've just decided that enough is enough. If we don't hold ourselves up to a higher standard now - when will we? If we aren't pushing ourselves to the furthest reaches of our comfort zones, do we really ever expect to grow the way we want?

And truth is - we have to work our asses OFF at every available turn if we really want to turn things around with this art form. I'm not just talking about Jobsite, but all of us.

The audience doesn't care about next time when you think you'll do better, or that you just really want to get through this one bad day with this one bad audience or that you just didn't have the money or didn't spend the time to fix something.

During rehearsals for Inishmore, I told the cast one day during notes how far the show had come and that it was really shaping up to be good. But I noted that I'm not in this for "good," and that "good" just isn't good enough. There's a line between good and great, it's crisp and thick, and that if we're not pushing ourselves at every turn for great over good we're wasting our time and the time of the audience.

This isn't a hobby, this isn't just something to do at night to be social and have fun. This is ministry, this is service, this is change, this is healing, this is important. If all involved aren't on that same page, there is a problem.

We have to give people a reason to leave the house and spend money with us, and let's be fair - even our low cost tickets are more than what a lot of people would consider a good value in this economy. We can combat that with lower prices (which would only work to a point), and we can also combat that with making the experience more valuable. By being excellent with consistency. By giving people a reason to be excited. Let's be real, WICKED has a crazy-rabid fanbase - there's not much work involved in getting that show sold. We have to find the way to move people in that same fashion. At that point those people become the greatest marketers in the world for us, and we begin to grow into something more closely resembling what we want.

And what DO we want?

Some of it's always been right there, from the initial crypto-anarchic scribblings by Mike Caban and me when this sounded like a good idea to take a chance on:

The Jobsite Theater is dedicated to the creation of socially and politically relevant theater and the pursuit of performing it to the broadest possible audience. Jobsite has established and will continue to evolve a collective of like-minded artists, creating a supportive environment where artists of all disciplines may experiment, hone, and apply their skills in a professional laboratory environment.

Through all forms of theater – be it experimental, new plays, contemporary works or the classics – Jobsite hopes to inspire their community to become not just consumers, but true citizens.

The top and bottom unbolded parts are pretty well engrained. We're doing that. The middle bolded area is still looser than I would like it to be.

We set ourselves up as an artist's company, as an ensemble. I used companies like Ariane Mnouchkine's Theatre du Soliel (no relation to the Cirque), Chicago's Steppenwolf and from my direct educational experiences Gainesville's Hippodrome State Theater and the San Francisco Mime Troupe.

A commonality with all these companies is how they run as a collective. A company guided by art and artists and not outside boards and administrators who don't really know the craft they lord over.

In my perfect world? I get a good half-dozen people on an annual payroll in staff positions who are also artists in the next few years. I've always mutli-tasked as an administrator/actor/director/designer/marketer/PR guy/fundraiser/chief/cook/bottlw-washer. I'll do whatever is needed to get things done.

Off the top of my head I can also talk about Brian Smallheer, our Designer in Residence who is more than capable of annual work as Production Manager, who can work with facilities and assist us in setting tours. And who could probably make a full-time go of just designing and building 6 mainstages plus howevermany side projects a year.

Same could be said for Katrina Stevenson in her role as Costume Manager. She's a hell of a director, actor and designer and she could easily be put to work year round to manage a costume shop and likely would still have time to provide administrative support when needed (she's a hell of a board secretary).

Shawn Paonessa - gifted playwright, actor and director - also currently manages Jobsite's website and is the best technical writer/editor I know. I could easily have 40 hours of work a week for him.

Ami Corley, in addition to her artistic abilities is bery interested in education. Kari Goetz is a hell of a PR champion, audience development guru and hob-knobber extraordinaire.

I could keep going, but you get the idea, right? These are incredible artists who do important core work for this company and who deserve to just be paid for what they do. If I could employ every one of these Jobsite Artistic Associates and just give them one paycheck to worry about - I don't think any of them would balk at however many hats I asked them to wear.

Same goes for our mighty ensemble. If the funds were there that would be the pool to tap into when we need help building sets, manning tables, fundraising and so on.

We deserve it, and I feel I owe these people.

And could you imagine what we'd be capable of, how pure we'd produce at that point? It gets me salivating just to think about. And I refuse to accept that it can't be done.

Which brings me back to my demanding nature. If we want it, we have to show we deserve it - despite whatever we may be lacking right now that's holding us back.

It can't all be ticket sales. The answer is not just raising prices, because it wouldn't work that way. I think some of it needs to come from perhaps looking for more ways to actually earn money in the form of secondary stage efforts and a lot of it is going to have to come from beating feet - from finding those individuals and corporations who believe enough in the work we do to directly support it, and to get better at the granting process.

I realize it's not the best time to be asking any government for money, but we have to keep trying. I see too many other people out there who are getting money, we just have to find a way.

And we're going to do this on OUR terms. We'll do this and stay true to the work that excites us, that we want to produce and that we believe people want to see. We will do this by not comprimising who we are and who we serve.

I'm sure I could go back and start all over again and create a company here to pander to the ultra-wealthy or that would tug at the heart-strings of those handing out stacks of cash to bad shows about science benchmarks or forced didactic "social issue" work that someone believes is "worthy" - but if I'm going to totally go sell out I'd go do it in an industry that would at least buy me a bigger house and a new car.

So I continue to do what I do, what I know and what I believe in.

This dream can come true. It's just taking a bit more work and patience that I thought at a certain point.

And this is exactly why I feel such a push to not only step up my own game, but to make sure everyone else is, too.

Taking my lumps

This will probably not come as shocker to many, but I'm stubborn - which I'd prefer to just call tenacious (and I'm not even sure I want to know what others call it).

Small insight into me: my first grade teacher sent me home one day with a note, as I hand it to my mom I beam "She says I'm obstinate!" Even then, I knew. Sometimes though that can work as well against me as it can work for me.

Sometimes I need those close to me to lean a little harder back on me so that I always think big picture. We only know what we know, right? We work in a collective model because input, opinion and perspective can enrich what it is we do and discussion can make things better for the future. If we're not, we're truly wasting time.

A very close associate of mine let me know today that I might have unintentionally messed with morale in how I started hard-selling Inishmore midstream, citing all the financial implications and jumping in with both feet into a big fat mud puddle of begging after it seemed sales were going the way of the Dodo. That maybe my approach looked poorly on the artists involved. I can totally see that point in hindsight, even if it was the furthest thing from my intent.

Doesn't really matter though, if that's how I ended up making people feel, right? What's that about the road to hell being paved with good intentions?

I mean, I take all this really personally, so it would make sense if I'm doing so that I might communicate it with the same sense of passion and intensity to others, right?

This associate told me even if it was brought to my attention at the time I'd likely have done it anyway due to how critical it was that we move tickets and that since hyping the praise wasn't working that I wouldn't sit idly by and do nothing. This associate knows me well. Though to be fair to myself - I would have been open to suggestion.

That approach really represented my last-ditch effort - I tried hard to pitch the show accentuating the positive: indie-film-come-to-stage, epic bloodbath featuring maybe the coolest effects seen on stage in Tampa, a hilarious sexy feckin' thrill-ride. All that. Even when I was on my knees wringing my hands, I was still convinced of the show's merits and, I felt, made those clear.

Truth is, I was begging for the artists. Not because of them. I know I've talked a lot of how much I demanded of them and how well they delivered. How many hours they all worked and for what doesn't add up to very much money. I mean, they did just about everything I asked of them, got at least five sensational reviews and people left loving the show - what's not to be proud of?

"Breaking even" is never really the bar for me though - it's just the bare minimum. I want every seat of every show full and every added performance possible - because I want to reward that dedication, the hard work.

As I mentioned before, I don't have a problem bragging on success and it felt to me like maybe it's only fair to be as equally honest when we struggle. Particularly when all I ever heard from people was how we had to be making bank and sold out every night when that wasn't at all the case.

Was I panicking a bit when it looked like the show was likely going to lose money? You bet your bippy. Yes, I was also simultaneously baffled and angry that we had such an avalanche of great press in every conceivable form and yet it wasn't selling tickets. I was getting grouchy about people saying for weeks they'd be coming over and over, but I'd never see them there.

Maybe sometimes shit just happens. Maybe the recession finally hit us. Maybe we loved the idea of the show more than the public did - after all we learned after the fact the show was only doing 60% in NYC, and we did 80% overall, which sounds like a success to me. And maybe honesty on a public blog sometimes is too honest when I'm not thinking of everyone, of the entire big picture. I'm still learning where those boundaries may be.

Something about the past few months just leaves me feeling so demanding, which isn't solely a bad thing. I only really note it because it's what I've always felt but haven't always communicated or necessarily demanded out in the open. I'm still adjusting.

I'm demanding of myself, of the artists around me, of the media, of that part of the populus that deems themselves arts supporters, of those who claim that the arts here or that this area in general has nothing to offer them.

I'm demanding because I love what I do more than anything, basically, and because I don't really believe in doing anything half-heartedly. I hold myself, my colleagues and the general citizenry up to the same set of high standards. I do this because I don't know how to do anything else, or if I do know I think it would in the end just be a waste of my time.

My passion, my demanding nature, should probably be better tempered sometimes. This is a lesson to learn. Else my passion for what I do come off as elitist to outsiders. Else my anger over a lack of response come off as contempt for those same people who I'm trying to bring in. Else my concern over the artists I preside over and the brilliant work they do come off as trying to pawn off the ugly daughter as a consolation prize.

I am doing all I can to make a difference, to show theater is not dead - that it can still be immediate, relevant and impacting. That it's not just for old fogies and that it can be affordable and accessible to all. We do cool work, and we want to share it with as many people as possible.

Jobsite is truly fortunate to have the body of artists that we do, and I would go to hell and back for them. If I don't ever make that clear enough, print this paragraph out and put it in your wallet.

In the end, Inishmore covered that ridiculous budget. That's thanks to a whole ton of people. If you're reading this, you're likely partially responsible.

We've never attempted anything like that bloddy effing monster. I think it left all of us feeling a little wrecked, but still missing it fiercely in our own ways. It's going to pave the road for us to do even better work on a show like Night of the Living Dead. We know a lot more now about what will be needed for budgeting and technical elements than we did just three months ago. This show essentially cost us around $60,000 when all was said and done, easily the largest we've taken on.

Like I said, a lot of lessons learned. I will be a better director, producer and artist in general because of this show. I will also know better next time everything doesn't go exactly my way.

There's a lot in here I'm not even going into as to how a lot of our problems are symptomatic of greater issues we have in needing more sponsors, donors and grants that would help alleviate a lot of these worries (or maybe I've been reading too much Mike Daisey this week). That's not lost on me, but it's a fight for another day.

So, to the choir, or to those who gave up so much of yourselves to make Inishmore what it was - thank you for reading. Thank you for your patience with me. Thank you for believing. Thank you.

I have a few more ideas running around in my head as to how to make this blog better, which I'd like to get into practice here soon. If I'm more honest more often about more things - maybe it gets easier to hear what I'm really trying to say and why.

If you have anything to ever add or contribute - please do!

The 09-10 season: tickets, auditions

Since it doesn't seem like anyone else is interested in talking about it any time soon, we figured we'd break our own story about all the great shows coming up in the 2009-10 season! Hell, we're pretty good at stroking ourselves, so it's no big thing!

Check out the awesomeness!

Jobsite’s 2009-10 season!

Season tickets for 2009-10 will be on sale in June during Rabbit Hole. If you are currently a season ticket holder, you will be mailed renewal forms approximately two weeks before then. If you are not a season ticket holder and would like to be put on the waiting list, write tickets@jobsitetheater.org.

2002 Pulitzer Prize Finalist
Yellowman
By Dael Orlandersmith
Directed by Karla Hartley, featuring Fanni Green
September 24 – October 11, 2009

An African-American woman dreams of life beyond the confines of her small-town Southern upbringing. " ... a celebration of love and a harrowing study of smoldering domestic violence ... heartwarming ... heartbreaking." - Variety

Another classic Jobsite Halloween treat
Night of the Living Dead
By Lori Allen Ohm, based on the screenplay by George Romero
Directed by Chris Holcom
October 22 – November 8, 2009

Fallout from a satellite probe shot to Venus returns to Earth carrying a mysterious radiation that transforms the unburied dead into flesh-eating zombies.

A swingin’ 60’s British sex farce
What the Butler Saw
By Joe Orton
Directed by Katrina Stevenson
January 7 – 24, 2010

In one of the seminal works of modern comedy, a psychiatrist tries to seduce an aspiring secretary. "Hilarious, outrageous ..." The New York Times

It’s the end of the world as they know it …
boom!
By Peter Sinn Nachtrieb
Directed by Kari Goetz
March 11 – 28, 2010

A grad student's personal ad lures a randy journalism coed to his subterranean lab. "Sex! Planet-ruining cataclysms! Loads of booze! boom! has all of these things." - Variety

Trying to make sense of mortality in the Digital Age
Dead Man’s Cell Phone
By Sarah Ruhl
Directed by Paul J. Potenza
June 3 – 20, 2010

An incessantly ringing cell phone in a quiet cafe. A stranger at the next table who has had enough. And a dead man. "Ruhl's zany probe of the razor-thin line between life and death delivers a fresh and humorous look at the times we live in." - Variety

Good Grief! Teens struggling with sex, death and identity
Dog Sees God: Confessions of a Teenage Blockhead
By Bert Royal
Directed by David M. Jenkins
August 5 – 22, 2010

When CB's dog dies from rabies, CB begins to question the existence of an afterlife. "inventive and raunchy ... hysterically funny." New York Post

2009-10 AUDTIONS

Please check out website for complete details on Jobsite's 2009-10 open general casting call. It will be held June 22 from 6-10p in the Shimberg Playhouse at TBPAC, where Jobsite is resident theater company. Callbacks will run on Mondays through June and July. Please make sure to read the audition requirements carefully and comply with all points to ensure you are given a slot. Yellowman is not being cast from this process.

Tonight - PAY WHAT YOU CAN for The Lieutenant of Inishmore

It doesn't really get much better than this, folks. Got $5? We'll take it. Wanna pay $10? Groovy. $7.16? Sure!

Hell, you're even allowed to buy a $100 ticket if that's what you wanna do.

Tonight is PAY WHAT YOU CAN night at The Lieutenant of Inishmore.

You can buy in advance over the phone, and a 10% service charge will be added to your purchase, so keep that in mind. (You want to pay $5? Over the phone it'll cost you $5.50 total).

If you walk up tonight and purchase at the window with CASH - there will be NO service charge. So if you empty out $6.92 in spare change - we're going to take it.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, if money has been an issue and you've cited being broke as the reason you haven't come tonight, we can't make it any better for you than this.

It's up to you, whatever you can spare - that's how much your ticket will cost.

Anything is meaningful to us at this point as we try to make our budget back, and it's important to us that everyone see this killer show.

Hope to see you out.

Thanks to those donating to cover Inishmore expenses

As I was writing the program insert for The Lieutenant of Inishmore, I had a little space left and decided to drop a request in there for donations to help offset our ridiculous costs on the show.

I figured it couldn't hurt, right?

Little did I know the response it would get.

We've had almost $1,500 come to us in increments from $5 to $500. Seriously.

Thanks so much for thinking of us and your experience so much that you decided to give us money above and beyond the cost of your ticket. All donations made to us during this time are being used directly to offset these production costs, hopefully getting us closer and closer to making our budgeted breakeven point.

I'm really humbled how our friends, artists and patrons always manage to come together in times of need and rise to the occasion, ensuring Jobsite's safety and security in the face of adversity.

If you'd like to make a contribution, you can always go to this page and do it via PayPal - it's fast, secure and FREE for you to use!

Into the final stretch on Inishmore

We have 5 performances left of The Lieutenant of Inishmore, and that's all she wrote ladies and gentlemen. Almost a year and a half of preparation, countless meetings, a month of regular rehearsals, two weeks of tech and now three weeks into the run.

How am I feeling right now? Mixed if I can be real about it.

This was a monumental, Herculean project to pull off. The props, the effects, the timing, the commitment and stakes needed from the actors. I'm happy with the work that's being turned in. I'm not sure I've rode people harder, and I certainly don't think any cast and crew has ever worked so doggedly before to get things right. You put in this much work on anything, and you want to see it last for a while. More than that really you want it to be seen and appreciated.

We've had more press on this show than I think we've ever had for a single show. Several preview stories on the behind the scenes stuff - big, full paged jobbies. A few appearances on TV - including the NBC affiliate's nightly news. Three great reviews and even the very first cover story we've had - this week's Creative Loafing. It's been all over the place for as while now. It's a writer we've a history with and who scored huge with his previous two Jobsite stagings - The Pillowman and The Beauty Queen of Leenane.

We've had 5 performances completely sell out. We've had sensational crowds who've given us standing ovations. We've also had some pretty small audiences (and the smaller an audience is the less energy they have and the more self-conscious they are about laughing or responding), and have been worried about sales more often than not for the better part of two weeks. We're still desperately trying to cover our expenses so that we don't lose money on this one. We banked on having a similar response as we've had to similar shows - McDonagh's and beyond.

Seems all the great reviews in the world, all the news coverage, covers of tabloids, great word of mouth or anything isn't going to necessarily make people respond and go out and buy a ticket. I'm hearing a lot of people talking about coming, and I'm at the point of being not sure if they are just politely lying to me as to spare my feelings or sincere and just slack when it comes to actually making the plan to come. In either event it's a maddening feeling. Everyone's talking and hardly anyone is reacting.

I was talking to a few in the cast last night about my hunch that the difference with a show like this and Picasso at the Lapin Agile is that Picasso appealed to an older, more stable audience. Those people make plans and don't mind buying tickets in advance. Inishmore in general has appealed to a much younger crowd (though I think the show is pretty ageless - 20 or 60, it's hilarious and worth seeing) and we're just not seeing them come out the way we hoped.

It's a bit of a hard pill to swallow, and a complete 180 of what we just went through in January. We hardly had to do anything for Picasso, and it was our greatest success to date.

So, why am I telling you all this? On one hand if I'm going to use this space to brag on about successes and tout the sellouts and the financial records, I should also be equally as honest when things aren't going the way we hoped. And common perception right now due to the coverage is that we must be selling out every night, which we wish was the case, but ...

And of course there's another reason - there's still time for us to do something about it. There's still 5 shows and an absurd amount of inventory for them. Today at 4pm, next Thu. - Sat. at 8pm and Sun. at 4pm.

We can still not only break even on this titan budget, but we might be able to get a little ahead. The only way that can happen though is if things change. If sales pick up. If people actually make plans and buy a ticket.

We have 3 people helping us on this show that, as it stands, won't make a dime (our two backstage assistants and my assistant director). I won't even go into all the hours they spend in the theater and how hard they work. They knew it was potentially a volunteer gig in the beginning, but that we'd work on paying them first once the show covered it's costs. We're still a bit away from that. That pains me deeply, time is valuable and no one should be working for free. Here we are doing everything we can to get people paid more and more from show to show, and I might have these three who ended up busting their tails for no other reason than their dedication to this company.

So, all I can really do here is be honest and make a direct ask. Stress how important this is to us. Stress how awesome this show is and how much of a good time you're going to have seeing it.

No one wants to go to the theater out of guilt, and that's not what I'm about. We're not asking for sympathy because we're sure this is worthy. We're not asking for someone to come in and awkwardly sit through two hours of pre-WWII Icelandic expressionism, where Gunta dips fish into buckets of paint and smacks his daughter wearing a white dress to tell his version of the story of how the world began and how it relates to the psyche of farm workers.

Sidenote: two teenaged boys saw the show last night, and the mother who was with them said something to the effect of "See, and you said you didn't like theater" as they lined up, wide-eyed to look at the carnage on stage close up after the show. I smiled and leaned over and said "I don't like theater either. Nor does Martin McDonagh." This ain't your grandma's play ...

This is a *fan-effing-tastic* show. Depsite the gore and guns it's a great, laugh-out-loud story. It's worthy of the attention and praise it's been getting (if I may say so myself).

It's also worthy of a lot more people seeing it before it's gone.

If you've been intending to come out and just haven't for whatever reason, can I twist your arm into picking a ticket up when you're finished reading this? If you've seen the show already, could you maybe send a note to your friends who'd enjoy the show or just even update your Facebook/Twitter status with a message about the show? Anything you can do would be appreciated. We're not even sure where else to turn at this point.

We frankly need these advanced sales or we might end up having to cancel some of next week's shows, which would be a crying shame.

It shouldn't be this hard sometimes to get people to come out and spend two hours watching high-energy, high-quality awesome theater. Especially not a show like this with so many laughs, so much blood, such great talent.

If you are a fan of our work, if you're a fan of McDonagh's work (The Beauty Queen of Leenane, The Pillowman, In Bruges), if you're a fan of the work of anyone in this cast you really owe it to yourself to get out and see it.

I know times are tough, and I know money is tight. Keep in mind we always have $10 rush tickets available for students, seniors and members of the military as of 90 minutes before any show by using a valid ID and cash at the TBPAC Ticket Office window. We also have a final show special for the Sun., 4/12 4pm show - use promo code THOMAS and get your tickets for half off - just $12.25. To buy those specially priced tickets you can call 813.229.STAR or go to TBPAC.ORG. Discounts are not valid on prior sales or in conjunction with any other offer and are subject to availability.

If even that's not going to work for you and you are really serious about wanting to see the show, tell you what, go ahead and write me and we'll see what we can work out. It's just more important to me right now that people see the show. That's why we're doing this, after all.

So, whaddya say, are we going to see you at the theater?

Cleaning up after ourselves on Inishmore

Check out this blog over at Creative Loafing where I talk about all it takes to clean up after this hilarious bloody spectacle.

Just six more shows remain! Please make a plan!

Guest blogger: Kari Goetz - Getting My Arse Kicked

Today's blog is written by Kari Goetz, Mairead in The Lieutenant of Inishmore.

About 45 minutes after the lights went down on last night's show, I had already kicked an enthusiastic 16 year old fan and her boyfriend out of the backstage, washed the majority of the blood off the set walls, cleaned the chair where I had only 50 minutes prior shot my (actual) boyfriend in the back of the head, rinsed off two bloody cat props, wiped down boots, jackets and guns, and taken a bird bath in a plastic bucket with a dubious rag because the blood dried on my skin was starting to itch. It was then that I realized something:

The show is fecking killing me.

Jobsite has been really fortunate to get a lot of press on this show. I would be lying if I didn't admit to having scores of Creative Loafings in my house. Our entire fridge is covered with the reviews and photos and posters.

Matt and I are a lucky couple. We get to play two of the best written lovers since Bonnie and Clyde. We are also fortunate to be two actors who get along very well during a show. Granted working together means sacrificing things like actual meals and clean laundry, but the experience has been amazing. Our relationship has only gotten better since we started working on Inishmore. We've worked really hard on our characters and have enjoyed making out in front of groups of strangers.

I point out all the good stuff so that this post doesn't sound like a bitch. I know how lucky I am, so does every member of the cast. We all know that the work we are doing is really against all laws of stagecraft and common sense. We relish the fact that only Jobsite Theater is crazy enough to produce this show in a black box of 100 seats. I could go on and on about how proud we are of this show.

But its fecking killing us.

I've talked to some of the other actors - guys who have been on stage for the better part of their lives (hell, I've been doing this professionally for 23 years) and we all agree - we've never been so goddamn tired in our lives.

We try to rationalize it, we try to understand where our fatigue is coming from - the show is only 90 minutes when you get down to it. Half the cast isn't even in the last 20 minutes (bloody body parts stand in for them). It's not like there's even any hard-core physical stage combat in the show! But still, we find ourselves at the end of the night, the set sparkling clean, the rigs rinsed, the cats bathed, the guns stripped, the laundry picked up by Katrina (who's water bill is going to be INSANE this month fyi), and we just look at each other and say some variation of "We're getting to old for this shite."

Then we hobble to our cars, talk of sore backs, knees, bruises that are coming up for no reason and return to our homes so we can have strange blood soaked dreams.

Our fatigue and stress resonate down to the work and the stress and the uncertainties this show has built into its very soul. The Lieutenant of Inishmore is a dark comedy and part of the joke is played on the performers. We are in constant fear of blood rigs misfiring (they have), guns misfiring (they have), guns not firing (they have), getting a mouthful of blood and swallowing that nasty stuff (we have), the issues that come with hanging a live actor upside-down for a 20 minute scene (we still worry). Three weeks into the show and four weeks into running the show with full special effects I still go out there saying a prayer that the show doesn't come down around us.

(At all times we are very safe - no worries there - but one missed cue and the next thing you know I'm covered in blood and nobody fired a weapon - whoops!).

I've never worked so hard on a show. That is the sentiment of every member of the Inishmore cast and crew. Across the board, I've never worked harder. I never worked so hard on an audition. I never worked so hard to be off book even before rehearsals began. I never worked so hard in rehearsals to get everything "just right." I've never willingly stood for countless blood batches to be exploded on my face to ensure accuracy and consistency. I've never cared how a gun worked before. I've never pondered during a show how many bullets are in a clip and if a gun misfires or double fires should I have ammo hidden in my costume to try to save the ensuing gun battle? I've never taken a shower with a bloody stuffed cat. I never want to again.

We don't get to see you after the show. This is hard on all of us as actors. One of the traditions of Jobsite is to head out to the front of the theater and hang out with our patrons. Answer questions, tell stories, explain plot points (sometimes a very awkward conversation), and just overall bask in your appreciation of our work.

This time - we're stuck in the theater with a rag in our hand trying not to bust ass on the slippery blood that is pooled on the ground. I can personally attest - it is not the same rewarding experience.

We're tired, we're sore, we're working our asses off, and half the time, we don't even know that you're there because we don't get to see you afterwards.

Please come back into the theater and stop by the stage - we'll be there in our work clothes and we'd love to say hi and talk to you. We promise not to get blood on you.

Extra points if you bring us Advil and booze.

Inishmore is tbt's Deal of the Day for today

Check out tbt's Deal of the Day today - half off tix (just $12.25 ea.) to see the final The Lieutenant of Inishmore performance - Sun., 4/12 at 4p, just $12.25 with promo code THOMAS.

Not valid on prior sales or in conjunction with any other offer. Subject to availability.

Inishmore lands the CreLo cover!

Here's a quote from the story on this week's cover of CreLo, please check this review out! Not only were we impressed with the review itself (I mean, c'mon, what good taste she obviously must have), but we were even more moved by the fact here review was funny, to boot. Oh, yeah, and it's our very first cover story in 10 years of doing this thing:

"I was warned ... violence, gunshots, blood, gore, loud music, cat murder(s) ... Part satire, part farce, part murder mystery, Jobsite delivered on the promise. Yet heed the warning: "This play is not for the easily offended ... It's funny, it's sexy, it's a bloodbath -- it's like a Tarantino movie, but not as pretty. Blood isn't just spattered here and there -- it's smeared and splashed on walls, windows, floors and bodies, alive and dead, human and feline." - Creative Loafing

Truth is, we have 8 shows left and a big giant bucketload of tickets to sell to them. This show is still also a far cry from breaking even on the absurd amount of money it cost to produce it. Please validate the riskiest thing we've chosen to do because we thought not only should it be done, but that if anyone could pull it off it would be Jobsite.

Please, make a plan and get your ticket! Three out of three critics and a boatload of bloggers and regular folks like yourself are raving on and on about how Inishmore is simply made of WIN!