Requiem For Shattered Dreams and Unfufilled Hopes (or EPIC FAIL!)

I'm still, whenever I can with all of the business around me, researching for my hopefully my first debut feature or short film entitled "Nords" (French language title: Les Nordiques). Both titles are in honor of the late Quebec Nordiques of the NHL who moved in 1995 to Denver. As you would assume, the film will be in both English and French dialogue with maybe some Arabic and Creole mixed in. Set in Montreal, it's inspired by, but not set during, the October 30, 1995 Quebec referendum when the No vote won to stay in Canada (it will be set present day for the most part). There will be a special emphasis on the young, multicultural communities in it, a very subtle nod to, or inspiration to then-Quebec Premier Jacques Parizeau's infamous "money and some ethnic votes" speech afterwards. The cast, as you could possibly expect, will be multicultural and multiethnic. Mostly young and from high school to young adult. So, you can expect an ensemble piece utilizing the Mike Leigh/Ken Loach-like acting methods I described on my first post from this. That's all I'm going to say regarding that for now for there will be more details in the future. But that's not what I'm writing about here.

(good deep sigh)

Now I'm finally ready to discuss after times of mentioning and teasing it why I retired from even attempting from acting. This will help you understand my connection with these boards. I agonized numerous times over the years whether I should discuss this internally at all. I hope this forum would be the perfect place for my thoughts regarding this. I need to point out that I'm still very, very uncomfortable and wary about discussing this; though this is the very first time I'm discussing this anywhere, I really don't plan on talking about, or refer to this very much afterwards. I more than realize that I don't write on here very often, so that kinda robs you of getting to know me better, since I don't know many of you here. As you would figure out, my moniker here is in tribute to the Australian modern rock band Icehouse, fronted by Iva Davies, a band that I like a lot and have many of their albums. Let me put it to you like this: If I had my own computer, I would actually post more frequently than I do here now. Even though this is set entirely during my high school days, a high school that I still despise to this day (for many other complex reasons), the following is clearly not a very pleasant story. One that has taken me many years to talk about and deals with at times neglect, insecurity, hatred, and self-loathing. This following story is going to be extensively long so do bear with me and I'll make in parts to digest it easier. Still again, I'm very unsure or insecure of the feedback I'll get for this. Because of the length and will be again in parts, I request that you refrain from posting your thoughts until after the end.

I didn't set out to get into my high school's drama club in my freshman year because I needed time to adjust to my then-new surroundings. One of my first few posts here dealt with me being involved with speech contests in 5th grade. And I thought I got some talent--matter of fact, I was one point away from receiving a perfect gold ribbon for perfection for my Fat Albert Football speech that was largely uncoached. Then in 7th grade I performed another speech, this time at a school assembly, that brought the house down. I portrayed Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in his "I Have A Dream" speech (I'm a young, black male, another, but lesser, revelation here). But anyway, a handful of people felt I should get pursue the drama club, which was of great interest to me beginning in my sophomore year. But that was when the nightmare began. Everyone was nice and friendly with the atmosphere festive at the start with the first monthly meeting with a lot of people attending. Joining the school's drama club, though, will undoubtably go down as one of the worst mistakes I have ever made in my young life. An absolutely horrible, horrible, horrible mistake! And must forever be viewed as such! Back to the meeting: everything again was festive and instantly likeable with lots of people there. I have seen and met the school's drama teacher, a nice gentle, respected, popular, compassionate instructor, and our interactions between us were very much pleasant since during this time.

During the meeting, where we had, among other things, drama club buddies to hook up. I didn't really get one. But the big story of the first meeting of the year was the unveiling of the fall play that year. Jabberwock was the one by James Thurber. In my high school that I hate, the 3 plays we as a drama club performed were directed by three different teachers: a senior class English teacher conducted the fall play; the junior class' English teacher ran the annual winter musical (I had her for an Electronic Media class that sophomore year. She was one of the few teachers there I actually didn't particularly like...); with my drama teacher wrapping up things for the year by running the spring play. Students were eagerly anticipating the auditions to Jabberwock. All of the drama club meetings were held at the drama teacher's room inside a building solely designated for the performing arts, housing the music, band, choir, and drama; the auditorium, as you would expect, is adjacent with the classroom and classroom.

Before I could get into what happened in my rotten time there, I need to tell you to explain my hopes and objectives, which seems stupid now in retrospect. To make things more student-friendly in terms of decision making with the final cast, the director would have a student, someone with a portfolio within the drama club, serving as an assistant (or student director). My hopes weren't associated with technical or set building or striking; my wish was learning to act because I was perceived by some as having allegedly some potential in the craft largely due to my personality with some. I didn't believe I should tackle the major or principal roles at all, but rather the more medium range roles. Definitely not bit parts. I didn't think I could tackle the big parts at all, because they are normally, though not always, reserved for perhaps upperclassmen if roles call it. So I didn't really want to aspire to become a big star in the club. If I arrived at the club with solely the intention of the non-acting aspects, fine. On the other hand, there wouldn't be any need for me to write this. Everyone comes into this with as an aspiring actor with high hopes. But those high hopes can act as an albatross. For the most part, outside of auditions, of which I was awful at (still am as I view them), I manage to get along for the most part with many in the club; a handful I had class with before and since. But there wasn't any close-knitness with them; I'm not going to pretend that I ever really know them well, and I'm very certain they believe likewise regarding me. I think one major factor that worked against me at the very beginning was of the fact I was more of an outsider to them. They didn't know me since they never saw me perform for years. Therefore, there was a disconnect socially between us. The social dynamics and mentality in high school overall, not limited to the drama club, are very interesting and infuriating.

To be continued...

Updated On: 4/30/14 at 10:22 PM

Due to my constant work schedule and thus the limited time I have to write this, I actually won't write much further until next week. Besides, I'm still jotting down further thoughts about my abysmal time there in the interim.

1079+ views at this writing. Keep the views coming in the meantime. Thanks for your patience.

UPDATE: Got even worse now. I'll put it on ice for now.

Updated On: 2/7/11 at 05:40 PM

Before I begin in this. I want to make known of an adjustment regarding that Montreal story I hope to resume working on. Since the May national elections that brought a Conservative majority in the House of Commons for Prime Minister Stephen Harper, The social democratic New Democratic Party, led by Jack Layton, took the majority of seats from the ruling Bloc Quebecois, another social democratic party with pro-secession bent from the French-speaking province, leaving the BQ with only a couple. Apparently, Quebec voters got tired of the separatism rhetoric that plagued it for years. Maybe now Quebec can finally put that issue to bed and be see itself as an integral and unique part of Canada that has a lot to offer for the nation. Layton sadly died four months from cancer at the age of 61, and his death brought an outpouring of grief for someone who genuinely cared for his fellow Canadians. Because of the election, I might make this a contemporary period piece from immediately in 1995-96. Maybe. That issue might not work now and from the ensuing years.

And now, back to this story, which I now dub "the feel bad story of Christmas".

I auditioned for other roles, of course. I auditioned for Doc Marlowe on the skit involving the quack product supposedly concocted by the Hopi Indians, and I imitated what one auditionee already performed. He eventually got that role and elevated what was essentially a mediocre role in how it was written in the play. Didin't expect to get the role of Grandpa. Though that would have been nice. I actually got called back Herman and the Doctor. Callbacks are an tricky and enigmatic affair to me; I tend to think of them as as a true detrminant of who the role's serious contenders are. Those who are on the outside have a faint shot. But that's what it is, faint with few exceptions. For Jabberwock, callbacks were conducted after school (later ones were conducted before classes start in the morning inside the teacher's room). Both roles I auditioned for were nice supporting ones. I also recall my callback time for Herman. In that case, I remember pretending to awoken by what could have been my brother.

Before I go continue on this, I need to illustrate further the social dynamics within the drama club. I alluded some time ago regarding the touchiness of high school drama club and of the competitive nature. Yeah, there was competitiveness, but it was civil and collegiate from what I remember. Talent seemingly was in great abundance all over the students from the seniors on down to the freshmen. The drama club teacher is a positive and popular figure in the school who hosted monthly drama club meetings during the course of the school years (she has since retired several years ago). I thought it would relatively easy for me to break into the social fabric there. However even there, like it is with high school or any other social setting youth or adult, finding your community is not an easy thing to do. Boy, was I wrong. I never realized with that many of my peers at the time had experienced pedigrees; since they were small, many had greater and regular access and practice to the arts for several years than I ever did. I naively (and stupidly) thought it was all free and fully fair. Soon, I began wondering quickly where do I properly fit in: I lacked that pedigree and familiarity that was so desired by the casters. For instance, one respected junior, who later became the drama club president, was known because of her older sister's time there. They were pretty good actresses. I was nothing more than an unknown entity there. I knew a handful of them that I could pick ans spot--then and now--they could at least break through. I'm not going to pretend that I know my peers (and instructors) very well (I still don't). Surely, they feel likewise whenever they thought about me. I had classes with a number of them starting in the eight grade and since. Most of the time we were friendly to each other and were very intelligent. But I couldn't quite break through, that social circle. It's tough because the social nature only allows for a few close friends in asocial dynamic. Overall, we were a very nice drama personnel with plenty of talent. If you think it as a cast gets along well, basically you're right for cohesion. Yet, a pecking order abounds.

Gets much darker after this. See you next week...