Break a Leg

Happy Jenday, folks!

  So, I've been watching the season finale with increasing excitement and anticipation as I know all of you have.  And I must say that I cannot WAIT for what comes next.  We've alredy seen some pretty cool special effects, i.e. Yuri talking to himself, the baby disappearing as the car drives by, etc.  Well, let me tell you, my friends: this is only the begining.  I won't, of course, give any details because that would just ruin the surprise, but I'm as giddy as a little school girl. 

  There's something else I'm giddy about: Shakespeare.  As I've mentioned once or twice I will be doing a pirate-themed version of Taming of the Shrew this summer with a local community theater.  This is great for me because, as you know, I'm a pirate.  Ok, I don't actually work on a ship or steal government treasure, but there is a lot of drinking and debauchery. 

  The part I'm playing is Grumio, which is not a large part as far as lines are concerned, but he is the sidelick to the main character, which means I spend quite a lot of time on stage without much to say.  Which means me doing what I do best: chewing up scenery and generally upstaging the hell out of everybody.  There is a tenant in acting that many directors have, which is this: "During the rehearsal process, it is better to give too much and have to be brought down a peg or two than to never give enough."  There are many times where it is difficult to push yourself so far that you need to be wrangled in.  However, in this case, I can almost guarantee that the director will have to virtually anchor me to the stage and bind my hands and legs, and STILL have to put me behind a wall to stop me from stealing scenes.  There is a reason they are called "plays" and I intend to illustrate that point with every trick, every whacky notion, every comedic fiber of my being.

  This propensity to induce more physical comedy is, if I were to take artistic license in my writing and I don't see why I shouldn't, the bane of Yuri's existence.  Since we started working on Break A Leg about two years ago, Yuri has had to consantly admonish me with the fact that "we're not acting for stage here, it's tv: less is more."  Which I find terribly boring, but he assures me is funnier.  It's his show, so I'll let him go ahead and think that.  Then, there are rare moments when he will say "Ok, Chad, go ahead and act naturally."  He means to act in what I consider to be a "natural" way, not what other people would consider "natural".  This means hamming it up, being overly dramatic, and mostly idiotic.  Hooray for type casting.

   Anyway, the upshot of all this is that the director of Taming of the Shrew has asked me if I would like to come talk about Break A Leg to her Professional Acting Class, which she teaches at local college.  I find this slightly ironic because while we here at Break A Leg act as professionals and produce a product of professional quality; and while I have, in my career, acted for various professional theater/film/tv companies, I don't consider myself to actually be a professional.  According to dictionary.com, profession is defined in one way as "following an occupation as a means of livelihood or for gain".  And while I do occasionally get paid for the work I do, often in snacks, I am in no way able to make any kind of extended livelihood from my work in that area.  Furthermore, I have taken roughly four acting classes.  Take into consideration that the average Bachelor of Fine Arts program requires somewhere around thirty.  So, for me to stand in front of a bunch of people that probably have more technical knowledge of acting than I do and talk to them about acting seems a bit...silly.  But, I do have one thing going for me they don't: I knew Yuri first and I was just the idiot he was looking for.

  The point is that because of the professional appearance of Break A Leg, we are getting these kinds of offers and because of our professionalism, we are getting a lot of attention, which is great even if (heaven forbid) Break a Leg doesn't continue in the future.

And don't forget to "Ask Jennifer" something today!

Chad "Jennifer is not gay" Yarish

Post-Trip Post-Script

I was ambling outside at the witching hour last night, frustrated at yet another lost Internet connection. Walking through the warm air in the utter dark, I wondered about the nature of our dependence on technology, its deep mystery (to me), and the nature of fandom.

The latter came up for me about two weeks ago, when I made my bi-annual trip “up North” to my parents’ Northern Albertan goat farm. It’s beautiful up there. Usually the drive takes me 9 hours, and people ask me how I can stand it. Music obviously goes a long way, as do pleasant thoughts to keep the mind occupied. But deeper than that, I love it there. The three hours between Edmonton and Calgary are a straight road; no worries there at all. Through Edmonton, which seats so many pleasant memories for me, and afterwards—the wild. Of course, between stretches of bush, with lakes and swirling rivers, there are tamed lands, farmland, some with gigantic houses on them, pristine and pretentious looking, others with run-down shacks rotting slowly into the ground. But this is my home, this “up North”.

 

The night air outside tonight is swoel, a Dutch word that has no proper translation into the English language. No word captures the connotative essence that is associated with that word, as so many meanings are lost in this way. Swoel means that the air is a little soft, a little warm, pleasant. I wish others would understand this word the way I do, could share with me experience that is so tightly wrapped up in language.

I feel, oddly enough, a little the same about Break a Leg. For the first time ever, I have allowed myself to sink fully into fandom, from my first post to now my first blog. And yet, as I burrow deeper and deeper into this blissful state of appreciation, pampered by weekly humour, fan-creator interaction, and the comfort of fellow fans, I am aware that here, not many others speak this language. Quotes are lost; jokes are missed. It’s like I’m a foreigner again.

It is up North that I first realized I had, despite my best intentions, fallen in love with Canada. I’d vowed, in my childishness, to hate it forever, but I still remember the moment I knew I was lost to this place. Traveling on a Greyhound bus between two small towns, I looked out the window upon the hills of the Peace Valley and saw shoots of dried, yellow-brown grass sticking up through the encrusted snow. It was so familiar, so remarkable in its simplicity. I was hooked.

 

Being up there now is different. My parents’ farm counts two of the most wonderful people in the world, five dogs ranging from tiny to giant, a cat, chickens, ducks, hundreds of goats, and sometimes a herd of foster children. The welcome they bestow upon any guest, let alone their daughter, is heartwarming; however, I miss city life whenever I go. I can’t just go for a quick visit—it’s a nine hour drive and I have to make it worthwhile—and often I am afraid of how much I’ll miss the things I’ve grown used to: paved roads, manicured parks, an Internet connection. Despite the beautiful greenery that has sprung up after last week’s rain, the heat since has reduced everything to a dusty crumbling. While I’m there, I write a horribly unfunny blog about BaL withdrawal. I read St. Anna’s blog, which is just about the only thing on the BaL page that will load out there on the farm, and delete mine in frustration. I’m determined to hate it there.

But slowly, as I spend time with my family, things get a little better. The Pomeranian, Pasha, is the cutest thing to play with and drive crazy. His level of being adorable is surpassed only by my niece, fed pieces of garlic bread and soup by her dad, my brother, my favorite person in this whole Universe. (She has her own soup bowl. He doesn’t like the thought of her dipping her drooly bread in his bowl. It reminds me of the times when, gagging, he’d make me clean up after his cat got sick.) Watching movies with my brother, crafting with my inspiring, creative mom, writing and talking with my brilliant dad, all seems to while the time away and suddenly, I don’t miss the city as much. Suddenly, it’s like recognizing the familiar, the simple, like a reed in some snow, and marveling at just how beautiful it is. And how easy to take for granted.

 

Now that I have stocked up on Northern memories to tide me over for a while, to be among my own things, in my own little niche of Femke energy, is like a breath of fresh air that I can appreciate more after breathing in the actual fresh air of the farm.

I love the farm, but it’s good to be home.

Break a Leg is here.

Femke

P.S. Does this picture look familiar to anyone...?

 

Always Fresh looks a lot like the Break a Leg font... with the Break a Leg highlighter on it. Are the guys making their money by advertising at supermarkets?

...you'll have to find out.

Episode 11 is out and it's friggin' awesome!

Check it out:

On his way to deliver the Pilot episode of his show Groommates, writer David Penn finds himself on drugs and facing his future. In the meantime, actor Chase Cougar finds out who his spirit animal is while David's bodyguard, Larry, meets with a Nazi.

Don't forget to rate, favorite, comment and subscribe on YouTube.

Or just watch it on our main page!

Thanks and please, please, please pass it on to all of your friends, so we can get a bagillion views and get on TV and you can watch us after The Office.

Thanks!

A Fan Blog by Anna Cincera

Greetings fellow Swamblers and Swamblerettes! Enough friendly banter, let’s get right to it. Had you been feeling slightly wrong every time you visited the site two weeks ago? Like there was a disturbance in the “force”? Perhaps like something was missing? A very, very important something? Well allow me to put you at ease: I was gone away to California and utterly and extremely gone from the message boards and blog-o-circle (I prefer my blogs in 2D). What was I doing in California, you may ask? Well, though my trip to the one and only San Jose had the immediate purpose of a visit with my father, shortly after my arrival a very tantalizing opportunity was presented to me. That’s right: I GOT INVITED TO ATTEND A BREAK A LEG SHOOT FOR THE NEW EPISODE!

Now, classifying this as one of the greatest days of my life is very fitting and I can only assume that everyone else reading this cares about my life as much as I do, seeing as how I’ve never experienced anything to contradict this idea, so this will undoubtedly be one of the greatest blogs you’ve ever had the pleasure to read. But first, a disclaimer - as much as I’m sure you’re eager to know everything and anything to do with the new episode, my blog will be free of spoilers, so don’t expect me to let slip anything about the part where David and Chase die from mistaking cyanide capsules for Grapenuts. That’s just not happening. Now, here’s the breakdown:

I arrived at Golden Gate Park at approximately 8:40 AM and after some mighty fine over-the-phone directions from Chase Cougar himself, stumbled my way out of the Mini Cooper and over to the single group of people who I would sell my soul to meet. I was greeted with hugs all around and I think it’s safe to say I seduced most of them within my first five minutes of introduction. Then, the coup de grace, I was presented with the single item I would sell my soul to own, a signed copy of the script for the BaL season finale. I know, your jealousy is uncontainable but I’m sure if you drive 658.59 miles and then wake up at 5:30 your first day being there, they’ll greet you with the same level of hospitality. And, let me also interject that I have read the script up until the final minisode in the episode, wishing to experience it along with my fellow Break a Leggers. The first shoot was the “I want us to do Peyote together” scene in the car and I got to lurk behind Dashiell as he diligently captured every bit of funny being expelled by Yuri, Justin and Flynn.

The first shoot was amazing, I watched them rehearse, shoot, and re-shoot the scene until they got every bit exactly how they wanted it (it took about 40 minutes to get all three car doors to slam in unison for a scene I’m assuming will be in the next episode) or, in many instances, took a break and complied with one of Justin’s excitable suggestions as to what order they should get in the car. But, such is their dedication to their art. I don’t think many of us realize what a huge undertaking shooting just a three minute long exchange takes (about an hour and a half of fine-tuning, not to mention the multiple camera angles), and every second of it is worth it.



Throughout the first shoot excitement levels remained high, though it might have just been the Peyote in the air and the many half-eaten donut-holes in Justin’s system. I don’t think I can remember a time in my life when I have enjoyed myself more than watching Justin flee from the car in search of his spirit animal and returning to parade around an Air Jordan sneaker on a stick that he found in the brush.





Eventually, we finished shooting the first scene and (after I got a chance to hold the boom during a take – my very own Mint moment) we moved on to the next location. The next scene shot has yet to be viewed by you the people so I shall be brief in my explanation. I will say that I got a chance to meet Miss Laura Secour and got to hold some cords so Justin wouldn’t fall on his face. After the second shoot, I forced everyone to cram together like they liked each other and humor an obsessed fan with a photo.



Then, last but not least, it was off to the most exciting shoot of the day. Located in scenic Alameda Del Prado, we arrived at the home of the Croisandwich: the one and only Burger King. There we met up with Mike (documentary extraordinaire) and the most important member of the shoot, Ayla (CAG member and the only one of us who could pull off those leopard print overalls).

And so we shot, with a baby, a dog, an expertly designed fake bomb and grenade belt placed directly outside the door of a Burger King. “If anyone asks, this is our story: You’re filming for a school project, Anna.” Yuri said pointedly. “I just hope no one thinks those are real bombs.” I added, even more pointedly. So, with an iron-clad defense and almost lethal amounts of sodium coursing through our veins from the Burger King we’d just ingested, we set to work. Here are a few pictures of said “work.”









Also, in this scene, I made my Break a Leg debut. You know the rest; I walk out, cup in hand and do my thing. Cinema gold. After being delayed two times by women exiting the restroom and asking me what I was doing, we finally got a few usable takes of me walking. I was regrettably done for the day.

So, after hours and hours of growing accustomed to being a part of the Break a Leg team, I was only minutes away from being separated from them for God knows how long. After a photo-shoot with baby Ayla, determined to capture all of her cuteness on film, we took one final picture in front of what else but the largest and most conspicuous BK logo any of us had ever seen.



So in closing, let me just say this: Break a Leg is run by the most talented and genuinely funny group of people I have ever come in contact with. They are dedicated, hard-working, and to say they are my role models and my heroes would be nothing short of the truth. Also, if you ever get the chance to hug Justin Morrison, don’t pass it up. A cougar hug beats a bear hug any day.

-St. Anna