The semester is nearly done, and as I wait for final exams and final papers to come pouring onto my desk (literally and virtually), I am refocusing my energies upon finishing the film. \u00a0So much has gone wrong in completing this production. \u00a0The first version of this film was halted, for awhile, by the sudden death of one of the play’s co-producers, Nancy Resh. \u00a0Now she is the muse: for the production of the second play and for the production of this documentary film.<\/p>\n
One of the smaller themes running through this film centers around the notion of happiness<\/em>. \u00a0Whenever I think of that word, happiness, the cynic in me starts to sing “Happiness is a Warm Gun<\/a>” (music video, not captioned), and then I start thinking of the version performed in the Beatles tribute movie Across the Universe<\/em><\/a> (also not captioned). In truth, the lyrics have very little to do with the productions of either play:<\/p>\n And yet, the song still dances through my head as I struggle to finish the film. \u00a0Just as the filmmakers of Across the Universe<\/em> provide their interpretation of \u00a0“happiness is a warm gun” as being an opiate response to the direct and indirect death and destruction of the Vietnam War, I am pulling from the song’s lyrics to apply my interpretation of the staged ASL\/English productions at Kent Trumbull Theatre. \u00a0In other words, the lyrics aren’t about those productions, but several experiences of those productions are about those lyrics: death, destruction, tears, remorse, guilt, and a whole lotta’ pain. \u00a0During the first production, one cast member fretted while another cast member (her son) was hospitalized, another cast member lost her mother to cancer, and several others were also clearly struggling with painful personal issues. \u00a0In this first production, however, those pains and struggles, that general unhappiness, seemed to pull most of the cast and crew together, to fight to create (not to destroy). \u00a0This was also\u00a0the case in the second production, where personal pains became pains on the stage as adults fought over very real personal and professional violations of space, understanding, and (above all) respect. \u00a0However, unlike the first production, the second production nearly fell apart: pain pulled them further and further apart, not together. \u00a0But what do I really know? \u00a0Not much. \u00a0As the filmmaker, at this point, I’m just the lizard on a window pane.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The semester is nearly done, and as I wait for final exams and final papers to come pouring onto my desk (literally and virtually), I am refocusing my energies upon finishing the film. \u00a0So much has gone wrong in completing … Continue reading \n
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\nDo do do do do do, oh yeah<\/div>\n
\nDown to the bits that I left uptown
\nI need a fix ’cause I’m going down<\/div>\n
\nMother Superior jump the gun
\nMother Superior jump the gun
\nMother Superior jump the gun<\/div>\n
\nHappiness is a warm gun, mama (bang bang shoot shoot)
\nWhen I hold you in my arms (oh, yeah)
\nAnd I feel my finger on your trigger (oh, yeah)
\nI know nobody can do me no harm (oh, yeah)
\nBecause, (happiness) is a warm gun, mama (bang bang shoot shoot)
\nHappiness is a warm gun, yes it is (bang bang shoot shoot)<\/div>\n
\nHappiness (bang bang shoot shoot)<\/div>\n