One Man Star Wars piece now online

Funny where life takes you. About ten years ago, when I was working in Barkerville, I met a young UVic actor named Charlie Ross. He was up to his knees in mud on the waterwheel, I was running around in the dark at the Theatre Royal. Fast forward a bunch of years, and Charlie is hitting it big on the Fringe Fest circuit with his One Man Star Wars Trilogy (and later the One Man Lord of the Rings Trilogy) and I've become a theatre critic, oddly enough. I then get assigned to catch the Victoria debut and am fortunate enough to write one of the earliest reviews of the One Man Star Wars Trilogy. Great show, nice synchronicity.

Fast forward another few years, and I get assigned to write a profile about Charlie for The Torch, the UVic alumni magazine. Since we're both alumni, and know each, it seems like the perfect match. It's always a bit odd writing about someone you knew before they got famous after they get famous. You know things about the person another writer wouldn't, and even if none of it ever comes up in print, the shared backstory always tends to make it a stronger piece.

All of which is by way of saying The Torch posted my profile of Charlie Ross online. You can read it below, or check out the original at http://web.uvic.ca/torch/torch2006f/feature_7.htm. The homepage of that same site will also kick up an article on University 101, which I taught for this fall. It's an interesting piece in itself.


SOLO FORCE
Comedic hurricane Charles Ross brings his off-Broadway success— a wildly condensed version of the Star Wars trilogy—to campus in January
By JOHN THRELFALL, BA '96
Photography by CHRISTINE MARSHALL


IT'S ANY YOUNG ACTOR'S DREAM: become a smash sensation by creating and performing your own show. And that’s exactly what Charles Ross has done with his pair of internationally acclaimed solo productions, One Man Star Wars Trilogy and One Man Lord of the Rings. But just as Luke Skywalker had to face his dark side, so too does this Phoenix Theatre grad. In a mythological twist normally found in galaxies far, far away, the shadow Ross has to deal with is that of his own creation.

It seems inevitable that Star Wars would play some part in the life of the Prince George-born actor. After all, he had seen the original movie more than 400 times before he was 11, by which time he had committed virtually every line to memory. But how many Star Wars fans—of any age—could imagine not only holding a licensing agreement with Lucasfilm but also being personally invited to perform at the launch of the final installment of the iconic film series, Episode III: Revenge of the Sith? Then you’ve got the hanging out with Hollywood celebs (Ian McKellen, Vin Diesel), the mentions in hip magazines (Esquire, Spin) and A-list TV spots (Late Night with Conan O’Brien, The Today Show). It’s all a little out of this world.

On stage, Ross, BFA ’98, is quite literally a tornado of thespian energy—leaping, gesturing and mimicking his way through a pair of 60-minute, prop-and-costume-free film adaptations. But off stage, Ross is surprisingly quiet and composed, carrying his lanky, 6’3” frame in an almost Zen-like fashion when we meet back where it all began for him, at the Phoenix Theatre.

It’s nice synchronicity. Not only is Charles Ross (‘Charlie’ to his friends) returning to campus to star in this season’s Spotlight on Alumni, opening January 24, but it turns out we’re sitting in the same dressing room where he spent the better part of five years. “No, really,” he laughs. “I dragged in a couch and practically lived here.” And was there any evidence early on that he’d shortly become one of the Phoenix’s greatest hits? “I don’t know if I was any more gifted or promising than anyone else,” he shrugs, “but I did everything I could in the program.” He singles out three acting instructors—Linda Hardy, John Krich and Kaz Piesowocki—as strong influences, but also notes he did much more than just study. “I did so much work here that I had to take an extra year to complete my electives. Being at the Phoenix was a chance to do as much practical, acting work as I possibly could—because I knew that wouldn’t happen out in the ‘real’ world.”

Another chance the Phoenix afforded him was meeting fellow actor TJ Dawe, BFA ’97. If you’re looking for the source of the force that is Charles Ross, Dawe’s your man. Better known as his own solo star (Labrador, The Slip-Knot), Dawe is the director of both the One Man shows; but he also saw something in Ross the faculty was missing. “Charlie was always cast as ‘the heavy’,” recalls Dawe, himself a Star Wars buff. “He was tall, could grow a beard and looked older than the 19 years he was. But no one ever took advantage of his comic talents.

“He would often do wild improvisations where he’d pantomime insane acts of violence, usually against himself,” Dawe continues. “Arrows being shot into his stomach, intestines being ripped out, screaming so loud his throat exploded and his eyes popped—and then a meteor would land and vaporize him. And if people were laughing, he’d just keep going. It wasn’t unusual for him to do this for 45 minutes at a time, all improvised. He was a comic hurricane—and he never got cast in comic roles. It mystified me.”

Yet for all the success that hurricane has generated—and let’s not mince words, Ross has already been more successful than most actors will ever be—he seems a bit bothered by the position in which he finds himself. Catching a glimpse of his own face in the dressing room mirrors, Ross poses a rhetorical question. “How do you avoid the genre you’ve put yourself into?” He pauses and spreads his hands. “This isn’t strict theatre, like Shakespeare; it’s kind of a performance piece—but no one would come to see it if they heard it was performance art, so I’ve disguised it as theatre. Unfortunately for me, I’ve kind of typecast myself as a sci-fi geek. I’m all on my own in some weird little single-member club, where I’m not strictly an actor, I’m not strictly doing theatre, and I’m not working with anybody else.

“It’s funny,” he says, although he’s not really laughing. “All I’ve ever wanted to be is someone who could make a living—and even that, especially in theatre, is extremely difficult. But I remember TJ saying, ‘Once you have this show, you can do whatever you like with it’—and it was almost like a curse.”

Of course, any curse that lets a young actor make, by his own admission, $11,000 US for a 10-day run—and that was before his five-month stint off-Broadway in 2005—doesn’t seem so bad. But with the upcoming Phoenix run coinciding with the fifth anniversary of his One Man Star Wars debut, Ross estimates he’s done the same show a thousand times or more. Suddenly, the curse analogy starts to make sense. Dollars, it seems, do come with a price. “Since the show has gone well, I’ve found myself becoming further and further isolated,” he says, referring more to his professional than personal life. “I feel almost trapped by it now; I think I need to find some time off. I’m beginning to realize how fantastic it would be to go and work for somebody else. I mean, all you have to do is act; I haven’t just acted in so long.”

By writing and starring in his own pair of hit shows, Ross, 32, has already done more than most actors could ever hope. And anyways, isn’t there something deeper going on here between the performer and his audience? TJ Dawe clearly thinks so. “One of my favourite things about One Man Star Wars is how ancient it is. I mean, Beowulf was spoken, so were the Iliad and the Odyssey—and all to audiences who already knew the story.” Noting that Lucas based much of Star Wars on Joseph Campbell’s classic Hero With A Thousand Faces, Dawe is quick to point out the mythopoetic subtext at work. “Charlie’s very much stepping into the shoes of a bard, recreating an epic myth for an audience; it’s a modern telling of the myth, but it’s the same story.”

Still, there comes a time when everybody has to put away their light sabre. “I would like to see an end to this,” Ross concludes. “And there is something coming up next year: Lucasfilm’s 30th anniversary of the original Star Wars release, and I think I might be getting an invitation to do the show there. Now, that might be the natural place to say, ‘Thanks very much folks, it’s been great.’ Because it could go on forever. I don’t want to be 60 years old and dragging my sorry ass out to do the One Man Seniors Star Wars Show.”

It could indeed be the perfect way to say goodbye, especially if Star Wars auteur George Lucas was in the house. Has Lucas ever seen him perform? “Nope.” Ross smiles—not the professional show-biz grin he’s flashed to countless cameras, but a simple, more sincere look that makes his eyes crinkle with pleasure—much like an eight-year-old boy watching Star Wars for the first time. “But that would actually be the best ending for me, to do it for him. It’d be like doing it for the maker, like I’d get to do my show for the deity of a religion. That would be cool.”

Busy, busy, busy

As you can probably tell from the date of my last updated, I've been busy. Teaching that summer music course for UVic's department of writing, yes, then smack into also teaching a fall course specializing in alternative media—but also filling in as acting editor for Monday Magazine . . . in addition to maintaining my position as Monday's arts editor . . . as well as teaching for UVic's University 101 program . . . as well as continuing to freelance for the likes of Yes Magazine, the Torch and another program essay for the Belfry Theatre (this time for their upcoming production of Urinetown: The Musical) . . . not to mention helping to raise my kids . . . and coming down with a case of laryngitis. The only thing I haven't been doing this fall is any DNTO sessions. (But soon, soon.)

Oh, and as you'll see from the article below, I also agreed to moderate a session with famed Canadian singer Buffy Sainte-Marie at the just-completed first annual Victoria International Arts Symposium. Fascinating stuff—although I'm just glad my voice came back for it.


Diplomacy drives artist
Buffy Sainte-Marie reflects on protest art
by Mike Devlin, Times Colonist (Sunday, October 29, 2006)

Take it from someone who knows. The corporate music industry and the U.S. government are both trying to sell you something you already have in your possession.
"Some will tell you that what you want really isn't on the menu," said veteran protest singer Buffy Sainte-Marie. "I say cook it up for them."
Sainte-Marie, a keynote speaker and panelist yesterday at the Victoria International Arts Symposium's Music & Activism session, asked the McPherson Playhouse crowd of more than 250 to think about the true nature of art.
When children play in a sandbox, or when a painter blindly slaps colour on a canvas, they don't know they are creating art. But they are, she said.
"Art is natural. The music business, the galleries, a professional career in the arts -- that's all different. Actually being an artist is fun, it's natural."
Sainte-Marie's vibrant hour-long speech began as a seething, polemical poem directed at the "investors in hate, your Saddams and your Bushes, your bin Ladens and snakes."
It was riveting stuff. Sainte-Marie's voice wavered in spots, as if she was overcome with emotion at those who "profit on war because there's less money in peace."
"War is never, ever, ever holy, it's just a slimy man's dream," she said, the intensity of her poetic diction increasing with each passing line. "And you two-faced crusaders, both sides are obscene. War is not made by God, it is made by men, who misdirect our attention while you thieves do your thing."
Wow. Sainte-Marie was joined later on the panel by local composer Wolf Edwards, Denman Island-based composer and author Ron Sakolsky, and Vancouver performance artist Cheryl L'Hirondelle. But the youthful shadow cast by the popular fixture on Sesame Street was too large for the trio to overcome.
Even when the session took a detour through the definition of music, Sainte-Marie scored big by drawing upon her pioneering 40-year career, which includes an Oscar, a Gemini Award and membership in the Canadian Music Hall of Fame.
"Music is important -- that's why it exists," she said. "The reason why it lasts, the reason why there are classics, is the same reason why there are antiques in the world. There are some kinds of music that cross generations and that cross social groups and that cross the boundaries of nations and language. That's what art can do."
Sainte-Marie, who has a degree in philosophy from University of Massachusetts, recalled her decade-long banishment from the U.S. radio and television airwaves at the hands of then-U.S. President Lyndon B. Johnson. What she most regrets about that period in her life -- a time when her song, Universal Soldier, was a defining moment of protest in the Vietnam era -- was not being denied an audience, but "an audience being denied the thoughts of students like I was."
The panel discussion was clearly anti-mainstream. Moderator John Threlfall said it best when he called concerns over the commercial music industry a "military industrial entertainment complex."
Interesting as well was the considerable dialogue on music in indigenous communities. L'Hirondelle, who is of mixed-blood ancestry, performed a moving ghost dance passed-down to her by her ancestors. It was later revealed to be Woody Guthrie's This Land is Your Land, with lyrics adopted by L'Hirondelle to be more inclusive.
"This land here, our land together," she said. "This is our mother, this is our Earth."
Sainte-Marie revealed to the audience that in the Cree language, there is no term for artist. "Instead, we say, 'It shines through him,' or 'It shines through her.' And the 'it' is what's important. Because that 'it' that shines through art and through artists and through communicators of any kind, of any age, from any place, that sacred 'it' is creativity. And everybody has it. We don't have to point out this one or that one. Because we all do it."
Sainte-Marie said she was asked once to appear with Johnny Carson on The Tonight Show, but when she was told not to talk politics she declined their offer. For that, and many more political moves, Sainte-Marie has been called by those who protest the entertainment industry a true warrior.
But it's a word, it turns out, she is not at all fond of hearing.
"I take issue with the word warrior. It's being thrown around a lot at our symposiums. Please don't ever call me a warrior. I'm educated enough in the indigenous world to know that Crazy Horse was a warrior. Bless him. Sitting Bull was a philosopher. Bless him, too. We are not just maidens and warriors. I don't want to be a warrior, I want to be a diplomat."
Bless her for that.

Let's play ball! It's the latest DNTO session

And in the batter's box . . . I'm pinch-hitting on the music of sports this Saturday afternoon. We'll be hearing the sounds and songs of hockey, baseball, basketball, skateboarding, surfing, the olympics—even Canada's old Participaction program, if you remember that one. Catch me from 2:30-3pm this saturday, may 27, on CBC Radio One.

Yowzer! Unexpected DNTO piece

Holy last minute, everybody! Just got a call from DNTO yesterday saying they wanted a one-hour piece for this Saturday's show . . . so I'm flipping and trimming my recent UVic lecture and we're going with "Play That Funky Music: The History of the Disc Jockey."
Yep, 60 years of the DJ in pop culture and reality. iIf you've ever wanted to know how those voices on the radio got there in the first place, tune in and find out. No idea exactly what time yet, 'cause we don't actually record it until Friday morning (nothing like a 24-hour turnaround!), but I imagine it'll be either from 3-4pm or 4-5pm this Saturday, April 8. They update the website on Friday, so check then (www.cbc.ca/dnto).

Busy week in the media

When you're in the newspaper game, nothing's more likely to get you ribbed at your place of work than appearing in the competition's paper . . . especially twice in one week! Last week, I was one of a group of local media "celebrities" (a term I use loosely) -- including with Time Colonist theatre critic Adrian Chamberlain -- who agreed to help out Kaleidoscope Theatre with their annual fundraiser. No surprise, then, that a group shot appeared in the TC (which, for those of you reading outside the Victoria area, is both the daily newspaper in town and Monday Magazine's longstanding rival), which naturally resulted in some good-natured mocking of me at work that day.
And then, two days later, guess who ended up in the TC again? Yep, me. This time, I was the focus of Adrian Chamberlain's weekly "Backstage" column and while the piece was technically to push my upcoming "History of the Disc Jockey" course at UVic, it ended up being mostly about my background as a witch. (What does witchcraft have to do with DJs? Uh, absolutely nothing.) I can only imagine the ribbing I'll be in for at work on Monday. Sheesh!

Pagan Spin Enlivens Course on DJs
by Adrian Chamberlain
Times Colonist, Saturday March 11, 2006

In Victoria, it's possible to take a university course about disc jockeys from an honest-to-goodness witch.
Isn't this city wonderful?
John Threlfall, 42, is a journalist, pop-culture aficionado -- and witch. On March 22, he'll teach a two-hour course for the University of Victoria's continuing studies department: Play That Funky Music: Sixty years of Disc Jockey Culture.
I may be going out on a limb here, but in my opinion, Threlfall doesn't look anything like a witch. No broom, no cauldron, no black hood. He does have a tattoo of a great big beetle on his forearm, but it possesses no witchy significance. For an interview in the study of his Fernwood digs, he wore a Rheostatics T-shirt. He could pass for a Monday magazine arts writer, which -- in fact -- is exactly what he is.
I've gotten to know John a little in the past few years. He's a nice fellow, and a good theatre critic. I want to ask him about his DJ course and all. But first things first . . . what about this wicca stuff?
"I just use [the term] witch," said Threlfall, "because wicca, it's so confusing."
It turns out this is his 20th year as a witch (what do witches receive on such an anniversary, a gold pentacle inscribed with one's favourite rune?). The Burnaby native was initiated in 1986 by a female coven member. The ritual took place on the University of B.C.'s endowment lands, with a crackling fire and a gaggle o' witchy folk.
"You could see it as being stereotypically hokey," he said. "But no more so than a baptism."
Victoria is reputed to be Canada's witch capital. The late writer and lecturer Robin Skelton was one. Past TC stories have chronicled the exploits of witches who gathered in sacred circles on the beach -- or even Beacon Hill Park -- to sing and chant. One article said 5,000 witch-types showed up in Victoria 24 years ago for a "congress of the covens." (My colleague Jim Gibson says this is untrue. His rationale may be shaky, though. He phoned all the hardware stores to see if pitchfork sales were up. They weren't.)
There is, says Threlfall, a pagan group at William Head prison. "And there's a woman who does pagan chaplaincy at Victoria General Hospital." (A hospital spokesperson said there's no one on staff who does this, but added it's possible a pagan chaplain visits patients on an informal, unregistered basis.)
Some locals mistakenly equate witchcraft with Satanism, perhaps because of the notorious 1980 book Michelle Remembers, in which a Victoria woman described "recovered" memories of having survived ritual satanic abuse.
Threlfall says conventional wisdom pegs the combined witch population on Vancouver Island and the Gulf Islands at 5,000. But some could be witch variants like "small 'P' pagans" and new age goddesses.
Threlfall professes to be the real deal, though. He's taught courses about witchcraft for 13th House Mystery School, which, apparently, is a Victoria witch school (who knew?). He also taught two continuing-education courses on all things witchy for UVic, entitled Out of the Broom Closet. He and his wife, also a witch, don't get out to wicca activities so much anymore. But that's because they're too busy raising two young children.
So how does one become interested in becoming a witch? By listening to too many Black Sabbath albums in junior high? Threlfall says it may stem from having read Mary Stewart's Merlin Trilogy as a 12-year-old. He also had some ghostly ESP-type experiences as a kid.
"I remember thinking, 'It's too bad witches don't exist anymore, because I'd be a great witch.' "
As a teenager, Threlfall shared his interest in witchcraft with just one other friend. He passed for a regular high-school dude, sporting the regulation mullet cut and jean jacket. In those pre-Internet days, he haunted bookstores for witchcraft lore, finally scoring the motherlode at Surrey's Phoenix Metaphysical Books. Through the bookstore, he tracked down a few witchy contacts. Before he knew it, Threlfall was entering witch-dom in the dark forests of UBC.
If I had become a witch as a young man, I think the most difficult thing would be telling my parents. You know, "Mum, Dad, I have something to tell you. I'm a, um . . . I'm a witch." They would have been really, really annoyed. They wanted me to be an architect.
But for Threlfall's folks, it wasn't such a big deal. His parents, now Saltspring Island sheep farmers, are pretty hip, after all. His dad's a former jazz bassist, his mum's a watercolour painter.
"I had always marched to the beat of a different drummer, anyways," he says.
Note: Threlfall's course, Play That Funky Music, covers New York DJ pioneer Martin Block, Adrian Cronauer of Good Morning, Vietnam fame, Alan Freed and Vancouver legend Red Robinson. It runs 7 p.m. to 9 p.m. Wednesday, March 22. Tuition is $15. For information, call 472-4747.
© Times Colonist (Victoria) 2006

DNTO for March

It's DNTO time again, and this time I'm discussing "Fear of Pop"-- a rather odd and somewhat philosophical look at why (and what kind of) music scares people. We'll be hearing from the likes of Ben Folds, Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath, The Beatles ("Helter Skelter"), The Eagles ("Hotel California"), Ice T ("Cop Killer") and others, all as part of DNTO's special "Fear" show, which also features an extended interview with Canadian horror meister David Cronenberg.
Check it out between 2 & 3 and 3 & 4 this Saturday, March 11. For more precise times, be sure to check www.cbc.ca/dnto on Friday, March 10.

Spring courses finalized

Yow! Looks like I'll be having a busy spring. The three courses I'll be teaching this spring have now been finalized: two for the general public and one for registered students at the University of Victoria. You'll find full details (with prices and contact info) listed below, in chronological order, for "Play That Funky Music: 60 Years of Disc Jockey Culture" (March 22), "A Thousand Words: Writing the Personal Essay" (April 1 & 8) and "Soundtrack of Our Lives: Writing in Pop Music, Pop Music in Writing" (May 8 - June 23)


"Play That Funky Music: Sixty Years of Disc Jockey Culture"

When New Yorker Martin Block first spoke into his microphone back in 1940, he had no idea that he was kicking off a new voice in cultural history: the disc jockey. From the infamous—“Tokyo Rose”—and the celebrated— Good Morning Vietnam’s Adrian Cronauer—to rock ’n’ roll rebels like Alan Freed and Red Robinson, for the past 60 years the disc jockey has both fuelled popular imagination and musical innovation, and has also been a voice for historical advancement. Using clips from music, film and television, we’ll fast forward through popular culture to discover how the simple job of playing records has evolved to the point where the message itself has become the medium. This session will include listening to archival recordings (Alan Freed, Red Robinson, Tokyo Rose, Adrian Cronauer) and musical selections, and watching clips from Northern Exposure, FM, WKRP and Do The Right Thing, among others.
Course Code: ASHI363 2006S1 C01
Date: Wednesday March 22: 7 to 9 pm, 1 session
Cost: $16.05 (includes $1.05 GST)
Registration: (250) 472-4747 or register@uvcs.uvic.ca
www.continuingstudies.uvic.ca

"A Thousand Words: Writing the Personal Essay"

Pictures are worth a thousand words, but in the world of freelance writing, 1,000 words is also the average length of the personal essay. But which thousand? Which picture? And how do you make a slice of your own life relevant to a general audience? Through discussion, readings and written exercises, participants will not only find inspiration in their own lives but also discover a source of creative satisfaction-and strong freelance potential, too. If you've ever read one of those back-of-the-magazine pieces and thought, "Hey, I could write that!", this is the workshop for you.
2 Saturdays | April 1 & 8 | 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.
Cost $140
Registration: (250) 595-3000 or info@victoriaschoolofwriting.org
www.victoriaschoolofwriting.org

"Soundtrack of Our Lives: Writing in Pop Music, Pop Music in Writing"

Like music? What about reading? Why not put the two together this summer? WRIT 330: Soundtrack of Our Lives will look at fictional and non-fictional writing about contemporary music since the 1960s, as well as how literature has been represented in popular music. From Whale Music to High Fidelity and from Joni Mitchell to Badly Drawn Boy, this course will integrate film clips and audio tracks with selected readings.
WRIT 330 (Units: 1.5)
Prerequisite: 2nd-year standing.
Note: May be repeated once in different content with permission of the Department. WRIT 330 can be counted as a 300/400-level program requirement for Professional Writing minors.
(250) 721-7306 or writing@finearts.uvic.ca.
http://finearts.uvic.ca/writing/courses/330.html