Working Title: The Bottom 7 Reasons Why Furious 7 Is Just like Bay Area Theater

What’s this? Working Title on a Wednesday? Look, we’ve got a lot going on, people… but yeah… here you go. This week Will Leschber plays with NOS and Nostalgia.

I don’t fully understand how it happened. And I know after I say this, I’ll have to turn in my creative, artistic, critical integrity card…but I enjoyed the hell out of seeing Furious 7. I know I’m not the only one, considering the box office returns and the positive critical response. I used to rail against this trash. Street-racing? Duuuuumb. Inflated earnest machismo?! Pass. I’m good on that.

I felt the first films in the series were flat, flashy, empty and bolstered by style over substance and bad acting to boot. When The Fast and the Furious came out in June of 2001, I had just completed my first year of college studying theater, of course. So I wasn’t really interested in NOS-powered street-racing cars and their criminal counterparts. I couldn’t been seen enjoying this lazy filmmaking. And I didn’t for like 5 films. Then something happened. A NOS switch was flipped and the hollow style of this franchise became a playful aspect that informed the substance. That’s a wordy way to say that as the franchise became aware of itself, it gained depth. It’s something that know what it is and does its job. Just like any professional: Theater or International Super Human, Car-Flying Do-Gooder.

It’s kind of odd how something as originally vapid as The Fast and the Furious can come to be an instrument of such strong NOS-talgia. As the franchise remarks on (and handles beautifully) the passing of Paul Walker, it also remind general audiences how much has passed in the near 14 years since the original. Nothing helps remind like a new chapter in an old book.

Below is the list you never knew you always wanted:

The bottom 7 reasons why Furious 7 is just like Bay Area Theater

#7- It’s not. (But it’s fun to reach for internet lists…COME ON!)

#6- Both know how to play with genre: Is it drama? Is it action? Is it romance? Is it bromance? Is it melodrama? It’s it self referential parody while somehow ridiculously, hugely entertaining? Has it now matured into all of these things at once? Yeah.

#5- It’s a bro’s club. I’m looking at you, PianoFight. But the good news is the longer the franchise goes on, the better the action scenes get for the awesome female characters. (I’m looking at you, Michelle Rodriguez.)

#4- Often we think we are saving the world and in reality we are just being self-indulgent and having fun being ridiculous. If you don’t know of any instance where this has happened in your creative life, look to your left, find the first theater person and ask them if their new play is important. I bet it is really really really important.

#3- It’s a drag race.

#2- General audiences agree: these are better when seen in large groups and or intoxicated.

#1- It’s all about family. As ridiculous as it sounds, part of the reason the Fast & the Furious franchise has continued and is more successful than ever, is because we’ve grown to care for the characters. That should go without saying for any long-running franchise. Yes, the action set pieces are well executed. And, sure, we may have shown up for the scantily clad drag-race, but, hey, we stayed because of the personal connections we made along the way.

After we were done living life a quarter-mile at a time, we realized that the connections we make and the bonds we forge are what keep us going when things get hard. My favorite part of being apart of the San Francisco indie theater scene is just that: being a part of a larger community. At times it feels like a dysfunctional family, but at times it reminds us how the small acts of kindness and the large acts of loyalty makes you feel like you are in the arms of family.

Higher Education: School’s Out Forever

Barbara Jwanouskos finishes up an important chapter.

Today is my last day of classes and the last official day of the Dramatic Writing program here at CMU. After this, the graduating class of writers flies out to LA to meet with industry professionals, then back to Pittsburgh for commencement, to New York for more meetings with industry professionals, and then we return to Pittsburgh to get things in order. Then, we leave.

It’s a bittersweet moment where I can’t help but be nostalgic, nervous and excited all at the same time. I went into this program because I wanted to radically improve my craft, and it’s happened, but part of me feels like I’m just barely scratching the surface. There is still so much out there to learn and so many opportunities to grow further. Though my official academic stint is coming to an end, it’s cliché but it’s true, now is when the real learning begins. When does the learning process ever stop after all? Now’s the time to apply all of what I’ve learned here while also trying to make sure that I’m still finding opportunities for production, development, and inspiration.

It can be daunting to stand at the precipice of any big change in your life. Part of us thinks, “well, maybe I could have done more…” Over the last couple of months, my goal has been to make it to the end strong. Now I’m here and I’ve been reflecting over the times where I made mistakes, where maybe I could have gone further. One of the most difficult challenges for me in this moment is recognizing the good work that I’ve done over the past two years and acknowledging that it is worth of celebration. I haven’t come to a solution that instantly takes all the feelings away, but what I have come to is that I can feel proud of my accomplishments, while simultaneously recognizing that there are so many people, places, things, experiences, and memories I am saying goodbye to.

As artists we deal with loss on a continual basis. We work in a collaborative medium that asks us to build relationships with other people and create events that inspire a connection from others still. In the process of creation we need to be able to trust one another and lean into vulnerability. We start to understand the people around us in better ways. And sure, maybe we have our disagreements or our spats, but having this collaborative atmosphere is wonderful because everyone brings so much to the table. Then, when it ends we part ways and go onto other projects. And that’s just the nature of it.

A couple guest artists came recently and spoke to the School of Drama students. What struck me was how they anticipate these feelings and adjust their own artistic schedules and interests to make the transition times easier. Andrea Thome, a playwright, came recently and we talked a bit about her process of collaboration and of making art. She said that she gains a lot of energy by collaboration and so she’s always trying to meet and talk to new people to start new work. Alan Alda said something similar. He told us in a talkback session that as artists it was very important to have interests in something other than just acting (or writing, directing, etc.). He said it was important to have interests in other things because it helps feed you during the times when one project might be over and another isn’t in sight.

Their words of wisdom resonated with me as I try and think what is my next thing? What is on the horizon for me? What are the things I care about and want to develop further? Instantly, my mind is flooded with images of sprinklings of new plays, people I want to re-connect with once I return to the Bay Area (that’s right, I’m coming back!!), my loved ones who I’ve been separated from for so long, and all the other inspiring pieces of life I can’t wait to engage with. Then, I remember the other side of a goodbye and the other side of loss, and that is the beginning that is waiting to happening.