Thomas Merton, a poet and
Catholic philosopher, developed a strong appreciation for Zen near the end of
his short life. He told a friend about his key to happiness: the phrase
"Now, Here, This." Not a command to "listen to this," but three
distinct words as reminders:
- Now: this exact moment in time, NOT the past not future plans, but this tangible experience.
- Here: (NOT hear) This place in space, not where we might go or where we've been or where we want to be, but the place you actually are.
- This: the thing we're doing, the senses we're using, not imagination but reality.
Now Here This - a way to live
that will let us experience and truly appreciate life (while we have it.)
That philosophy is the title
to a musical that played Off-Broadway in 2012, and now has a cast album
released by Ghostlight Records. It comes across as a musical group-therapy
session, moving from angst-ridden memories and quirky stories about personal insecurities
towards a new-ageish acceptance of the choices made, experiencing and embracing
the present. It’s certainly cheaper than group therapy, and probably funnier.
The writers – Hunter Bell,
Jeff Bowen, and Susan Blackwell – and their collaborator Heidi Blickinstaff not
only star in the show, they essentially play themselves searching out this
meaning-of-life thing. This isn’t their first time doing a super-meta musical;
the even quirkier [title of show] was about them creating a show for the
New York Musical Theatre Festival and its subsequent off-Broadway run.
That device is back, this time
as friends reflecting on their individual histories. Maybe it’s because I know
these four people – not personally, but I feel I met them in [title of show].
Subsequently, they’ve put their personalities on the web through video
podcasts, Twitter feeds, blogs, and even a documentary on recording this cast
album, although the latter is more a wink and thank-you to the fans who put up
the money to record the album through a Kickstarter online campaign. The video
confirmed that although the four people in Now. Here. This. have the
personalities and quirky sense of humor of the real Jeff, Hunter, Heidi and
Susan, they are meant to be any of the millions of slightly off-kilter creative
types, the kind of people who have busy minds, fragments of ideas floating all
the time, imagining what-ifs. There are a lot of us out here, and Now. Here.
This. grabs our attention, at least for the moment.
The best song of the bunch is “More
Life” not only because it’s catchy but for setting up those big questions. What
are we missing by not being present at this moment, in this place. Only a
couple of the songs address that ‘here and now’ utopia; the majority of the
music points out the road blocks, mostly as journeys from the past.
Jeff remembers the discovery
that he can dazzle any school bullies into thinking he’s funny, instead of
thinking he’s gay, which is a social death sentence in elementary school. Heidi
is a budding diva craving attention from a busy family. Susan fills her life
with activities to avoid a house that could have been on Hoarders. It doesn’t
matter if the stories are fully real or, as Hollywood puts it, “Inspired by a
true story.” The performances come
though the recording, especially the twists that crack the masks and gives the
character some self-realization, (predictable as it might be). A big exception
is Hunter’s story/song about hiding in an imagined life with his ideal
boyfriend, which is so over-the-top random and confused that it seems more of a desperate attempt at imagination rather than the practiced imaginary world of
so many who create a world to disappear into. It comes across like “My
Girlfriend Who Lives in Canada” from Avenue Q, but a lot less raunchy.
A
theme in the show – and in life – is the desire for STUFF. A belief that
getting that thing you desire will unlock the key to happiness. It’s present in
the scene-setter “More Life,” and repeats in the all-too-true number “Members
Only.” The title refers both to exclusive clubs AND a popular 1980s jacket
brand. It acknowledges the teenage rite of passage of finding the RIGHT
clothing to get accepted by the popular people. It’s amusing while being
painfully real. “Then Comes You” is a sweet song of friendship, and the truism
that when you accept yourself, it’s easier for others to accept you as well.
As soon as the songs begin drifting into the land of the new-age spiritual retreat, the quartet yanks us
back into an odd story of a group sea excursion, sung in the style of an old
Irish sailing ballad, with Jeff and Susan getting seasick mid-song. There’s a
wee moral to the tale of the “Wilbert S. Pound” -- when life upends you,
sulking and being miserable makes it worse, but finding SOMETHING to appreciate
makes the time sail by. Pollyanna? Perhaps. That’s where these songs come up
short. Listening to the complete album feels like a weekend retreat where the
group leaves refreshed in their purpose and commitment, before the reality of
life crushes in. As Heidi sings the sweet “This Time,” which suggests a person
sets her own rules, chooses her own path, it sounds like such an easy thing to
do that the sentiment dissolves into fluff.
The ‘documentary’ suggested that
the collaborators were continuing to develop the show. If so, I’d like to see
them add the struggles of experiencing the ‘Now Here This’ through life’s
constant interruptions – interruptions that the reclusive monk Thomas Merton
didn’t have to consider, such as the partnership of marriage, raising a family,
paying the bills. For example, since this CD came out shortly before Christmas,
it took a few days fits and starts to listen to it and write this review. As
Stephen Sondheim put it in Into the Woods, “If life were only ‘moments,’
then you’d never know you had one.” The only song that comes close to exploring
that is the unfortunately-titled song “That Makes Me Hot” – which attempts to
show when experiencing the Now Here and This is EMBARRASSING. That’s not the
same thing.
Hey, this is a musical, not an
answer to the meaning of life. It’s supposed to make you leave wanting more.
And there are some satisfying moments from the cast album, despite some crazy
pop culture references, such as rhyming the came Clue with actor “Gerard
Depardeiu.” The song I appreciate most is “Golden Palace,” which convinces me
we shouldn’t set our heroes on a pedestal beyond our reach. Instead, have enough
faith in ourselves and our own potential that we can mingle with our heroes at
the level we’re at now.
So if you’re looking for a
profound musical experience, this CD isn’t it. If you’re looking for lovely
background music, this isn’t it. If you’re looking for a good time with some
unique songs that want to be listened to and thought about, this might be it.
Ranking on the Art, Humor, and
Entertainment scales:
Art: middle to low. The words
stumble through the music, instead of both working together. But the thoughts
are worth considering.
Humor: Middle to high. It’s
closer to slapstick comedy, with probably too many 1980s pop culture references
(Wikipedia will probably have a few visits to the Ed Grimley entry) but several
moments are laugh-out-loud outrageous.
Entertainment Factor: High.
Listening to some of Jeff Bowen’s wordy phrases is hard work, but the joy of
the performance comes through. It’s not only the way the four voices blend,
it’s the way their personalities blend. This CD will be treasured by students
and young adults who are themselves on the creative and quirky side, feeling
their way in this odds-beating existence called “life.”
