Typical review of Eat Poo Love
GOOD EVANING
Did you write the play Eat, Poo, Love, which received nothing but four-star reviews at the Toronto Fringe Festival last week?
EVAN ANDREW MACKAY
Asking me, [of Eat, Poo, Love] “Did you write that play?” is like asking a woman who has miscarried, “Did you have your baby?”
It was based on Paul’s blog, and conceptualized as theatre by my brother Dan. I wrote an incomplete first draft which I suggested we work on together to make a fully functioning first draft. But that fragmentary first draft was taken out of my hands and I didn’t see a script again until a few weeks before opening night. My input was no longer wanted. The moment I became aware that I was out of the writing loop, I knew I did not want to be involved in the show.
GOOD EVANING
Why didn’t you quit then?
EVAN ANDREW MACKAY
I knew it would be hard on me to remain in the show, but I thought it would be harder on Dan for me to make the hurtful move of “abandoning” him. He needed support from everywhere he could get it. Especially one of his brothers. The three of us are close. Just about anything any one of us does could be seen as a collective achievement.
But it was risky for me to stay in it. From the time I was excommunicated until about the fourth show, I was doing the Smeagol/Gollum routine: “Support the show”—“Sabotage it!” The acting challenge for me was showing up at rehearsals without speaking my mind. One performance, I screwed up my lines twice because as I waited for my cue I had been imaging addressing the audience with “This isn’t the way the script was supposed to go.”
GOOD EVANING
How was it hard for you to be in the show?
EVAN ANDREW MACKAY
Just about every rehearsal, I was reminded to know my place—an actor. Physical and social pains that Paul and I suffered were clowned and directed, and I was made to watch without comment. Lines I had written remained senselessly in scenes that someone else had reshaped, and I was given no opportunity to amend things.
GOOD EVANING
Why were you “dumped” from the writing team?
EVAN ANDREW MACKAY
My enthusiasm can be unsettling. I’m a loose canon. Imagine writing a play with Robin Williams back in his cocaine days.
GOOD EVANING
Did you like the final script?
EVAN ANDREW MACKAY
In my view, it was not ready for the stage. It was not ready to be shown to a director, for that matter. It has significant flaws structurally and thematically. (There is one line near the end that, as a patient, makes me shudder.) But it was put on stage for seven enthusiastic audiences. Can’t complain about that. Daniel accomplished what he wanted to do; that is a success. And I want my brother to have success in whatever way he seeks it.
GOOD EVANING
Has this done permanent harm to your relationship with your brother?
EVAN ANDREW MACKAY
No.
GOOD EVANING
Would you work with him again artistically?
EVAN ANDREW MACKAY
Probably.
GOOD EVANING
Aren’t you causing trouble by saying these things in this somewhat public way?
EVAN ANDREW MACKAY
If I can’t talk about my writing, I can’t be a writer. I have to be free to answer questions like, “What have you written lately?” Could I have left my brother out of this discussion? Not if he was my writing partner. (This blog post is probably a good example of why he hesitates to work with me.)
I have to say these words in this place at this moment so that I can stop repeating them in my head and to strangers at bus stops. After two months of not writing anything, this is what I need to do to I feel I have my writing back.
I’d say, “The last thing I want to do is hurt my brother.” But that shit ain’t the truth. The last thing I want to do is have a false peace with my brother.
A line from the beginning of the play—a line Dan wrote—says you can’t have perfection; the best you can hope for is harmony.
GOOD EVANING
So, do you love your brother?
EVAN ANDREW MACKAY
Oh, fuck off.
Evan as Dino Carcinoma; Dan as Patient Q
Dang! But as one who honors the truth…this had to be said to get out of your head and I am very impressed (and find it honorable) that you were able to wait until the the curtains closed. It shows not only that you love your brother but that you support, respect, and are loyal as a brother as well.
Thank you Sarah. I hope others take it in the same way, because that’s how I meant it.
Guess who was waiting outside the theatre on Saturday… Tammy Jones Estabrooks! I was so happy to see her. (And damn she is fine, as ever.) Being self absorbed like I am, I forgot to congratulate her on her children’s book.
What a delightful, passive-aggressive, cathartic blog post from the middle child. It seems apt to liken it to a writer’s laxative. Or, dare I say, co-writer’s laxative? Muah. Ha. Ha.
“Writer’s Laxative”… I think that could be the new name of the blog!
Great evil laugh. Or is it a French laugh?
Well, if we’re ‘honouring the truth’ here, in a public forum rather than in person, then I’ve got something to say. But I’ll wait until my blood cools off a little.
Them’s fightin’ words. I’d better get my tumour costume on again!
I would like to see this blog post turned into a play someday.
Someone needs to have a lie down with a cold compress and an arrowroot biscuit…. Just sayin’.
Stamps are going up….
Whoosh! It’s a hot day for fishing, but since a fresh can of worms has been opened, let’s see if we can’t land a sturgeon of truth.
Those of you who know Evan will recognize that he represents the best of what humanity has to offer, so for him to make this blog entry is uncharacteristic, to say the least. (How did we communicate before blogs, anyway?) It is testament to the depth of his anguish that he would choose to lambaste me so publicly on the heels of the show’s success. And the fact that his comments diminish and malign the efforts of everyone involved makes me understand the depth of my failure. It gives me no satisfaction to respond in this forum, but I feel I need to address the issue before others do; those who might mount a more spirited and less polite defense of my choices. I had no idea Evan was so unhappy about this; but the irony of ‘supporting me’ by staying in the show, and then giving me a shellacking less than 48 hours later is not lost on me.
I have never produced a show before. I quickly discovered that there was no shortage of opinions as to How Things Should Be Done, and that keeping three writers and a director happy was a thankless task. I therefore chose one direction, rather than four. They say it’s only a good deal if everyone is unhappy; I promise you that no one is completely content with the final product. Summarizing a trial such as Paul’s in 50 minutes is ridiculous. But the general consensus on the show has been positive There are reasons that Evan’s contribution as writer were limited; I don’t feel as comfortable as he does in discussing them here. But to say, “In my view, it was not ready for the stage. It was not ready to be shown to a director, for that matter. It has significant flaws structurally and thematically” defines arrogance, which is not a trait I would attribute to Evan. Apparently the implication is that, if only he had been in charge, the show would have been a real success. He may well be right, but I made the choices that I thought were best for this show at this time, and I do not apologize for them. I apologize to him, for not recognizing what was happening. Evan’s contribution to the show has been essential and fundamental, and if he feels unappreciated, that is cause for regret.
Our history of misinterpreted intentions is legendary, and will never be resolved, I guess. Do we learn? Won’t know ’til next time. But he will always be my brother, and I could not endure without him. Guess I’ve gotta start my own blog, to tell him how I feel.
Well said. Case closed.
And another thing…
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