Trailer for Addicted: A comedy of substance

Written by Mark Lundholm
Directed by Aaron S. Davis
Performed by Richard Wiens

Performed by talented actor, Richard Wiens and Directed by Aaron S. Davis, Third Degree Theatre presents the Canadian debut of the smash hit comedy Addicted. Written by Mark Lundholm, Americas favourite recovering drug addict turned comedian, this one man show is about making choices, and second chances. It’s fiercely funny and severely dysfunctional. This powerfully dramatic stage play is a bridge between recovery and regular folks, and skewers the disease of addiction in every form. Lundholm wrote this play based on personal experience. Clean and sober since 1988, Mark Lundholm is a former criminal, mental patient, homeless wino, resident in a halfway house who started poking fun at the insanity his life had become. The New York Times called it “riveting, dark and funny!”

May 27, 28, 29, June 4 and 5
Second Storey Theatre
#201-2550 Shaughnessy St., Port Coquitlam
Doors @ 7:30pm Curtain @ 8:00pm
Tickets $15/$10 advance or $20/15 at the door

MORE INFORMATION – www.thirddegreetheatre.ca

Produced under special arrangement from Mark Lundholm Enterprises, Inc.

Fear and Theatre Don’t Mix

Well, my intention was to start my post by sarcastically praising men’s superior laziness because I’d been the last one to blog, but Aaron just ruined that. To top it all off, what he said in his post made it hard for me to be even remotely sardonic. The truth is that I’ve wanted to write about different things over the past few days, but no point has really materialized in my mind. Then again, I know that I won’t suddenly have some genial revelation if I just sit on these ideas. So, here’s my attempt…

theatre forces us to be honest and uninhibited: both rare, and at times unwelcome, qualities to have in "the real world".

It appears that the topic that I keep coming back to is shame. Mark talks a lot about fear, and well, isn’t shame just a form of fear? People are ashamed because they fear others’ disapproval and inability to understand whatever it is they keep hidden. Sadly, I think that pain is something our society is generally afraid and – worse yet – ashamed of. Boys don’t cry, right? Sure, that stance may not be as prevalent nowadays, but it’s still present. We also seem to have an expiry date for pain. There is a point when people figure you’ve grieved enough,  but if you weren’t done, you begin to get the added bonus of being ashamed of it.

I’ve read Buddhist literature about accepting suffering as something intrinsic in life, instead of fearing it, but it’s probably one of the hardest things to do. I think actors require this same openness when they create a character; and I have to say: I have a deep respect for anyone who can embrace emotions so freely.  Most – if not every – rehearsal has left me affected in some way, and I essentially just take notes! Don’t get me wrong;  I know my work is important. I just appreciate what delving into the mind and body of another person must do to the self – especially in this case. I’m just looking into the pool, but to try swimming in it…that takes serious courage. Fear is not an option.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that theatre forces us to be honest and uninhibited: both rare, and at times unwelcome, qualities to have in “the real world”. For an art form that aims to deceive its audience, I think that theatre is the most sincere of them all. It is intensely liberating. Although I’d been in love with it a long time, I know that what actually made me dive headfirst into it was feeling unbearable pain. Theatre was the one remedy that not only didn’t feel self-destructive, but actually felt productive! There was no shame in it. So, I’m content with my addiction. Most of the time I can’t believe stage management is a “job”. All I can do once I’m calling the show is hope that the people who come see it really see it, because that connection is truly powerful.

Now for the plug: “Addicted” is a brutally honest and a fantastically told story. Working on it has been a very personal, closely knit process, which I believe is making it a very strong and pretty phenomenal piece of theatre. For anyone who values honesty and isn’t afraid of mirrors (figuratively speaking), come see it!

Doing Homework

I see that our supposedly weekly blog has become bi-weekly, which is not good, but I’ll get myself into the habit of writing more often. It has been a good couple of weeks – pretty eventful for me. We’ve had some interesting rehearsals. In fact, our last one was in a racquetball court, which certainly made for interesting acoustics! If you’re wondering why on Earth we would do that, the answer is: hockey (i.e. unavailable living room). Hopefully things will be back on track after next week . We’ve had to reschedule a few rehearsals already on account of sickness, school, and improv nights. Despite that though, I think we’re making some decent progress. As Richard mentioned, he doesn’t always play just Mark, but the other characters he plays definitely have a distinct presence now.

"...when these people started talking about their thoughts and feelings, or just telling stories, I felt more at ease."

Thinking about what we’ve done in the past week, what stands out the most for me is a particular evening of research. We got the chance to listen to some people who are currently in recovery, and it was nothing short of amazing. At first, it was very intimidating; to say that I felt out-of-place would be an understatement.  But when these people started talking about their thoughts and feelings, or just telling stories, I felt more at ease. The stories were not always ones that I could relate to, but I loved hearing them and how they’ve helped turn lives around completely.

Dramatic as it may sound, it has taken some time for me to absorb and digest everything that we heard that night. That’s not to say that I was traumatized or something – not at all! On the contrary, I feel so many positive things. For one, I feel compassion and admiration for the people who shared their stories and exposed themselves without shame. That takes so much courage. I also feel relieved to know, for example, that existential crises are more common than I thought, which is extremely comforting! When it comes to “Addicted”, I feel more distant and yet somehow closer to Mark. I am a lot more aware of how different we are, but I’ve also gotten a deeper understanding of what he is talking about.

In conclusion (excuse the academic tone), researching Mark’s world has proven to be quite valuable for me – as a stage manager and a person – as well as inspiring. I feel so lucky and excited to be part of this production!

Addicted to Stage Management

I’m sure too many people start blogging by talking about how strange the whole blogging experience is for them, so I’ll skip that part and dive straight into what I’m actually here to talk about: a fantastic little show called “Addicted: A Comedy of Substance.”

Honestly, when I thought about what stage managing this show would mean for me, my time, and my personal life, I was pretty convinced that taking it on was probably not the best idea…that is, until I read the script. It didn’t take long for me to realize how important it was to tell this story because it was surprisingly close to my heart. I was amazed at how much a 21-year-old scholarship-earning university student, raised by extremely loving, supportive parents, in an upper middle class setting, could identify with Mark Lundholm. I wasn’t seeing him as a case study in a psychology class; I was seeing him as someone very dear to me who simply made different choices.

The moment that cemented my absolute necessity to be part of this project was when Aaron, our director, was talking about perceived reflections, and what an addict might see when standing in front of a mirror. Well, I’m not sure exactly what happened in that moment, but I suddenly felt my eyes starting to well up with tears, and I KNEW this wasn’t just another play.

Having worked with both Aaron and Richard last November, the past few rehearsals have felt like being home again. Sure, the tone of this show is completely different, and a three-person rehearsal taking place in a living room is also unlike what we’ve done in the past. At the same time though, this kind of intimate situation demands that the work be personal for all of us, so the fact that we know each other has made it easy to just delve into the script without hesitation, which in itself is extremely valuable.

Anyway, I’m extremely excited to see our one-man show come to fruition and I’m enjoying every step of the way. Keep checking back for tales about the production of this tragically hilarious (or hilariously tragic?) show. Until next time!

Addicted: A Comedy of Substance

In 2004 I heard a man speak. He was talking in great detail about some skeletons in his closet that made many he was speaking to sit with jaws dropped. He spoke with honesty and candour, sparing none of the gory details. I listened on the edge of my seat for about an hour hooked on every word.

I learned two things in that hour:

1. This guy was experiencing a life DESIGNED for movies, and
2. I identified with a little part of each and every thing he said.

In that short time, I laughed hard, cried hard and listened hard to the details of Mark Lundholm’s experiences. He spoke about his world of addiction, abandonment, crime, overeating, promiscuity, insanity, jails, institutions, family, love, parenting, accomplishment and recovery. He opened the doors to his life so wide that you could see his soul. It was funny, then it wasn’t… then it was over.

At every turn, despite the seriousness suggested by the themes of his story, there was hysterical laughter. Mark makes his living as a stand-up comic and motivational speaker. He tours North America telling his stories is different ways to different people to entertain them and maybe plant some seeds that allow each individual a richer life experience. He is incredibly funny and incredibly talented at bringing even his most shocking happenings to a place where ANYONE can identify.

What I really learned had little to do with Mark at all. Somehow, while he told us about his tragedy, his love, his pain, his dark secrets and his triumphs, I discovered a lot about myself. The event changed me and brought me a more intimate awareness of my own life as well as how I reacted to it.

I found myself thinking that it would all make a great movie…

And then a friend introduced me to the Play, written by Mark about his life. “Addicted: A Comedy of Substance” had spent six months off Broadway in New York and was a smashing success. As soon as I got my hands on it, I knew this story had to be told here. Mark Lundholm made that dream possible a few years later by agreeing to provide us the performance rights. He didn’t make it hard, he didn’t make demands and he flat out refused to take money. Anyone who has ever been in theatre understands the uniqueness of his offer.

So here we are. Two rehearsals in to “Addiction: A Comedy of Substance” by Mark Lundholm. It has never been produced outside of Mark. This will be its Canadian debut. I am truly grateful to have the opportunity to direct this show.

If you are an addict; if you are recovering from addiction; if someone you know is an addict; if your life has been affected in ANY way by addiction, you MUST see this show. It will move you. It will surprise you. It will make you laugh… A LOT!

Third Degree Theatre presents…

Addiction: A Comedy of Substance

Written by Mark Lundholm

Directed by Aaron S. Davis

Performed by Richard Wiens

Tickets: $15 ($10 Students/Seniors)

Call 604-612-9713 to reserve yours

May 27, 28, 29, June 4 and 5, 2010

Second Storey Theatre

201-2550 Shaughnessy Street, Port Coquitlam, BC