As a reward for spending 2 and a half hours of my weekend at uni working (not to mention staying back another 2 and a half hours last night), as well as my first official driving less (not too bad, thank you), I sat down to watch Doris Day and Jimmy Stewart in The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956).

My first thought after reading the plot summary was “gee, it’s that similar to The 39 Steps?” (yes, it is… well sort of).

(As I type a bunch of drunks are outside my window yelling and destroying things. This is a weekly occurance. Would it be so bad to outlaw alcohol?)

Whilst watching the film I had two major thoughts. 1) Wow, Doris Day is actually a pretty impressive actress and 2) I know what’s going to happen in the end! I was pretty sure I hadn’t read any book it was based on or seen the movie before, so that ruled those out. I even knew there was an original film it was based on, also directed by Alfred Hitchcock from 1934, but references to the original always featured images of Peter Lorre, and I just assumed he was familiar because I had just started (but not yet finished) watching M, the German film directed by Fritz Lang.

Watching the making of, they showed more extensive clips of the original, and I realised I had indeed seen the original. Checking my DVD shelves, I found I had two copies of it, and the one I watched was given to me several years ago. All I remember of it is that it degenerated into a big shootout at the end and my mind completely wandered off because I wasn’t sure who was shooting at who.

(A car with a light on top - not police, hopefully a new vigilante - came and herded the drunks away)

On another note, it was Australian born composer Arthur Benjamin who wrote the piece of music heard in the Royal Albert Hall in both versions of the film. Entitled “Cantata / The Storm Clouds”, the work features a single cymbal crash, important for the plot. If you want a copy of the work, the easiest way is to grab the CD of Elmer Bernstein conducting Bernard Herrmann, which is cheap on eBay.

That concludes todays lesson of FILM 101. Please be sure to read chapter 5 before next class.

Sitting in the stuffy lecture theatre today, I had a very scary experience. The air conditioning was not working, and with very little air circulation, it was hot and I was surrounded by stink. It was just when the severe hunger was kicking in that the guest speaker announced he had free things to give away.

Almost as if they had electrics hooked up to their chairs, 40 performance students starts flailing their arms and screaming like Oprah audience members.

For the record, we each got a free (crappy) pen and a hand ful of out of date fliers. The guy was just clearing space in his office.

I have work to do.

My first official driving lesson is booked for this saturday, at the curious time of five past two. In a weekend that is already proving to be my demise, this has made things a whole lot worse.

I was possibly even okay with it until the instructor said we’d be going down to a nearby road “where there are wide roads and few cars”. I prefer no cars. Last time I drove around the block (albiet in a manual which I couldn’t handle, and with really tiny roads), I got magically stuck between a big construction truck on my left, and a garbage truck (I kid you not) on my right. I was making the Marge Simpson groan.

I am also curious about how long I get through the lesson before my wits snap and I start screaming “I don’t want to drive anymore!” repeatedly. I’ve never driven for an hour before. Well, maybe just. But that’s in total.

I’m more than a little nervous about this weekend.

This week and next week are stressful ones for me uni-wise. I have a lot of work to get done, and lots of assessments due. It must be time for mid-session marks in. At the end of next week, I’ll apparently have three whole weeks entirely assessment free, before all hell breaks loose during what is quietly called Week 9. As much as I was looking forward to uni going back and giving me something to do during the days, I’m now looking forward to the work being completed. I don’t mind the travel yet, but I’m sure I’ll get sick of that as the weather turns and I arrive home dripping wet (it has only rained on me once so far).

In the meantime, if I yell at you, it’s probably just because I’m stressed. If you don’t hear from me, same deal.

I often get asked (okay, so I don’t) why I buy cast albums as many cast albums as my budget allows, and I think this article really perfectly summarises the importance of supporting the industry.

Just because a company is able to produce CDs does not mean they are a large organisation with plenty of funding behind them. As the article points out, sales figures and revenue from musical cast albums greatly influence the possibility of the very next show being recorded, right across the spectrum of record labels.

In my admittedly biased view, cast albums are becoming less a commercial activity, but an artistic service - a way of retaining a record of the culture and making it available to Johnny music or theatre student in the middle of no where. It is not fair, then, to rely on a handful of small, struggling companies to pick up the responsibility and financial cost of making these recordings. The community who listen to the music must at some point put forward some cash by buying the CDs to support the recording labels, particularly because they are doing such an amazing job. At Sh-K-Boom, run by a popular broadway performer and her husband, they’ve been also relying on the producers of the production to chip in to preserve their show and I think this is the model that will become more common in the future. If I were in the situation of the actors and creative team of the shows, I would personally invest money in the recording to ensure it happens. Even if that money is pumped straight back into your pocket through your outrageously high recording wage, there will be more money in the pot to spend on other things, and you’ll eventually see a little money for the recording through royaltys. I may be idealistic, but I think an effectively un-paid day or two in a recording studio to make a document of your work is not a bad deal at all. Often now the composer’s name appears on the producers list of a recording, but I’m not sure if this is the result of financial of merely creative input.

Yesterday my latest order of My Life With Albertine and First Lady Suite (both released by PS Classics, a label I’ve spoken about before), and Jay Records‘ A Man Of No Importance arrived. Just today I plonked down another $25 (shipping to Australia is no fun) for Michael John LaChiusa’s See What I Wanna See which is going to spectacular from what I’ve seen. In doing so, not only do I get extremely well produced CDs with great production standards and very detailed notes and packaging, but I also have the satisfaction that next time a show comes around that I hope is recorded, I’ve put my money where my mouth is and voted.

That said, I am disappointed that the Encores! series of concerts haven’t been able to find recording arrangements, and because of it we’re loosing much needed recordings of The Apple Tree and 70, Girls, 70, amongst others. Good news about the London production of Sunday In The Park With George, Grey Gardens and the new revival of The Pajama Game.