My comedy monologue, Modern Subdivision Zoning in the Present Day, will be performed as part of “Tales from the Script Festival” from Darkhorse Dramatists, on November 1 and 2, at 8:00 p.m., at the Ti-Ahwaga Performing Arts Center, in Owega, New York.
Adam Ruff performs the monologue, directed by Cat Robinson.
Cincinnati audiences will get a chance to see it on Tuesday, January 14, 2020, when the Cincinnati Playwrights Initiative presents my play, Lily Blossoms, or Modern Subdivision Zoning in the Present Day, at the Fifth Third Bank Theater in the Aronoff Center. More details on that to come.
So, here’s an updated theatrical resume.
The website: greghatfield.com (This is where you are now.)
All of my plays are available on the National New Play Exchange/Greg Hatfield. You must be a member to access them.
Greg Hatfield is a writer, director and actor, fondly remembered for being part of the award-winning comedy troupe, Dr. Browndog’s Monkeytime, who appeared not only in clubs and supermarkets, but at Cincinnati Playhouse and Ensemble Theatre, and their own television programs (youtube.com/dickbeaks).
His plays have been called “sophisticated”, “stylish and enchanting”, “uniquely entertaining”, and (thankfully) “funny”.
The 2019-20 season is shaping up as The Ten Minute Play (with a Nice Picture of Jimmy Carter) was selected for The Drama Workshop’s ten minute festival, Home Brew 4, in Cincinnati. Greg also directed one of the plays for the festival, Lessons by Teri Foltz. Later in the season, Lily Blossoms, or Modern Subdivision Zoning in the Present Day will be featured by the Cincinnati Playwright’s Initiative’s reading series.
2018 was a banner year for the lad, as his play, The Great Stalinski, was a finalist in the Pittsburgh New Works One Act Play Festival, which was then presented by the company’s New Works Play Readings series. Greg was also a featured playwright at the Midwest Dramatists Center’s Theatrical Conference in Kansas City, Missouri, where The Ten Minute Play was given a reading to great response. The play, Mundy Tuesday Friday, was selected as a finalist for Shakespeare in the Burg’s (Middleburg, Virginia) One-Act Festival.
A devoted student of actresses from the early 20th Century, Orson Welles, and the Barrymores, he has also written a five-episode comedy television series, Alice Goodheart, which has proven to be very hard to sell. His blog, Ruminations and Ramblings, can be found at greghatfield.com.
The Plays Written by Greg Hatfield:
The Cabots of Broadway
The King of Prussia
Mundy Tuesday Friday (Finalist, Shakespeare in the Burg, Middleburg, Virginia, 2018)
The Ten Minute Play (with a Nice Picture of Jimmy Carter) (Featured play, The Drama Workshop’s Home Brew 4 festival, Cincinnati, Ohio, 2019; Featured playwright, Selection, Midwest Dramatists Center Conference, Kansas City, Missouri, 2018)
Three Sisters in Repertory
The Great Stalinski (Finalist, Pittsburgh, PA, New Works One Act Play Festival, Presented by the company’s New Works Play Readings series, 2018)
The Sequel to Citizen Kane
Alice Goodheart (Five episode mini-series)
Directed by Greg Hatfield
Lessons by Teri Foltz
Clevenger’s Trial by Joseph Heller
The Wager by Mark Medoff
Man of La Mancha by Dale Wasserman
The Gingerbread Lady by Neil Simon
The Browning Version by Terence Rattigan
Sorry, Wrong Number by Lucille Fletcher
The Sandbox by Edward Albee
The Bald Soprano by Eugene Ionesco
Harvey by Mary Chase
My Three Angels
You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown
Oh Dad, Poor Dad (Mama’s Hung You in the Closet)
Lu Ann Hampton Laverty Oberlander
Actor, Director, Writer, Producer for stage and television:
Dr. Browndog’s Monkeytime (YouTube.com/dickbeaks)
My play, The Ten Minute Play (with a Nice Picture of Jimmy Carter), had a reading at the Midwest Dramatists Conference, near Kansas City, on Saturday, September 29. The conference gave me a chance to hob-nob with theater folk and just talk about plays for a few days. Playwright Sean Grennan and agent Beth Blickers were there all weekend giving feedback to playwrights as the plays were being presented.
It went great. Lots of laughs (which is good, since it is a comedy) and positive feedback from the judges. My actors were great. Brie Henderson as Gwen and Curtis Smith as Peter delivered the lines perfectly. Thanks to those two for wonderful performances.
I’m glad I went to the conference. The organizers were very good. I’ve done a few conferences in my career and I know how hard it could be. They took very good care of us. David Hanson, Vicki Vodrey, Lindsay Adams were all really really nice people. (David Hanson directed my play, too.
I met other playwrights from all over the country who attended and talked to them about their work and how they approached getting their stuff out there. I was happy to meet Tim Toepel (who had worked with Steve Allen), Morgan Trant Kinnally, Linda Paul, Sharon Goldner, and many others.
I was impressed with the actors the conference had for the readings. There was about 15-18 actors doing almost 50 plays and they were very good. It’s really an actor’s dream to have so many different parts to play. Shoutouts to Brie and Curtis (in my play, but good in others, too). Laura Jacobs and Nicole Hall were great, and I mean great, in everything they did over the weekend. I’ve got parts for both of them in a couple of plays of mine.
So now, we move on to other things. Thanks for reading. If you’re a member, all of my plays are on New Play Exchange under my name.
So, writing plays is pretty cool. My one-act play, The Ten Minute Play (With a Nice Picture of Jimmy Carter) has been selected for a reading at the Midwest Dramatist Conference in late September, in Kansas City. I’ll be attending and participating in panels and see my play being performed.
Another one-act play, Mundy Tuesday Friday, was selected over the summer as a Finalist by the Shakespeare in the Burg theater company in Middleburg, Virginia. Of course, it would have been nice to have the play actually produced, but the director of the company is very nice. I’ve received several nice rejections for this play from other companies. One day, somebody’s going to pick this up and stage it.
The biggest news (and I know I’m burying the lede) is that I just finished a full-length play called The Cabots of Broadway. It’s a comedy about three generations of actors. Each act is about one generation and how they became the First Family of the Theater. I’ve been submitting it to theater festivals around the country in the hopes that someone loves it and wants to do it. I love it. It’s my best work so far.
All of my plays ( I have several) are available on New Play Exchange (https://newplayexchange.org/users/14397/greg-hatfield) under my name.
So there you have it. Updates. While you’re here, go ahead and read some of the older posts. The Crosby post is good, as is the Grace Metalious post. I’m also fond of the Harpo and Dorothy Parker posts. And if you want to cry a little, The Day the Sheriff Shot My Dog is up your alley.
Thanks for reading.
I feel like I’m close to finishing some of the essays I’ve been working on. Just to give you a preview of what is in store for my readers, I have the following in various stages of completion:
A Short History of the Dublin Gate Theater, featuring the founders, Hilton Edwards and Michael MacLiammoir. This has been all-consuming lately, with the reasons detailed in my essay. Founded in 1928, in Dublin, Ireland, the Gate is one of the longest-consecutive running theaters in the world. It’s difficult writing about productions and actors you’ve never personally seen (except maybe in filmed clips), but I hope to get across the passion and brilliance of both Edwards and MacLiammoir, and all the paths that lead to them.
What Moss Hart Means to Me. Playwright and director Moss Hart was a very talented man, known for being George S. Kaufman’s most successful collaborator. He certainly influenced my life and Hart has seen a bit of a renaissance lately with the production of his autobiography, Act One, on Broadway, so I’ll take a look at his career and life.
I’m trying to figure out a couple of stories about, well, me. I’d like to write about a play I directed in college, Neil Simon’s The Gingerbread Lady, because it was memorable and interesting, I think. I might also write about my time in comedy, starting with The Act, my duo with Scott Levy. I may also publish some unpublished work, including parts of my novel The Dick Beaks Show, or sketches that didn’t make the cut for one reason or another.
This is all part of the bigger picture leading to my memoirs called Scrap Heap.
In the meantime, it’s the start of the holiday season, so my timeless Bing Crosby article gets shoved to the front.
See you soon.
A while back, I presented a book proposal on the deaths of famous writers. An editor suggested it for me and I sketched out some rough outlines of Poe, Hemingway and Dorothy Parker (Mrs. Parker’s entry is here on the blog, and I’m sure the Poe entry will show up sooner or later. Since I’m terribly late in posting my latest story, I’m filling in with this chestnut, complete now with visuals. I hope you enjoy it. — Hat
Ernest Hemingway: A Short Overview with No Insights into His Writing, Life or Otherwise
On the morning of July 2, 1961, Ernest Hemingway, quite possibly the finest writer America has ever produced, selected a shotgun he had bought from Abercrombie & Fitch from his gun cabinet, fired once, and blew his head off. He was just two weeks shy of his 62nd birthday.
At the time of his suicide, Hemingway was just a shell of his former self, both physically and mentally. He had suffered severe injuries, including a skull fracture, internal organs ruptured and spinal damage during a plane crash on safari in Uganda in 1954. More recently, Hemingway had undergone a series of electroshock treatments at the Mayo Clinic to help him with his bouts of depression and suicidal tendencies. The treatments, subsequently, erased his memories and Hemingway lost his ability to write. He became even more paranoid and depressed and drank up to a quart of liquor a day, which affected his mood.
It’s hard to measure the impact Hemingway has had on American literature. There have been many imitators, but few could match his prowess. His prose was distinctively his own voice, simple and direct, with a journalist’s eye for capturing detail. His heroes are all masculine, a “man’s man” and the public relished reading about activities that they could only dream about — bullfighting in Spain, African safaris, wild nights of drinking.
He was lauded as the finest writer of the 20th Century for his novels, The Sun Also Rises (which influenced a generation of “Beat” writers), A Farewell to Arms, For Whom the Bell Tolls and The Old Man and the Sea (which won the Pulitzer Prize in 1953). Hemingway won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1954.
Orson Welles remembered: “I saw Hemingway after he got the Nobel Prize, which Ordoñez, the bullfighter, used to call “the Swedish prize.” I don’t know why that always struck me as a funny name for it. Well, when Ernest got the Swedish Prize—not in his official speech, but to the press when he arrived—he said, “You shouldn’t have given it to me—you should have given it to Isak Dinesen.” There he was in Scandinavia, so it was very nice for her. I didn’t know how nice until I mentioned it to him one day in Paris. He flew into a rage. It seems he hated her. The old Baron Blixen—her husband—was Hemingway’s great pal out of Africa, and (Dinesen) had left him for another man. Finch Hatton, wasn’t it? The white hunter.”
(These are First Edition Covers. I will gladly take any off your hands.)
Leaving Cuba during Castro’s military coup, Hemingway and his fourth wife, Mary, made their home in Ketchum, Idaho. In the immediate aftermath of Hemingway’s suicide, Mary claimed the gun accidentally discharged and said Hemingway had left no note. President Kennedy called Hemingway one of America’s greatest authors and “one of the great citizens of the world.” Hemingway is buried in the Ketchum Cemetery in Ketchum, Idaho.
His father, a brother and a sister, and his granddaughter, the model and celebrity Margaux, all committed suicide.
Hemingway’s youngest son, Gregory, died a transsexual by the name of Gloria in a cell at a women’s jail in 2001.