Stewart Lee
A million years ago when I was performing Spam Scam in other countries, I was introduced to Stewart Lee by Paul Provenza.
He helped create “Jerry Springer: The Opera”, which was destined for hugeness over here until christians IN THE UK got upset. Ultimately, Stewart Lee was brought up on charges of BLASPHEMY.
Yes, blasphemy. He has a great joke about that, but I will let you discover it for yourself.
Needless to say, if christians in the UK were upset, imagine what would happen to them here, so it pretty much destroyed any chances for big productions in the U.S.
That is all beside the point of the show. It’s just a bit of background…
When I returned from Montreal, I was raving to everyone who would listen (the bride, really) about Stewart Lee and his show, 90′s Comedian. When you see it, you see what stand-up can be and why someone like Dane Cook gets so much shit. It’s an arena where important and beautiful ideas can be conveyed. I am of the mind that stand ups are the philosophers of our society.
On the other hand, watching his show throws me in to the same sort of sadness that happens while watching a perfect movie like Eternal Sunshine… or Being John Malkovitch. I realize that I’ll never do something that great. (I aspire to that sort of thing… which is why I never get anything done… whole other story.)
I mentioned this to Stewart Lee and, instead of poo-pooing it, he owned it and said that it was the culmination of over 20 years of work. So… without further ado.
The final performance, ever, has been documented on DVD. Get it. At the very least, it’s funny. I mean, there’s that. On the other side of that you’ll see a perfect hour of theater.
http://www.gofasterstripe.com/cgi-bin/website.cgi?page=videofull&id=6
Cameron’s Travels
1st off: The bride has started an awesome blog called “Rational Moms” (no, but we’re trying) and you can read all the rational awesomeness at rationalmoms.com.
2nd off: Though nothing is ever certain, I’m told that the song I co-wrote with Russ Parrish has made the Steel (Metal Skool, Metal Shop Danger Kitty) Panther record. I’m sure they’re just telling me this to be nice and will let me know later that the record company changed their mind and it’s not going to be on the record but sorry dude we really wanted it on there but you know how it goes. For this pessimistic reason, I remain cautious. That will be the 4th song I’ve ever had on a record. Pretty nifty.
So that’s that…
For the past three weeks, I’ve been acting in a movie called Par-Fection: The Golf Movie aka Dean sure hopes they change the fucking title. An old friend, Drew Rosenberg, was hoping to get Eric Stoltz and me to play a pair of evil plastic surgeons who… well the plot is quite convoluted and byzantine, but for various reasons, we end up putting a young guy under to give him breast implants against his will.
Yep.
Well, Eric passed on it and drew was in for a penny, so she got stuck with me. I think it worked out quite well, though. I tried to get Rod Maclachlan, Lorenzo Poindexter or Stuart Fratkin the gig as the other guy, but she found a guy named Christopher Showerman. We had a splendid time and I think that Chris and I had a nice thing going. We attempted to add an enormous level of homo-erotic subtext to the parts and, well, I’m pretty sure it’s inescapable.
Happily, there were a few truly wonderful things about the experience…
One of the things that has bummed me out so much about having almost had a really successful career in showbiz was the realization that the parts I *do* get are small and I’m destined for nothing but double digits on the call sheet… i’ll never get another lead role in anything. They’ll all be “cameos” which is simply a nice way of saying shitty little bone of a part. As #3 on the Golf Movie call sheet, I was happily proven wrong. As a skeptic, I love being proven wrong and this was no exception at all!!
More importantly, much of the cast and crew were literally children way back when I was on the map and they’d all grown up watching my youth on cable. It made them happy. I had a very nice Sullivan’s Travels experience learning that even though I’m probably going to be, as the The Movie Channel promo was so nice to point out, a footnote in the history of showbiz, there are people who have been affected & effected (but not impacted, damn it!!!) by the stuff I had done. I’ve always been aware of it, but for some reason, it sunk in during this experience. One of the leads told me one of the reasons he’s an actor is because of Summer School.
I’ve always enjoyed working with female directors, too. The lack of on set dick waving is really nice and allows one to do work instead of see who is smarter, cooler, richer or whatever. Director as mother is better than director as general. Working, even if it’s a stupid fucking golf movie about a guy who gets tits against his will, is already an internal battle. It’s nice to not have one going on externally, ass well.
I also got to go out of town for an extended period of time to a beautiful place called Borrego Springs. Yes, it was almost as hot as the surface of the sun, but the room sure was nice and the desert is so lovely during the late summer. Shooting was at the resort where we were staying, so I’d finish my day, walk to my room, change and be standing in the pool within 10 minutes of wrap.
The bride was able to come out and hang so that kept me from missing her and getting depressed.
Mainly, I didn’t beat the shit out of myself. I was rusty on my first day and encountered some memorization issues, but after that nightmare, it clicked in and I was able to do stuff I wanted to do. I kept feeling a hammy/mugging urge and was able to resist it for the most part, though some hacky shit managed to shit its way out of me, I’m sure. Perhaps the stuff that I’m hoping is “good” is boring. Dunno. I was attempting to simply let my inner conniving prick ooze out. We’ll see.
It was a good time. I was #3 on the call sheet. How cool is that?
Hello Dere!
Marty Allen y Betty Ford Center out of their minds on blow. I think that’s Harvey Korman over Marty Allen’s shoulder. It’s as if Korman is saying “hello dere”.
I was having dinner by myself at the Old World restaurant in Beverly Hills back before you were born and Marty Allen was at the table next to me.
The bride and I saw him perform with his new wife doing all of the Rossi bits 7 or 8 years ago. It was truly awesome and I don’t mean that in the ironic sense. He was funny and cool and knew what was up. Really cool.
I think I might be the next Marty Allen. That bums me out, but I think that’s my slot.
Hello dere!
Nigerian Spam Scam Scam Review – Reno, NV
A really great review from the Reno show. Not just because it’s a good review, but he also writes about a couple of the important ideas. (important in terms of the show… not in terms of the real world)
BY FORREST HARTMAN • FORREST @ RGJ.COM • JULY 31, 2008
Nearly everyone has received one: An e-mail from a supposed Nigerian, desperate for assistance from an American who will help retrieve millions of dollars from the Nigerian government. Usually, the e-mailer promises a huge sum to the kind soul who provides a few thousand dollars for bribes or other incidental expenses.
Most people recognize the scam and delete the message immediately, but there are those who respond. Dean Cameron, architect of “The Nigerian Spam Scam Scam” theatrical production, says the results can be disastrous. In some cases, Cameron noted during his Tuesday night Artown show, Nigerian scammers have kidnapped and killed Americans. So, he didn’t feel at all bad for striking up a long-running correspondence with a scammer and turning it into an extremely funny show.
In presentation, “Spam Scam Scam” is simple. Cameron and his costar, Victor Isaac, stand behind podiums. Each has a laptop, and they do the production reader’s theater style, illustrating points with graphics displayed on a large screen between them. Sometimes, Cameron even pauses to play recordings of actual phone conversations.This is theater for the electronic age, with computers and digital photos key to both the show’s presentation and concept. The technology does not, however, make things sterile or cold. Cameron’s personality is infectious, and his sharp sense of humor is everywhere.
“Spam Scam Scam” starts lecture-style, with Cameron talking in brief generalities about Nigerian scams. Then, just when it seems he will deliver a PowerPoint lecture, he slips on a red satin smoking jacket and takes on the affectations of a very different Dean Cameron. This version lives in Florida, is more than a little off balance and was able to pique his scammer’s interest with one simple line.
“Great! Do you have any toast?”What follows is snippets of Cameron’s correspondence with his Nigerian pal, carefully edited to keep things moving. Cameron reads his portion of the e-mail with a nasally voice and zest, and on the opposite end of the stage, Isaac handles the responses. While it’s likely that one man wrote all of the e-mails to Cameron, they supposedly came from multiple people, so Isaac creates distinct characters for each. And he is great.
Even better than the performances, is the material itself, all culled from the most unlikely conversations you can imagine. Cameron repeatedly prodded his would-be conman with purposeful typos and ridiculous misunderstandings, including references to the Western Onion wire service, a request to know which city he should visit in Amsterdam and the following jewel, written in response to a request to ship money via DHL.
“Who is DHL? Is that a hockey league. There is a minor league hockey team in Miami, but I don’t think they are Nigerian.”
Folks who want to read more of the correspondence, can do so at Cameron’s Web site — www.spamscamscam.com — but that’s not as much fun as watching Cameron and Isaac deliver the lines live.
If this show ever makes it back to Reno, theater lovers will do well to attend.
Pretty nifty, eh? I like the good reviews. Especially when they’ve actually been watching and listening!
Yay!!!
nigerian spam scam scam
The heroes at windwood theatricals, savings and loan, got us another booking for next Jan 24 y Jan 25 in beautiful Largo, Florida at the Largo Cultural Center. After adding it to the schedule at spamscamscam.com I realized that we will be doing this years’ entire season (except for next week in reno) in the space of three consecutive weekends.
We’ll also probably be doing the showcase the 3rd week of January. (Unless jewtopia fucks it all up again)
We’ll basically be on the road over four wees. Sort of like we’re on tour or some something. That’ll be pretty cool. Unless I have a job. Sucks to be Victor!!!
Reno Art Town
Ringo Starr & Nigerian Spam Scam Scam
I’m talkin’ Ringo god damned Starr!!! Ognir Ratts, if you remember that show back a million years ago.
Plus, our official photo was taken with a camera phone.
It’s a great world, ain’t it?
WTC Bounce House Slide
In fifty years, less if we factor time compression, there will be a World Trade Center bounce house. It will be really tall and kids can jump from windows to the bounce house pavement below. There will probably be some really cool technology then so there will be fire and you can feel like you’re hundreds of stories high.
Why is this in your head, you aks?
To wit:
Mister Snickers is a Commie!!!
Victor and I have a couple of spamscam shows coming up so I figured I’d try to make some extra cash like the pro’s do with MERCH MERCH MERCH!!!
This is the link to the actual shirt
Lucky?
I enjoy watching shows like Video Justice, Shockwave, World’s Wildest Videos and other real crappy crap crap crap t.v.
Why in the hell would you call a helicopter pilot whose helicopter crashes lucky? Why do people thank god when their houses are destroyed and say they are blessed? Do they not realize that their house was fucking destroyed?
I consider myself lucky. I’ve never been in a plane crash (if you don’t count that foaming the runway thing) and have never had my home destroyed. I’m lucky. Not a guy who has been hit by an 18 wheeler and been through a year of rehabilitation in the hospital.
Next caller.
Dr. Belknap
Oddly, one of the things that kept me alive growing up in Norman, Oklahoma was the boy scouts. I ended up becoming an eagle scout and then went on and was in an explorer post. the things we did at that time would cause national scandals now, but it was the 70′s and things were different. regardless, it was great fun and i made lasting friends and learned some good stuff and can still recite the trustworthy helpful-friendly-courteous-kind… thing.
One of the “dads” who spent his spare time wrangling a bunch of insane kids was Dr. Hal Belknap. He was insane and a great guy. He was a great man who never forgot what it was like to be a boy. Dr. B. died this week and, you know, that happens, but I’ve been thinking about him a lot more than I thought I might.
When the streets in Norman snowed over, he would tie a big plastic bowl/sled thing to the back of one of their cadillacs with 15 or so feet of rope and drive. I played in a band with his son, Hal, and lived fairly close by so I was one of the lucky ones who got invited to go sledding. Dr. Belknap would drive like a crazy person (which he basically was) around the neighborhood with a kid on the sled, rounding corners until the person on the sled bit it violently into a tree or parked car or something. Then some other fool would jump out of the car, get on the sled and hang on until physics made it impossible to do so any longer.
Down jackets would be ruined, pants ripped, soaked with ice and snow. hands would be so cold you couldn’t close or open them. we would have cuts and bruises and scratches everywhere. you could even lose a shoe or a boot. it was violent insanity with Dr. B. at the wheel and that is exactly what was called for. He was able to provide that on more than one occasion.
For at least 2 years in a row, the explorer post would travel to South Padre Island, Texas, for the pre christmas fishing trip. The trip never materialized because the seas were always too rough, but Dr. Belknap would somehow enlist at least one other poor sucker idiot dad to drive another car full of 15 year old boys for a weekend camping on the deserted sand dunes.
The drive down was stupid insane and, again, would cause a national furor now. you had at least two cars full of kids throwing water baloons, trash, fruit, bags of urine, cups full of tobacco spit (we all “dipped” skoal at the time) at each other. the cars would get trashed.
then, we’d hit the texas/oklahoma border. they sold fireworks year round so we would buy gross upon gross upon gross of bottle rockets and roman candles; literally buying all of the bottle rockets & roman candles a stand had in stock. many of those would be shot at the cars and if you were in Dr. Belknap’s car, you were assured a “victory” as he didn’t mind laying back for a while and then making a 100 mph ambush on another car. Or, he’d exit the freeway and then floor it so he could get back on the freeway ahead of the other cars so we could throw shit at the other kids in the cars who had sane people driving them.
once we hit the dunes of south padre island, Dr. B. would find a spot to camp conveniently far, far, far, far away from us. Us would be 10-15 guys and a couple of the girls in our explorer post. (No, we didn’t do any sexy time with them.) They were cool girls who were in our post. We were insane, not assholes.
The rest of the night was a bottle rocket war. it was beautiful. thousands of bottle rockets being shot at your best buddies in the crisp december air of south padre island, texas. bundled up with layers of clothes, goggles, hats, gloves… the air was cool enough so it wasn’t too hot… the layers protecting us from the few bottle rockets that would hit. the hits were surprisingly few and the injuries were zero. not a one. and, you know, there might have been a 7-11 about a mile away that someone might have been able to buy a case of beer from.
i’m thinking how, in this ultra-safe padded world, if one were to read on the news about an explorer post who drank beer and shot bottle rockets at each other, there would be a national outrage. bill o’reilly’s plastic face would be stretched beyond the breaking point and all the hippies would be shaking their heads at how we were probably gaybashing hitler youth who didn’t have enough love. but dr. b knew that he was taking us to an enormous bounce house for 15 year old boys (and a couple of really cool girls) and knew that we were responsible enough not to do something truly stupid. plus that the dunes were soft and forgiving enough and we were strong enough to take on anything that another 15 year old who had downed two beers, wearing two down jackets, trying to stop laughing long enough to “aim” a bottle rocket over a windy sand dune could dish out.
i am waxing sooo nostalgic, but it was absolutely the perfect definition of ‘innocent fun’.
So yeah. So… dr. belknap is gone. long live dr. belknap. and, you know, he wasn’t just a crazy freak who knew how to drive like an idiot in the snow, he was also a genius doctor who did trailblazing stuff in his field.
the picture of him here should give you an idea about how he was. look at his face. those smile lines. happy. excited to be there. the kind of doctor who would take your temperature, look at the thermometer and say “yep… about a quart low…” the photographer was probably laughing and having a hard time holding the camera steady, right? dr. belknap just told him a joke; said something really funny. maybe not. maybe i’m romanticizing the past. i doubt it.
i was reading his obituary and he had started another boy scout troop. even after his son was long gone. he was just a guy who was part of norman. i’m sure the behavior became “appropriate”. that’s good. we were a rare breed. we knew how to deal with freedom.
back then, both sides had that unspoken agreement about pushing the envelope.
i will manage to not write “these kids today” but i wasn’t able to keep the tears in.
they broke the mold with him. he was a great guy. look at that smile. man.
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