Anybody who knows me knows that I'm extremely critical of myself, sometimes to ridiculous lengths. I accept this quality, though, because if you don't strive to be perfect, then you're automatically settling for mediocrity. I don't settle. For anything.
Last night's performance, at Final Scenes, I'm sorry to say, was a complete failure for me. I can't tell you how demoralizing it is to work on something for weeks and weeks and then have it not come to fruition. Worse, we DID have that scene nailed down, and then we lost it when it mattered most. There were a variety of factors at work, and none of them are important. To the casual observer, the scene was probably perfectly acceptable. Here's the problem. I don't like acceptable. I like GOOD. It wasn't good. It wasn't fun. It didn't sparkle. And these are all things that it needed to be. And the only people to blame for this failure to spring to the audience are the actors doing the work.
This is not a good time to be beating myself up, since I have to kick it up a notch next week in London. I have to snap out of this funk, accept it as a loss, and move on quickly. It's just...painful to see what that could have been, and ultimately wasn't.
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