Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Bio

DON CUMMINGS is known for his fearless and humorous writing in books, essays, theatre and film. His love-sex-and-health memoir, Bent But Not Broken, is published by Heliotrope Books. It received fine praise from Kirkus Reviews. Cummings’ skills as a writer are apparent from the beginning. His prose is effortlessly clever, finding the entertaining medium between lyricism and sass. He has had short stories published in Rain TaxiEpiphany, and Cagibi. He often performs his personal essays at venues such as Comedy Central’s Sit ‘n Spin, HBO Workspace, Largo, Brooklyn Reading Works, Tell It!, Personal Space and True Story.

 

His many plays have been produced on both coasts: The Water Tribe was co-produced by Ensemble Studio Theatre/LA with VS. Theatre Company and published by Original Works. A Good Smoke was a semifinalist for the Eugene O'Neill Playwrights Conference, had a reading at The Public Theater, directed by Pam MacKinnon, with Meryl Streep, Debra Monk, Henry Wolfe, and Grace Gummer, and was optioned for Broadway. The Fat of the Land was a semifinalist for the Kaufman & Hart Award for New American Comedy and was published in The Coachella ReviewPiss Play is About Minorities So It’s Really Important, was produced as part of The New York Cringe Festival where it received the Golden Pineapple Award for best play. The Winner was a finalist for The Heideman Award at the Actors Theater of Louisville and was published in Post Road Magazine. His plays American AirStark Raving MadLoose Joints and Feed the Children! have been produced in Los Angeles. Box, a short film starring Mink Stole and Lou Liberatore, was an official selection of the Toronto Independent Film Festival, Dam Short Film Festival, New Filmmakers New York Festival, Twin Rivers Media Festival, and was distributed by Shorts International. Oh the Horror!, a graphic novel about zombies, is now live on Instagram and Tumblr @ohthehorrorla.

 

Don Cummings has appeared on television—most famously as someone’s favorite snarky waiter on Dharma & Greg—and in film, but more frequently on stage, having acted in over two hundred plays. A graduate of Tufts University with a degree in biology and the two-year acting program at The Neighborhood Playhouse School of the Theatre, he spends his days writing, reading, composing music, and helping other writers. He lives in Los Angeles with his husband and poodle while adhering to Hawaii’s time zone.  www.doncummings.net

Monday, May 16, 2022

The Water Tribe Published by Original Works and More


Hello Friends,

Working with such a talented creative team, I'm a lucky playwright. The Water Tribe has been published by Original Works and is ready for pre-order purchases. Thank you to Jason Goldberg and the whole Original Works team! It's a wonderful company and their catalogue is extensively cool. Everyone loves to read plays, right? And then put them up on their feet!  And with the Pre-order, you get a discounted price.

With Tricia Small directing, and all the great design and assistant directing work by Adam Glover, with Tyler Matthew Burk wearing hats galore, Liz Ross and Crystal Jackson producing for EST-LA and VS. Theatre Companies, Shara Abvabi as lighting designer, Maya Braunwarth as our trusty stage manager, Sharon Freedman wearing more fun hats, a perfect cast that included Hannah Prichard, Christopher Reiling, Jayne Taini, Jon Gentry, Alexandra Daniels, and a whole lot of friends and theater folk who kicked in their time, it just had to have a successful first run. And it did. Enjoy reading it! (But first, you have to order it. Please.)

Claudia is young, parentless, minimally employed, and almost without family or friends but she remains upbeat about her future and confident in her quest to form a personal tribe for herself and her boyfriend Johnny. But Johnny has problems of his own. He has launched into adulthood but still struggles to cut the cord from his concerned mother while searching for a connection to his long-absent father. As the few people Claudia has in her life begin to fall away and the problems in her relationship are laid bare, she teeters on the brink of catastrophe in this searing, darkly funny tragicomedy about the critical importance of community, identity, and home.

The Water Tribe is one of the strangest plays I've ever seen, a study in insanity, but it'll be a long time before I forget it.
--Willard Manus, TotalTheater
 
You simply can't take your eyes away from its hot mess of a female protagonist or Hannah Prichard's tornado of a lead performance. For those willing to put up with a whole lot of crazy, The Water Tribe makes for one wild ride.
--Steven Stanley, StageSceneLA
 
It's a wild ride, and much like a roller coaster, you feel both a mix of relief and nostalgia the moment it's over. I highly recommend this play.
--Matthew Robinson, LATheatrebites
 
Cummings tills the writer’s soil exposing an unearthed field, the barren aridity of lost souls, and the underbelly of civilization is on full display, which at times makes the audience writhe in their seats.  Sometimes it is hard to watch as this part of humanity collapses into ruin. The original work of art is certainly theatrical and something to ponder long after you leave the theatre. Run! And take someone you think is living on the edge. You'll both be enlightened.
--Joe Straw #9
There's More to Life


I have to tell you--I'm writing a novel. The first draft is written. The second draft, with many notes, was compiled with great detail. I'm working on the super-clarifying third draft. I know some authors love to tell you, "This story is about Janine, an insomniac-anosmic who lives in Brussels. After discovering a portal in a late-night tasteless waffle, she exhaustively sniffs her way to find the stinky truth about the cunning EU overlords who stole her freedom. It's prepared in quatrains of rhyming tweets."  I can assure you, my novel has nothing to do with waffles or any of that other stuff. I will also tell you: the story takes place over the course of seven days and the first paragraph mentions the delivery of some new socks. I think you'll like it. Maybe you won't. Look, I can't please everyone.  (Thank you, Tina Fey, for all that you do. And the photographer--who(m) I cannot find.)

If it's possible you missed it, here is My Last Book: Bent But Not Broken
 

*


As you may have been told or have experienced through your own ears, I have been known to perform music here and there. Some comedy. (No dancing.) I have something coming up where I sing original tunes of pure love. If you find yourself in Southern CA on May 21, come have a fun time. It's a short show, with others. You may have many other plans, but if you do hand over your third Saturday night in May, you might win a prize. I know you'll win a prize. And maybe you, too, will get up there next month and present your music-comedy-fire/eating. Tix link coming soon:  The Verdugo Huut:Shameless Love Songs


A Don Cummings sample:
A Song About My Favorite Insurrectionist President

 

You ever live in Los Angeles and feel like Zombies have taken over and all you are trying to do is survive? Like a person? Then this graphic novelization of a screenplay is for you. I wrote it with Bradford Brillowski, one of America's dryest humorists. It's illustrated by Peter Landau. I won't try to describe Peter's style since pictures paint a thousand words. But it's all downright cheeky! Check us out.

@OhTheHorrorLA on Instagram

In Chronological Order on Tumblr

"Pay Attention. Something great might be happening to you."

                                                           — Don Cummings
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Tuesday, May 11, 2021

The Winner


Back to: The Archive


 Post Road Magazine  Issue #25



The Winner

Don Cummings



Characters:


Lydia       Jeffrey's Wife

Jeffrey      Lydia's Husband

Matilda    Their Servant


Place: 


A remote building on the edge of North America


Time: 


The year 2309


 

(A regal woman, Lydia, is dressed in an evening gown. Not tacky, but not your taste.  She is middle aged, striking, and more to the point, has been used to getting her way her whole life. She wears a ridiculous diamond necklace. Perhaps a hand mirror lies nearby.  Her husband, Jeffrey, a bit older, in a fine suit, sits across from her. He has the mien of a king. His royal air chokes the room with currents of smugness. Together they drink wine, imperial as Americans can be.  Near them is one silver canister—the type used by mountain climbers to breathe at very high altitudes. Empty canisters lie about. There is a hollowness of sound, an emptiness to the world.)

 

LYDIA

Eighteen o’three was a very good year.

 

JEFFREY

The revolution did not alter the fermentation of a grape.

 

LYDIA

Revolutions rarely do. 

 

JEFFREY

Those silly French. What did they ever achieve?

 

LYDIA

Nothing apparently.  They’re all dead. 

 

(Lydia laughs uproariously.)

 

JEFFREY

(Laughing)

Smug frogs.

 

LYDIA

(Gasping for a bit of air)

So superior. 

 

JEFFREY

With their socialism.

 

LYDIA

And their long vacations.

 

JEFFREY

(Gasping for a bit of air, too)

Well they were wrong, weren’t they? 

 

 

LYDIA

Imbeciles. My happiest day was when we bought the whole damn country. Ooh.

 

JEFFREY

What is it?

 

LYDIA

(Alarmed)

My lungs. I barely have the strength to tip my glass. Jeffrey?

 

JEFFREY

(Resentful)

You should never have acquired the lungs of a child. They were not developed enough for adult exertions.

 

LYDIA

They were the last ones available.

 

JEFFREY

Not true.

 

LYDIA

Sharon was a perfect match genetically.

 

JEFFREY

Lucky for you.

 

LYDIA

She owed it to me.

 

JEFFREY

She was brave.

 

LYDIA

She couldn’t outrun me.

 

JEFFREY

She was a bowlegged baby. We neglected to reset her bones.

 

LYDIA

She deserved what she got. I am stronger and far more clever.

 

JEFFREY

Your most attractive qualities have served you well.

 

 

LYDIA

Absolutely. Matilda!

 

(Matilda enters. She is shorter than Lydia, certainly less imperial.  She is their servant. She is extremely sad, but sturdy.) 

 

MATILDA

(Barely able to breathe)

What can I do for you? 

 

JEFFREY

Pour us some more wine.

 

MATILDA

Yes, Jeffrey.

 

LYDIA

He’s Jeffrey now?

 

JEFFREY

I thought I would give her a bonus.

 

LYDIA

Haven’t we given her enough? You can pour me some more wine, Matilda.

 

JEFFREY

Please pour Lydia more wine.

 

MATILDA

I will happily pour the sweet mother more wine.

 

LYDIA

You have been a very good help to us, Matilda. Don’t push it.

 

MATILDA

It has always been my pleasure. There’s nothing left to push.

 

LYDIA

Do you know what I miss most of all, Matilda?

 

MATILDA

What’s that, Lydia?

 

LYDIA

When you would pack for me. I loved how you could pack my trunks.

 

MATILDA

You were very particular.

 

LYDIA

But fair. Wasn’t I always fair?

 

MATILDA

You never hit me with a hairbrush

 

JEFFREY

And every gown Lydia wore, every jewel she placed on her neck, every crown she wore on her head, you got to touch them, Matilda. You must consider yourself a very lucky woman.

 

MATILDA

Of the luckiest kind.

 

LYDIA

Remember Christmas of three years ago when you drilled the last one million barrels?

 

JEFFREY

We practically got to the core of molten magma!

 

LYDIA

Our picture was in all media all over the world with me wearing my Hope Diamond. 

 

JEFFREY

You were a perfect decoration.

 

LYDIA

I could have worn the jewels we acquired from The Vatican. 

 

JEFFREY

That would have been de trop. Such good times. 

 

LYDIA

Your father was right.

 

JEFFREY

Yes he was. The future was in oil.

 

LYDIA

Oh Jeffrey, so was the past. It was always oil.  

(Gasping for a breath)

The fields of oil are the greatest kingdom on earth. 

 

 

JEFFREY

And we ruled them with benevolence.

 

LYDIA

With grace.

 

JEFFREY

We were the wealthiest people to have ever lived. We owned it all.

 

LYDIA

We were flesh Gods.

 

MATILDA

You were despots.

 

LYDIA

Despots? Matilda, you do not know what you are saying,

 

JEFFREY

She doesn’t know the meaning of the word. She’s just a parrot.

 

MATILDA

You were tyrants. You killed everyone who got in your way.

 

JEFFREY

We were not killers.

 

MATILDA

There’s no one left on earth! What are you talking about?

 

LYDIA

Oh Matilda. You must one day accept Darwinism.

 

MATILDA

One day? This is the last one! 

 

(Matilda grabs the canister and tries to open it. It will not. She bangs it, throws it against the wall, recovers it and holds it close to her chest.)

 

LYDIA

Jeffrey, stop her. I can barely move.

 

JEFFREY

Matilda. Put it down.

 

 

MATILDA

(Barely any strength)

No. 

 

JEFFREY

Matilda, I don’t want to waste my last few breaths on having to kill you.

 

                        (Jeffrey gets up and moves slowly toward Matilda. Almost impossible.)

 

MATILDA

I’m in your way just like everyone else then? Just like the last few Italians, and all those Chinese? Did you think you could turn all your enemies into cash? It took the Woolly Mammoth thousands of years to become fuel. And you thought you could do it in a few months?!!  You were a tyrant. A killer.

 

LYDIA

Jeffrey bought me Antarctica. Right after South America.

 

MATILDA

You talk of Darwin?  That was a natural thing.  Not what you did—

 

LYDIA

When we purchased Mars from the Russians, I wore the red silks of Catherine the Great at the acquisition ball. 

 

JEFFREY

(To Matilda)

You killed Sharon.

 

MATILDA

That shit ain’t true.

 

JEFFREY

You plunged a knife into my daughter’s belly.

 

MATILDA

Only because Lydia made me.

 

JEFFREY

You killed her.

 

MATILDA

Lydia held her down. She needed her lungs.

 

JEFFREY

But you killed her. 

MATILDA

She was a brat. I was happy to do it.

 

JEFFREY

You must be executed. 

 

(Jeffrey gets to Matilda. She hides the canister inside her clothes. Jeffrey rips open her garment and grabs it. Matilda slaps it out of his hand. Jeffrey slaps Matilda so that she falls. She plunges herself onto the canister and rolls with it. Jeffrey gasps. He reaches out his hand to insist on a handover. Matilda stops all the fighting and looks at the canister, calmly, to see if she is missing some sort of trick.)

 

LYDIA

(To Matilda)

You’re so stupid, you can’t even open it.

 

MATILDA

(Hating Lydia for eternity)

You put some sort of lock on it.

 

(Jeffrey grabs Matilda so she drops the canister. He kicks it toward Lydia.)

 

JEFFREY

You have to be executed, Matilda. This is your day of reckoning. 

 

MATILDA

You’re gonna kill me like everyone else?

 

JEFFREY

It is time to go outside, Matilda.

 

LYDIA

Go outside and get some fresh air, you hard worker! You deserve it. 

 

(Lydia thinks this is the funniest thing anyone has ever said.)

 

JEFFREY

It’s time for your federally approved execution, mandated by me.

 

LYDIA

By us.

 

MATILDA

Spare me.

 

JEFFREY

You are to be executed right now. WALK OUT THAT DOOR, GRACIOUSLY.

 

LYDIA

(Smug joke to herself)

I love executions. I feel so vindicated when the less advantaged die.

 

JEFFREY

Lydia, go open that door.

 

LYDIA

With pleasure. 

 

(Lydia holds her breath, runs to the door and opens it and then sits back down, trying to pretend she didn’t just exert herself. She is exhausted.) 

 

LYDIA

Quick! Quick! Get her out of here and close it!

 

MATILDA

You don’t rule the world, Jeffrey.

 

JEFFREY

Yes I do. 

 

(There is a huge scuffle between Jeffrey and Matilda, Jeffrey trying to get Matilda out the door, Matilda hanging onto him for life. During the fight, there is one passionate embrace, to commemorate what was once between them. Matilda looks up at Jeffrey, asking for love and mercy.)

 

MATILDA

I want to live. The sunsets are even more beautiful now. Why can’t we figure out how to live?

 

 (Jeffrey is softened for a second and then--)

 

JEFFREY

Go.

 

(Jeffrey tosses Matilda out the door. Lydia secrets away the canister.)

 

MATILDA

(From outside)

Fuck me and kill me like everyone else!  

 

(Matilda struggles and dies.)

 

LYDIA

Such a shame the scientists couldn’t figure out a way to make oxygen.

 

JEFFREY

They were morons! Could you imagine the expense?

 

LYDIA

Remember in Geneva when we executed the last seven of them? 

 

JEFFREY

It was the best day of my life. Smug bastards. 

 

(Jeffrey sits in his chair.) 

 

JEFFREY

Open the canister. I can barely get a—

 

LYDIA

You exerted yourself too much dear. She wasn’t worth it. 

 

JEFFREY

Open it.

 

LYDIA

I—I don’t know how to dear. It’s so tricky.

 

JEFFREY

Give it to me. I can do it.

 

LYDIA

I can’t walk all the way over there. It would waste too much energy.

 

JEFFREY

Lydia, come here now!

 

LYDIA

Oh Jeffrey, I cannot right now…I’m enjoying my long and graceful neck. 

 

JEFFREY

(Gasping)

Lydia, I command you to bring that canister to me right now.

 

LYDIA

Have Matilda do it. She did so many other nice things for you—Oh that’s right. We just executed her. Goodbye Jeffrey. You were a great provider.

 

JEFFREY

(Lightheaded)  

Lydia, please. Lydia! Lydia, my prize.  Sharon was such a nice little girl. She called me Daddy. She would have loved Antarctica. Remember the penguins?

 

LYDIA

That was over three hundred years ago. You just remember the footage.  Jeffrey…

 

                        (Jeffrey is dead.)

 

LYDIA

Jeffrey?…They say you never know what it’s like to be a widow until it actually happens.  It’s not so bad. 

 

(Lydia opens the canister with ease and takes a breath and gains strength.) 

 

I had the most beautiful life ever lived. It was glorious.

 

(Lydia takes another breath.) 

 

I won. 

 

(Lydia takes another breath from the canister.) 

 

No one is better than me. I own everything. 

 

(Lydia thinks to stand up in triumph but realizes it is best to conserve her energy. One arm goes up, the champion. But there is no one to witness the glory. She knows she is on the brink of death. Lydia takes one more breath.) 

 

I have such a pretty necklace.

 

 

 

Fade to Black.

 

Fade up to Orange and the shadows of Roaches. 

 

Lydia is frozen stiff with her hand to her necklace.

 

To Black.




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