John Patrick Shanley

In this era of celebrity adulation, where ludicrous media space is spent to over-describe everything down (almost] to the size, color and consistency of the bowel movements of the rich, famous and frequently feckless, consider what happens when an ordinary mortal attempts to communicate with a Famous Personage, whoever he or she may be.

 I went to see DOUBT on stage in New York. Cherry Jones played the nun role recreated by Meryl Streep in the film (big ‘names’ raise box-office revenues, though Jones is brilliant in her own right). Both forms were written and directed by John Patrick Shanley.  The author’s brief program autobiography was charming: down-to-earth and self-deprecating. it recounted the upbringing of a rebellious Bronx-born kid who was expelled from several schools but succeeded anyway after the Marines straightened him out. It gave his email address and invited playgoers’ comments. The play was magnificent. Flying home, I composed an email to send later, praising the play and thanking Shanley for his fine work. I did not expect to hear back—Shanley’s a big dog and I respect that.

 Wonder of wonders, he answered graciously. It was not ‘canned.’ He took time to read my email and answer it in detail. I asked about his next play; he told me the title—DEFIANCE—and when it would open in Manhattan. When the play DOUBT came to San Francisco, I wrote to him again and told him how it had gone (excellently). He answered again, promptly and kindly, and described the (then) upcoming film. A class act.

 Many of us suffer from over-commitment and stress, much of it linked to people with whom we must communicate professionally while staving off the unwanted and unsolicited stuff. Wading through emails is a chore; they seem ‘free’ but take time and trouble to process, even for a certified nobody such as myself (for me, >100/day). Think what it’s like for the big dogs. But Shanley took the time and trouble to make a generous personal gift with his replies. He squeaked when squoken to, and it’s extraordinarily rare.

 When we are done with our lives and are departing this naughty, nutty world, I think we will make an unusual discovery: that we were all, au fond, here for each other, from the richest and most powerful to the humblest and poorest. It’s perhaps the prime directive, or close. As one simple example, try going without your garbage pickup for a couple of weeks and you will see the importance and respectability of that service and its staff.

 The same applies to all of us, but many important and powerful people never think that their roots may reside in genetic advantage (“lucky sperm”) or just plain luck (an agent plucked J.K. Rowling’s first POTTER book from his slush pile one dreary Friday winter evening in England; she is now the richest woman in the UK, though an agent reading unsolicited submissions is a miracle and publication is even longer odds: agents respond to a fraction of a percent of what comes in). Of course time/place luck works both ways: if you were on a 9/11 airliner, you would be innocent but dead.

Shanley gets it, and he gets my vote for a kind and considerate heart, as well as a dazzling talent. He deserves his success and I salute him.