Two guys walk into a bar. Instead of ending with a punch line, they commiserate with each other over cold beers as they discuss the fresh St. Patrick’s Day death of the print edition of the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. That's where one of the two guys, Tom Paulson, spent years asking pesky questions covering science and where many of his colleagues suddenly saw their journalism careers end with a crushing finality. That real-life beer-sodden chat with playwright Paul Mullin inspired an idea.
The result is a current play – “It’s NOT in the P-I.” Since its Nov. 6 opening, it has performed to sold-out audiences on weekends. It closes Sunday.
The PostGlobe today caught up with Mullin, who, with longtime co-collaborator Dawson Nichols, recruited several local playwrights to write what is akin to various dramatic, humorous skits. To do it, the playwrights went out to interview reporters, editors, at least one janitorial worker and some folks at nearby businesses affected by the P-I’s closure. In this way, they collected “articles” for a “living newspaper,” which they producers say is a theatrical form used around the US by the Federal Theater Project in the 1930s.
Lots of people at the Saturday performance we attended clearly seemed to enjoy the result, even if a couple P-I folks themselves publicly took at least some issue with the play in their blogs, most notably former art critic Regina Hackett and to a lesser degree cartoonist David Horsey. Much of the Saturday audience stayed around afterward and seemed to listen intently to a specially arranged panel discussion exploring the future of news reporting in the Pacific Northwest in the wake of the city’s feisty newspaper. Laughter erupted at a quip by panelist Mike Lewis, former P-I columnist and current co-owner of The Streamline tavern in Queen Anne, who said:
"A lot of people mourn the passing of the P-I -- even some who read it."
But we digress. Highlights from our Q&A with Mullin:
Q. What surprised you about the audience reaction?
Mullin: Honestly, I thought we'd pique people's interest and really hoped for such a huge response, but one can hope and still not reasonably expect something. I think that's where I was: reasonably not expecting much. Thus, I'm delighted that it seems to have such broad appeal. I think the P-I is missed more than even the biggest fans of the paper imagined.
I'd say 75 percent of the journalists-- reporters and editors-- that came accepted the piece in the spirit it was offered. A quick, perhaps even sloppy attempt at telling a patchwork of the stories that made the P-I special and its closing as a print entity a loss. Stories I would hasten to point out that no one else was telling publicly. Perhaps I was surprised at the thin skin and arrogance of that other 25 percent. There was a sense among some of them that show people had no standing to tell these stories. That we aren't journalists and how dare we employ their pain for the sake of our show. My response to this is: we are not journalists. We have no standing to tell any stories or we have standing to tell them all. We're show people. Our stock and trade is other people's pain. Ideally, when we deal with it we do so in a way that helps compassionately share it around to everyone in the audience. But bottom line: pain is our business. Frankly I'm a little surprised that journalists are surprised by this. Wasn't it you guys that invented the adage: "If it bleeds it leads?"
I guess I'm also a bit surprised that the "Big House" Theaters in Seattle didn't recognize this piece for what it is: an amazing chance to expand their audience share. But then, after 17 years as a playwright in Seattle, I suppose it's really shame on me for not recognizing that the Big Houses are nearly deaf, dumb and blind when it comes to recognizing new opportunities. If you think the newspaper paradigm is sick, you should check out the regional theatre model.
Q. What surprised you, if anything, about the audience reaction to the media panels?
Mullin: Both the amazingly warm regard that so many people had for the P-I and for newspapers in general, and conversely the glibness with which some people greet this HUGE paradigm shift in news coverage.
Q. I wonder why only two reporters' actual names were used in the play. I suppose it's to protect identity. But I particularly wonder in the case of the business reporter (presumably Dan Richman), who came off looking like a white knight? [As the play portrayed it, he badgered fellow reporters to tell him whether they were offered jobs to work at the online-only P-I, only to be rebuffed with many “no comments.” In real life, Richman's survey resulted in this story.]
Mullin: Alas, there was really no thought behind that decision. We basically staged the plays that playwrights turned in. Some used actual names, some didn't based on their own determinations. Remember: We're show people -- we don't subscribe to or even know all the protocols of journalistic attribution. That said, going forward we will look into putting a little bit more rigor around those decisions. We are definitely learning as we go.
Q. You eloquently spoke at the Saturday media panel on many points -- for example, how the P-I at one time had a Beijing bureau; now the paper's gone, and today's bloggers don't have a London bureau. Also, theater folks for a long time have “worked for nothing but love,” so journalists' current plight is nothing novel, basically. Would you like to make these points again for the general public?
Mullin: I think a lot of people miss the fundamental point that newspapers at the P-I's level, or the Baltimore Sun, or what have you, are, or were, institutions that brought huge institutional power to bear on the business of gathering news. That meant resources: boots on the ground in foreign bureaus, coteries of lawyers to protect reporters from intimidation. Those are not resources that can be duplicated by an army of individual actors, no matter how large. It's the difference between the trillions of cells that make up one human being, and say, a trillion amoebas floating in the sea. As much as anyone might justifiably suspect the corporate model, complexity naturally has its advantages.
Q. Have all performances been sold out? Are the remaining three already sold out? What's the theater capacity?
Mullin: Tickets are very much still available for the last remaining three shows. The theater holds 140 seats. We make 100 of those seats available for advance sale, so in theory, there always 40 seats available on a "pay what you will" basis at the box office the day of the show.
Q. How soon could the play return?
Mullin: The short answer is: soon! One of the first principles of this piece is quick turn around, in order to treat the stories as news and not history. The longer answer is: we're not quite sure. We need to do some strategy brainstorming to decide the best way to proceed. Whether to revise and reissue this "edition" or go on to cover a whole new subject in a new "edition".
DETAILS
"It's NOT In the P-I"
When: 7:30 p.m. Friday, Saturday; 2 p.m. Sunday. Show closes Sunday.
Where: North Seattle Community College "Stage One Theater," 9600 College Way North, Seattle. It's in the ground floor of the Library.
More info about the play: See this story from The Stranger
Cost: Free. A suggested donation of $10 is requested by producers to help finance future productions by NewsWrights United. Advance reservations can be made for a $10 donation at Brown Paper Tickets. Show up early, even if you have tickets. (Seats can fill up quickly, and you may risk being turned away.)
SIDEBAR
WHERE ARE P-I FOLKS NOW?
So where did the more than 100 staffers of the print edition of the P-I go?
Former P-I food editor Rebekah Denn helps answer that question by providing links to some colleagues’ web sites or blogs here. (Some links are outdated, as some people have gone on to other things.)
Former investigative reporter Ruth Teichroeb recently surveyed former staffers about what they're doing now. See her results here.
FURTHER READING
Death of a Newspaper Draws a Big Crowd (by P-I cartoonist David Horsey)
Former P-I art critic Regina Hackett takes issue with the play in her review
The Dying Theater Industry Stages a Play about the Dying Newspaper Industry (by Brendan Kiley of The Stranger)