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The Heidi Chronicles, Chapter 30: Dog star hounded by playwright

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This is Heidi. Last year, she was ‘discovered’ in the park by a pet talent agency; since then, she has embarked on a one-dog quest to break into the business. This is her Hollywood story as chronicled by Times staff writer Diane Haithman. And this is her “head shot”: That longing look was achieved by placing a biscuit just out of reach.

It has come to my attention that not everyone is as pleased by Heidi’s show business success as I am.

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I’ve failed to prepare Heidi for this sorry aspect of the entertainment industry. Along with training our girl to sit, stay and speak, I should have warned her about the many sharks she will encounter, flashing their fins in that murky sea called Hollywood. They are predatory creatures, blindly following show biz’ 10th Commandment: Thou shalt not get ahead before I do, especially if thou happeneth to be a dog.

That rule also extends to the theater community, where devoted people spend more time making less money than they might in Hollywood. I was dining recently with playwright Susan Rubin, artistic director of Indecent Exposure Theater Company, when I casually mentioned that Heidi was making her stage debut at the Kodak Theatre, in ‘Annie’ -- you know, that really big theater built especially to accomodate Heidi’s very good friends Dustin, Meryl, Angelina and Denzel at the Academy Awards.

Susan thought there was something very, very wrong with the fact that, even though she has been toiling in L.A. theater for a decade longer than her actual age, she has never written for, or appeared in, a production at the Kodak -- and Heidi managed to get there six months after her first acting lesson.

It didn’t help that I mentioned the name of the local publicist handling ‘Annie,’ and it turned out this same publicist once handled one of Susan’s plays. I’m learning that creative people don’t necessarily enjoy sharing representation with a German shepherd.

I was accused of using my journalistic connections to further Heidi’s career. What’s your point, I replied. Still, rather than argue, I laid a challenge on the table (along with one of Heidi’s snazzy new business cards): ‘Write Heidi into your play, and I’ll write you into ‘The Heidi Chronicles.’ ‘

As it happened, Susan’s latest play in development, the Hollywood satire ‘Tea,’ ends with a scene in which two unlikely lovers decide to part company, even though they have gotten so close that they have discussed adopting a dog.

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I read the script. It seemed to me that tension could be heightened by having the two say goodbye after they had adopted the dog, with the adoptee (Heidi) torn, looking sadly from one to the other onstage. It did not have to be a speaking role -- even though Heidi, who has tried improv, could easily improvise a dejected ‘woof.’

I also envisioned a minor tweak in the title. Instead of ‘Tea,’ something like -- just thinking out loud here -- ‘The Story of Heidi’?

Heidi and I showed up at a rehearsal for a staged reading of ‘Tea’ at the Bootleg Theater, ready to be included in the action. Unfortunately, it seemed that the playwright, director and actors were more concerned with putting on a good play than making sure Heidi got her chance to try new work in one of L.A.’s intimate, experimental theater spaces. In fact, we never even got to Heidi’s scene.

Although Susan agreed to meet Heidi later for a script consultation (photo at left) somehow I sensed the writer was ignoring all canine suggestions, no matter how insightful. Why?

‘I have enjoyed her as a collaborator,’ Susan said. ‘I have heard her speak, I’ve heard heard her ‘high’ voice and her ‘low’ voice. No question I love this dog -- she is empathetic, charismatic, and has better neckwear than I do.

‘But every time I say my lines or write a scene, I don’t require a little dry treat,’ Susan continued. ‘Maybe I would feel different if I saw she had a voice -- speaking for a liver treat is a little bit different from having a unique theatrical voice.

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‘The Kodak was the last straw for me. Heidi is, as perhaps others have pointed out, a dog.’

-- Diane Haithman

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