Shia LaDouche was supposed to make his Broadway debut opposite Alec Baldwin and Tom Sturridge in the play Orphans, but he dropped out just a week into rehearsals and the old “creative differences” excuse was the reason given for why he quit that bitch. I figured that meant everybody was busy being creative while he was in the corner drunkenly punching a metal folding chair, because it told him his performance in Transformers was emotionally lacking. Others figured that Shia was fired because when he got into the same room as Alec, the asshole levels exploded and the 100-year-old bricks on the walls started to break and crumble. Those who figured that were right! I think.
A source told The New York Times that director Daniel Sullivan was worried about Shia’s “performance choices” and had several talks with Shia and the producers about this before he decided that the role should be recast. Shita (typo and it stays) couldn’t keep his mouth shut about this and he went a Twitter rampage last night, tweeting the e-mail he wrote to everyone involved in the production and then he posted everyone’s responses. Shia’s email was co-produced by his local weed dealer and Jack Daniels, because it is a rambling stream of melodramatic ridiculousness. If Game of Thrones was rebooted and set in 1940s Boston and written by a writer who claims he’s the second coming of David Mamet, this is what one of the monologues would read like. This is some serious Valar Dohaeris shit and not in a good way:
“My dad was a drug dealer. He was a shit human. But he was a man. He taught me how to be a man. What I know of men, Alec is. A man is good at his job. Not his work, not his avocation, not his hobby. Not his career. His job. A man can look you up and down and figure some things out. Before you say a word, he makes you. From your suitcase, from your watch, from your posture. A man infers.
A man owns up. That’s why Mark McGwire is not a man. A man grasps his mistakes. He lays claim to who he is, and what he was, whether he likes them or not. Some mistakes, though, he lets pass if no one notices. Like dropping the steak in the dirt.
He does not rely on rationalizations or explanations. He doesn’t winnow, winnow, winnow until truths can be humbly categorized, or intellectualized, until behavior can be written off with an explanation. A man knows his tools and how to use them – just the ones he needs. Knows which saw is for what, how to find the stud. A man does not know everything. He doesn’t try. He likes what other men know. A man can tell you he was wrong. That he did wrong. That he planned to. He can tell you when he is lost. He can apologize, even if sometimes it’s just to put an end to the bickering. Alec, I’m sorry for my part of a dis-agreeable situation. – Shia.”
A man also knows how to wear out a fucking bong, apparently. What kind of pretentious foolery? Like dropping shit in my eyes. Even James Franco is like, “Hit the brakes, Shia!”
UPDATE: Shia LaDouche’s “a man” monologue was pretty much a copy + paste job of this article from Esquire. Of course!
And here’s Alec’s response. It’s best if you read this in Michael Caine’s voice, because I’m pretty sure this is one of Alfred’s speeches from Batman:
“I’ve been through this before. It’s been a while. And perhaps some of the particulars are different. But it comes down to the fact that what we all do now is critical. Perhaps especially fro you. When the change comes, how do we handle it, whether it be good or bad? What do we learn? I don’t have an unkind word to say about you. You have my word. – AB”
Shia responded with, “Same. Be well. Good luck on the play. You’ll be great.“
And Tom Sturridge responded with:
“Are you still here? I don’t really know what to write. I went in this afternoon and they were all there… producers, etc. I said my piece but they didn’t really listen. I don’t understand what has happened here. Maybe you have had a more enlightening conversation with someone by now. All I can say is that it truly was an honour to work with you even if it was only for a few days. I was stunned by the work you were doing, the performance you were giving. I think you lifted the play to a place high than maybe it even deserved to be. I hope this isn’t the last time we work together and I especially hope it isn’t the last time we see each other. Hope you’re ok brother – Tom”
I think what Tom really meant to write was, “Are you still here, because it sounds like the shit you’re smoking is making your brain liquefy and leak out of the pores on your head and I’m going to need your dealer’s number.”
And finally, Daniel Sullivan responded with this:
“I’m too old for disagreeable situations. You’re on hell of a great actor. Alec is who he is. You are who you are. You two are incompatible. I should have known it. This one will haunt me. You tried to warn me. You said you were a different breed. I didn’t get it. – Dan“
Actor and theater people are so beyond weird. Why aren’t all of us in the theater? You get to smoke a lot of drugs and write emails like you’re a character in a superhero movie. “You tried to warn me! The change is coming! I should’ve listened! Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?”
And since we’ve gone this far, let’s go all the way and let the foolery tip our chairs back until we fall on the floor. Here’s Shia’s audition video: