Finale Glen Ross

It has concluded, and may I say on a solid note.

Somehow, the energy didn't dip much for our final performance matinee. (This despite the fact that several of the cast members went out for something to eat and drink the night before. I opted not to join them.) I don't have an equation to determine this exactly, but to the best of my memory it is one of the highest energy closing shows I've ever been in.

I can't say I felt as on target as I did for the night before. (See previous entry.) I in fact skipped a line or two in a speech. Even setting that aside, the experience wasn't quite as exciting internally. Not quite as much of the golden ratio. Nonetheless, it was a closing show I could be proud of.

The audience, though small, was responsive. Again, not as much as the previous two audiences this second weekend, but as with last week, solid for a matinee. Both matinees being among the better performances in a two week run is uncommon for me.

This production was different in more than a few ways for me. I don't mean the particular challenge of a Mamet script, (though that was certainly part of it) but in regards to how I felt and behaved once the tech week and performances began.

To begin with, my level of ritual and tradition was lesser for this show than most of my others. My biggest rituals and "charms" if you will (which I've mentioned here many times) were still in place for this show. Yet despite the intense focus required to commit the script to memory, and to deliver it properly, I wasn't as somber in the final 15 minutes or so before curtain. Often I move off by myself, to meditate and such, but for this show I didn't. I remain relaxed, and reviewed my script in the actor's green room before hand, but didn't take a big pacing tour of the facility every night as I am known to do.

Perhaps it's just who I have become. Or perhaps the focus required for this play was so intense in some ways that part of my mind was allocating and prioritizing resources. Could the very intensity of the script and the work I put into same have caused my overall greater ease heading into the production? Was some part of my psyche saving energy for the show itself, by pulling it away from the need to be so ritualistic before hand? I think it's at least possible.

Maybe it comes from another angle. I have to admit that despite a few stumbles here and there, I felt more prepared each night for this play than I have for the last few years of theatre. That's not to say I've ever failed to be ready for a show, I haven't. But there is usually at least some gap between starting a show and total confidence in it-one which doesn't always get closed. This time, that gap was either much smaller, or not there, even before we opened. So much so, that there was a fairly large roadblock in my very first scene on the very first night...yet I never felt any panic about it. That might be a result of this higher level of preparation, might it not?

Why was I more prepared? In short, I think the script demands a different level of focus at different times than a lot of other plays. It's comparable to Shakespeare in effort to perform (even if not in content and poetry.) Not much room for zoning out, and I was conscious of this from the start. So I was even more tuned in than I usually am, and that is higher than most people I work with, if I may be so bold.

No need to analyze this into oblivion, though. Every experience in live theatre is different, for a variety of reasons. Glengarry Glen Ross at the Black Box Arts Center in August of 2017 happened to feel like a different experience for me. Not a totally poor one, not a disaster, just different.

And more tiring, no doubt about it. I didn't even go out to eat with the cast each time they did it, and I even skipped the cast party for the first time in my acting life. I felt emotionally spent, I had things to do at home, and I felt it was high time for me to exit the experience, the good and the bad, as soon as I could, after the final curtain, and so I did.

I have risen to the challenge of Shakespeare, and hope to continue to do so may times throughout my life. I can now say I have risen to the challenge of Mamet as well. To be frank, I think this experience will suffice. It's by far his best play, and his kind of rhythm can get more tiring for all the wrong reasons to me than other playwrights scripts. I'm glad this is on my resume, and I am satisfied with my work in it, but I don't feel a great desire to revisit David Mamet from now on.

Next theatre challenge? Unknown. I;m not cast in anything. I opted not to try out for the usual group of people that do Shakespeare in this area, despite many friends doing so, because of a venue change. Too long a commute for me each night, and a play that I never could get into. (Titus Andronicus.) I mentioned I'd fill a small hole in the cast if anyone backs out or something, but that I wouldn't be going trying out. It is what it is. Looks like they've got the people they need now. Here's to them.

Whatever is next, however, you can be sure I'll write about it here for you, whoever you mysterious, loyal blog readers of theatre are.

Malcolm in the...Finale.

Last night we closed Macbeth at the Black Box Arts Center.

I didn't update this blog on the two pick up rehearsals we had. It seemed sort of pointless and inside-baseball. So here I am to wrap up the experience.

To begin with, I'll admit I had my doubts about the level of interest a performance on Halloween night would inspire. Even our director called it "a gamble." But for the most part that gamble did pay off; we were at about 3/4 house for the show, with a good audience. (Many of whom were dressed in costumes to partake on the offered discount.

Overall, I'd call it our second best night, actually. Our first Saturday, for a full house was no doubt our best, but some moments from last night rivaled it. Plus I threw in some extra flare in places, to send things out with a bang. (Such as using the fake blood for the first time, at he very end, after my character has been in a battle. Weird stuff.) Check out this shot in the greenroom right after curtain call.

Good stuff.

Only major problem was one of my speeches was skipped in the big scene of 4.3. My scene partner jumped ahead. I'd like to say I was unfazed by it, but to tell the truth, for about a second I wasn't sure exactly how to proceed. I have no idea if this confusion projected into my performance for the audience or not. But after the quick moment of fog, I just jumped to the next line that would have followed the speech my partner gave, and the scene proceeded at normal from there. That was honestly the only major problem I recall ever happening in that scene during the seven performances.

I enjoyed that scene, but in a way I am relieved I don't ever have to do it again. Lot of thick dialogue there. Lot of speeches that, as I have said on this blog before, aren't as deep or motivated as other speeches in Shakespeare. Yet I was allowed to give the scene, and the character life and depth which is usually missing from both.


In college I was in a production of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Abridged. Because we rewrote many of the sketches in our own image, we started the process quite early. And then we took it on the road for four shows.

I didn't keep exact records, but I know that was the longest I was ever involved in one cast with one show. Macbeth was very close to the same length of time, give or take a week, probably. So I've been a part of this show possibly as long, maybe a tad longer than the longest ever for me. After a while, it's as much about the people as it is about the performance, especially since technically you spend a lot more time with a cast off stage than you ever do with them on stage.

Add to that the remodeling of the venue taking place during much of our process, and you have some unique circumstances.

To the very best of my knowledge, nobody fell in love with each other during this show, nobody ripped each other's throats out. No major clashes. (And thankfully our pregnant cast member did NOT give birth during the show!) Still, there is an intensity not just to a show such as this, but to being in such close quarters so often for so long. Now that there are no more audiences for this Macbeth, in a way the show no longer is about them; it's about us, those that were in it and made it happen. The feel of it. When something like this is over, you look back on an experience as much as (if not more than) the performance.

How will I do so? I will not lie and claim I was never annoyed. I was. Some things are just a pain in the ass. Some things, when you get amateurs together this long working this hard, getting this tired are bound to cause friction. However, there was not much of it, given the scope of this show. I've been in shows that lasted half as long and pissed me off four times as much.

All be way of saying, I am satisfied with my actual performance of Malcolm, despite his difficulties. But I am also satisfied with the overall experience of the entity that was this production. Taking the sum, from first read-through in June to last night's Halloween/cast party, it was a net plus. I will look forward to working with some of these folks again.

And I won't have to wait long...for I am in a production of a Christmas Carol at the same place, that with one exception stars people from Macbeth. We meet for our read through Wednesday.

But that is for then. For now, I close chapter of my theatre life out. We, the actors, like Malcolm and his troops behind the branches of Birnam Wood have thrown down our leafy screens, as Malcolm said, and shown like those we are-actors who did a good job in Shakespeare's Macbeth.

I guess I need to start calling it the Scottish Play again...

"The End Of It"

The title of this entry comes not from the play, but from the last section of the original novel, A Christmas Carol. But I used it for the final entry for this play two years ago, and I am doing so again.

First and foremost, I need to say that it is quite an infrequent experience for me to have my final performance be either the best, or in front of the biggest crowd. Today's matinee, however was both. Five seats short of a full house, and a very response, cheerful crowd at that. They laughed at a few things that the other crowds did not find so amusing.

As well as things that all of the other crowds found amusing. Such as my often mentioned "Happy New Year!" bit. It was always well received, and tonight was it's best reception. And though I didn't reach 100% internalization, (another hot topic here on the blog the last two weeks) I do feel my performances in this final day were of high quality, and full of energy. And the same can be said for basically everyone else in the show.

It was especially true for the break-up scene. It went better than last night, as Belle and I managed to more successfully recreate the graceful hand motion at the end of the waltz that we first did on Friday, but didn't quite achieve the following night. It may have been our best presentation of that scene. If not, it was certainly the second best. I am happy with my move in later rehearsals to present Scrooge's frustration, as opposed to presenting anger or total coldness. I shall miss performing that scene just as much as I shall miss Fred's first scene, wherein he greets Uncle Scrooge.

I had fun with Old Joe, and will miss him a bit as well. I won't miss being Peter Cratchit in either scene, frankly, despite the drama in the second. My brief moments as Christmas Future were always fun, though not my biggest challenge ever. I won't particularly miss any of the scenes in Dickens' attic, even though they are sort of the raison detre of this particular version. I always found myself chomping at the bit to get on with the actual story. (And according to my mother, who was in today's audience, some people in the house agreed with this notion, being confused by the attic moments, and unsure of what was happening.)

And then there is the Fred party scene in the Christmas Present section. The one scene that always made me a bit nervous beforehand, despite it usually being just fine. A scene I did not hate, but probably won't miss too much. And it was just fine today, and the audience was very appreciative of it. But it was not without it's problems.

To begin with, a moment wherein I was supposed to walk slowly off of a 5 step turret we built for the play did not exactly go off as planned. It is round in shape, and as I turned to deliver a line, something happened. I lost my balance for a moment, or caught my show on something, and felt myself falling forward a bit toward the ground, and away from the steps. So in the only thing I could think of to correct it error, as well as to prevent possible injury, I simply leaped off of the turret and landed in the middle of the stage while delivering said line. A bit much, but I don't think the audience noticed, and in fact seemed to be laughing rather heartily at that moment. But whether at my mini-stunt, or at something else going on on stage, I can't say. I can say the jump was a bit higher than I initially thought it would be. But better by far than falling off the thing.

The second snafu for that scene will take some explaining, but was so amusing to me I'd like to take the time to do so.

Fred blindfolds his friend Topper during the scene for a game of "Blindman's Buff". There is a gag here, wherein I look for a handkerchief, and the supposedly unseen Ghost of Christmas Present throws it, and I catch it. It always got a chuckle or two. However, at the top of the act, one of my fellow actors came off stage, and delivered a message to me on behalf of the actor who was playing Christmas Present; He had forgotten to grab the handkerchief.

That actor didn't come off stage for close to half an hour straight. He had no way to get it, and I was about to go on as Peter Cratchit. I pondered ways to cover the problem while performing Peter. (A role which had few lines.) During my brief exit, I discussed it with a fellow actress who suggested something I had already considered...taking off my ascot during the scene and using that. (Ironically, this is exactly what happened two years ago, when another actor was playing Fred, and the blindfold was somehow misplaced.) The problem was, I wasn't sure I'd have time to put it back on for my remaining scenes. I never could get it on without several tries.

Bob Cratchit enters the scene now. Played by the same actor who will later play Topper. During a section we all hated, wherein the Cracthit family had to mime its way through what seemed like a 10 minute speech by the Ghost of Christmas Present, I leaned over toward "Bob" and explained the problem to him. "Bob" then explained to me that he had retrieved the blindfold from backstage and sneaked it on with him. He mentioned it was laying behind us. I couldn't look without being conspicuous, but sure enough when I exited the Cratchit scene, to prepare for the Fred scene, I saw the wayward prop, and pocketed it quietly. It was then available to me during the party scene. And though a joke was lost, the audience was none the wiser of this. (At least until some of them read this entry!) It was a nearly perfect fix involving nearly half the cast, and not a bead of sweat was shed because of it. That is what focus and team work will bring you during a show!

None of that would have been possible if this production wasn't one of the most prepared, well rehearsed, and overall smooth flowing shows I have been in for a while. I have discussed the reasons why this may have been so for in previous entries. I won't go into them again, but suffice to say today was a prime example of the importance of being so.

As well as a prime example of why two weekend simply are not enough in most community theatre shows. Loyal blog readers will know already I have long advocated for a three weekend schedule for at least some community shows, given how almost all of them hit their true stride during the second weekend, right before they close. (If the stride is ever hit at all...) If once in a while that sense of finally hitting that rhythm could carry into one more weekend, I think a show could have more life than most community players would imagine.

A subject worthy of further consideration and discussion, but not here. Here is the time I look back on yet another show that has concluded. A show that I didn't even think I would be in, given I did not audition for it. But one I am glad I agreed to appear in. It was not revolutionary, nor life changing. nor was it perfect. But as I was telling one of the other actors during strike today, I feel it was one of those shows where we basically achieved anything we could have expected to achieve. I don't think we left anything on the stage, as it were. I think we did everything we set out to do, despite the inevitable obstacles. And hopefully we opened up the holiday season on a positive note for at least some of the people who came to see us these last two weekends. Perhaps even converted a real Scrooge or two into a happier frame of mind? One never knows.

So though once again almost none of my friends came to see me, (a sadly regular occurrence) I count this production of A Christmas Carol as a positive one. I give us a B+ or A- for the entire run. Quite the improvement over my previous show.

And an improvement over the last time we performed this show, two years ago, in some ways. Even the strike was smooth and without incident.

Now my focus turns both towards the holidays themselves, and toward my next theatre project; being an assistant-director for Full Circle's next production. I will decide in the coming days whether or not to chronicle that here on the blog, but until then, I bring my blogging about the Full Circle Theater Company's 2010 production of A Christmas Carol to a close. With my thanks to cast and crew of same.

And no, I will not end this entry with the most obvious Tiny Tim reference of all time.

Crevulation

In one of the skits I am in for "A Thurber Carnival" (The Secret Life of Walter Mitty), I play a man who daydreams a lot. These daydreams are played out on stage. As is often the case in our daydreams, Walter Mitty tends to fill in the blanks left by his lack of knowledge with something made up. So the daydream doesn't become a history lesson or something. In more than one of the daydreams in this skit, a character refers to a piece of machinery as beginning to "crevulate".

It's not a word. It doesn't mean anything in real life. But within the dream sequences it's a verb this guy's mind has created as a stand in for any non-specific mechanical failure for which his dream-self will offer the solution.

I think it's fair to say that parts of tonight's rehearsal were crevulating.

Actually the only section that I feel earned this title was, (I am sure readers will not be surprised by this) the dance scene. I found it even more exhausting and exasperating than I did last night. And one of the many, many reasons I felt such was that I kept missing a cue to enter, and being called out for it. Because we have no full music yet, (and because without much more practice I am not really good at counting 24 measures in my head while trying to perform), the choreographer had given me a visual cue off of which to time my entrance.

After about 5 tries, she finally told me that she had removed the cue I had been using from the dance, and I wouldn't be able to use it anymore. "I just hadn't told you yet," she confessed, much to my disappointment an irritation.

Add to that an insistence that she is going to add even more to this confusing dance ("It will be so easy, even people who can't dance will be able to slip it right in!"), as well as clear proof that none of us have even mastered the first several versions of this dance yet, and you can see why I have begun to lose patience with the entire scene. The entire five minute scene which altogether has accounted for about half of all our total rehearsal time.

So, I won't even bother to mention much about the scene, really. I feel the choreographer cares little for how the actors are struggling with the constantly changing piece. I would prefer we practice the same dance two nights in a row, but we have not done so, given the changes. And with two week left, I fear we will not be able to do so in time. I admit to being somewhat concerned about this section now. And from my view, the choreographer has not indicated that she is at all concerned about how the comfort level of the actors.

Therefore I will move on to the acting portions of tonight's practice.

I very much appreciated the director's desire to make use of our rehearsal time early on. Due to several reasons we once again had a few people missing at the start of the evening, but the entire cast for "Mr. Preble Get Tries to Get Rid of His Wife" was present, while the choreographer was not.(Yet.) So amidst much background noise and extra work being done on stage, we ran that piece. It was time spent well, but the ironic part of it all is that "Preble" is probably the single smoothest and most developed of my scenes right now. We probably didn't need the extra work, but it was satisfying to know that the director thought our time was important enough to run it while we waited.

Once, that, and the lumbering dance hour were completed, we ran through each skit of Act One, in order, for the very first time. Not at the speed in which we will hopefully run it come opening night, but it was the first chance we had to do everything in the act in one evening, despite note having a full cast.

Act One is also where I have the easier stuff to do out of all my skits. My bigger challenges are in Act Two.

At the end of the rehearsal the director reminded us of how little time there is left to rehearse, (only eight or nine separate rehearsals on tap, though she may have to add more, she cautioned.) She explained how much work we still needed to do to get to where we belonged. She declared scripts on stage to be officially forbidden henceforth, and encouraged everybody too look carefully over their lines this weekend. This was gratifying to me, because it showed that the director and the cast are on the same page. (Which is far from a guarantee in any given show.) We all know we have some major obstacles to climb in the next two weeks, even aside from the dance.But we all want to climb them. And if we all make the best use of our time, we can still do so.

Though to hammer the point home further, the director told us to consider every rehearsal "sacred" from now on, and to attend each of them unless there is absolutely know way around missing them. I like that term: sacred. I always try to treat my rehearsals as such. I'm not perfect and certain things can dull my motivation, but hearing that tonight convinced me that my efforts in the non-dancing parts of this show will not be wasted.

Heaven Can Wait No Longer

Metaphorically, that is. Yesterday afternoon, the show closed in Hagerstown.

Historically, my blog entry about the final show is less about the particulars of the show, and more about the fact that it is over. More of a look back. This one will be no exception, though I will say I felt almost as good about my performance as I did on Saturday. About 90% to that level, I would say. So I got to close on the second best performance I gave.

I found the worry bead, but stuck with the washer for the performance though.

This production, as I have said, seemed quite fast all things considered, though once we got to performing it seems a little slower in some ways. When I think that opening night was a mere ten days ago it's a little hard to fathom. It got fast at the end though for a different reason. There was no strike. I had been preparing to help strike the set and clean the entire theater after the curtain come down, but much to my surprise I was told that other than picking up out personal property, the cast had not striking responsibilities. This is the only company that I have been a part of that does business like that. It actually felt weird to leave the building the last time with the set still in tact. (It will be taken down later in the week.)

The cast party was also a short and sweet affair. I have been to some cast parties that lasted hours. This one was just under 90 minutes. But fun. We gave fake awards to each other, mocked each other, and congratulated each other. We even played "Heaven Can Wait" trivia, which was fun, though I only got one right. No matter. It was the show that was the thing.

Most shows improve a bit the second weekend when compared to the first, but I think Heaven Can Wait was one of the most obvious examples of this trend. The four shows on the second weekend were worlds above the three shows of opening weekend.

Which is one reason why, in the end, I have opted not to address the sensitive issues I mentioned a few days ago here on the blog. I realize that I said I would after the show was over, but by and large the issues, both from a personal and a professional standpoint were corrected. I of course would have preferred that they never happened at all, and I maintain the did not have to. But I cannot in good conscience mention the issues when so much energy was put into correcting them, eventually. So I will just leave it at this: I am relieved and gratified to know we got passed them, even if we did so too late for my tastes. That business is well concluded.

As for other things, this final show was strange for a few reasons. To begin with, as I have said a million times before here, my last exit from the show is (was...) a good 20 minutes before the final curtain. My final line was just over a half an hour before same. So I had more time to gear down, and come in for a landing with the realization that it was all over. I spend most of that time picking up my trash from the green room, getting a head start on what I thought would be strike.

Sometimes when the end of a show comes, you feel that you have done exactly what you set out to do, and that makes it easier to accept its ending. I put Heaven Can Wait in that category. I came off stage the last time knowing that I had put everything into "Tony" that I possibly could have done. I was satisfied with the overall improvement that was obvious in the entire cast in a short amount of time. And I enjoyed most of the crowds that we had. I felt it was a good place to conclude. I agree that it would have been nice to have a third weekend, because we were all just starting to hit a stride with things as it closed. But I do not regret what happened.

More importantly perhaps even than the show, was the fact that I not only introduced myself to a whole new company, (which I plan to be involved in plenty of times again in the future), but I made new friends. That doesn't always happen in a show, especially with someone as difficult to get to know and understand as I tend to be at first approach. I feel good about having a few more theatre people in my life now.

Plus, there is plenty of time to get to know some of these people more. In the past I tried to say a million things in my "final" cast email, (which I sent last night), but now I realize, in the age of Facebook, we can all take our time and get to know each other gradually. Not just by being in shows again together, (which I am sure will happen in the future), but outside of theatre as well. I've never been part of a new company in the Facebook era before...so hopefully it will help me keep in touch with some of these great actors and people now that the show is over.

So, to those involved in the show that may be reading this, once again, thank you. I will see you soon. On or off stage. I'm glad I auditioned.