Letters to Holly

Friday, January 5

Day Sixteen: Let's Just Get It Right

We're back in the lobby tonight as stage construction continues. I haven't looked at my script at all since Wednesday, and I'm feeling wholly confident about my lines. And that usually means trouble. A small flutter of nervousness is required for stage work, else you get complacent and over-confident and your lines scamper off into oblivion. My worst stage work has resulted from a lack of anxiety. Not gut-crushing anxiety (although I used to take Immodium before every performance back in South Carolina), but just enough to make your ears stand up. I run my lines once after work and again stumble over the "poisoning of the system" line. I repeat it five times to get it right.

At the theatre, the director tells Big Daddy and me that he has trick cigars for us to use. I'm already thinking for dickish ways for Gooper to light it, maybe lighting a match on the doorframe. We all sit on the improvised furniture to take notes from last night. Act III is so new to folks that we don't have many notes for it, but there are detailed enunciation notes for Acts I and II. I am again reminded to say all my Act I lines offstage left. I glance through the script as notes are given, and I discover that my memory is so active that I'm memorizing random lines as I read. So I stop. I don't need confusing bits of dialogue orbiting my lines. The director suggests we start "imaging" our lines, meaning we're to visualize what our character wants in each bit of dialogue. I think I'm OK on this. I know what kind of guy Gooper is and how he might behave, but I won't cement his reactions to others until we're closer to performance. I believe in consistency onstage; I don't want to throw off the other actors with inc front of an audience. They;ll do enough to distract us on their own.

As we run Act II, there are still planty of problems with lines. Some of us grab scripts midway. The assistant stage manager is offering lines when prompted and sometimes when she's not. In one moment, Gooper starts his sales pitch and corrects himself to find the right angle. I do this and sell the correction with a hard stop, a chuckle, and the next words. Victoria thinks this is real, that I'm really confused, and she says "no, you're OK." I'm now really confused. I knew that was right, but did it not come out right? I stare blankly at her, and she again assures me I had it right. Then I realize what happened, but I don't want to point it out. She bought my gesture as real, but there's no need to delineate that. Let her think I slipped up. Let's keep the scene moving. But now I'm lost. I can't remember where to pick up from. Or rather, I know where I am, but I can't find the words to start again. I take a second, find the place mentally, and start just as Maggie, trying to spark my memory, starts her line before mine. We're talking all over each other. We both realize it, crack up, apologize, and pause. She says her line, and I get back into the sales pitch. I have prop paperwork to show Big mama tonight, and it helps the acting. I'm already using it in gestures. It feels natural.

Unfortunately, I do miss a line tonight as Doc Baugh has trouble with his. Now, I'm starting to worry about him and the Reverend. They have the fewest lines of any adults in the play, and they are among the oldest. I've had my moments onstage with older men who have line trouble. They've blanked. Horribly. And I'm beginning to wonder abut these two. Nice guys. Chatty. Happy. But if I can sit myself down and get Gooper's lines, they can get theirs. They have maybe thirty lines between them the whole play. When Doc has his trouble in this scene, it throws me off. So I'm going to have to prepare for this kind of moment in front of an audience. I'll need emergency cue lines in my head for them and may have to adjust my lines to pick up where they dropped off.

After running Act III, the stage manager hands out scraps of paper noting where we deviated from the script. I don't have many citations, and I can correct myself over the weekend. The rest of us are dismissed as Maggie, Brick, and Big Daddy work on scenes from the first two acts. It's an early night. We pick up again Sunday night, my first Sunday night rehearsal of the play.

Previous entries:
Day One: Reading It Through
Day Two: Act Two
Day Three: Reading Act Two
Day Four: Talking It Through
Day Five: Blocking Act Two
Day Six: Act Two Redux
Day Seven: Reading Act Three
Day Eight: The Da Gooper Code
Day Nine: The Laying On of Hands
Day Ten: Pictures and Pages
Day Eleven: Onstage
Day Twelve: Memory
Day Thirteen: The Quickie
Day Fourteen: The Lines
Day Fifteen: Act III Anxiety

+ + +

The NFL playoffs start tomorrow, so let's take a look back at the picks Your Sis and I made:

The NFL
Her Teams
New England (12-4), NY Jets (10-6), Oakland (2-14)
Philly (10-6), Detroit (3-13)

Oakland's coach quit after one season, Detroit's offensive coordinator (a former head coach in St. Louis) is rumored to be a frontrunner for the now-vacant Miami Atlanta and Miami jobs. New England and the Jets play each other this weekend. Philly plays the New York Giants this weekend. The playoffs are on, and if you lose, you go home.
Number of her teams that could win the Super Bowl: 3

My Teams
Miami (6-10), Pittsburgh (8-8)
Philly (10-6), Carolina (8-8)

The coaches of both Miami and Pittsburgh left this week, and Carolina stumbled to a .500 record to end the season.
Number of her teams that could win the Super Bowl: 1 (and it's one that she picked also)

Picture of the Day
The 300 posters are out in Great Britain. This is the best one.




Thursday, January 4

Day Fifteen: Act III Anxiety

I spent more than an hour between work and rehearsal going over my Act III lines to the point that my head was aching and I was mixing up their order. I had to stop. I worried that I had jumbled myself up beyond repair for the night with only a half hour before I was to show up at the theatre.

I arrive to find some construction progress. This is the set with a tad more decor. We have the shell of a stereo and a newer coffee table and a few props including those for the bar.

I was growing more and more impatient and anxious to get Act III rolling and see how well I knew the lines. The reverend and doctor were going over their scripts in the wings as we readied our entrances. And then the announcement came that we were to start from the top, meaning the beginning of the play. Act III would not start for another 2 hours.

I had the Act I and II lines cold, but discovered that the director had decided to Gooper would say all his Act I lines from stage left, not stage right as I had delivered them before. Big Mama heard my first line to her and asked where I would be. When I heard the director tell her, I jogged to the other side for the rest of the act's lines. I'm not standing in place the whole time. I recognize when my lines are coming due and can wander backstage to view the set pieces or chat with actors or sit and sketch. But I don't look at the script. Not at this stage of the play. I would only do that if I badly fumbled a line or a cue. I spy a box of old telephones, a fleet of hanging chandeliers, a 1965 Americana annual (with articles about the proposed Gemini space flights), and the gobos used to create shapes on the spotlights.

When Act III does roll around, it goes badly for the cast. They simply haven't studied the material to the degree I have, and again, it's because they have more lines to cover throughout the play. But also, Act III is the busiest for the actors. Everyone is onstage, milling around and turning to address each other. So when I have my minor slips, I don't feel so bad. I'm the only one pf the major characters not calling for a line. At one point, I don't shout a line during an argument. It's not necessary, but it is there, and I catch eye contact with the director to let him know I realize the error. I also had trouble with the line "It's the poisoning of the whole system due to the failure of the body to eliminate it's poisons." I'm not worried about acting tonight, just getting the right lines out loud.

When we're through, the director says he'll give notes to us before Thursday's rehearsal to draw tonight's work to a close. It's 10 p.m., and the play is running right at 2 hours and 40 minutes. With one planned intermission, we have to trim that down.

Previous entries:
Day One: Reading It Through
Day Two: Act Two
Day Three: Reading Act Two
Day Four: Talking It Through
Day Five: Blocking Act Two
Day Six: Act Two Redux
Day Seven: Reading Act Three
Day Eight: The Da Gooper Code
Day Nine: The Laying On of Hands
Day Ten: Pictures and Pages
Day Eleven: Onstage
Day Twelve: Memory
Day Thirteen: The Quickie
Day Fourteen: The Lines

Picture of the Day
The set so far. That's Doc Baugh on the left, looking at his script.


In the News
The new Congress is sworn in today with a "100 hours" plan for pushing new legislation. This is a bold move, but foolhardy. They Dems haven't enjoyed this kind of power in 12 years, and they're rushing to get all their platform items addressed before the inevitable scandal derails their momentum. It's been two months since the election, and while they may still be flush with excitement and ceremony, we the people have considered them the majority since the results were announced. The party loyalists may have great expectations about progress and reform, but that's a minority within one party. Inevitably we will hear soon about how the New Boss is bullying the Old Boss by skirting house tradition and courtesy, and that's just the schoolyard bickering that creates constituent apathy. Also, Bush seems intent on doing what he planned all along in Iraq, regardless of a perceived Democrat mandate.

The crucial matter for the Dems is to scotch the long-held stereotype of their party as free spenders and pro-bureaucracy. The GOP has inflated the budget deficit to finance a larger government. The Dems have to trim spending to finance their core programs without raising taxes. They do that, and they take away the accusatory GOP cliches. The GOP has to decide which philosophy segment to pursue: Log Cabin, neo-con, moderate, etc. and gel around that in preparation for the 2008 election. But it's much more likely the party will move centrist to separate itself from the administration.

Wednesday, January 3

Day Fourteen: The Lines

First of all, I had to shave for Gooper, and now my face is freezing cold. I feel every stir of the air upon my chin.

Because the stage crew is assembling the set, we're rehearsing in the lobby tonight. We move around some benches and tables to make a small recreation of the stage. Maggie isn't feeling well. We get the new schedules, and it starts to dawn on everyone that we open in about two weeks. This means we'll rehearse or perform 13 days out of a 15-day stretch starting Sunday, Jan. 7 and ending on the 21st. The 14th will be a tech rehearsal so the lights and sounds can be set. That's always a long day for everyone.

Tonight we try Acts I and II without scripts. The stage managers will prompt us if we need it. I have this set of lines down cold. Gooper has maybe 20 lines total for these acts. The principals however have a shitload. Maggie and Big Daddy ARE Acts I and II, respectively, and the very least I can do in this production is to have my lines down so the director and managers only have to worry about the main characters. They do call for lines a lot tonight, including an unfortunate moment in Act II when Big Daddy is flummoxed by real, mysterious people outside the lobby using their outdoor voices. It knocks him of the rails for a while. There are many calls of "line" from the actors as they try to move forward.

I am starving as my body adjusts from two weeks of holiday eating. I ration myself a candy cane throughout the night as I'm offstage for most of the play here. I sketch an awful lot. There's no way of knowing how well the play is shaping tonight, nor well we know Wednesday, as this is the first time we're really forgoing the scripts. I already feel unshackled and can give Gooper some small moments of eye contact and significant posturing.

The kids, who have the fewest lines, aren't very sure of what they're doing, and I wonder how much time they are practicing with their parents. The director treats them like any other member of the cast, which I endorse. When they screw up (as we all will) we stop to get their material right before they can commit it wrongly to memory. But I wonder how much the nightly notes will adhere to their brains. I also wonder how much all this business around the rehearsals distracts them.

Running lines at home and among the cast are distinct; even I (a seasoned pro in comparison) get nervous as I prepare for my cues. I know what they are, and I know what I'm to say, but the actor before me may have memorized the line differently, and I have to be ready for that. The process for the play began with a rough notion of Gooper throughout the play which helped me memorize lines, leading to a broadened idea of how to perform Gooper. What I'm doing know is vastly different that how I started, and this new incarnation will sharpen greatly in these next few weeks.

Act Three is Wednesday night, and I spent the weekend cementing the lines of memory. I've run in them literally in my sleep, and correctly, I might add. And I find myself reciting them mentally before I doze off at night and right after I wake up. It's memory boot camp fueled by panic that I won't be prepared. Frankly, there's ego involved. I want to be the first of the six major character actors to have my stuff ready. And as the one with the least lines, I should. As nice a role as this is on its own, it's also an investment role for future shows. I want to show them I'm a good, reliable actor to have around.

Previous entries:
Day One: Reading It Through
Day Two: Act Two
Day Three: Reading Act Two
Day Four: Talking It Through
Day Five: Blocking Act Two
Day Six: Act Two Redux
Day Seven: Reading Act Three
Day Eight: The Da Gooper Code
Day Nine: The Laying On of Hands
Day Ten: Pictures and Pages
Day Eleven: Onstage
Day Twelve: Memory
Day Thirteen: The Quickie

Picture of the Day
This is the stage-left side of the set. The bed headboard will fill the large, open space.

Tuesday, January 2

Day Thirteen: The Quickie

It's been a week since my last rehearsal, and this week is shortened because of Christmas. Tuesday was for Act One (I'm offstage). Wednesday was for Act Two (I'm onstage for about ten minutes). Thursday was for Act Three. But we knew that Big Mama would not be there as she was driving back from Texas. I've spent this holiday break going over my lines, and Act Three is a mess for Gooper. His lines are arbitrary and repetitive. It's been a struggle, and Thursday provides my last runthrough before we move offbook next week.

I luckily survived two hours of ice skating at the civic center and will not have to act with a real broken leg to match Brick's fake one.

Big Mama is indeed not there. But neither are the kids. And neither is Mae. She, I learn, has a death in the family. But she didn't leave a message about her absence. And the kids are definitely scheduled to arrive. We sit for a while, and Les the director says we'll salvage the night by doing a simple run through Act Three. No movement and without scripts if we can manage. I can do some of Act Three off-book, but I was planning on the stage movement to cement lines in my head. Big Daddy asks for lines a few times as does Maggie. But Brick, I think, has his lines down. Doc Baugh has some trouble but not much, and Reverend Tooker is reading for himself and Big Mama. The Director reads for Mae.

We finish and chat for a bit. Mostly we share theatre horror stories. Like how, for Student Prince, the Spartanburg Repertory Company decided to use a real dead chicken instead of a plastic one for a minuscule punchline. My character (one of two I had for the show because Spartanburg men refuse to work musicals) carries in the chicken to prove the Prince's valet could hunt. It doesn't serve the plot at all, but they decide to worry about this detail. So they buy a frozen chicken and hand it to me. And the show ran three weekends. With one thawing chicken in a cooler with no ice. And I got to carry it. Big Daddy mentions that he had to wear a foam fat suit in Atlanta during an outdoor summer theatre show. And they only washed it once. The director says that he was cast as the cook for Mother Courage and Her Daughters, and he was required to pluck a real chicken onstage.

The production meetings held before rehearsals allows the crew to hammer out details, and discussions apparently moved back to the language. The director says we might cut "fucking" out and tells the true story he heard from the new managing director:

A box-office employee answers the phone to hear an old lady.

Her: Does your current play have bad language?
Him: Yes, it does.
Her: Is the f-word used?
Him: Yes, it is.
Her: How many times?
Him: I don't know.
Her: (pause) Seven times is acceptable.

We then talk about theatre prudes, like the old people who walked out of one of my Barefoot in the Park shows because the young wife walks around in her slip for ten minutes. This was also the young, local all-girls-college actress I got to kiss every night for two months. God bless theatre. Big Daddy says he advised a local Baptist group to see Ah, Wilderness! at his theatre only to see them walk out, hold a prayer meeting on the theatre steps and demand their money back. All over one line: "They're making a preacher out of you." Victoria the Assistant Stage Manager says a group of home-schoolers left a recent Once Upon A Mattress show when it became obvious a pregnant character wasn't married.

The director then says we're to go home and come back Tuesday to run through Acts I and II. We're to be off-book. I call Heidi and meet up with her family on the corner and tell them they didn't miss anything, just a bunch of actors sitting around. I've got six days to nail down my Act Three lines, and I can do it. I just have to sit down and do so.

Previous entries:
Day One: Reading It Through
Day Two: Act Two
Day Three: Reading Act Two
Day Four: Talking It Through
Day Five: Blocking Act Two
Day Six: Act Two Redux
Day Seven: Reading Act Three
Day Eight: The Da Gooper Code
Day Nine: The Laying On of Hands
Day Ten: Pictures and Pages
Day Eleven: Onstage
Day Twelve: Memory

Moving Picture of the Day

While we were away for the holidays, the new Fantastic Four sequel teaser was released. All us geeks are aflutter over the inclusion of Silver Surfer, for not is he a cool '60s bit of design, but he almost guarantees the inclusion of Galactus, the World Eater.


Galactus remains Marvel's signature cosmic entity after his introduction more than 40 years ago. But will we see the classic Space Pope Kirby design or a new modern version?