Letters to Holly

Friday, September 14

Fourth Audition Night

First Night
Second Night
Third Night

Tonight is ostensibly for the benefit of the actors in Fiddler, but they have a dress rehearsal tonight. So they can't be there. How does that work? Were they gonna show up to audition before the rehearsal? Oh and here's a tidbit from an actor in that show: The weekend rehearsal lasted 11 hours. Eleven. The older actors had trouble with their lines. I know, you're shocked.

I arrive at the warehouse at 7 and am greeted by the stage manager. Inside is Doc, and we talk about choice of clothes and work dress codes. We're killing time because no other applicant is there. It's the two folks working the sign-up table, the director, the stage manager, another theatre figure, and the two of us. We hover in the "lobby" outside the audition room before slipping inside to grab a few Xeroxed pages to study. The director and others are talking about who is cast in what part, and Doc whispers that we should leave the room so they can talk about us. I argue that we should eavesdrop to find learn where we stand. But leave we do and chat a bit.

Very quickly, the director calls for me, and I go back into the room. And then she says it: "I'd like for you to be Flint (the DA)," This is the part I wanted. I smile a bit and say "I'd be glad to." And there we have it. Lead role. The aggressive DA in the noir play. The director says Lynn will play "the stripper" as a result of her audition last night. She continues to talk aloud about who is cast in what role, and then realizes she hasn't informed Doc yet. "Oh, well I'd like you to be the defense attorney." Doc is pleased as punch (he's not playing a doctor again), and we exchange proud smiles. I offer my hand, we shake, and talk shit.

"You're going down, sir."
"So you get to be Gooper again, right?"
"Oh no, this time I'm win."

Lynn arrives a little bit later, and the director tells Lynn the good news. We three applicants congratulate each other. A new arrival is known to the director and Doc, and he quickly reads for the part of Whitfield, the rich father-in-law of the deceased. Doc and I read our parts against him, and as we finish, the director says, "well, I think we have our Whitfield." Would anyone else get a role if they walked off the street? I don't think so. The theatre folks seem to be plugging cast holes now, and they discuss who to get for very small roles. We also learn one character originally written as a black maid character will be re-written. They're removing the stereotypical "oh lawdy, I don't knows anythang, suh" stuff.

We're also told that the jury in the play will be chosen from audience volunteers and will indeed be allowed to decide guilt. We'll perform the very end of the play based on that. That's cool. Now, I have to make my case as best I can. Another element of reality I look forward to.

No one else arrives, and we kill time thumbing through the full script until the theatre folks decide to close shop. We'll meet on Tuesday to start rehearsals. We'll have seven weeks to mount a 90-page script. No problem.

So long as Doc doesn't forget his lines again.

I met Your Sis at a Mexican restaurant to join Kathy and Travis for Anna Claire's birthday party. Because I get there so later after the start time, I can only eat a piece of cake. No din-din for me. We watch her open presents before going home so I can, ironically, eat. I give her the story of the audition and some rather dramatic doings at the office today. Here's the gossip-free version: Today was a very good day all for me.

Picture of the Day

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