Letters to Holly

Friday, October 26

Countdown: Five Rehearsals

I forgo the suit jacket and focus instead on lines. The costume rack hasn't changed since our initial experiments, and the suit I tried on doesn't have any new pants for me to wear. I think the gray suit will be my costume by default. The gangster actor (with whom I share a scene in Act Three) asks if he can try a deliberate pause to antagonize my character. I'm fine with it, but I warn him to let the line reader know or the latter will think he's blanked on a line. Just after this, the director tells us all to look for pauses in our lines, to milk the drama. This will hopefully make us react better instead of jumping in with our lines.

On the first run, and there's no way to be humble about this, we bring the noise. I have my best Act Three yet, Right up until the closing argument where I get a bit tongue-tied and get trigger happy with my fingers. By and large, we're off book and sailing through. For some reason, Doc doesn't stand for his objections, and the judge likewise soft-sells his rulings (and can't remember his lines. Shock.). We don't have our dancer actress, and the director reads her part. Speaking of not being there, Act Three ends with all the witnesses standing up to recite a crucial piece of their testimony. This is a time-killer while the jury deliberates. But we have never had all the cast there to do this bit, and I worry about timing and memorization. We'll need to practice this a lot probably. I mean the royal "we;" the attorneys say nothing after their closing arguments.

The defendant tries on wigs during the break, but she may cut her hair for a 1930s style. I'm still sporting a beard, and I'll ask the director again if she wants it cut. The second run through does not go well for Doc, and he shuts down during his closing argument. The director asks him if he wants to sit, and he chooses to fight through it. Good for him. The dancer arrives later and tries out her costume (low of cut, high of heel). I have what I consider a solid second run. maybe the "stale" comment helped. Actually, no, it didn't. This is the big act for everybody, and we're just playing up the appropriate levels of emotion here. I'm really feeling the closing argument again, and along with it comes the determination to not lose this case.

The theatre has its annual awards banquet Friday night, and that pushes our usual rehearsal to Saturday. I'm not going because I'm not part of this gang, and will enjoy the rare bachelor night as the missus heads out of town. I'll run some lines as I bandy about the house, maybe strap the cats to a chair and cross-examine them.

Official play website

Rehearsals
Countdown: Six Rehearsals
Countdown: Seven Rehearsals
Clock is Ticking
My Big Speech
Punching a Cop Is Bad, Right?

Act Two Redux
Friday Through Sunday
Eggshells
Drama!
Getting Serious
Our First Friday
Act Three Lines
Dusting Off Act One
Line Trouble
End of Second Week
'Go and Do Likewise, Gents'
Script Work
J'Accuse
Cramming
Walking and Talking
Readthrough
Marking the Floor

Auditions

First Night
Second Night
Third Night
Fourth Night

Picture of the Day
He wants to rock and roll all night and fingerpaint all day.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

funny pic. funnier caption. that reminds me...the blue men who came up with their avant garde routine some 15 years ago have franchised it out, and have started a blue man preschool in brooklyn for their kids. lots of banging on things to make music and painting.

Anonymous said...

here's the link to that new yorker blurb:
http://www.newyorker.com/talk/2007/09/24/070924ta_talk_green

Gregory said...

I fucked it up. It's fingerpaint EVERY day! AGH!

They might stretch the school to teach fifth grade. Imagine those kids moving on to public middle schools.