Letters to Holly

Friday, November 21

Rehearsal Ten: What the Hell?

The evening started with the question of Saturday show scheduling -- matinees vs. evening. I was the only one present with a handy phone number to call someone who would make that decision, and I contacted the spring director. He said the president had made the same argument I did: evening shows will allow patrons to enjoy dinner and a show. So, evenings it is. They are. Whatever. I got off the phone and announced this to the cast as if I had anything to do with it. We still await to learn when we can get to the stage and rehearse; we're waiting for the lighting system to be installed.

I didn't even pick up my script on Wednesday, but I wrote down my lines earlier in the day, and this is becoming my favorite way to cement lines in my head. If I know them well enough to dictate them to myself, I'm solid. And I am during the rehearsal. Any anxious vibrations are gone. I'm almost arrogantly calm. The printed schedule said we're to be off-book tonight, but the director said we were to aim for next Monday. Most of us are trying to forgo the scripts, and it makes for halting work. The older gents have a difficult time. Our oldest guy often won't say his line even when the rehearsal is stopped to remind him it's his turn AND he's told repeatedly what the line is. I'm sure he'll be just fine when we have an audience. Just fucking fine. Oh, and our Scrooge unexpectedly departs at 8 p.m. No reason, no warning. Off he goes. Three different people read his role for the rest of the practice, and it doesn't help the other actors who are used to the the Scrooge actor gives. When Brick reads the lines, I give him kudos. "Good Scrooging ... way to Scrooge."

The director keeps the rehearsal moving as she's determined we won't stay after 9 again. I am dying to shave this brillo beard I've been assigned. I use the skeleton gloves for teh first time as I determine which way to move my hands. The gloves only have bones on the back of the hands, and I don't want the flat black palm side to show as I gesture. I'll spend 30 minutes of stage time making Mr. Magoo noises and hand dancing. And this stupid fun is what gets me through each practice.

Picture of the Day
OooooOOooooo. Ghost hands.

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