Act Well Thy Part

I can see why you might think that this blog's theme is love and theatre. It's just something that is incredibly relevant in my life and a lot of self-realizations come from it. I suppose as soon as show season is over, I'll go back to the other part in my life.

UNTIL THEN I WILL CONTINUE.

The latest theatrical realization is actually pretty darn important and it's a shock that I haven't come to it when I started theatre because it's sort of important when you start theatre that you know why you're doing theatre.

At the beginning, I was always interested in theatre. I was taken to shows as a child and had the soundtracks for a dozen classic shows. Even though this was the world I was born into, I'm really not sure what drove me to pursue the theatrical life. It was just a joy for me to perform and the more comfortable I was on stage, the more I was able to do. I fell completely in passion with every aspect of theatre and even though she's a struggling mistress, she does me well. We just have a chemistry together. But there was never a personal or heartfelt reason or purpose.

I've asked many of my actor friends why they continue in theatre. Most of them say it's simply for pleasure or fascination. But there was one actor I met that impressed me with his reasons. He told me that he doesn't perform for himself.

'Well, obviously, " I said. "You don't dance in front of a mirror, that's not theatre."

"No, I mean, I don't perform for selfish reasons. I perform to give my gifts to other people. It's for them."

Up to that point, I had believed that theatre was MY moment. I shined, I danced, I sang, it was the time that I could ask the audience to look at me and they would. For a long time, that was my internal monologue every time I danced. I would think "LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME" until the energy and ferocity shone out of my eyes and gave me, what I believed to be "star quality." I'm ashamed to admit it, but that really was why I did theatre. I wanted to be loved and admired and looked at. So the idea that performing was a selfless act was a very new idea to me.

But I liked it. I saw the difference between those actors that wanted the focus to be on them and the actors that just wanted to make someone laugh or smile. It inspired me into the actor and writer that I am today. I desired a greater purpose for myself, a bigger reason to be on stage than to just be looked at. For once, being a pretty thing no longer satisfied me.

This principle has been working well for me for a couple years, but it still hadn't hit that "home run" in my pathos. I hoped that my work touched those I came into contact with, but nothing had been affirmed. Until several days ago.

One of the shows I'm working on right now is a children's theatre piece called "Clever Jack and the Pirates." It's a simple, sweet show, meant for nothing more than to make children laugh. For those of you that don't know, an audience full of children is probably one of the most gratifying feelings in this world. They let you know EXACTLY what they think of you and if you're doing what you're supposed to do, they'll fill the theatre with their laughter. Well, as I'm sure you could guess from my build-up, my purpose came from a child after one of these shows. Friday's show to be exact.

After the show, the cast members have the chance to wander into the audience, interacting with the kids, answering questions, having fun, giving high fives, all manner of fun. One small boy in particular came up to me and another one of my fellow cast members. He told us (and I quote) "you guys memorized your lines really well and you were magnificent." I could tell that he was a special needs kid, which automatically brought him closer in my heart. His teacher waved him on to go with the rest of the class as they were boarding the bus, but she stayed behind to tell us more. She thanked us for our work and then told us the story of that little boy.

Apparently, he had a little panic attack when he got into the theatre. He didn't want them to turn off the lights and was incredibly scared for the moment when we would. His teacher pinned him to his chair and promised him that it would get better. And from the moment the show started, he drew out of his panic attack shell. He smiled, laughed, we made him feel better and he wasn't scared anymore.

As a cast, as a production, we changed this little boy's perception of theatre but most importantly, we made him happy.

That.

That is why I'm in theatre. While I harbor a love for drama and intensity, while my favorite thing to do is kill off the most likable character (that's called pulling a Joss Whedon) if there's one thing I love, it's making people laugh.

Now, I've heard actors say some of the most beautiful prayers. From pleading with God for energy and focus to praying for protection for a specific cast member who had a scary stunt, actors really know how to ask an all-powerful entity for what they need. Not what they want, but what they know that they need. My best lines have been said backstage in the quiet moments when I've asked a kind and loving Heavenly Father to take away that pit in my stomach. But the best way to sum up how I feel collectively for my job as a performer and the roles and duties that go with it, is in the prayer of one of my cast mates. He bowed his head reverently, the entire cast in a circle.

"I guess what I'm asking for God... is to help us forget ourselves." he said.

I work with the most selfless people on this earth. They're constantly giving and giving of themselves with little return. They wake up early, stay up late, risk a lot, and we never know what the audience left with, what they thought. Sometimes they'll send us letters of offense (assuming that we care for their small-minded opinions). But most of the time, we judge what they thought of us based on their laughter throughout the night. There's only one reason why I continue to suffer through the pain, soreness, stress and occasional good times and laughter and it's of no benefit to myself. There's only one reason why my fellow actors put themselves through a lemonade diet so that they know what it's like to be hungry for character research and development. It doesn't do us any good, whatsoever.

Whether we act to teach or to entertain or to just see someone smile, the theatre was and never will be for the self-centred people of this world.

Story Time: I Almost Died Today; Again

I fell off a tall stage platform today. 

Short Story Longer: For the curtain call on my show, the actors come from backstage out the the front three platforms (we're in a black box theatre). From where I finished the show (because I do finish the show) I'm on the top platform on one end of the stage. (this would be so much easier if I had a picture to show you). There are about 4 steps down to the next platform. Getting down isn't so much the problem, but I have to get back up the stairs after I bow in pitch darkness. 

Now. The way the platform/stairs were built, there's about a square 1/2 foot to the side of just nothing. If you can't see the stairs and follow them, you can easily fall off as there are no guard rails/ 

DO you see where I'm going with this? 

So, I miss the step. My toes had found the platform but my heels hadn't. When I put my weight on my foot, I fell through the nothingness. Somehow, I managed to catch myself on the ledge as I was falling. Didn't break anything, but when I hit the floor, my knees gave out from adrenaline so I really was clinging to the edge of the stage by my fingertips. 

I fell during the blackout, so all people heard was a thud and my two co-actors yelling my name. The lights come back up and I'm hanging onto the ledge, practically swinging, yelling "I'M ALIVE! I'M ALIVE!" 

The director and stage manager ran over to me and were like "youokayyouokayyouokay" and I was like "yeah dudes, I'm fine. Fallen from a lot worse, you know? I'm good." And I felt really cool cuz I thought people cared about me. 

Turns out that they were just really freaking out about the potential accident form that they would have to fill out if I had twisted something. Thanks, guys. I feel cared for. 

The best part is... I barely remember it. Because I fell during a pitch blackout, I can't remember anything but the feeling of falling and even that is fading away by the minute. The worst part of it was that I have no scars or anything. Just some bruises, a scrape here and there, and some soreness in my legs. 

I DIDN'T EVEN RIP MY NYLONS. 

The Theatre Department Heathens

Brigham Young University-Idaho is a college full of orthodox Mormons in a small bubble known as Rexburg, Idaho. The theatre department of BYU-I is a collection of people from every location and we stand out from everyone else in the bubble. It is not our habitual late nights and stereotypical loud-mouths and energy that sets us apart. It's the way we treat the world around us. It's the way we feel about politics, art, literature, all the humanities. I'm not saying we're all crazy liberals-- most of us are Republicans! What I'm trying to say is that we, as a department, offend some of our patrons.

I don't want to be "ungrateful" for our unalienable right to freedom of speech, but I think that there are those who take it for granted. Or they use it far too much at the grievance or annoyance of others. I'm a self-proclaimed heartless she-demon, so I don't mind saying this... But I think that these people actually believe that we want to hear what they're saying. There are few people in this world that I will listen to, much less inquire after their opinion. For instance, I don't much care for the opinions of those who pay to come to shows and then send the theatre department Letters of Offense. We have a lot of enraging stories, here in the 'Burg... Many of which are infamous.

There's the one about a play that featured murder and rape. There was also a scene in which the protagonist drank coffee for breakfast. The letter of offense that we got for that was that this certain audience member was appalled that we would have coffee references in our show.

Not outrageous enough? Well once, we decided to do The Scottish Play. And because it's Macbeth (DEVIL BEGONE) everything went wrong. People were injured, sure. Believe you me, those injury stories are worthy to be saved for another blog post. But among everything else, audience reaction went... Well, wrong. For those of you new to literature, Macbeth (DEVIL BEGONE) is a play about murder and mayhem and ghosties and women that wish they were men so that they could have metaphorical cahones. Well, when you say it with THAT attitude, it's no wonder someone was offended by such devilry. Yes, somebody was offended by the murder. In a Shakespeare show.

Theatre is-- as all art should be-- a representation of life. Sometimes, plays and musicals are set in a different world, a different place. Sometimes it's too fantastic to be anything normal. But underneath those gaudy costumes and high kicks lies the fundamentals of human nature. Tragedies and dramas are even classified by the way they treat universal truths (no really, it's in the books.)

So then, If theatre represents life, why shouldn't some plays be hard to deal with? Now there's a difference between being intentionally raunchy and crude and simply displaying those harsh facts of life. I can spot the difference because, when you think about it, it's not that hard.

What makes me so sad is when people are so caught up in their piety that they can't take a representation of life on the stage.

I did Drowsy Chaperone a year ago and there's a wonderful "rousing anthem" that takes alcoholism and likens it to the stumbling that we do in order to get through life. When you listen, it's more than funny words put to bright and beautiful melodies. It's the truth: we stumble along on life's crazy journey.

Well some people can't handle that. Some people only see the alcoholic references and that's that. They walk away so appalled that a bunch of college kids are "praising" the act of drinking booze that they can't even see the inspirational message. Endurance, right? That's a thing we preach in our Christian religion. That's something in our manuals. Something in our scriptures...

So when I say that "the show I'm working on will get more letters of offense than Santa has Christmas wishlists," it's because I know people will be blinded by the fact that our production uses the words "lesbians" and "dammit" that they won't see why we've got them in there.

Our directors are pretty in tune to possible uproar from the audience because we've had this problem for a while. Sometimes, they'll even change a word. But the intentions are always there-- because they should be.

I've been writing this while sitting on the floor of our Black Box Theatre, where the play, "Bielzy and Godfried" will be performed in about a month. I'm currently watch the actor playing Bielzy (the devil character) talk to the director about how to portray a line that's significant to the play, significant to life and manages to break the fourth wall in a very intimate way. The line says "You might see things that might shock you, amuse you... And we want to know. Your response says a lot about you."

The director pulled the actor aside.

"This line might be more important than any other in the whole show and this is a collection of morality plays," says my director. "It's said right to them and, if you do it right, it'll make them think. You HAVE to make them think! Once, we were doing a Standish play. We got letters of offense because people were so furious that 'the Lord's University' would DARE do a play written by a homosexual. And they completely missed the purpose of the show. Make them think, Dave. Make. Them. Think!"

He pounded the stage, punctuating the plea of all of us that "dare" do an "offensive" show.

Are you people the same kind of people that believe the Venus di Milo is porn? Are you the same people that think Picasso's Battle of Guernica is too violent to belong in any museum? Are you the same people that complained about Modern Family's use of "profanity" in the episode Little Bo Bleep? Then you're probably the same people who shouldn't be reading my blog.