Set the Stage
I found another great part in "How I Paid for College" by Marc Acito. It's all about the revelry and joys of a well done performance. Want to read it? It takes place during a performance of Godspell (our narrator is a high school senior playing Jesus, and this is his experience right after the betrayal scene when Judas kisses Jesus. "Our lips part. The show must go on, and pretty fucking quickly if we want to avoid totally freaking out everyone. As directed, I step up to a podium and speak to the audience as if I were addressing a rally. But just as I begin, a tall figure in the fifth row stands up and says, "Excuse me, Jesus..."
I lean forward to search the blackness for the voice. The figure raises a pistol and fires a shot that echoes all over the auditorium.
The place goes nuts. People scream. I smash the blood pack under my shirt and collapse on the floor as the figure (Boonbrain) dashes out the nearest exit. A couple of audience members actually run after him like it's real. The stage goes to red and the electric guitars start to wail.
It's fucking brilliant.
There's no time for the audience to recover. Onstage it's chaos: fifty teenagers keen and scream, choristers dressed as cops, paramedics, and reporters dash on trying to restore order, but only complicating things. And in the middle of it all is me, lying in a pool of blood. This, this, this is what being an actor is about. To be able to elicit such a strong reaction for hundreds of people at once - that power is awesome and irresistible and humbling. If you want to think I'm needy because I love applause, go ahead. But I know that the reason I perform is for moments like these, moments when you connect with an audience and take them somewhere, whether its' scary of funny of sad, it doesn't matter. That's what makes it worthwhile.
The cast surrounds me as I gasp my final lines.
"Oh God, I'm dying..."
All around me disciples cry real tears, even Natie who, much to my surprise, heave huge coul-rattling sobs. But I can't help but feel so very, very happy as I indulge in the sheer sensual pleasure of pretending.
To die, to sleep; To sleep perchance to dream.
Natie gently closes my eyes for me. Some of the disciples can hardly sing, they're so choked up, but me, I feel nothing. No, nothing's not the right word. It's more like nothingness, and a sense of calm washes over me like warm water. As the disciples carry me to the back of the auditorium, I have no worries. There is no Al, no Dagmar, no Juilliard. I don't even have to carry my own weight. The disciples sing the finals notes of "Prepare Ye" fro the lobby, then gently lay me down on the cool linoleum floor. I don't want to move. Ever. Slowly I open my eyes like I'm awakening from a dream and listen for the applause.
Silence.
We're not prepared for this. Shows end, people applaud, that's how it works. "What do we do?" someone whispers.
"Wait," I say.
Then, all at once, it starts. I'm not talking that phony-baloney thing you see in the movies where a few people start slowly and eventually everyone joins in. No, this applause starts like a clap of thunder. I've never heard anything like it. It's as if the sky opened up. The music begins and we run down the aisle to the stage and the audience goes wild, leaping to their feet in a real, honest-to-God standing ovation. Not the kind where a couple of idiots get up in front because they're the type of assholes who always give standing ovations, and then the people behind them have to get up because they can't see or because they want to stretch their legs or duck out early to beat the traffic. No, this time the audience rises as a body, as if they were carried on a gigantic wave. It's pandemonium. We sing the final reprise of "Day by Day" and I feel so exhilarated I could leap out of my skin.
On my cue, we take a company bow, once, twice, three times. The applause is still going strong and I allow us to stand there, basking in the goodwill of people rewarding us for a job well done. I gesture to the band, which takes a bow, then walk into the wings where Kelly and Mr. Lucas are standing. Mr. Lucas gestures to Ziba at the stage-manager's desk to join them, and I lead the three onto the stage. The applause rises to acknowledge them. Mr. Lucas is always subdued and humble about this part, but his eyes shine with pride. I think he'd rather not come out onstage at all, but he know we'll insist on it. We take one final bow together, then back up to make room for the curtain. We turn to one another the way a cast does after the curtain closes. We're mature enough not to cheer (it's so unprofessional), but Mr. Lucas stops us in our tracks by shouting, "Nobody move." We stand listening to the sound of applause coming down like so much rain and he gestures with his crutch to the wings. "Curtain!" he says.
The curtain opens again and the audience is still there, clapping rhythmically now while we take our final bow. I don't care what I have to do - I'll clean toilets or dig ditches - but there is no way I'm going to give up a lifetime of this. No way."
Great stuff! Ah, this reminds me of why I love the theater so much. Sadly, I have not been able to be onstage for over a year now, but I hope to make the audition for the fall show once I return to school.
***
On a completely different note, I had a dream on Friday night that was totally horror-movie-worthy. It involved an abandoned mansion, 8 people (including myself), scary monsters, horrible deaths, the token black man, ghosts, creepy mannequins, and all. It would have made a spectacular horror movie. If only I were good enough to write a script for it, but I have no idea where I would even begin! The funny thing is that I woke up feeling not a bit anxious or frightened by my dream. ...weird...
That's all for now folks!
*DACM
I lean forward to search the blackness for the voice. The figure raises a pistol and fires a shot that echoes all over the auditorium.
The place goes nuts. People scream. I smash the blood pack under my shirt and collapse on the floor as the figure (Boonbrain) dashes out the nearest exit. A couple of audience members actually run after him like it's real. The stage goes to red and the electric guitars start to wail.
It's fucking brilliant.
There's no time for the audience to recover. Onstage it's chaos: fifty teenagers keen and scream, choristers dressed as cops, paramedics, and reporters dash on trying to restore order, but only complicating things. And in the middle of it all is me, lying in a pool of blood. This, this, this is what being an actor is about. To be able to elicit such a strong reaction for hundreds of people at once - that power is awesome and irresistible and humbling. If you want to think I'm needy because I love applause, go ahead. But I know that the reason I perform is for moments like these, moments when you connect with an audience and take them somewhere, whether its' scary of funny of sad, it doesn't matter. That's what makes it worthwhile.
The cast surrounds me as I gasp my final lines.
"Oh God, I'm dying..."
All around me disciples cry real tears, even Natie who, much to my surprise, heave huge coul-rattling sobs. But I can't help but feel so very, very happy as I indulge in the sheer sensual pleasure of pretending.
To die, to sleep; To sleep perchance to dream.
Natie gently closes my eyes for me. Some of the disciples can hardly sing, they're so choked up, but me, I feel nothing. No, nothing's not the right word. It's more like nothingness, and a sense of calm washes over me like warm water. As the disciples carry me to the back of the auditorium, I have no worries. There is no Al, no Dagmar, no Juilliard. I don't even have to carry my own weight. The disciples sing the finals notes of "Prepare Ye" fro the lobby, then gently lay me down on the cool linoleum floor. I don't want to move. Ever. Slowly I open my eyes like I'm awakening from a dream and listen for the applause.
Silence.
We're not prepared for this. Shows end, people applaud, that's how it works. "What do we do?" someone whispers.
"Wait," I say.
Then, all at once, it starts. I'm not talking that phony-baloney thing you see in the movies where a few people start slowly and eventually everyone joins in. No, this applause starts like a clap of thunder. I've never heard anything like it. It's as if the sky opened up. The music begins and we run down the aisle to the stage and the audience goes wild, leaping to their feet in a real, honest-to-God standing ovation. Not the kind where a couple of idiots get up in front because they're the type of assholes who always give standing ovations, and then the people behind them have to get up because they can't see or because they want to stretch their legs or duck out early to beat the traffic. No, this time the audience rises as a body, as if they were carried on a gigantic wave. It's pandemonium. We sing the final reprise of "Day by Day" and I feel so exhilarated I could leap out of my skin.
On my cue, we take a company bow, once, twice, three times. The applause is still going strong and I allow us to stand there, basking in the goodwill of people rewarding us for a job well done. I gesture to the band, which takes a bow, then walk into the wings where Kelly and Mr. Lucas are standing. Mr. Lucas gestures to Ziba at the stage-manager's desk to join them, and I lead the three onto the stage. The applause rises to acknowledge them. Mr. Lucas is always subdued and humble about this part, but his eyes shine with pride. I think he'd rather not come out onstage at all, but he know we'll insist on it. We take one final bow together, then back up to make room for the curtain. We turn to one another the way a cast does after the curtain closes. We're mature enough not to cheer (it's so unprofessional), but Mr. Lucas stops us in our tracks by shouting, "Nobody move." We stand listening to the sound of applause coming down like so much rain and he gestures with his crutch to the wings. "Curtain!" he says.
The curtain opens again and the audience is still there, clapping rhythmically now while we take our final bow. I don't care what I have to do - I'll clean toilets or dig ditches - but there is no way I'm going to give up a lifetime of this. No way."
Great stuff! Ah, this reminds me of why I love the theater so much. Sadly, I have not been able to be onstage for over a year now, but I hope to make the audition for the fall show once I return to school.
***
On a completely different note, I had a dream on Friday night that was totally horror-movie-worthy. It involved an abandoned mansion, 8 people (including myself), scary monsters, horrible deaths, the token black man, ghosts, creepy mannequins, and all. It would have made a spectacular horror movie. If only I were good enough to write a script for it, but I have no idea where I would even begin! The funny thing is that I woke up feeling not a bit anxious or frightened by my dream. ...weird...
That's all for now folks!
*DACM