Date of Run: February 9-March 3, 2024
Role: Patsy
Photos by Katie Kelley
After achieving a long
desired goal of doing four shows in a calendar year in 2023, I had no intention
of slowing down. My first show of 2024 was Monty
Python’s Spamalot at Novato Theater Company. The director was Larry
Williams, the choreographer was Marilyn Izdebski and the music director was
Daniel Savio. Before I go further, let me tell you a story.
In May 2009, months before I made my theatrical debut and almost two years before I broke out onto the community
theatre scene, I took a music theatre scenes class at
This musical had been on my
bucket list of shows ever since I saw a national touring production in 2012.
The show was hysterical and looked like a lot of fun. This was the first
musical where I got a hefty part of a song. It wasn’t technically a solo song,
but it was more than one or two lines. In fact, this role was definitely the
largest single, not ensemble role I had ever done in a musical.
I had a few options going into the beginning of 2024, but this one shot up to the top of my list the minute I found out it was going to be done. The auditions were held at the theater. At this particular theater, the house was separated from the lobby by a wall that did not go up to the ceiling. As such, I could hear the auditions of everyone before me.
For my audition song, I had a
little trouble thinking of what I could sing. The last time I auditioned for
this musical, I used “There’s No Business Like Show Business” from Annie Get Your Gun, but I was reluctant
to use it because I didn’t want to repeat myself. I did keep it as a backup, just
in case. When I searched online for suggestions, songs from the musical Camelot kept being listed for almost
every male character in this musical. I felt I needed something more comical,
much lighter. Eventually, I decided on “Comedy Tonight” from A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the
Forum.
It was very fortunate that I
was able to attend the callbacks, which were held on a Saturday afternoon. At
the time, I was performing in Fiddler on
the Roof at a company that often did matinee performances on Saturday. But
for some reason, they did not do that on this particular day. Everybody who
auditioned was sent the same materials, which consisted of sides and sections
from three songs: “Laker Girls Cheer,” “He Is Not Dead Yet,” and “Always Look
on the Bright Side of Life.” Good thing I had listened to the soundtrack so
many times that I was familiar with them all. I was a little confused though,
because I thought they’d send out songs for people being considered for certain
characters.
Everybody sang “Always Look
on the Bright Side of Life” and “He Is Not Dead Yet” in small groups. When it
came time for my turn, I was the only one who did not read off any sheet music.
I had even brought my own copy of that song and lent it to someone else because the sheet music that the theater provided was a bit small to read. When my group was finished, Larry
gave me a shout-out: “This guy. He doesn’t need a script, doesn’t need
rehearsal. Nothing.” Little did he know of my previous history with this song;
still had the muscle memory in there somewhere. Afterwards, he asked me what
roles I was going for; I said anything. There’s not really a bad role in Spamalot if you ask me. Even the one
scene characters like the French taunter and the Black Knight are a riot.
Then we did scenes, which
meant a lot of waiting. The role I mainly read for was Patsy. I didn’t get to
read all the characters I would have liked, but I went all out in one scene.
The scene in question takes place at the French castle and the knights are
trying to trick them by using a giant wooden rabbit a la the Trojan horse. The
character I was reading for didn’t have many lines, but I really milked the
physicality since he was the one who brought on the rabbit. I made like it was
really heavy and I struggled to bring it on and then flopped on the floor when
I pretended to stop lugging it on. Another actor joined in on it and pretended
to push it on.
Larry, Marilyn and Daniel
said it would be more than a week before they would start reaching out to
people. Then not a week later, I received an email from Marilyn who also
happened to run Novato Theater Company in addition to being the choreographer.
The subject line said, “Offer Document.” Holding my breath, I opened the
document which was shared through Google OneDrive. It was a document about
Covid protocols and reporting…for April to September 2020. I figured one of
two things had happened: either she was hacked, or she had meant to send
something but sent the wrong thing. After contacting her, I discovered it was
the former.
Nearly a week after that, I finally
got the true offer email and this time from Larry. Forgetting to brace myself,
I opened the email and in it, Larry said he enjoyed my reading and portrayal of
Patsy and offered me the role. My knees literally buckled. I couldn’t believe
it. It was several minutes before I was able to calm down; I almost cried tears
of joy. I couldn’t look at the email again until the following day and even
then, I had a hard time going back to it to reread it. It just seemed too good
to be true. I thought maybe I didn’t read it correctly or maybe I dreamed it.
As Patsy |
And then the nervousness set
in. I had never had a solo of this magnitude before. And truth be told, I was
not the best singer; it could take me awhile to master my vocal parts in any
show I’ve done. I worried that I would sing it all wrong and look like a fool
who had been miscast. Even if I had been the best singer, I wasn’t a good
mover; without someone telling me my every move I was hopeless. What would I do
when singing my song? A little dance? Stay in one spot, but move only my upper
half? What about my arms? I could only hope that Larry and Marilyn would work
something out. To be safe, I looked up videos from the original Broadway
production to see what the actor who originally played my role did, in case they
gave me nothing.
The rest of the cast included
Bruce Viera, Dani Beem, Nicole Thordsen, Izaak Heath, Michael Coury Murdock,
Jon Griffin, Bethe Jensen, Kevin Allen, Jere Torkelsen, Anderson Templeton,
Paul Hogarth, James Canter, Gail Gongoll, Arup Chakrabarti, Abby Burton, Shino
Yamagami Cline, Olivia Ekoue-Totou and Hannah Passanisi.
Though the run of the show
would not be until February, we began with a handful of music rehearsals in
November. These were strictly for anything that involved ensemble. Solos would
be done at a later date, mainly because a number of the principals were not
available during that time. With the holiday season approaching, the directors
wanted to squeeze in anything where they could.
Since it was a little early
to determine who would be in what scene, the decision was made to have everyone
learn everything and then peel people out of scenes and songs later. Over those first few
rehearsals, the number of people who made it got smaller and smaller. It was a
little tough at times without the principals being there. I knew there was no
way I’d be in a number of scenes due to costume changes and all that, but I
opted to sing everything anyway if only to keep my voice in shape.
For this particular
production, I had bigger worries than Covid. At the same time as rehearsals
were beginning, a Broadway revival of the musical had started performances. At
the back of my mind was the fear that this would cause the rights to the show
to be revoked. I had a legitimate reason to feel this way; I knew of another company that had planned to do the musical Annie that April, only to lose the rights because of a national tour that was planned to
begin the same year. Regardless, we moved forward with rehearsals.
Most of the rehearsals when
we started full time centered on staging or dancing. Every Saturday rehearsal
was just for the four women who were referred to as "the dancers" since they did all the harder
steps. We did not devote as much time to the music as I would have liked. We
did review the songs that were in the scene we were staging on that particular
day, but only briefly. And that was it. I’ve been in shows that devoted a lot
more time to the music than five or six rehearsals. It really affected our
timing, especially when there were music cues.
Complicating matters was the
fact that Daniel got frustrated over mistakes. There was the usual frustration
that every music director gets when the cast makes mistakes, but that’s to be
expected. The bigger problem was that the score he played from had many errors
whether a wrong word in the lyrics or a different line written for a cue. For
example, before “Knights of the Round Table,” King Arthur has a line “Let’s go
to Camelot,” to which the other knights respond, “To Camelot!” In Daniel’s score
the cue was written “We’re going to Camelot,” and he all but had a conniption
when it wasn’t being said.
Indeed, our scripts and
scores had quite a few errors here and there and the lyrics in the script didn’t always match the ones in the score. That was
a trend I was increasingly noticing from the materials given by the licensing
companies. Was proofreading these really such a chore on their end?
In addition to this, Daniel’s
brain could not handle anything other than his keyboard or for that matter his
own band, making music or any outside sounds other than singing. In the finale,
Michael (Galahad), John (Bedevere) and I were to come on with tambourines. But
when that sound started, he wouldn’t have it, demanding a rehearsal with them
first (Okay, when?). Later, one or
two of us got into the song and started clapping in rhythm to the music. He
wouldn’t have that either. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d stop a show if an
audience member applauded at anywhere but the end of a song. The tambourines were never seen again.
The strange thing was Daniel
was the music director when I did Rent,
nearly two years previously, but I didn’t recall him being that persnickety. I
mentioned that to someone during a rehearsal and that person answered, “Because
that wasn’t Marilyn.”
Indeed, there was a lot of
bickering between Daniel and Marilyn during rehearsals. On at least one
occasion, Jere, the stage manager, had to literally get between them and say,
“We’re not doing this.” From what I heard from someone else in the cast was
that it was that way every time they worked together. My guess is because their
brains were too similar and not in a good way. Both had their idiosyncrasies and
Marilyn had the kind of brain that was firing thoughts in every direction all
at once.
I had been reluctant to do a
show at this company again after Tommy and
Rent two years earlier. The former
went up in smoke and the latter was not that happy of an experience. While Rent was technically through Marin
Musical Theatre Company, it became a joint production with NTC. Tommy was also not the best experience
(you can read the details on that post). What tipped the scale for me was that
I would not have to deal with Marilyn quite
as much this time around. While I did have some dance numbers, Larry staged
any songs that didn’t really require dancing, such as “All For One” and “I’m
All Alone.”
"All Alone" |
While there were big dance
numbers in this show, the heavy-duty parts fell to "the dancers," Abby, Shino, Olivia and
Hannah. Only they did the tap
dancing in numbers that required it. To be brief, whatever dancing everyone
else in the show did, these four women did a little more.
"Laker Girls Cheer." The four dancers in the green skirts behind me. L to R: Hannah, Shino, Abby, Olivia |
At the beginning of every
rehearsal that involved only staging scenes with just talking and no music,
Larry gathered the cast in a circle and led us in a theatre game or two. One
example was Red Ball (You can look up how to play it). At one rehearsal he
decided to forgo the games and do something else instead: a person would stand
in the middle of the circle and sing a song until someone else tapped them on
the shoulder, took their place and started singing a different song.
The person I shared every scene with was Bruce, who played King Arthur. My character followed his at every entrance, banging two coconuts together like a horse trotting. At our first rehearsal, I broke the ice by saying, "I guess I'll have your backside memorized by the end." He laughed. He was a good man and I rather liked working with him. He often called me his rock because I had a good memory for lines and what was happening. Often, whenever his memory needed jogging, he'd ask me what line/scene was next and I'd have it for him.
One of my favorite photos from the show. With Bruce as King Arthur. This photo perfectly sums up our relationship in the show. |
By far my easiest rehearsal
was when they staged “You Won’t Succeed in Showbiz.” For that entire number,
Bruce and I would be sitting or standing on stage right. Bruce had a conflict
that night, so it was just me there. I spent three hours sitting in a chair onstage
until I had to do something, which was run offstage, grab a cane and hand it
back to Nicole, who played Sir Robin. I wondered whether I really needed to be
there at all, but I suppose they needed a body to be there for spacing
purposes.
I knew from the very
beginning that I would have to wear a backpack during the entire show, meant to
represent all the things that Arthur and Patsy take on their journeys. I found
out what it looked like more than a month before opening. After trying it on, I
immediately told the costume designer that the wooden frame needed some kind of
padding since it dug into my back. Larry and Marilyn did want me to wear it
during rehearsals, especially Marilyn since there were certain things, she
wanted from me when dancing. I did it the night we staged “Run Away,” since I
had to fall backwards while wearing it, but that didn’t last long; it was
hurting my shoulder and my back too much. I resolved not to wear it again until
it had been fixed.
By three weeks before
opening, we had all the scenes staged and strung together. Now we just had to
smooth out the rough edges and get it running like a well-oiled machine. And
there were a lot of rough edges. For example, “Run Away” took several
rehearsals before it came together because it was a fast-paced song and if you
missed your entrance, the entire number would be derailed. Not only that, but it took ages to get the tempo down and I'm not sure if we ever did get it right once.
As we got more settled into
the show and started doing run-throughs, I noticed that this was a very fast
show. In the first act, it seemed that we’d no sooner finished a song than we
started the next one. Even the slower songs in the show never seemed to take
long. Indeed, when performances started, the entire show, intermission
included, took about two hours and fifteen minutes.
A little more than two weeks
before opening, I finally had the backpack to start wearing. It came with its
own pair of coconuts, strung together, and I really liked the sound this
particular pair made when they clicked together. I had to work on figuring out
how to wear them without them clicking together since Larry felt that would be
too distracting.
Only one problem with this
pair: they were very weak on the round side, and they accidentally banged
together, a crack formed. The night after that happened, and just when I
thought I figured out how to wear them, the one with a crack broke. I thought I
could slide the string holding them far up my back until I needed them, but
then, during “Knights of the Round Table,” I suddenly remembered I needed them
and when I tried to get them out, the string got caught, ripped apart and one of the pair hit the stage and broke clean in half. Luckily, they’d bought several pairs of coconuts
should that happen.
Other than that, now that I
finally had the backpack to wear, I could experiment with how my character
would move. On the first night, I tried to always be hunched over; that didn’t
last long. By the end of the night, my lower back was killing me. I next tried
having an open stance with my knees out, but only slightly hunched. My main
reason was because I’m taller than the role of Patsy is traditionally cast.
Over time I developed a small bit where if Patsy tried puffing out his chest
like he was confident or tough, I would start falling backwards from the
weight.
I also did my best at a
cockney accent. I must have been doing a good job of it because one night,
while Marilyn was emphasizing how to pronounce certain words (ie “dahnce”
instead of “dance), she said I was doing very well.
I had hoped to not wear my
backpack during two numbers: the finale and, more importantly, during my song
“Always Look on the Bright Side of Life,” but Larry and Marilyn overruled that
on my song. That meant my movement was not as free as I would have liked in my
song. It was rather restricting with that on, and it was heavy. I knew very early
on after getting it that I couldn’t take it off between scenes since I couldn’t
get it back on quickly. Instead, whenever I’d be offstage, I’d have to sit down
with something behind me for the backpack to sit on as well, like some stairs.
I had one break in the second act where I could take it off, but that was it.
On the upside, I lucked out
in that I only had one costume in this show. That was different from how it was
done in the original Broadway production. In that production, the only actors
who played one role were the ones who played King Arthur and the Lady of the
This show was the second time
I had to do promotional photos. The only other time was Arsenic and Old Lace over four years earlier. My costume was not
quite finished as I did not have the right kind of shoes. That was no surprise;
in every show I’ve done, I’ve had to bring in my own shoes because every company I've worked at previously never had a pair in my size or if they did, they'd be so worn, flattened and beaten that they felt a size larger. Eventually, I had to go to
a few thrift stores and see if I could find something close to what they
wanted. Boots would have been preferable, but for men, that was impossible. I
did succeed in finding something acceptable, but I did worry whether I’d find
anything at all since stores often don’t have shoes in my size.
After the sitzprobe, I go two
complements from other people in the cast. Paul said I had a beautiful singing
voice and Gail said I sounded good on the microphone; her exact words were “It
was just…Whoa.” I’m guessing there were two explanations for that: they had
only met me during that show and had never heard me before or they had never
heard me without a face mask on.
In the week leading up to
tech weekend, we started adding in all the technical elements like lights and
costumes. For the costumes, that was not necessarily a bad thing; for anyone who had a
quick change, it gave them a chance to see how long it took and where they
needed to set it up offstage. God knows I could have used that extra time in previous
shows I’ve done. Again, I was very grateful to just have one costume to wear this time
around.
Two days into that week of
rehearsals, something unfortunate happened to me. In this week we were doing
run-throughs of the show every night, stopping only if necessary. In the second
act of the show, Bruce and I had a long break between “You Won’t Succeed” and “His Name
is Lancelot,” and I would remove my backpack for that. While they were
performing “His Name is Lancelot,” I strapped my backpack back on as usual on
stage right and headed for stage left.
The area behind the set at
Novato Theater Company is a narrow passageway connecting the two sides. And
with my backpack on with all its accoutrements, it was a tight squeeze and I worried over something
getting caught and ripping off or causing my backpack to break. I always took
my time inching over there, which is what I did that night. This time, however,
when I turned the corner, I didn’t notice a wooden frame against the wall, and I
must have bumped it, or my backpack somehow got caught because it fell right on my head.
Jere happened to be on that
side of the stage at the time so he either saw it or the moment after it when I
yelled in pain. He immediately bellowed “HOLD!” at the top of his voice and
since he was a professional opera singer (he was a chorus member with the San
Francisco Opera), his voice could carry. That stopped everything. They got me
some instant ice packs and had me sit for a little while. That having happened,
they decided to forgo doing the last quarter of the show, lest any more bad
karma take place. Needless to say, no one was happy that such a thing took
place. Luckily, since it was made of wood, it only produced a berry sized bump on my head.
When we came to tech weekend
that’s when costume headaches began to happen. For some inexplicable reason,
Marilyn wanted people to wear their costumes on Saturday so they could see how
everything looked under the lights. I’ve never had that experience with any
other company. If you ask me, it was not a smart move. It may have been fine leading up to it, but on these two particular days, there is a lot of stopping while the cues
were adjusted and programmed into the system, and there were times when we’d
come to a scene that had a bit of dialogue with no sound or lighting changes in
it. When that happened, we’d skip much of the scene and go to the next cue. That caused problems with costumes since people would be changing and we’d have to wait. That’s probably why Saturday of tech weekend is usually not a
costume day in any company.
I was not surprised that it
happened that way. I got the feeling Marilyn didn’t understand the concept of
costume changes in Community Theater. It wasn’t like it was on Broadway where
it was all Velcro and magnets and people waiting in the wings to help with the
quick changes. The most glaring instance of her lack of understanding was the
staging of “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.” In the original Broadway
production, the song started with just Arthur and Patsy onstage, segued into a
big dance number and then ended with just Arthur and Patsy onstage again. I
believe that’s how Larry wanted it, but Marilyn overruled him and had it end as
a big number. Then when about five people left the stage, she was like “Where
are you going?” Um…they had a costume change. She wasn’t exactly thrilled about
having to adjust for a handful of people gone.
Michael Coury Murdock (MCM)
had the most worrisome costume change. He played the roles of Sir Galahad, the
black knight and Prince Herbert’s father (the original production also had the
same actor play those roles). If you’ve ever watched the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail, you’d
know what happens in the black knight scene. MCM had to have help getting into
that costume since it was complex and even then, it was a few rehearsals before
they made it work. He said that costume was going to cause him anxiety every
night and I thought I was going to feel that too.
Speaking of that scene, on
our last night before having an audience, MCM caused me to shake, trying to
restrain myself from laughing. He had a line” You chickenshit, lily-livered,
upper-class twit!” And the way he delivered it almost made me break onstage. I
don’t know why it had to happen when it never had before, but it was a struggle
to hold it together and I tried to play it like I had a cough. It took a couple
days to get over that phase.
On Wednesday before opening
we had an invited audience of high school students from two or three different
schools. They were all theatre nerds, and it became apparent very quickly that
some of them had done this show before. In fact, some of our costume pieces had
come from one of those schools. The students were really into it, mouthing the
words to the songs or, in some cases, singing along with us, and cheering at
certain moments in the show and every song. It was a rather fun night.
Show finale. |
It wasn’t a night without hiccups
though. Marilyn distinctly told us at 7:20 that there would be a hard start at
7:30. A few of us went to the dressing room for the bathroom and any last-minute touches, thinking we had time. Now, at NTC, the theater is in one
section of the building and the dressing room (Suite G) is on the end of the
building at least two doors down. And in that room, there are no monitors and no
clock (that night anyway) so we would not hear what would be going on. But it
was the only option if we had to use the bathroom.
I made my way backstage after
using the bathroom. Hanging out in there until the last minute was never an
option for me since I had to put on my backpack. It was 7:25 and I heard Jere
saying “Going in 3-4 minutes.” (Okay,
great). Then, moments later, the lights went down, and the music started.
Somebody had quickly dashed over to tell anyone still over there we were going,
and I saw Hannah rush to the stage right side, just barely making it in time
for her cue. Andy, however, missed his cue (Not
his fault). He was not happy about that as well as being told off shortly
after. I quite agreed with his feelings on the matter-that they told us one
thing and then did another, that it felt like they were setting us up for
failure and they were not giving us any calls (10 minute, five minute or even
places).
Normally, all that would have
been Jere’s job since he was the stage manager, but he was also playing a few
roles in the show. I could not understand whose idea that was. The stage
manager’s job is demanding enough in any show and that person is meant to be in
the booth calling the cues or from offstage if there is no booth. It was hard
enough for him coordinating props, set pieces, and actors, but having to
perform as well? As much as I liked and respected Jere, I strongly felt he
should not have been in the show. He wasn’t please with that mess at the start.
At intermission he said to anyone on stage right that after this show, he was
not going to be both stage manager and performer again. Only time would tell if
that actually happened.
The bar for audiences was set
very high after those high schoolers. The night after them was a paid preview
and the audience on that night was a little too polite. On opening night, it
was a pretty responsive audience and a full house (not entirely sold out, but
close). The Saturday audience laughed a lot. Some people in the cast felt it
was not as responsive as the previous night, but I’m not so sure about that.
Some of them did stand at curtain call that night. The Sunday performance of
opening weekend happened to be the same day as the Superbowl and once the 49ers
made it in, a number of people wanted ticket exchanges. As it was, we had about
sixty people and some of them were very vocal. Of the entire run that weekend was the least sold and that Sunday was by far the smallest audience.
The reviews began rolling in
after the first weekend. Several critics were there opening night. This was
probably the most reviewed show I had done in quite some time. By my count
there were at least six reviews and all of them were uniformly positive of the
show as a whole. All were universal in the praise for Dani as the Lady of the
I was only slightly disappointed that my name wasn't mentioned in reviews. I did not really expect that it would since, while I am onstage a bit, my role isn't that prominent. However, I did get quite a few compliments from audience members after the show, many of whom complimented my singing. The best one however, came in the form of an email from a director in the area who knew me, but never casted me in her shows, with the subject line saying, "Well Done!":
"Hi Michael!
I saw Spamalot tonight, and didn't get the chance to tell you how much I appreciated your work. Well done! My husband specifically pointed out your voice after the show. He really liked it, as did I. I'm sure it's been fun for you."
The second weekend sold out, though since it was very rainy that weekend, there were a few no-shows. As that weekend went on the rest of the run began to sell out too and by the end of the Sunday performance, there were only tickets available for the two remaining Fridays.
It was hard to tell whether
the Friday or Saturday audience was the better one on the second weekend. On
the one hand, the entire Friday audience gave us a standing ovation, but on the
other hand, the Saturday audience seemed to laugh more. There happened to be a
handful of theatre people in the audience that night, but even so, it was still
hard to decide. Performance wise, and speaking for myself personally, I thought
Friday was my better night.
On this particular weekend I
had to pick up after others when their stuff ended up left on stage. First, on
Friday, one of Dani’s shoes flew off her foot during “Knights of the Round
Table” and ended up on stage right at the curtain concealing the offstage area.
Hannah quickly grabbed it. As the rest of us went on, I saw the other one just
as Dani said “Watch out for my shoe!” (I found out later that she just took it
off and tossed it over hoping to get it offstage; better that than doing the rest of
the number with one high heel on). Thinking quickly, and knowing I’d be next to
her when the song ended, I grabbed it and did the rest of the number with it in
my hands, trying to be discreet about it before handing it back to her. On
Saturday, before “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life,” the actors playing
the Knights who Say Ni dropped one of their props, a fake herring. I managed to
grab it during the song and get it off the stage.
"Knights of the Round Table" |
On Sunday, Jere and Marilyn
warned us that there would be wind later that day which could lead to a power
outage (it would not be the first time it had happened at that company as those who had worked there previously told me). If that were to happen, then the rest of the performance would be cancelled. Mercifully, it didn’t happen this time, but there was one moment where I
thought it might. We finished “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” and the
lights went dark and the sound and light cue that are supposed to accompany
that were delayed long enough for me to think it was happening.
The rest of the run sold out
two days after the conclusion of the second weekend. Before that could happen,
I contacted my mother telling her to get tickets while she still could because
she hadn’t done so yet. Good thing I did. After the run sold out, people who
showed up had the option to be put on the waitlist. Marilyn, who had a very
hard time saying no to people who showed up, worked very hard to squeeze as
many as she could in there by using folding chairs. It could be a tight squeeze
for moments when anyone had to go in the audience.
The third weekend passed
without incident all with good audiences, and after the performance on Sunday,
we had a cast party at Marilyn’s house. They felt it would be better to do it
that day than on the final day when striking the set would take too long.
The audience on Friday of the
final weekend was really good. They laughed a lot and a good number of them
stood up at curtain call. The audience on Saturday was also good, but in
particular there was one audience member, Molly Larsen-Shine who was another
theatre community member with a very distinctive laugh. She laughed at a lot of
moments in the show giving it a boost. My mother was also in the audience that
night and it was also the night when we filmed the performance. I thought it
was one of my better performances overall; from my first solo I knew it.
I was a little worried on
that Saturday because of the weather. Like the Sunday of the second weekend,
this day was very windy and I was worried about the power going out. I
especially did not want that to happen on this particular night since my mother
was in the audience. As with every show I did post-Covid, I worried over
performances getting cancelled and she wouldn’t be able to see it. I didn't care what happened to the rest of the run after she saw the show.
Closing day started fine
enough until we got to “Knights of the Round Table.” During that song there’s a
tap-dancing section during which there is a gag where Arthur steps center stage
and pretends to tap dance, while Patsy bangs coconuts together rhythmically.
When it came to that, I’m moving stage right, I see two of the four main dancers of the
show come onstage, as they always did, I turn around to start moving back center stage and no sign of Bruce! He just
vanished. I briefly panicked and I thought, “Don’t tell me he blanked and got
offstage too early.” I had to do some quick thinking and with only seconds to do it in. When it came to that moment, I
thought “Here goes nothing,” and I jumped center stage and did the bit myself,
pretending to tap while banging the coconuts together. I got many
congratulations afterwards. Isaak told me that was the best thing I could have
done at the moment. Beth told me “Thank you.” Paul gave me a shout out in Suite G at intermission. But the golden moment was after
the show when Marilyn took my hands and said to me “Thank you for saving the
fucking number” three times. She told me she could see the wheels in my head
turning from the booth.
It turned out that Bruce was
battling a chest cold for a couple weeks by then and it hit hard shortly after
“Not Dead Yet.” Not knowing he was sick, I was ready to rage at him until a few
minutes before “Run Away,” when we were offstage and I saw him looking rather
unwell with Tracy, the costume designer, checking on him. We spent the rest of
the show helping him get across the finish line. He’s not the first person I’ve
worked with who performed while sick, but I still question his decision to
leave us in the lurch with no warning.
In this musical, there is one
moment toward the end of the second act where there is audience participation.
You can look up the synopsis on Wikipedia for the full details, but every night,
whoever was in the seat numbered A101 would get to come up on the stage and
have their picture taken with the cast by way of a Polaroid camera. It was my
job to go into the house and bring the victim up (that is the term used in the
stage directions of the script). We had a wide selection of people.
The audience participation part during a rehearsal. Larry stepped in as the "victim," so we'd have a body to practice with. |
The first show (Wednesday
preview) was a kid (I forget his name) who was the grandson of our lighting
designer. We believe he was tricked into being in that seat because he seemed
like he was reluctant to be there.
The preview performance on
Thursday was a friend of
On opening night, we had
MCM’s oldest son, Michael Antony, in the seat. He came dressed up as a knight.
He and his younger brother had been to rehearsals, so he knew what was going to happen.
When I said my line “It’s you! Stand up peasant,” he responded, “I know,” and
started heading for the steps. I had to stop him until it was time. And then
when he got up there, he didn’t seem to want to be there. Apparently, as MCM
said later he got stage fright.
On Saturday of opening
weekend, we had a man named Gary Rizzo. He seemed a little embarrassed, but he
went along with it and he took instruction very well. He was a perfect victim.
On Sunday we had our one and
only person who was a dud. It was an older woman named Elvira (she wouldn’t give her last
name) and she looked as if she was trying to disappear down into the seat.
Bruce had a strong feeling very early on that that was going to happen. I could
hear Marilyn whispering “Patsy, Patsy!” up in the booth, but I wasn’t going to
respond to that unprofessionalism. It didn’t matter in the end; we simply did
the scene with her in her seat and the camera was empty that night anyway. We
lost count of how many photos were taken.
After that Sunday, Marilyn
resolved to try to maneuver people into the seat who might actually play ball.
Usually, it was someone who she knew or a person in the cast knew and requested
to have in the seat. On Friday of the second weekend, it was a man named Larry
Sher and either he or his wife had been on the board of NTC some years prior.
On Saturday, Marilyn persuaded a teenage girl name Brynn Williams. She must've been a student of Marilyn's; she was a
good sport and did everything wonderfully. On Sunday we had what I’m sure was a
personal favorite of many; she certainly was mine. Her name was Arlene (not
sure on the spelling of the last name, but it’s pronounced Si-col-ski). She
gave us her name as “Queen Arlene.” She was an acquaintance of Paul’s fiancĂ©e
and he described her as a feisty 92-year-old lady. She was quite the attention
hog, but very entertaining. The only thing that worried us was her being able
to get up and down the stairs to the stage. There were only two, but for somebody who's 92 years old, that would still be daunting.
On Friday of the third
weekend, we had a woman named Kayla Gold. She had been in NTC’s previous show The Addams Family, along with a few
others in the cast. I was even wearing one of her costume pieces in the show.
On Saturday we had a woman named Sandy Lucas who came in very nicely dressed.
I’ve no idea if she was an acquaintance to anyone, but she did well. On Sunday Nicole’s
mom Darilyn Thordsen was in the seat. As she was definitely a theatre lover, we
could count on her to go along with it.
On Friday of the final
weekend, there was a little drama. MCM’s younger son wanted to be in the seat
and the two boys came early so they could get it. However, Bruce was adamantly
against that since he worried (not unfoundedly) that he might give it away and
it would be a repeat of the last time. When my first entrance came, I was
surprised to see a woman there instead. I had fully expected Bruce to lose that
fight. I found out later that there was quite a bit of a fight and Larry had to
step in. Who we did get was a woman named Paula Olny. We had a little trouble
understanding her last name. On Saturday we had Dani’s brother, Marco
Innocenti. He was a tall, handsome and smartly dressed man and even bowed to
Bruce when he got onstage. On Sunday, it was Hannah’s grandma (I forgot to
write down her name) and it was her second time seeing the show (Aw).
This was a wonderful show to do. I was so glad I got to knock this one off my bucket list of shows. The fact that I got to sing a song that had a special place in my heart and my memories, made this all the more meaningful. I was sad that, much like the running time of a performance, the run was over quickly. In all, it was a perfect way to start off 2024.
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