Next script on my script shelf:
Next play in my little unalphabetized pile of Samuel French plays is Anne of Green Gables: The Musical
Well. I played Anne Shirley in a college production of this musical. I don’t quite know what to say about it and I haven’t written much about it – at least not directly. I’ve written about it indirectly – because of the boyfriend I had at the time – who played Gilbert Blythe. (Here’s one of those posts.) We were co-stars. We started going out during the rehearsal process. And we proceeded to break up and get back together again and break up and get back together again throughout the entire run of the show. We were SO tiresome. But the fact of playing Anne of feckin’ Green Gables – it was an absolute dream come true. I can’t even describe it. It’s rare that a dream that runs THAT deep can ever come true, but this one did. My experience of being that girl made such a deep impact on me – it changed me forever. It also was one of the most challenging things I had ever done. I’m a singer – but this role was way more difficult than anything I had ever done – being in the chorus is worlds away from being the lead – and having to carry the show – It was a daunting prospect. I lost 25 pounds. I have never been so skinny in my life. I weighed 100 pounds. I had amazing costumes. I had to go from the age of 11 to the age of 17 during the course of the show. I did this with costume changes, etc., but I had to ACT that change as well. I had to go from little girl to young woman. I had one quick change which had to occur in 20 seconds. I stood backstage, stock still, arms stuck straight out – and a crew of costume people basically undressed me and dressed me again – just in time for me to race back onstage in time for my next line. I wasn’t allowed to “help” – no. It was quicker to have the team do it. It was amazing. Teamwork. Collaboration. I had three wigs (one that had to be green, for the infamous moment when Anne accidentally dyes her red hair green) … it was a huge event. I felt famous. For a good month, I felt as famous as I had ever felt. I was famous. In Rhode Island, I was famous. The show became a finalist in the ACTF – a big deal in college theatre – THE big deal in college theatre – and we traveled the show to New Hampshire to the finalists. On a stage bigger than any stage I have been on since. Amazing experience. One for the books. To quote Anne Shirley herself, it was an “epoch in my life”. A high-water mark. A true triumph. And well-deserved. I worked my ASS off.
The production was spectacular.
Here’s the scene when Matthew first brings Anne home from the train station. Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert, farmers, brother and sister, had sent away for an orphan boy to help on the farm. But there was a mix-up and the orphanage sent a girl. Matthew, who is shy, was unable to tell the ecstatic Anne that she needed to be sent back … they have a long drive home to the farm, and Anne, a chatty little girl who has had a terrible loveless life, raves about her happiness, and how excited she is. Matthew walks into the house with Anne – and Marilla – a stern spinster – immediately says: “Where is the BOY?” All hell breaks loose. Anne is devastated. Anne is a melodramatic fantasist – she speaks in flowery language – she “acts” out her life … and yet, and yet … she is always completely real. She is precocious – but she is not obnoxious. She must be, at all times, completely and utterly sincere. Mark Twain sent a note through his secretary to LM Montgomery after the publication of Anne of Green Gables
Mr. Clemens directs me to thank you for your charming book and says I may quote to you from his letter to Francis Wilson about it: “In Anne of Green Gables, you will find the dearest and most moving and delightful child since the immortal Alice.”
It’s wild – I’m looking at my script right now – filled with my stage directions and emotional notes (“Always retreat from pain. Retreat from any painful situation”) scribbled in the margins. I was 19 years old. I feel very odd right now. Kind of melancholy. There are ghosts in this script.
From Anne of Green Gables: The Musical (French’s Musical Library)
[Enter Matthew and Anne. Matthew hesitates, takes a deep breath]
MATTHEW. You come right on in.
MARILLA. [upstairs] Matthew?
MATTHEW. Yes, Marilla.
[Marilla comes downstairs]
MARILLA. Why, Matthew Cuthbert!
MATTHEW. Yes.
MARILLA. Who’s that?
MATTHEW. Eh?
MARILLA. Where’s the boy?
MATTHEW. Oh well … well now, there wasn’t any boy. There was only … her.
MARILLA. There must have been a boy. We sent word to Mrs. Spencer to bring us a boy.
MATTHEW. Well, she didn’t. She brought her.
MARILLA. This is a pretty piece of business!
ANNE. [slamming down the suitcase] You don’t want me! You don’t want me because I’m not a boy! Oh, I might have known it! [Sits in a slump at the table]
MATTHEW. I got to water the mare. [Exits]
MARILLA. There, there, child, there’s no need to cry so!
ANNE. There is need! This is the most tragic thing that has ever happened to me!
MARILLA. Well, we’re not going to throw you out of doors, tonight at any rate. Now what’s your name?
ANNE. Would you please call me Cordelia?
MARILLA. Call you Cordelia? Is that your name?
ANNE. Well, no, it’s not exactly my name … actually it’s Anne. Anne Shirley, but whenver I’m in dire anguish, I’ve always imagined that my name is Cordelia. At least I always have of late years.
MARILLA. Fiddlesticks! If your name is Anne, that’s what you should be called. It’s a good plain sensible name, you’ve no need to be ashamed of it.
ANNE. Well, if you call me Anne, would you please call me Anne spelled with an “e”?
MARILLA. What difference does it make how it’s spelled?
ANNE. Oh, it looks so much nicer.
MARILLA. Very well, then, Anne with an “e”, can you tell me how this mistake came to be made? We sent word to Mrs. Spencer to bring us a boy. Were there no boys at the orphanage?
ANNE. Oh yes, an abundance. But I distinctly heard Mrs. Spencer say that you wanted a girl, and the matron said she thought I’d do.
MARILLA. A girl would be of no use to us! We want a boy to help Matthew on the farm. Take your hat off over there. And help me with the table; we’ll have supper.
ANNE. Oh, I couldn’t eat. I’m in the depths of despair. Can you eat when you’re in the depths of despair?
MARILLA. I don’t know. I’ve never been there so I can’t say.
MATTHEW. [entering] She’s tired, Marilla. Best put her to bed.
MARILLA. Very well, child, bring your bag and come with me.
MATTHEW. Good night.
ANNE. How can you say it’s a good night when you know it must be the very worst night I’ve ever had! My life is a perfect graveyard of broken hopes. [Follows Marilla upstairs]
MARILLA. What was that!
ANNE. That’s a sentence I read in a book once and I say it to myself whenever I’m disappointed in anything.
MARILLA. You can sleep in here.
ANNE. [flops on the bed and stares out the window] …. OOOOOOH!
MARILLA. Mercy, child, what’s the matter?
ANNE. A tree of your very own! Imagine!
MARILLA. It’s a big tree and it blooms great, but the cherries don’t amount to much. Small and wormy.
ANNE. Snow Queen.
MARILLA. What?
ANNE. I’ll call the tree Snow Queen, because it reminds me of the blinding vision of the White Way of Delight.
MARILLA. You’ve got a tongue in your head, that’s for certain. Now I want you to get undressed.
ANNE. I have my best underwear on. The matron said you never know when you might get cut up in a train wreck.
MARILLA. [looking in the suitcase] I suppose you have a nightgown?
ANNE. I have two.
MARILLA. They look kinda flimsy. You’d best wear both of them. After you’re undressed I want you to say your prayers.
ANNE. Oh, I never say any prayers.
MARILLA. Don’t you know who God is?
ANNE. The matron at the orphanage told me that God is the one who made my hair red and I’ve never cared about Him since.
MARILLA. I’m afraid you’re a very wicked little girl to talk this way. This is a Christian house and while you’re in it you’ll say your prayers. And when you’ve finished, I want you to blow out the candle. No, on second thought I’d best wait here ’til you’re done. You’re liable to set the house on fire.
ANNE. You may take the candle. After I’m in bed I’ll imagine out a nice prayer to say.
MARILLA. No, no, child. You must kneel by your bed to pray to your Maker.
ANNE. [kneels] I’m ready. What do I say?
MARILLA. Uh … ah … now I lay me down to sleep … You’d best talk to the Lord in your own words, child.
ANNE. [Her voice getting deeper in tone] I’ll do my best. “Gracious heavenly Father, infinite, eternal, and unchangeable …”
MARILLA. Mercy on us, what was that?
ANNE. That’s the way the minister who came to the orphanage used to do it.
MARILLA. Stop your chattering and get on with your prayers. And use your own words.
ANNE. My dear God … Oh, Miss Cuthbert, even though I’m not going to stay here at Green Gables, I think I could make a much nicer prayer if I imagined that I am.
MARILLA. Never mind your imaginings. Just thank Him humbly for the blessings He has given.
ANNE. That’s where I need my imagination!
Dear God,
Thank you for the White Way of Delight
and the Snow Queen.
I’m really extremely grateful for them.
And that’s all the blessings I can think of just now
to thank You for.
As for the things I want
it would take a great deal of time to mention them all,
so I’ll only name the two most important:
Please let me stay at Green Gables,
And please let me good-looking when I grow up.
I remain,
Yours respectfully,
Anne Shirley.
There, did I do it alright? I could have made it much more flowery if I’d had time to think it over!
MARILLA. Go to sleep now.
ANNE. Oh, I just thought. I should have said “Amen” in place of “yours respectfully”, the way the ministers do. Do you suppose it will make any difference?
MARILLA. I don’t suppose so. Now go to sleep. [Goes downstairs. Matthew is waiting in the rocking chair] This is what comes of sending someone instead of going ourselves. One of us will have to drive over to Mrs. Spencer’s tomorrow, that’s for certain. The child will have to go back to the orphanage.
MATTHEW. Yes, I suppose so.
MARILLA. You suppose so? Don’t you know it?
MATTHEW. Well, now, she’s a nice little thing, Marilla. It seems kind of a pity to send her back when she’s so set on staying.
MARILLA. Matthew Cuthbert! You don’t mean to say you think we ought to keep her! What good would she be to us?
MATTHEW. We might be some good to her.
MARILLA. I never heard of such a thing. She’ll have to be dispatched straightaway back to where she came from.
MATTHEW. Well now, I could maybe hire a boy to help me … and she’d be company for you. She’s a real interesting little thing.
MARILLA. I’m not suffering for company … I believe that child has you bewitched! I can see plain as plain that you want to keep her.
MATTHEW. You should have heard her talk coming from the station.
MARILLA. Oh, she can talk. I saw that straightaway. It’s nothing in her favor either. I don’t like children who have so much to say. I don’t want an orphan girl, and if I did she isn’t the style I’d pick out. We’re not going to keep her, so you might as well spare your breath to cool your porridge.
MATTHEW. Well now, it’s just as you say, of course, Marilla.
MARILLA. Where are you gadding off to? You haven’t touched a bite of your supper.
MATTHEW. I don’t suppose I’m hungry either. [Picks up lantern and exits]
MARILLA. How could Mrs. Spencer have made such a mistake?
I’ve always loved Matthew’s character. Well….maybe we could hire a boy – Anne’s company for you! And after being rebuffed, that fabulous gentle rebuke, “I don’t suppose I’m hungry, either.” Thanks for the excerpt.
Your post reminded me once again to be curious about whatever happened to that actress who played Anne in the miniseries. And then I remembered – now we have IMDB.
I’d forgotten that she was the goalie in that hockey thing (sort of a Quarterback Princess on Ice); never knew she’d played Juliet (at 25!). Pretty good resume, mostly on TV.
Nightfly – I have such a deep love for those Anne books that I was afraid to watch the miniseries at first – I was afraid they’d turn it too saccharine sweet – and miss how FUNNY the books are – and miss that the books are about TRUE sentiment – not sentimentality.
I have to say: I thought they did a phenomenal job. I LOVED the miniseries – and I thought Megan Follows was just perfect as Anne!! Great great job! I’ve watched it time and time again.
And I so agree with you – the Matthew character is just amazing. Shy, taciturn – but for whatever reason – this little chatty orphan girl opens up that forever-closed heart. He knows he just wants her around.
sniff sniff!!!
I’ll never forget my first experience of Anne Shirley singing in that wagon, heading home with (Chris Brayton). Seared into my soul.