We finally OPENED!! It’s been a long haul. And now here it is. We had a packed house … and it was incredible to have … you know … PEOPLE THERE to see what we have all been working on so hard. The first time I said something that got a laugh, I felt a thrill quite unlike any other … I’ve felt it before … I truly don’t think there is anything like that sound when you know that it’s because of YOU … I can see why people devote their entire lives to making people laugh … but anyway, the first time I heard a laugh, I got so excited that I felt on the verge of becoming what is known as a “laugh whore” … It happens sometimes early on in the run. You’ve been working in isolation. It’s lonely. You feel insecure. You wonder if you’re any good. Then you get your first laugh, and suddenly – all the work you’ve done goes OUT THE WINDOW and ALL YOU CARE ABOUT is making people LAUGH LIKE THAT AGAIN. I felt a laugh-whore impulse within me – that very human Sally Fields response of: “You like me!!” – and then I took a breath, let it go, and kept going on with what I was doing … It’s amazing, though, what the sound of laughter can do to an actor. It’s visceral. You MUST hear that sound again. It takes a lot of focus to not just go for the laughs (I mean, if you’re not Robin Williams – and you’re trying to do an actual role where it’s not always appropriate to get laughs.)
Here are some snapshots of the evening:
— the full-length mirror in my dressing room was designed by Satan himself. I find my reflection in it so upsettingly fat that I took a piece of black drop-cloth that I found backstage and draped it over the entire mirror. I use the full-length mirror in the boys’ dressing room to check out my total look. Problem solved. So there, Satain!
— at the party we had in the lobby after the show, I found myself talking to a guy I’ve met before who is a poet. We drank champagne. Within 30 seconds of speaking with him (I am not kidding: 30 seconds) I said the following words: “I don’t care what the Plath freaks say: Ted Hughes is an amazing fucking poet.” And even though I’m an asshole, he overwhelmingly agreed with me.
— my parents were there. HEART CRACK. During one of my monologues – where I am facing out front – I caught a glimpse of my father’s glasses glimmering through the darkness. What I felt in that moment was indescribable.
— Mr. Lion came!! I was so touched! He said he would come opening night – and he did. Thank you, Lion!! Day-um – his review is already up. You are a true gentleman, sir.
— We had a run-thru this afternoon. Yup. Before our opening. What can I say – tech week has been NUTS. In the hour we had in between shows, I raced to the gym, galloped upon the treadmill for a feverish 20 minutes, did an insanely rushed steam room where I could not keep my mind from racing even though I tried to relax in my nude steamy glory, and then hurried back to the theatre for my call time. This is the beauty of doing a show in Times Square. It’s CONVENIENT. My gym is everywhere in New York – but there are about 3 of them in the Times Square district alone.
— Speaking of how I have no time, I have now convinced myself that pretzels are one of the five major food groups.
— The sound people, the lighting people – all our technical team – are absolutely extraordinary. And that’s all I can really say. What they have created, for a limited off-Broadway run, with minimal equipment is nothing less than miraculous. There’s also half a car onstage. And it has to be a car that is semi-functional – people get in and out of it, they hang out in it, they slam doors, they have fights and are rammed up against the car – and because of an amazing guy who works in a junkyard in Brooklyn, we have our car. This guy was unbelievable. He built us a friggin’ CAR. He hauled it into Manhattan, in parts, and built it on the stage – and it is just PERFECT.
— One example of how amazing our team is: I have to come out and sit down at a desk where a bunch of things are already set: a tea kettle, tea cup, saucer, crackers … Our wonderful assistant stage manager who is in charge of pre-setting all the props – has been putting all of the stuff on the table in a very logical way – tea kettle with handle towards me, so that it’s convenient, tea cup with tea bag perfectly placed … etc. But … I just knew I needed them to be set a little bit MESSILY. Because I (the character) had not put them there myself – I am not in my home where I can have things just as I want them – I have come into an unfamiliar setting and the tea things have been set up FOR me by someone who thinks I’m a bit loony, and doesn’t really care about me. So if HE was setting up all that stuff, he would place everything any which way … to show how much he didn’t care about me and my stupid demands. I felt a bit awkward but I approached her after the run-thru this afternoon and said, “I know this is really anal … but can we discuss how everything is set on the table?” She immediately took her pencil in her hand. I’m telling you: IMMEDIATELY. “Yes. What do you need?” So I blunderingly explained to her the concept: “If you could set things up a bit MESSIER so that I then have to neaten things up … that would be so helpful. If you could set the tea kettle so the handle is facing AWAY from me … and if you could put the tea cup just out of my reach, and maybe turn it upside down … that would be great …” All of this may sound silly to a layman’s ears, but that’s just it: to a layman it WOULD sound silly. But we’re in the business of art here. We’re trying to create some kind of illusion of reality FOR the layman. And so to the assistant stage manager, it sounded like just another task on her long list. So I come into the theatre tonight at my call-time, and I go around and check my props (I have to do that – it’s relaxing to know that everything is there for me) … and I go to the desk onstage, and I see that the tea kettle has been set with the handle away from me, and the tea cup is placed at the far corner of the table, and the tea cup is upside down … I cannot even tell you how much these small seemingly trivial details end up adding to the performance. They don’t just HELP. They are INTEGRAL to what I am trying to do. It helps establish my character if – the first time you see her – she is rearranging the tea things how SHE wants them to be. THAT’S the kind of technical team you want to have working with you as actors. Who don’t treat a request like mine as some diva weirdness – but as PART of creating this show. It’s beautiful.
— I enjoyed nothing more than standing out in the lobby afterwards with my parents, chatting about the show. It made me so happy that I am just HIGH right now.
— A fellow actor and I commiserated over champagne about how we get to sleep in tomorrow. We have a matinee but nothing beforehand. Now we can settle in to the run. He said, “I get to go home … have a shot of scotch … and a Vicodin … and go to SLEEP.”
Uhm … please don’t OD and miss your call time. No, just kidding.
It’s been a long haul. But now we are finally here. The show is what it is, it is now up and running, and now – maybe – we can enjoy it.
I actually wrote half of that walking to the subway on my Treo, too. Perhaps the first ever theatrical liveblogging. ;)
Awesome show. Have fun with the rest of ’em!
How absolutely thrilling to read this, Red. I’m so excited for you – just happy as a clam that all your hard work has come to fruition.
cupcake –
ahhhhh!!! I’ll see you next saturday and I cannot wait!
yOU’VE DONE THE MIRACULOUS! You’ve survived opening night. Go You!!!!!
I’m so very proud of you, sweetie! I can’t tell you! I loved that your parents were there, and I love you ASM. Brilliant! You’re not annal, you’re a smart actor that cares about your craft and your time and how you spend it. That’s not annal. That’s part of being an actor. People who AREN’T that particular, are missinbg everything. And they bore me as an audience member because I can spot bullshit on the next corner. CARE about EVERYthing, or do something else with your life. Don’t waste my time.
Amazing night. Congratulations Sheila!!!!!!
:-)
I really want to have a road trip! I think one of the things I want to see the most is the car. I bet it’s sooooo much better than a mo-ped. (hahahahahahaha)
anyway…I’m so excited for you~Congratulations!!!
mere – i’m still mad about that moped.
Grease Lightning is NOT a moped!
Hey- you guys beat me to the punch! I was going to mention the moped zooming up the ramp onto the plywood apron! Mere (and Bets) when will work for you??? I am at your beck and call. Let’s go!!!!!!!!!! PS Somehow the image of us all squeezed into Sheila’s main room with all the blowup mattresses brings to mind those carnival “bounce” contraptions. I love it. Grown women in a bounce, balancing glasses of wine and cups of coffee…
beth –
hahahahaha I love that!
And this time, when you come down, I won’t have cankles! So exciting.
I ask you:
How can a MOPED be a “real pussy wagon”? The whole POINT of Greased Lightning is that YOU CAN HAVE SEX IN THE BACK SEAT. HOW CAN A MOPED HELP YOU HAVE PREMARITAL SEX???
I have so many cimments about that stupid moped. STILL.
Congratulations!!!
I am very jealous of Mr. Lion. It seems like it was a great show and I am very happy that everything has gone well.
Sounds great.
After reading everything you’ve posted, it makes me wish I was in the area to check it out.
Congrats.
cullen-
Yeah, it was so cool to have Mr. Lion there. I’ll say this – and it’s an observation I feel free to make after having met many bloggers in person: Bloggers seem to have integrity, as a group, as a community. When bloggers say “let’s meet at 6 for a drink” – everyone is there at 6 on the dot. Bloggers seem to DO what they SAY they’re gonna do. Lion said 2 or 3 weeks ago: “I’ll be there opening night” – and … there he was.
Pretty damn cool.
Woo Hoo! How exciting to be OPEN and RUNNING! What a fantastic experience it must be. Congratulations, Sheila! I’m so happy for you!
stevie –
Thanks!
wish you could come see me in action as the type-A hippie psychic. hahahahaha I gave you ONE IMAGE of my costume and you were off and running … I love that!
WAY TO GO, SHEILA!!! I wish I could have been there. Sounds like a great evening.
Wishing you a warm hand on your opening. . . .
xo,
K
Sunday at CrabAppleLane – Garden State
We watched Garden State the other night and I meant to say something about it. This movie starts very slowly. Truth be told, the whole movie is a bit slow and really takes its time getting where its going. Normally, I would have turned this movie off s…
Congratulations, Red. Wish I could have been there. Hope its a good run for you.
Fantasitc! Knock ’em dead!
Oh, well done, you! Wish I could be there!
Late to the party.. but joining with the CONGRATULATIONS!.. and the wishing I could be there..
and.. of course Ted Hughes is an amazing fucking poet!
I am unfamiliar with Ted Hughes work, but I must ask, is he an amazing fucking poet, or a fucking amazing poet? Or am I missing something by not being familiar with his work? I ask ’cause, you know, I like the mix of your modifier.
Ted Hughes. Amazing fucking poet. Married to Sylvia Plath. Scorned and hated by Plath fans who blame him for her suicide. He was poet laureate in England. His work is visceral, important – he’s one of the greats. He just died.
See, you need to marry a writer who will become famous after their death and then I can argue with the people at the retirement home:
“Yeah, XXX XXXXX was a great writer, but Sheila O’Malley was an amazing fucking writer.”
Editorial Note: As soon as I see you act, I’m sure I can substitute “actor” for “writer” in the above commentary (of course, I would substitute “an” for “a” in my articles just to make sure that the nurses don’t disregard my opinion because I can’t form a proper article/noun coupling)… Then, again, maybe you suck as an actor (though I’d bet my 401K that you probably as good as an actor as you are a writer)
Congratulations, Sheila!
Congratulations on a successful opening night. I like what you wrote about the props on the desk and how that works, I think you’re right. It’s one of those things that I likely wouldn’t be cognizant of if I was in the audience, but it’s absence would be felt, if not understood. If that makes sense.
Dave E – it TOTALLY makes sense.
sounds wonderful – it’s great reading you when you are so thrilled — very happy for you Red – continued success to you! is it a long run?
Congratulations on your opening – I wish it were still playing in March when I’ll be in NYC and could see it.
Congrats!
Congarts – or let’s make that – Congrats!!! I wish I could come see your play.
Sheila — I’m so sorry these CONGRATULATIONS are late!
(I’m out of commission, but I just HAD to steal a moment to stop by.)
I’m SO proud of you — if that doesn’t sound condescending. I just understand on some level the BIG FAT SCOPE of what you’ve accomplished here — and what you’ll continue to accomplish each night of the run! YOU must be proud of you so I figure I can be, too, damnit ;-)!!!!
YAAAAAYYYY, SHEILA!!!!!