I got called to do a reading of a play last night. The script was sent to me, I was told my part, and I just had to show up. It was a fun play – with tons of characters – and my part was a small one. I had 6 lines. I was a dumb French whore at the time of the storming of the Bastille. The play takes place on July 14, 1789. I am a dumb whore (literally – I’m not using the word “whore” as a judgment – like, that was my character’s profession) and my lines were like: “Duke de Tremouille, can I play with your sword?” etc. hahahahaha
There’s just something so funny and so SATISFYING about leading what I call the “double life”. I go about my day, I do my normal things, and then – on occasion – I have to go to a random venue and pretend to be someone else. I can think of nothing more satisfying. It just struck me last night as I hurried through the hot grimy streets to the Stella Adler Studio on 27th – the double-ness of it all, and how natural it seems, and has always seemed to me. As a matter of fact, I can’t imagine my life without that double-ness. I’m still like a little kid. You know how little kids must play their make-believe games for a good HOUR before they are ready to join polite society again? (Ahem. Cashel. He goes into his room, shuts the door, and you can hear random laser blasts and explosions … It’s his way of relaxing.) Anyway, I still have that need to play make-believe games. I’m actually really no good as a human being, and no good to polite society, if I DON’T, on occasion, get a chance to play make-believe. And it just seemed so funny: Yesterday I had my normal day. I did my normal adult Sheila things. Then I rushed to the studio, took my place with the rest of the actors – many of whom I knew – I also ran into the fight choreographer from my last show in the hallway there – so cool to see him, then we all sat down, took out our scripts, I pretended to be a dim-witted French whore for 45 minutes, and then I was done, and on my way home. hahahaha But it’s like working out. You know how you feel better after working out? That’s how I felt. I feel clearer, more open, more available. It doesn’t matter WHAT I am pretending to be … it’s just the mere act of accepting another world, another personality, and going with it.
Also it was pretty cool – I love the Stella Adler place because you walk in and there is a massive (I mean: MASSIVE) bust of Harold Clurman and over the reception desk are two HUGE oil paintings of Stella herself, back in her glory days. It’s just – the tradition of it. I love it.
And there were some moments last night – with some of the other actors – where I just felt in love with all of them. The HUMOR … especially this one guy – we were all sitting in chairs in a circle, and every time he said a line he was cutting straight to its comedic center. He was playing a total pretentious blowhard (one of the dudes whose heads would eventually roll in the French revolution) – but also with a deep core of anxiety in regards to his wife’s fidelity. He was INSANELY JEALOUS … and she seemed to give him good reason to be jealous. She was very funny, too. Being blase, and making tons of sexual innuendoes – in a bored voice – which of course drove her poor “husband” insane. But whatever – this actor, whoever he was, was so feckin’ FUNNY. Being completely pompous one minute, going off into his own private Idaho of poetic glory … and then hissing nervously at his wife about this or that indiscretion. I loved this guy. I just loved his commitment. We’re all holding scripts, and the whole thing is very casual – we’re all drinking coffee, sitting in a circle, no big deal – but he was funny, man. He was making us all GUFFAW. Again, I love it. My kind of crowd. Adults. FUNNY PEOPLE. Who love to randomly come to a random studio on a Wednesday evening and pretend to be other people.
Just another chance to play make-believe.
that sounds like an awesome evening!
Sweet. You put it very well, too. I’ve only been in front of an audience a couple of times (school stuff) and I get what you’re saying here.
“I was a dumb French whore at the time of the storming of the Bastille.”
Boy, does that give me ideas.
DBW..oddly enough..it gives me several ideas as well!
Okay, once again I must show my ignorance of the show business world…
Is there an audience at a “reading of a play”?
If not, is it just kind of like an actor party game or is there another purpose?
Sorry, for being so obtuse.
JFH..a play readingi s achance to try out new works without the cost of a full production..sometimes its so the author can actaully hear the thing from human voices..as opposed the crazy ones in his/her head…or achnce for a theater company to listen to a play that they may want to add to their season…a play reading can be totally informal..as in actors sitting in a circle of chairs and reading..or it can be more formal with some staging involved and an audience of people whose interests include literary works in progress..does this help at all?
How great is that double life!! I’ve been feeling the same way lately. Mild mannered chemist by day…living in Independence, Kansas at night.
One of my favorite parts of doing shows is exactly what you described..the read through. Meeting all those people, some are new and some old friends, and watching them try to figure everything out. Laughing and reacting to the play, a bare stage with no set, no lighting, usually a slight musty scent in the air(old theater smell as I call it)… just close your eyes and the imagination can just go nuts. What a great process!
What amazes me is when you happen to tell someone outside of the theater about your other life. “WOW, you do theater!! What play are you in, what part do you have?…etc.”
In my humble opinion, it’s the ability that theater has to help people escape, actors included, is what makes theater so amazing and desired.
Sorry for the rambling on and on…hope all is well.
Mitchell-
I have one thing to say.
And you know the courtesans will burn.
JFH –
In this case, there was no audience. The theatre company in question is considering putting up this play and so they wanted to hear it read.
Reading a play and hearing it are 2 very different things – I didn’t laugh out loud while reading the play, but I was continuously bursting into laughter last night listening to it.
listen babe..i have lived many lives…good night Mitchell!!!
hahahaha
Uhm … and on THAT note … I’m going to bed.
“i think the road has been really hard on him”…good night Sheila!!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
What – was I talking about his weight or something?
I was so insane. I didn’t even KNOW him.
But you know what? I WAS RIGHT!!!!
HELLO my friends!!
I miss you! I feel so out of the loop! I need to recommit myself to the blog so I can stay connected.
The thing I love most about readings is the relaxed atmosphere of it all. No one’s expecting spot on performances so everyone’s relaxed and, subsequently, can give spot on performances.
And if you’re funny, you’re my friend for life!
Another “good night” moment:
“Oh shit! I didn’t get to use my mattress ticking!”
“Oh that’s right. It was a nice twill weave.”
Long long silence. Then – HOWLS of laughter. As the dawn crept over the sky.
Which reminds me I still haven’t written about the Fabric Morgue – that is one of the essays that really MUST be written.
David!! I was just going to email you! Because I suddenly got a bolt of alarm that you no longer loved me or something.
I MISS YOU!!!
And I repeat: And you know the courtesans will burn.
i KNOW that David doesnt love me anymore! All his bitching and moaning over the years about my taking the love away from him was just a ruse, a smoke-screen..because he was just waiting to pull the love rug out from under my feet! Oh well…it was great fun, but it was just one of those things!
u must write the Fabric Morgue night down…Jackie demanding that we finish so she could cheat!!! Hilarious!
I love that we constantly threaten to withhold love – merely for the intense joy of re-affirming the love on an almost exhausting basis.
Yeah – I wrote the first part, about the “brown wool leg-wraps” … and I have to finish Part II!
“Where is the delivery boy with my fabric morgue?”
“It’s called: Where is your fabric morgue?”
“Outta sight outta mind, Joy.”
Man, you’ve got such balls, Mitchell!! Outta sight, outta mind, Joy????
even L. Morse didnt do her freakin Morgue!!!..yes the pseudo-withholding is all about releasing it later in a torrent!!
NONE OF US DID IT.
Like – we BLATANTLY did not do the project, en masse.
heh heh heh heh
did i say that?????? omg…im an ASSHOLE!!!..but um…remember this gem…”Back off Gordon!”
hahahahahahahaha
Yes. i haven’t got a leg to stand on.
//I love that we constantly threaten to withhold love – merely for the intense joy of re-affirming the love on an almost exhausting basis.//
hahahahahahahaha! That’s so true!
I went to catch up on my diary Fridays (I still have one more to go) and I come back to see that the love is gone.
My love for the two of you will always ooze in eternal directions!!
Oh, and Mitchell, I talked to Orin on the phone yesterday and we want to meet in Chicago sometime in August for my 40th. I’m both exhilarated and terrified of the thought of the 3 of us in Chicago.
ooze in eternal directions …
bwahahahahahahahaha
ya gotta make it dirty..dont ya??!!! Dave? huh?…hahaha..u and me and Orin..in Chicago..dangerous!!! soo freakin fun…btw i havent had a cigarette in 3 weeks and 3 days..dont get ur hopes up…i could run out and buy some at ANY second!!!
i believe “ooze in eternal directions” is actually a quote from my high school diary, which is even MORE bizarre.
Too late! My hopes are up. Stay strong. You can do this, one breath at a time. Very much in awe of anyone who kicks that habit.
And yes, “ooze in eternal directions” was from Sheila’s diary, but I ain’t above making our love dirty, I ain’t proud of it mind ya, but I ain’t above it neither.
u were a very descriptive 15 yr old!
that what i love about u! in fact if u think u and Orin are coming to MY town and not getting naked for my enjoyment..ur a sorry bastard!!!..see..how i made ur b-day celebration all about sex and ME???!!! I have learned well Yoda!
David – My dad says he sees your Tim Wakefield commercial all the time. I kept my eye open for it when I was back home but alas, it did not come on.
If you didn’t get us to get naked at my bachelor party in the woods, you missed your best shot.
They just called me yesterday to say they were renewwing the Deion Branch one as well. Yeeehaaa! I’m still hoping it turns into a sitcom, or at least a Reebok national campaign.
I can dream can’t I?
That guy (your character) should totally have his own sitcom. With an appropriate rolling-eyed wife. Just like Everybody Loves Raymond!!
“rolling-eyed wife” Hmmm. That sounds kind of scary. Like The Exorcist. What I meant to say is: the age-old cliche of the put-upon wife rolling her eyes at her infantile husband, a stereotype I find highly stooooopid, obviously – but I would support you in any endeavor along those lines.
Maria and I were LIVID!! about the wife of the Santos (Jimmy Smits) character in West Wing. We hated her and the creators of that character. All this “put upon” behavior. This whole, I can’t deal with all the bullshit of being the wife of the President. I mean give me a FECKING break. We were having visceral responses to this cliche.
I know how you feel about this. It was driving us insane.
David – omigod, you are so right on about the west wing!! Like – she’s shocked that secret service are gonna be camped out with her at all times? What the fuck was that woman’s problem? Is she fucking retarded? YOUR HUSBAND IS THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. Stop thinking so small and safe, you blonde bitchie!!
grrrrrrrr Horribly written character – you’re so right!!
i agree..i hated her too..hasn’t she been watching the West Wing all these years!!!..and 2/3 of you guys were naked at ur bachelor party!
I think, too, just the conception of the character was unimaginative.
“We have to set up the wife as an individual!! God forbid she just support her husband. That will be too weak! And how do we do set her up as separate from him? We give her tons of scenes where she rolls her eyes, and huffs and puffs, and we make her try to keep her husband SMALL!!”
There are women like that, obviously – little square-peg women who need their husbands to fit into a rigid little mold – but I’m sick of it being used as a cliche.
Go writers of Field of Dreams for so beautifully bucking that cliche!