Thursday, November 30, 2006

Act now

Prepare for my triumphant return to the stage.
You see, the curtain is about to be lifted on my moving performance as Jean Valjean in the Broadway production of “Les Miserables.”
Or I’m the dad in “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.” I get confused.
It all started a few months ago when my daughter decided she wanted to audition for a play. She was in a play last year and had a really good time doing it. When she mentioned wanting to do it again, I told her that would be a great idea, since she and her brother have until their teen years to financially support their parents. It doesn’t matter the career path you take, so why not try acting?
Tryouts were over two nights, and after the first night, Allie came home and asked me if I would try out for the play, too. “You could be the daddy!” she said excitedly. I explained to her that I would not be typecast, and that, thank you very much, I would try out for the role of the mother or perhaps a baby angel.
So fast forward to my getting the part of dad (Allie stole my baby angel role). I will be stepping on-stage for the first time in nearly 20 years, as my last performance was in 1989, in the Aiken Community Playhouse production of “A Merry Medieval Christmas.” The main thing I remember from that was that I played the part of God and got to sit atop a ladder and eat popcorn.
But I have not acted in years. Well, not actually acted. I was an extra on a television show when I lived in Orlando. But 20 hours sitting around in full alien makeup so that you can walk in front of Peter Deluise on “SeaQuest” does not an acting gig make.
For those of you not familiar with “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever,” it is the story of the Herdman family, the rough and tough bad kids of town, who take over the church Christmas pageant. It’s a great story and a great family play. It’s a huge cast, with nearly 40 people in it, most of them much, much shorter than I. I think it goes without saying that if you go see one play this year – check that, if you decide to venture out of your house just one time this year – go see this play. (Editor’s note: Not even putting a thin veil on that shameless plug, huh?)
At the first rehearsal I was really impressed with how well most of the kids knew their lines. I was sitting with a fellow actor, watching the kids sling their lines left and right. We looked at each other and gave an “Uh-oh, we REALLY need to be studying our lines more” exchange of glances.
On a few occasions, I would rehearse my lines at home with Allie. She doesn’t have a speaking part in the play, but certainly was eager to feed some lines to me. This was both good and bad. On the one hand, I had a good rehearsal buddy I could practice with. On the other hand, she apparently has a glue strip for a brain and has now memorized all of my lines, and, after each rehearsal, has a laundry list of where I missed a word here or a word there. She’ll turn to me and say, “Daddy, during the dinner scene, you said ‘two days.’ You’re supposed to say, ‘three days.’” This is from the little girl who can’t remember where she left her shoes. Don’t have room in your craw for where you keep the basic necessities in life, but plenty of space for my play lines? Yeah, that makes sense.
One of the things about memorizing lines that you learn quite quickly is that you don’t just memorize your lines. Kinda helps to know what lines yours come after. I know that seems like a no brainer, but there would be times during rehearsal where I would be sitting there thinking to myself, “OK, I know my line perfectly. Uh-oh, when do I say it?” Randomly blurting out a line for no reason is not only bad acting, it makes people think you might have a medical condition.
As opening night approaches, we are still working on our timing and costumes and props, etc. Each time we rehearse, the play gets a little more crisp and things come together a little more. I am sure by opening night we will be clicking on all cylinders, and it will go off without a hitch. There will be zero flubbed lines, no missed entrances and flawless prop transitions. It will be, quite frankly, “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.”
If it’s not, just pretend it was. You, too, can act.

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