I am so glad that I'm not an actress. You know, in real life. It is no surprise that many actresses are unhinged. It's crazy making!
You may or may not remember that about 18 months ago I auditioned for a part in a show and didn't get it. I wrote about it at length here...
http://raesblog.blog.co.uk/2006/08/30/next~1084141
(I know - I still don't know how to post a link without actually posting the link. I'm not the internet goddess you thought...)
Well...some months later the same part came up in another production of the show and I decided that this time I would attempt to nail the audition. So in a move of unprecedented committment I learned the song and the scene and went into battle again, determined not to let myself down this time. It went pretty well. I remembered all the words, my voice only cracked slightly once during the song and people laughed when I did the scene (it was meant to be funny). I left happy in the knowledge that I hadn't embarassed myself. Closure. Life goes on.
Except that this time I GOT THE BLOODY PART!!!!!!!!!
This just doesn't happen. I opened the letter which said something along the lines of "Dear Rae, we'd like to offer you the part of Tessa in our forthcoming production of The Gondoliers"...and I had to have a bit of a sit down. Then I had to text expletives to a couple of people. Then I stood up. Then I sat down again. Then I emailed the entire text of the letter to a friend to make sure that it was telling me what I thought it was telling me. She verfified that it was. Then I stood up again. Then I arranged to meet another friend for coffee to get her to read the letter to make sure it was telling me what I thought it was telling me. She verified that it was. Then I felt a bit sick.
Now that all happened in June - and I've been feeling a bit sick ever since. It is now 9 weeks till the show and I've just about got the rising gorge under control (today) so I thought I'd write a little bit about The Gondoliers second time around.
My introduction there makes it sound a bit like I've been picked from the streets to take centre stage, which isn't true. I have had principal roles before, but usually ones that involve being old, or shouting, with one comedy song and a scene and a half if I'm lucky. I usually audition for the old lady/comedy/shouty parts because I'm built to be a sidekick rather than a romantic lead and so I know these are the parts I'm more likely to get. Tessa is a romantic lead! It's mental I get a guy within the first 15 minutes of the show. It's also the first time I've been anything other than back row of the chorus in a grown up Am Dram society. It's a whole new and different experience!
From the first rehearsal everyone has been really lovely to me. Which is just weird. Most Am Dram Societies are riven with cliques and gossip and it's hard to get a toe hold when you're new. The exceptional reception must be down to what I've come to think of as "the principal effect" (and this is where the crazy sets in). Obvioulsy (paranoia, paranoia) I start thinking that the only reason anyone is being nice is because I'm a principal and they have to be. It couldn't be anything to do with them just being nice people welcoming a newcomer into the fold. I've been round this block before, I know how it works. Through some computer glitch I've ended up with the most desirable female role in the show and now everyone is waiting to see how badly I mess up the first rehearsal so they can whisper to each other that "she's been hopelessly miscast and who does she think she is anyway, waltzing in here wanting to be friends as though she owns the place". Obviously, with all this going on in my unravelling brain I mess up the song the first time through. Cue the spiralling despair that makes me read significant glances from the musical director as disappointment and regret at giving me the part.
This is hard going on my mental stability already and I've only been in the door 10 minutes!
The next new and exciting challenge in being a romantic lead is the romance. With Gilbert & Sullivan societies the main thing you can hope for in this situation is that your partner will have at least some of his own teeth. I had spent the summer trying to work out who was going to be playing Guiseppe (my on stage love interest) because the letter you get post auditions just tells you who you are, not the rest of the cast and my society mole helpfully couldn't remember. I pictured a gentleman of advancing years in a badly fitting toupee with a small crust or dried spittle at the corner of his mouth. Imagine my relief to discover that not only was my on stage husband to be a year younger than me, but he was someone I went to school with. And no spittle! What a result. The downside of getting "romantic" with someone that you sort of already know but haven't seen for years is that it's really quite embarassing. Being from the uptight east coast of Scotland I barely hug my family and friends, let alone people I last had a conversation with in 1992. Making matters worse, his dad was my Guidance Teacher and now here I am pawing my respected teacher's son in front of potentially hundreds of people!
On a side issue (I don't know how to do footnotes either), the worst part of being a "luvvie" is all the cheek kissing it involves. I never know whether lips are actually supposed to make contact with cheek or if it's more of an ear rubbing exercise. And how do you know if it's going to be a one cheek or double cheek kiss? Is there a secret smile or winking signal that tells you? I invariably miss and slober on a sideburn and go in for the double when the person I'm greeting has moved on to someone else, or gone to the bar. What's wrong with a good firm handshake? You know where you are with one of those.
Anyway...back to rehearsals. My aim has been to know the music and words really well before even getting to rehearsal, just to give me a bit less to worry about. The trouble is that I'm terrible at learning lines. And there are millions of them! Living on my own I don't have anyone to read through with me as I learn so I have taken to writing them over and over and over in a specially purchased orange notebook. For months I've been sitting on the bus like Jack Nicholson in The Shining copying "When a merry maiden marries, all work and no play makes jack a dull boy" (or something) over and over and over. It's lucky nobody else has seen my book of obsessive compulsion or I'd have been carted off to the psychiatric ward some months ago. Yet, it doesn't matter how well I think I know the words, as soon as I'm faced by a roomful of fellow cast members who have known all the lines since 1952 I draw a complete blank. Can you imagine what that's going to be like in front of an audience? It's torture!
The audience. Oh yes. That's the next thing. It's all fun and games larking around twice a week in a church hall...but in the middle of March we will be taking the stage of a real live theatre. One that is normally tramped by proper actors. One that seats 1300 people a night. AAAAAARRRGGGHHHHNNNNGGGGGGG. I feel sick again. This being a principal is excellent for weight loss!
I tell you what though... I may be unspooling at an alarming rate, and thinking that everyone is talking about me behind my back, and having nightmares about being on stage in a show that I haven't rehearsed, and having diva strops with the director for calling me Rachel (that was perhaps inadvisable behaviour), but I'm having the absolute time of my life! I will never get an opportunity for showing off like this again in my life...I'm just terrified that I waste it.
The craziest thing of all is that while I am currently all consumed by this show it is of extremely little consequence to literally almost everyone else in the world. If I fall over, or forget a line, or my voice goes wibble when it should wobble it doesn't matter to anybody else apart from me.
And the other woman who thinks she should have been Tessa...yikes! Excuse me while I have a sit down.
