HOW DO YOU GET A TREE INTO A VAN? – PART 14


 HOW DO YOU GET A TREE INTO A VAN? – PART 14

The island is fully embracing the Christmas spirit now, with everyone preparing for the holiday. Everywhere you look, there are little reminders of the season—locals wearing Santa hats, mistletoe hung up in doorways, and the general atmosphere of ease that comes with the approach of the holidays. The cast is starting to relax too, feeling the light at the end of the tunnel as the end of our contract draws near.

But, of course, nothing is ever that simple. Allegedly, the run-throughs didn’t go as smoothly as we had hoped, and the company has decided that we need more rehearsal time. Our initial contracts were only for three months, but now the company feels the shows are still not ready for prime time. So, the plan is to change many of the numbers we’ve spent months learning.

To make this happen, the company adds another rehearsal space just up the road from our condos, at the banquet hall of another hotel. It’s clear from the moment we step inside that the place’s original name was probably “The Flea Hop Inn.” It’s... not exactly glamorous. We’re asked to move tables out of the way before we can start rehearsal, and the space feels cramped and far from ideal. Today, we begin with sword fighting, which should be straightforward, but of course, it’s not. Our fight director has a clear vision of how things should go, but it’s impossible to follow with the director and choreographer constantly changing their minds. We’ve barely gotten anything settled before they shift their plans again.

In the middle of a fight sequence, the choreographer suddenly decides he wants to add a big dance number. He leaps up, sword in hand, twirling around us. “Can you believe I’ve never had a lesson?” he asks as we scramble to avoid being whacked with his sword. His improvisation skills are questionable at best.

Meanwhile, the main stage at the casino is still the go-to spot for running the larger dance numbers, but now, with the new additional space, we find ourselves constantly running back and forth between the two venues. It’s exhausting, and things only seem to get more chaotic.

Then, we learn of a new “dilemma.” The company has decided that the incredible voices of our cast aren’t enough. They’re adding pre-recorded voices on a click track to “sweeten” the sound. Naturally, this throws the cast into another round of turmoil. We’re already exhausted and feeling beaten down by the process, and this just adds to the frustration.

The Director approaches one of the African American female cast members during a performance of one of the songs. She’s belting it out like she’s in church, putting everything she has into it. The Director watches for a moment, then asks her, “Can’t you be more ethnic?” He goes on to demonstrate what he means by doing a terrible imitation of what “being more ethnic” apparently looks like, as if he’s performing in some kind of minstrel show. It’s bizarre and uncomfortable.

During the dance break of the same number, the choreographer decides to add another stroke of genius to the mix. “I was watching a church revival on TV the other night,” he says. “Can’t you jump around like that?” He proceeds to demonstrate by jumping around in a manner that can only be described as "inspired by a fire drill." It’s absurd.

Through it all, there’s no end in sight. But at least the holiday spirit is still alive, albeit in unexpected forms. Our Stage Manager steals a fully decorated Christmas tree from the hotel and stuffs it into his minivan. “Tis the season,” he says with a grin, as if this somehow makes everything better.

We begin decorating for our own island Christmas party. The heat is still relentless, but we dig out our winter wear from our suitcases—reindeer sweaters, scarves, and hats. We deck out our condos with Christmas lights, tinsel, and eggnog. It’s a festive scene, even if it doesn’t quite feel like the holidays we’re used to back home.

At the party, we read a poem entitled The 12 Days of the Company, each verse a humorous recount of all we’ve been through together. It’s a moment of catharsis, as we reflect on the madness of the past few months. We finish the evening by singing carols, voices cracking with emotion. We’ve been through so much together, and despite the emotional and physical toll, there’s still so much love between us.

After the party, I stumble back to my condo, exhausted. I curl up in bed, my mind still reeling from the chaos of the day, and finally pass out. The night’s rest feels like a hard-earned reprieve from the madness we’ve been living in.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Letter of introduction written in 1997/ The Letter

Image
  Dear Friends, It’s taken me quite a while to sit down and write this. Recently, I received an email from someone who had a terrible experience in the theatre world, and it stirred something in me. After much reflection, I’ve decided to share a story of my own. It’s not easy to tell—and perhaps, by doing so, I’m committing a kind of theatre suicide—but here it goes. This journey began over a year ago, with an audition for what was described as an exciting new project from an established company. I won’t name the company directly—though by the end, you may be able to guess. I auditioned alongside about 100 other hopefuls. We danced, sang, and were slowly whittled down through cut after cut. My photo was taken with a Polaroid, and I was even measured for costumes. Then came the words every performer longs to hear: “You got the job.” I was given a start date and told to be ready. Six months passed. Nothing. Not a word. The start date came and went. I found myself shouting at the TV e...
Read more

Chapter 1: Pandora’s Box — Part 2

Image
  Chapter 1: Pandora’s Box — Part 2 This audition was for what I like to call   the Company . The name alone gave me pause. Could I really do it again? Could I swallow my pride, ignore the ghosts of the past, and go back for another round? My brain wasn’t sure, but my bank account was screaming yes. There weren’t many listings in   Backstage   that week, and this one did boast a new show with music by a known Broadway composer. On paper, it sounded promising. But in my gut, all I could feel was the heavy memory of how things had gone the last time I worked for them. Was it really as bad as I remembered? Maybe I’d exaggerated it over time. I mean, I   did   make friends, and I   did   love the weather and the apartment we were crammed into. Had I let the frustration of crappy treatment erase all of that? Had I thrown out the baby with the bathwater? My head was spinning. I sat down on someone’s stoop and lit a cigarette, watching the smoke curl abo...
Read more

Chapter 1: Pandora’s Box — Part 5

Image
  Chapter 1: Pandora’s Box — Part 5 I read from the script—and I land a laugh. Not a polite chuckle, but an honest-to-God belly laugh from the table. “That was great,” the director says, still laughing, eyes twinkling behind his thick lenses. Then, once again, I’m sent back out to the hallway to wait. When I’m called in again, they take a Polaroid of me and jot down my measurements. No fanfare, just tape measure, flash, clipboard. Then I'm dismissed. Two days pass. I come home to find the light blinking on my answering machine. My heart does a little flip. I press play. It’s Casting. Offering me the job. I scream. I scoop up one of the cats and spin around the room, both of us dizzy and thrilled. “Soon you’ll be able to eat!” I promise her. (In truth, my animals always ate before I did. But still—victory.) Casting tells me a contract is on the way via FedEx. I go to my crappy day job and give notice, grand and theatrical. “So long, suckers!” I shout on my way out. “See you in three...
Read more