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Monday, 21 November 2011

Do You Like Musicals?

Do you like musicals? Well, there's a euphemistic question if ever I heard one! Just for a change, though, I'm not going to write about sexuality and social expectations, I really am going to write about musicals. One musical, anyway.

Do I like musicals? No, not really. I love some musicals (yes, you can read that as a euphemism if you want to) such as Rocky Horror, Hair and Cabaret, but most of them just irritate me. I find them schmaltzy, emotionally manipulative and about as subtle as a mallet to the head. The very thought of watching Glee gives me toothache.

I've recently been in a musical and, if you'll forgive the pun, I'm beginning to change my tune ...

Before people start yelling hypocrite! and throwing things, I think maybe a little explanation is in order.
In the summer I joined my local AmDram, Whitefield Amateur Operatics and Dramatics Society, thankfully shortened to WAODS (and which I take a certain childish pleasure in pronouncing as "way odds"). They had already been amazingly nice and allowed me to practise my audition skills the year before, despite the fact that I was over-commited and couldn't do the play. This time they were staging Hobson's Choice (Harold Brighouse) which sounded like great fun. So, I went for it.
They were kind enough to offer me the part of Dr. MacFarlane. This was perfect. It's only a small part (10 minutes out of the whole play) but he's a strong and distinctive character, which gave me something to really get my teeth into without too much pressure. It also allowed me to be in a proper play, on a proper stage in a proper theatre - something, despite all my other types of performance, I hadn't done since I was 12! I didn't know if I could still do it.
I flatter myself that I made a pretty good job of it, all things considered.

Then I heard about the showcase.
WAODS were going to do some pieces from the new Addams Family musical. I love the Addams Family (My friend, Becca said, "You are the Addams Family!"). It meant stepping right outside my comfort zone but, frankly, life's too bloody short to waste such an opportunity. For those who wonder what the hell could possibly be outside my comfort zone, the answer is singing and dancing. Yes, I can sing a bit, folk songs around a camp fire and so on but ensemble singing where you're supposed to actually be in tune was entirely new to me. The same goes for the dancing. People who know me well will say, "But, you bloody love dancing!", which is true, but proper dancing with real, actual steps in time with other people is a world away from the ridiculous, manic thrashing about I do on a nightclub's dance floor.

Unfortunately it didn't happen. The miserable bastards who own the rights got all sniffy about it and wouldn't let us go on. So, I thought that would be it for me until next year's play. WAODS were doing the musical version of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women, and I wasn't particularly bothered. It's not a story that's ever appealed to me, nor is it an historical period I've any real interest in.
Not long after they'd started rehearsing, the producer, Nick, made a shout out on Facebook for more men in the chorus. The thing is, I like Nick. Maybe if I didn't like Nick I wouldn't have cared, but I do and so I did, and I thought, "What the hell! If nothing else, it's all valuable experience even if it's crap. How hard can it be?" Famous last words!

Rehearsals started off fairly well because were were told to be trolls, the sort that live under bridges. Awesome! Physical theatre. Bring it on! (Aside for anyone who doesn't know: Little Women features Jo March telling melodramatic stories which are illustrated by being enacted in a kind of fantasy world behind her) The song was tricky, partly because I'm not used to harmony parts but mostly because the top note was a whole tone above my range. I cheated and if Steven, our Musical Director, noticed he was considerate enough of my weakness to say nothing. I was okay with trolling it up and thinking that's all I had to do - even though it involved two of us carrying an astonishingly brave actress on our shoulders - until our choreographer, Shirley, mentioned the waltz. Waltz? Oshit!
As weird as it may sound, I find simple, repetitive patterns really hard to do. This is why I'm a much better folk musician than rocker. I can play a long melody with some confidence, but a two-bar riff gets me all confused after the third time round. In waltzing you effectively play that riff with your feet!
Fortunately Shirley gave us a short dance based on the waltz, rather than an actual waltz. It was more like a formal set-dance in 3/4 time, but that doesn't mean it was much easier. It is almost certainly the most terrifying thing I've ever done on a stage, and I never got all the steps right even once.
There was another dance too. This time it was based on ice skating and a bit easier than the waltz, although that doesn't mean it was actually easy. I think I got it to a relatively satisfactory degree by the final night and I'm proud to say that I didn't drop my dancing partner, Helen, at all. Nearly, but nearly doesn't count!
There were a couple more bits and bobs, but they were straightforward and very short walk-on, ad-lib parts. In comparison to the waltz, they were a doddle!

That's just what I did, though and, compared to the principles, I hardly did anything at all. What about the show itself?

Nick, fairly quickly, had us doing whole-show run-throughs at rehearsal. I reckon that was wise. It gave us (well, me certainly) a feel for the story and a chance to understand and engage with the characters - to care about the whole thing rather than just our bits. It also gave me the chance to appreciate just how much work and talent goes into a production like this, and believe me, that's a lot!
There are some remarkable actors, singers and dancers at WAODS and they don't give, or expect half measures. They're also really, really nice people! I should mention this because I'm a) the new boy and b) the only Pagan. Many of the members are Swedenborgian Christians who attend the church in whose hall the rehearsals are held. I am an uncomfortable misfit in non-Pagan company (I don't know the social protocols like "should I hug this person?" etc) but I've been treated like an old friend.
The sheer, demanding professionalism of the principles is something I'm proud to have seen. Remember that these are amateurs, doing this for fun. I noticed that our actors would push themselves a whole lot harder than they were directed to. This doesn't mean that rehearsals weren't fun though, I spent as much time laughing as acting, but it's the perfectionism that really made it.

As show week hit I could feel the tension building up. Not aggressive tension, "When will I fuck it up?" tension. That's how I felt and in many ways I was quite glad of the distraction of helping out a little backstage. But, I did very little, on the whole. I can only imagine how the principles felt. There is a song called Some Things Are Meant To Be, a duet between two characters one of whom is going to die and the other who knows it. It's a powerful, heart-wrenching weepie and it worked on me, who hates being emotionally manipulated, (although a different song got me personally rather more). In order to sing that song well the actresses had to feel it, really feel it. They tore themselves to tiny emotional bits in front of an audience every night for nearly a week, and then carried on singing and acting. By the end of the week they could barely even mention the scene without collapsing into floods, and yet they still went on!
How much respect is it possible to feel? I don't know, but when I find out I'll tell you.

I'm welling up myself here just thinking about it.

One thing that struck me was how many people said they were amazed it was an amateur production. It wasn't. It was a professional production without money.

The show's all done and dusted now. It was one hell of an emotional roller-coaster experience. I've been through the adrenalin crash catharsis, the getting horribly drunk, the weeping like a little girl and the hangover that lasts all sodding day. So what am I left with?
Valuable theatrical experience, certainly, but a lot more than that. Feeling proud to say I'm a member of WAODS for a start, and a feeling of being privileged to have witnessed such talented people do what they do best. The ability to say, "I was there". I've also got this huge, protective Walt Whitman style feeling of love for (when I really think about it) a bunch of people I hardly know.

What's next? Well, WAODS are doing Little Shop of Horrors next. I'm awfully tempted but I've got 18 weeks of acting classes booked with 3 Minute Theatre and I think I need to concentrate on that. After that, though, there's Noël Coward's Blithe Spirit, and just you try to keep me away!

Do I like musicals now? Hmm, tricky question. Let's say I'm a lot more open to their possibilities (which I don't think is a euphemism). I still couldn't face the idea of watching Glee though, at least not without a visit to the dentist straight afterwards.

Love and thespianism,
Seán