Well, That's Over...Now What?

Well, The Heiress at Kirkwood Theatre Guild has opened and closed without a hitch and the audience loved it. Okay, that's a bit of a lie - little things and "oops" happened here and there but what show doesn't have those? The lantern that I used all through tech week ended up breaking on opening night so that was annoying and the base of the stairwell was made of plaster so it couldn't be drilled into the set or else it would crumble. Unfortunately, none of us thought to tie it down and the male lead hit it on opening night so that it almost crashed onto the floor and I knocked it on the second night. I heard it wobbling behind me and the audience was giggling so I put my hand out behind me to steady it as I went on with my lines. The thought of milking it came to mind but I thought better of it and carried on.

 My cast/crew family of The Heiress

So, I ended up getting through it after months of putting myself down and feeling like I just didn't "have" my character. I must say, I'm a little depressed actually. The show really started growing on me by opening night. Of course, it could be due to this:

Money can't buy love 

Written by: Bob Wilcox

"Any young woman who takes on the role of Catherine Sloper deserves credit simply for being willing to do it. Catherine is the central character in The Heiress, Ruth and Augustus Goetz's dramatization of Henry James's novella Washington Square. She is regularly described, especially by her father, as plain and painfully shy.

Sara Strawhun makes herself all of that as Catherine in the Kirkwood Theatre Guild production of the play, though I would guess, from her lively appearance in the curtain call, that Strawhun is actually a quite attractive young woman. But as Catherine, she wears geeky glasses (if that term may be applied to 1850), her eyebrows appear to have been thickened, and she can barely raise her eyes and speak to anyone outside the immediate family.

The playwrights do give her a moment with her shallow aunt – Deborah Dennert finds every morsel of fun in this character – when she delightfully structures her account of an amusing incident in her day. But when she attempts to tell it to her father, of whom she is not just wary but nearly terrified, she loses the wit in her telling, and it falls flat. As does just about everything she says.

Catherine does, eventually, find the courage to tell her father what she thinks of him and of the miserable life she has. It's probably more melodramatic than anything in Henry James (I confess I haven't read his piece), but it's dramatically satisfying, though on the level that the play, unfortunately, holds to throughout.

Richard Hunsaker tries to introduce some lovable moments into his portrait of the father, but he's stuck playing a very unpleasant individual, and the result is that he comes off most of the time as a well-done caricature and very close to the villain of a melodrama.

The other villain in The Heiress is Morris Townsend. Jake Bantel is as handsome as Morris must be and as smooth and pleasant – so much so that you almost wish he weren't a fortune-hunter and really did want to make Catherine happy.

Morris finds his way into the Sloper household by way of a cousin, played by JD Wade, who is marrying Catherine's cousin, played by Jessica Lyle. She is the daughter of another sister of the doctor, a firm and sensible matron in Jan Niehoff's performance. Betsy Gasoske shrewdly handles her brief turn as Morris's sister, called in as a not-entirely-satisfactory character witness for the young man.

Answering the door, bringing the sherry, generally keeping the household running is Elizabeth Graveman as the maid. On the basis of her four performances that I've seen, I can say that she brightens any production she graces, and I eagerly look forward to one that gives her a leading role.

Well-crafted, realistic sets are the rule at the Kirkwood Theatre Guild, so I was surprised to see Jan Meyer and Gary Sibbitts' set for The Heiress surrounded by black drapes. But with large set pieces – windows, a fireplace, a grandfather's clock, a stairway – placed within the drapes, it worked beautifully. Lee Meyer did the lights, Cherol Thibaut the period costumes, and Joe Arno the sound – a crucial element in this play, well cued by stage manger Rebeca Davidson. The assured and experienced directing hand of Jan Meyer guided the production."

So, I have closed The Heiress and am already experiencing the classic "now what" feeling. It's more noticeable this time since I went from September to now, hopping through three shows without a pause. There are a few auditions on the horizon that I will attend in hopes of entering the theatre as soon as possible.

 Sneaking a peek at the letter the Doctor wants me to deliver.
~~~~~~

It's funny, really. It's very much a love/hate relationship, the heartbreaking rejections, the stressful rehearsal processes, the sleep-walking that I, personally, experience and the lack of sleep due to this. The deep and stabbing frustration one suffers when they feel they don't "have" the character, and the constant depression, the self-deprecation because you feel you should be better at this. On the other hand, you have the feeling the theatre gives you, merely upon entrance. The smell of the set being made, the familiar faces of your cast/crew mates, your family for only a few months but completely unforgettable. The warm glow of the dressing room lights, being measured for costumes and going through the motions with your head held high, the feeling of satisfaction while doing this, the feeling that you know EVERYTHING and that this place is your home. The moment you step out on stage, peering into the empty seats but feeling the audience there anyway. Taking direction from your director, the laughter that they give you in return and the mental notes you take on where the laugh lines will be. Trying something new each time on stage, experimenting and playing around while still taking it seriously and naturally, the applause at the end when you drop character and stand in front of a great number of people and take that bow. In the end, the pros outweigh the cons and most of the time, the cons themselves are things we just can't live without.

Yes, I feel I'm already experiencing withdraw. But I have submitted my photos and resume to a talent agency for a casting call that they are holding. I do hope I hear back from them but I plan to still submit my things to other agents as well. The problem is, I'm in St. Louis, Missouri. There isn't much in the way of theatre, films or agents in this area. More and more I find myself thinking of visiting California for pilot season. Now that I have a full-time job, I have the means of obtaining the money. I hope I'm not scared. Even if I am, I can't give into it.

I got a facial today in an attempt to shrink the pores before my next photo shoot. The woman was very nice but she kept telling me that I need to start wearing an anti-wrinkle creme and that my neck and underneath my chin showed signs of aging already....while I understand why she told me, so as to warn me, it's not what I want to hear right now. I'll be 24 at the end of this month.

I've worked in community theatre shows with them before, the older people who gaze upon the usually smallish set with sadness and exclaim, "I used to do theatre when I was in high school. I had dreams of going along with it..." Then they usually stop there and come back to the world but the damage has been done. Just by their mentioning it, they remember old dreams and hopes, re-evaluating their lives now AND they have freaked out the younger actors around them while at it. I don't want that to happen..I MUST do what I can to do this for a living. And in order to achieve this, I need to stop lollygagging, stop messing around and get down to business. I mean, how do I expect to have the life I dream of if I don't do anything about it? Surely, what happened to Lana Turner doesn't happen anymore.

So, I now have a few things to work on, places to go, groups to join, auditions to attend, phone calls to make, and things to learn. Even if if doesn't pay off, even if nothing comes of it, at least I'll have tried instead of giving it up like those people who revisit their theatre days every now and then and say, "I could have..."

How could professionals like these give up?