Theatre has so much to teach us Film Folk

INTERIOR WELLINGTON COLLEGE DRAMA THEATRE NIGHT

1963. An audience of teachers, students, and relatives of the cast fill the 200 seat theatre for the second and last performance of the school production of King Lear. Most of them are praying for it to end; though, among the parents, there are pockets of rapt attention whenever their offspring is on stage. Those with a knowledge of Shakespeare realize that the play has reached Act 4, Scene 6, and their torment will soon be over.
Goneril’s steward Oswald, “ a serviceable villain”, sword in hand, has confronted the mad Lear and the blinded Gloucester, unaware that their “mad” companion, dressed in peasant garb and blocking his path, is in fact Gloucester’s son Edgar.

OSWALD
Out, dunghill!

Edgar readies his quarterstaff against the sword. The Young in the audience have but one common thought: Thank God. A fight scene. About bloody time.

The 16 year old actor playing Oswald has been looking forward to this moment, too. He is also the fight choreographer for the play, but his massed battle scene in Act 3 with replica weapons had been cut at dress rehearsal for being “too dangerous.” The legal ramifications of children being poleaxed in front of their parents somehow took precedence over his dynamic choreography. So this is his sole opportunity to strut his stuff, and tonight his parents are watching.

Thrust, block, disengage, feint high, cut low, block again. Due to extensive rehearsal both actors are in perfect synchronization. Now, the final phrase. A hard parry, then Edgar knocks the sword from Oswald’s hand, followed by a lunge with the staff, hitting Oswald in the midriff, pitching him back.

The actor playing Oswald is both “in the moment” and anxious to impress. He does a flying back fall worthy of a John Woo movie. He lands harder and slides along the stage further than at rehearsal. But the essential element in this part of the choreography has been maintained. His body remains at a 90 degree axis from the audience. This will enable Edgar to thrust the sword just to the upstage side of Oswald’s midriff, but give the illusion of it entering his stomach. Edgar picks up the fallen sword and approaches.

At this point there is an unfortunate confluence of events. First, the velocity of Oswald’s slide on his back along the stage has resulted in the collar of his costume to be pulled tight like a noose around his throat. The actor, momentarily stunned by the unexpected impact of the exaggerated fall, does not think to slide back enough to release the constriction on his windpipe. Besides, it is his job to stay “in the moment” playing the terror of imminent death as Edgar readies his downward thrust.

The second issue is Edgar’s accuracy with the weapon in hand. Perhaps disoriented by having to walk a couple of paces further than in rehearsal, he rams the sword down beside Oswald’s upstage thigh rather than his mid section. Thus from the audience’s point of view, whose heads are level with the floor of the stage, it appears that the sword penetrated the genital area.

Compounding these issues, is Oswald’s determination to deliver the most agonizing scream of pain ever uttered by an actor on the Shakespearean stage. But the restriction to his windpipe results in a piercing falsetto.

An explosion of hysterical laughter rocks the auditorium, perhaps releasing the accumulated tension acquired from watching 2 hours plus of bad school theatre on uncomfortable canvas seats. Unlike today’ s open slather of gross out humor, this is an era when such sight gags were forbidden from stage and screen. The teenagers are in Seventh Heaven. And their joy infects the adults. The actor’s writhing to free his windpipe only ensures the waves of laughter continue for 30 seconds.

Oswald, in addition to being mortified by his unintentionally comedic castration, is faced with a dilemma. He has 5 more lines! A death speech of vital exposition, revealing to Edgar secret information, proving Edmund’s adulterous treachery with Goneril. The actor knows without these lines the next scenes will make no sense. It would be a merciful end to his humiliation to simply stay dead, but no, the show must go on. The actor puts on his best dying voice, but the text now seems a precursor to Monty Python And The Holy Grail. Adults struggle to resume decorum, but with each line the teenagers bring them undone, as Shakespeare spiked by a crotch joke descends into bathos.

OSWALD
Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse.
If thou wilt thrive, bury my body;
And give the letters which thou findst about me
To Edmund Earl of Gloucester. Seek him out
Among the British party. O, untimely death!
Death!

Death, indeed. Ending the speech after “ the British party “ might have been prudent. But it is hard for a young actor, even under these circumstances, to give up a word of a small part.

*********************

As Shakespeare said, shit happens. More on my various disastrous stage appearances in future blogs. No doubt many of you have witnessed or personally experienced worse travails. This memory was recalled by the posting of an old school friend David Myer, recalling our end of term review days. ( David, please send me your email. )

I have such admiration for theatre actors. In a movie, when you screw up, you can do another take. Not so on the stage. The egg will continue to drip down your face till the text allows you to retreat to the wings.

On Sunday I saw a play that was flawless in every respect.

“LADY” by Craig Wright, is a Road Theatre Company production at The Lankershim Arts Center, North Hollywood, running till the end of June. Without wishing to give too much away, I would describe the play as a profoundly engaging allegory, in which the Left, the Right, and the Confused of our political spectrum, along with the Core Values of this country, are represented and debated, when three old friends go on their annual hunting trip.
Such is the skill of noted playwright Craig Wright, a writer for Six Feet Under, and the creator of ABC’s Dirty Sexy Money, that it never becomes preachy. All the dialogue, some of it naturalistically overlapping due to thoughtful direction by Scott Alan Smith, springs organically from character and situation. Mark Doerr, Matt Kirkwood, and Shawn Michael Patrick don’t just perform well, they inhabit their characters, so that the laughs and the tears stay with you days after the show. The set design by Stephen Gifford is a clever, evocative use of slender resources. Sound design is very effective at taking us into the emotional heart of the piece. I could go on. Suffice to say, every department delivers excellent work.

My overall point in this week’s blog is that Theatre has so much to teach us Film Folk. It is the dramatic soil from which we Cinephiles sprang. It educated and entertained humankind for thousands of years before technological advances gave birth to the movies. But the underlying disciplines in both mediums are the same. As a profession, we do not go to The Theatre enough, and I don’t mean the big ticket items. It is the small theatre companies that are doing the cutting edge creative work. In the US, Canada, UK, and Australia, actors, writers, and directors are practicing their craft, between paying gigs, for crumbs or for free, in little theatres not far from you. Surely there is one good play a month, validated by word of mouth or a reviewer you respect, that is worth a visit.

“LADY” certainly is. It sends you out thinking. Which is what drama is intended to do.

The Road Theater Company, in the Lankershim Arts Center, 5108 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood, 866) 811-4111, www.roadtheatre.org
From 04/22/08 to 06/14/08; opening 04/25/08