That's George Sanders as "Addison DeWitt" in All About Eve. I love his performance in that film. In this scene where he is talking to aspiring stage actress "Eve Harrington," he goes on to say:
"...I think the time has come to shed some of your humility. It's just as false not to blow your horn at all; as it is to blow it too loudly."
So, in that spirit, I am going to blow my own horn and the horn of some wonderful people I've recently worked with. Or at least give the horns some rousing TOOTS, HONKS and maybe a few ARROOOHHHGAAHHS. If you follow these blogs, you will know that I recently mentioned I was in rehearsals for Tennessee Williams' Cat On a Hot Tin Roof. Well, that production is now nearly a week behind us. Here's the cast photo:
"...I think the time has come to shed some of your humility. It's just as false not to blow your horn at all; as it is to blow it too loudly."
So, in that spirit, I am going to blow my own horn and the horn of some wonderful people I've recently worked with. Or at least give the horns some rousing TOOTS, HONKS and maybe a few ARROOOHHHGAAHHS. If you follow these blogs, you will know that I recently mentioned I was in rehearsals for Tennessee Williams' Cat On a Hot Tin Roof. Well, that production is now nearly a week behind us. Here's the cast photo:
That's me in the tan suit and black tie. I was playing "Big Daddy Pollitt." Most people are familiar with this play; many through the famous movie version from 1958 starring Paul Newman and Elizabeth Taylor.
Also Burl Ives as Big Daddy and news to me: Jack Carson as the older son, Gooper. Jack Carson is one of my favorite old time stars; someone perhaps lost to the mists of fame. I have never seen the movie version as an adult, that is, from start to finish, in one sitting. I recall coming across it on TV as a kid and not having much interest in it. Too "grown up." Too talky. And more than likely in "Pan and Scan" which backinaday ruined more than one WideScreen movie on an old-school boob-tube. And even if I had understood it, I would not have been getting the real deal, story-wise; as Tinseltown pretty much Rinso-ed out all the stuff which made the play interesting; turning it instead into an entirely hetero(normative) bedroom tale of a couple on the rocks, for no apparently good reason. Here's the tale in a nutshell(ish):
Big Daddy Pollitt is a wealthy cotton magnate who owns 28 thousand acres of fertile land in upper Mississippi. It's his 65th birthday and the family have gathered for the occasion. His wife, Big Mama. His two adult sons, Brick and Gooper. His daughters-in-law Mae and Maggie (known as "The Cat" (for reasons which are never really disclosed). Also present are Gooper and Mae's five children, the local "Preacher" and Big Daddy's physician, Doc Baugh. And various and sundry household staff. Big Daddy has recently returned from a clinic where his "spastic colon" has been thoroughly tested and he has been given a clean bill of health. It's not cancer, like everyone suspected...or is it? Well, it is and everyone is trying to keep the truth from Big Daddy until the last possible second; because everyone is scheming (except maybe Big Mama and Brick) to get as big a chunk of his fortunes as they can. Meanwhile, Brick is spiraling into acute alcoholism following the death of his friend Skipper. He is also in an "arrangement" with his wife, regarding their cohabitation. He's exiled himself from their bed to the sofa. It seems Maggie inserted herself into Brick and Skipper's "not quite right" friendship and Brick is pissed off. But just exactly why is left unclear. He keeps proclaiming his friendship with Skipper was "true and pure"; but even his own father suspects it was maybe a little "dirty." And here's the interesting part: Big Daddy seems like he couldn't care less if it were true. Big Daddy holds Brick hostage in the bedroom to "track down" Brick's "drinking to kill his disgust with mendacity." Eventually numerous truths are exposed, including Big Daddy's malignant cancer diagnosis, which Brick cruelly hurls in his father's face. Later, this truth is told to Big Mama who lays down the law about what is or is not going to happen in the immediate future. She tells Maggie and Brick that a son/grandson would be the answer to everyone's "dream." Maggie seizes on this; and when Big Daddy comes back into the room, seemingly resolved to his fate, she gifts him for his birthday the information that she is carrying Brick's child. This is, of course, a lie. But it's a lie that Maggie can make true if she can get Brick off of that sofa and back where he belongs; which she does at the end of the play. There is little doubt that Maggie is going to have Brick's child...she's Maggie the Cat. And there's nothing more determined than a cat on a hot tin roof.
So that's the plot. But, oh, there is so much more. Layer after layer of subtext. It's a fascinating play. It's almost like three plays in one. Originally three acts. The first act is more or less a long scene between Brick and Maggie, in which, Maggie does most of the talking...for a good solid forty-five minutes. The second act is sort of a play within the play between basically Brick and Big Daddy. And then the third act is pretty much everyone in the cast doing a chamber piece. Our "Maggie" (Lorin Mello) described it thusly (and I paraphrase): "...the first act is a monologue; the second act is a dialogue and the third act is (an ensemble)..." And I think this is very true. When we did the show, it was split into two acts, which was great. Most modern theater goers are not patient enough for an old-school two intermission play.
Big Daddy does not enter the proceedings until nearly 45 minutes into the play. So I, as an actor, had a huge chunk of time to ruminate. Rumination can sometimes lead to overthinking and overthinking can sometimes lead to a "self-psych-out." And I was most decidedly ruminating during those 45 minutes.
Big Daddy Pollitt is a wealthy cotton magnate who owns 28 thousand acres of fertile land in upper Mississippi. It's his 65th birthday and the family have gathered for the occasion. His wife, Big Mama. His two adult sons, Brick and Gooper. His daughters-in-law Mae and Maggie (known as "The Cat" (for reasons which are never really disclosed). Also present are Gooper and Mae's five children, the local "Preacher" and Big Daddy's physician, Doc Baugh. And various and sundry household staff. Big Daddy has recently returned from a clinic where his "spastic colon" has been thoroughly tested and he has been given a clean bill of health. It's not cancer, like everyone suspected...or is it? Well, it is and everyone is trying to keep the truth from Big Daddy until the last possible second; because everyone is scheming (except maybe Big Mama and Brick) to get as big a chunk of his fortunes as they can. Meanwhile, Brick is spiraling into acute alcoholism following the death of his friend Skipper. He is also in an "arrangement" with his wife, regarding their cohabitation. He's exiled himself from their bed to the sofa. It seems Maggie inserted herself into Brick and Skipper's "not quite right" friendship and Brick is pissed off. But just exactly why is left unclear. He keeps proclaiming his friendship with Skipper was "true and pure"; but even his own father suspects it was maybe a little "dirty." And here's the interesting part: Big Daddy seems like he couldn't care less if it were true. Big Daddy holds Brick hostage in the bedroom to "track down" Brick's "drinking to kill his disgust with mendacity." Eventually numerous truths are exposed, including Big Daddy's malignant cancer diagnosis, which Brick cruelly hurls in his father's face. Later, this truth is told to Big Mama who lays down the law about what is or is not going to happen in the immediate future. She tells Maggie and Brick that a son/grandson would be the answer to everyone's "dream." Maggie seizes on this; and when Big Daddy comes back into the room, seemingly resolved to his fate, she gifts him for his birthday the information that she is carrying Brick's child. This is, of course, a lie. But it's a lie that Maggie can make true if she can get Brick off of that sofa and back where he belongs; which she does at the end of the play. There is little doubt that Maggie is going to have Brick's child...she's Maggie the Cat. And there's nothing more determined than a cat on a hot tin roof.
So that's the plot. But, oh, there is so much more. Layer after layer of subtext. It's a fascinating play. It's almost like three plays in one. Originally three acts. The first act is more or less a long scene between Brick and Maggie, in which, Maggie does most of the talking...for a good solid forty-five minutes. The second act is sort of a play within the play between basically Brick and Big Daddy. And then the third act is pretty much everyone in the cast doing a chamber piece. Our "Maggie" (Lorin Mello) described it thusly (and I paraphrase): "...the first act is a monologue; the second act is a dialogue and the third act is (an ensemble)..." And I think this is very true. When we did the show, it was split into two acts, which was great. Most modern theater goers are not patient enough for an old-school two intermission play.
Big Daddy does not enter the proceedings until nearly 45 minutes into the play. So I, as an actor, had a huge chunk of time to ruminate. Rumination can sometimes lead to overthinking and overthinking can sometimes lead to a "self-psych-out." And I was most decidedly ruminating during those 45 minutes.
In fact, I was ruminating so much at certain points, I was ruminating upon my entrance and during the birthday party scene. A couple of times I dropped an important line, which was also a great laugh line. Thank God we had a cast that was expert at "saving" things and more importantly, willing to save things for other actors; because believe me, there are some actors who can't. They go into "deer in the headlights" mode (a.k.a. "The White Room") and everyone on stage finds themselves wandering around in a strange and scarily silent void. And there are also some actors who won't. They won't help out a fellow actor, for whatever reason. They are willing to come to a halt on stage and watch their fellow thespian flounder. I have never understood this rather Machiavellian trait. I had one director say once: "What good is it if you're the only performer who was perfect; but the ship still sank?" I couldn't agree more. My philosophy in regards to stage performance is not what you did right; but rather how you fixed something that went wrong. Fixed it so skillfully the audience had no clue.
In order to counteract my pre-entrance anxiety, I was rather laden down with talismans. I was wearing numerous religious medals, various and sundry bent nails and screws I found backstage, I was carrying rosary beads and my pockets were stuffed with photos of numerous friends and relatives, some here, some gone. Also, a picture of Tennessee Williams, and various cast photos of shows of this production that had successful runs. And my statue of St. Genesius was guarding my stuff from bad hoo-doo in the dressing room. My husband gave this to me and he now accompanies me on all thespianic outings.
In order to counteract my pre-entrance anxiety, I was rather laden down with talismans. I was wearing numerous religious medals, various and sundry bent nails and screws I found backstage, I was carrying rosary beads and my pockets were stuffed with photos of numerous friends and relatives, some here, some gone. Also, a picture of Tennessee Williams, and various cast photos of shows of this production that had successful runs. And my statue of St. Genesius was guarding my stuff from bad hoo-doo in the dressing room. My husband gave this to me and he now accompanies me on all thespianic outings.
My mother was with me too, in my pocket:
As a matter of fact, she somehow got from the theater to our washing machine and went through the rinse cycle unscathed. And now, you're probably starting to think that I might be a tad on the superstitious side. One of them there superstitious actors. And I can't say you wouldn't be wrong. And the older I get, the more superstitious of an actor I become. In this case, however, I will say that there was more than a little pressure on this show and it's cast to be...well...perfect. And I understand that. I think myself and every member of this cast put on a lot of self-imposed pressure to be perfect. Were we perfect? No. Nothing is perfect. In ART anyways. But why, Chris, you might ask, were you and your fellow cast members attempting perfection. Why was there all that pressure? Well, because this play is considered one of the master works of 20th century theater by one of the towering genius playwrights of all time. It is well known. It's production has certain expectations. Williams is one of those playwrights that you simply can't do an "okay" job with. And this play is perhaps his most complex play. Perhaps the hardest to do correctly. Because it's simultaneously a serious drama and a not so very dark comedy; occurring concurrently (not to put too redundant a point on it). Other pressure points were parallel expectations of another kind. This was the first show of the third season of (EXIT, PURSUED BY A) BEAR THEATER, a new theater group in a small town that has way more theater groups than one might expect in this little corner of Southwest Virginia. There is competition. There are politics. There are...do I dare say...rivalries? BEAR THEATER has a growing reputation for putting up quality productions of well known works, like this one. There was more than a little riding on this one and I think every one felt it.
The first time I saw this play was in the early 90's. It was a Broadway revival that went on the road (I saw it in my hometown of Boston) with the original cast. Maggie was being played by movie star Kathleen Turner. In fact the whole show was packaged around her and her sultry, sexy, steamy Body Heat persona:
The first time I saw this play was in the early 90's. It was a Broadway revival that went on the road (I saw it in my hometown of Boston) with the original cast. Maggie was being played by movie star Kathleen Turner. In fact the whole show was packaged around her and her sultry, sexy, steamy Body Heat persona:
I recall that production coming off as more of a light comedy. With Turner's entrance and the laugh lines about her nieces and nephews being "no neck little monsters" and Ms. Turner's droll delivery; the audience was primed for comedy. At least that was my takeaway. Brick's storyline was just a throwaway "dramatic" story about a guy who drinks too much. When I did the play 17 years ago and played Brick, I recall my scene with Big Daddy being rather straight forward and low stakes. It was more emphatic. Oh, okay...yes Dad, I drink because I feel guilty about not understanding my gay friend. And also, you do have cancer." The man playing Big Daddy was excellent; but he had mobility issues with his knees (if I recall correctly); so our interaction was rather static and we were limited to a rather small stage. Not so in this production. I was chasing Brick into every corner of the room and some nights the physical interactions resembled a football game.
And that's the thing for an actor in this play doing Big Daddy. You're sort of doing a play within the play. Big Daddy doesn't do much with the other characters. He berates his wife in an early five-minute harangue. He berates his daughter-in-law Mae for a slightly briefer time. He barely has any stage time with Maggie and when that does come at the end, it too is brief. So for "Big Daddy" and the actor playing him (in this case, me) the near entirety of this performance is the nearly hour long scene (well, maybe more like a half an hour) between Big Daddy and Brick. Brick, on the other hand, is on the stage from the start of the play to the finish. This was our "Brick."
And that's the thing for an actor in this play doing Big Daddy. You're sort of doing a play within the play. Big Daddy doesn't do much with the other characters. He berates his wife in an early five-minute harangue. He berates his daughter-in-law Mae for a slightly briefer time. He barely has any stage time with Maggie and when that does come at the end, it too is brief. So for "Big Daddy" and the actor playing him (in this case, me) the near entirety of this performance is the nearly hour long scene (well, maybe more like a half an hour) between Big Daddy and Brick. Brick, on the other hand, is on the stage from the start of the play to the finish. This was our "Brick."
That's one Mr. Nick Vogel. I had met him once before we were cast together. I had gone to see a play he was in (I didn't know he was in it at the time) called: The Shark Is Broken, which is about the interpersonal difficulties of the three main leads of 1975's Jaws. The set is the boat from the movie and Nick was playing "Richard Dreyfuss." He had a scruffy beard and spectacles, just like Dreyfuss had during the filming. I went to the last performance and I think I was the last person to say hello to the cast and Nick was the last actor I spoke too. A lot of lasts, there. One of the reasons I went to see it--besides being curious as to who was cast in the show; having myself auditioned and not been cast--was that I love that movie and had myself jokingly started writing a musical script of Jaws. Which was also interesting because a lot of stage interpretations of that movie seemed to be cropping up at the same time. Here's a link to what I came up with, if you're interested...
www.christopherfreidy.com/blog/singing-shark-flick-flounders-in-development-hell
www.christopherfreidy.com/blog/singing-shark-flick-flounders-in-development-hell
I know for certain that several of us who went to audition for this show almost didn't. That includes me. I'm too old to play Brick or his brother. So that meant I was viable for three of the main male roles. The doctor, the preacher or Big Daddy. I wasn't yearning to be in this show. So I showed up on the last day of auditions with a barely memorized monologue. I recognized several people there, having worked with them before. And several people I didn't recognize. And then, at the last second, Nick kind of wandered in. I immediately recognized him because he still had the scruffy beard and the glasses from when he played "Richard Dreyfuss." I came to find out later that this was actually Nick's usual appearance. I said to myself: "Oh, that's the guy from the Jaws thing..."
"Sides" are script pages that are pulled for auditioning actors. Usually pieces of scenes. Scenes between the main leads. So you read and then they call you back to the stage and have you do different characters and then, quite often, you find yourself doing a certain character several times. I kept finding myself reading for Big Daddy. Nick kept being called to play Brick, actually, to the point where I assumed he had already been cast. But I could sense that he was thinking: "...am I officially Brick?" Eventually, he sort of ended up just staying on the stage; like he was waiting for a bus. He had a kind of detached whimsical quality. There were no sides from scenes between Brick and Big Daddy, so I didn't read with him. I didn't read with Lorin Mello either, who ended up as our "Maggie the Cat."
"Sides" are script pages that are pulled for auditioning actors. Usually pieces of scenes. Scenes between the main leads. So you read and then they call you back to the stage and have you do different characters and then, quite often, you find yourself doing a certain character several times. I kept finding myself reading for Big Daddy. Nick kept being called to play Brick, actually, to the point where I assumed he had already been cast. But I could sense that he was thinking: "...am I officially Brick?" Eventually, he sort of ended up just staying on the stage; like he was waiting for a bus. He had a kind of detached whimsical quality. There were no sides from scenes between Brick and Big Daddy, so I didn't read with him. I didn't read with Lorin Mello either, who ended up as our "Maggie the Cat."
The second Lorin started talking during her audition, I knew she was Maggie. Every word out of her mouth had an absolute truth to it and a startling naturalness. And Maggie's language runs the gamut from "...he shot a squirt of tobacco juice right in poor Susie's face!" to "Poisons, poisons, venomous thoughts and words! In hearts and minds! That's poisons!" to "The rich or the well-to-do can afford to respect moral patterns, conventional moral patterns; but I never could afford to..." I mean she runs the range from coarse to academician. And Lorin delivered it all with astonishing aplomb. And in our limited moments together, she brought all kinds of subtle interactions which, for me, instantly established an inter-character rapport that I was truly grateful for.
Big Mama was played by Tina Edwards:
More to come!
Big Mama was played by Tina Edwards:
More to come!