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Today’s school day has been brought to you by the word deadly.

The performance for Once A Catholic was this afternoon at 3. I arrived about an hour and a half early to warm-up, get in costume, and have plenty of time left over. Everything worked according to plan, until 3 o’clock rolled around. The other show got out on time, so we started shortly after three. The first scene, the scene in which I sing, made me a little nervous. I mean, I’m not in the show for long, I figured I’d have to make this good. Of course, I screw up and run out of air through my first phrase, which isn’t the greatest thing, considering that my second bit of singing is fairly dependent upon my ability to sustain a note or two. Fortunately, I recovered, and even heard a great deal of laughter during the second part.

And so, with the crowd ultra-pumped, the show forged on to the first scene — which (and at no fault of the actors) can be described as too long and devoid of humor. So, that audience that I had all warmed up and ready to go went back to sitting on their hands. Excellent.

Barbara was well-received by the audience, despite the fact that she was unwilling to admit this. R.J. also received a bunch of laughs upon his entrance. My second scene came and went, I honestly can’t remember much of it… except for the fact that I might have been a bit in my head when thinking of what questions to ask what people (although I doubt it, because if I was, I’d probably remember). I do remember some laughter there, however, and in the spots where there wasn’t immediate laughter, at least there was a bit of response.

Either way, I figured it best to forget about it. Inspector Hound is the one that I’m going to be exceptionally proud of, anyway. I stuck around to listen in on the Cuthbert / Mary Gallagher scene (Kyle & Leila), and it seemed as if it went well from behind the curtain. I just wish I could have watched it out in the house. After that, I went up to the dressing room to get changed out of my costume and back into my normal clothes. It was about this time that I realized it was past 4:00, and our show wasn’t over yet… meaning that we went over the alloted 50-minute time period. That can’t be a good thing, because the teachers that have to watch the exam plays don’t necessarily enjoy them going over.

I didn’t stick around for the end — instead heading upstairs to Hound rehearsal, where I was a little bit late. T asked me how the show was, and I told him that it went pretty well — the only thing I would have changed would be allowing more time to take breath and fully supporting the voice (especially on that first line). We did our usual warm-up, and then we began rehearsal by intellectualizing about the play. Today’s discussion finally made some things about the play clearer to me. For the weeks I’ve had this play, I’ve wondered about who truly was the Inspector, the madman, etc. … and today’s class helped clear that up a bit. I wasn’t the only one who was slightly confused, however, so I was glad I wasn’t alone.

After this, we did our first ever run through of the entire play, from start to finish. I was surprised that I remembered as many of the lines as I didn’t… and, after consulting the script, learned that the only lines I didn’t get were partially due to the actor before me screwing up the line before it (and yet, unlike some other people I’ve known, I didn’t rudely incorrect them — sorry, that’s left over from this morning’s rant). After we got through to the end of the play, T informed us that we had ran past 6PM, meaning that we’re running long. In his words, we were running longer than the other cast, who were slow. He then said that, if he had to sum up today’s performance in one word, it would be…

“Deadly.”

Apparently, that’s not a bad thing for this point in the rehearsal process… but it’s hard to take something like that as a compliment.

1 rehearsal day left for The Real Inspector Hound

I’ll tell you what got to bother me during the course of the Comedy Series… actors not respecting each other. I’m not saying that everyone was guilty of this. As a matter of fact, there was only one culprit. I won’t name the offending actor (because it’s another, unspoken part of an actor’s job to kiss everyone’s ass at every opportunity they get — and basing each other, especially in print, is strictly frowned upon)… but I’m sure going to type an entry about it, because it pisses me off.

As an actor, it’s your job to cover your own ass, and nobody else’s. If, during a performance, your acting partner forgets a line… you are never to feed it to them. As a matter of fact, the audience never really knows when anything goes wrong in a show, and what may feel like an eternity on stage in silence is actually a few short moments. If a really long time passes and there’s absolutely no way that the other person is going to remember their line, then it might be acceptable to just move on with your next line in the show and forget the whole thing happened. However, in a rehearsal environment, you should never do this. Here’s a small excerpt of what legendary actress / acting teacher Uta Hagen had to say about the topic:

When I insist that you don’t tell each other what to do, I mean not only the obvious (”Look at me on that line,” “Why don’t you walk around a little more?” “It would help if you were a little more threatning,” etc.) I mean literally never tell, advise, or “help” your partner with his role! You immediately become a director instead of an actor. You also become his audience by watching him and judging whether he’s more threatening to you, or walking around enough, or looking at you on cue. You destroy all innocence of receiving.

If the information or the facts of the scene are unclear, you obviously must come to an agreement about them. But don’t verbalize your wishes or your actions or your obstacles, or theorize about them. You will immediately become self-conscious and destroy the confrontation with your partner, and the possibility for true interaction!

I can make some funny examples, taken from my own experiences, for how to avoice “your fault” talk. If the other character is supposed to stop you from leaving the room, but doesn’t do it quickly enough — leave! The next time that actor will stop you on time. You never have to say, “You’re supposed to stop me there,” or “You didn’t say your line fast enough.” It also works in reverse. If the other actor rushes out and leaves you no room for your line, let him. Don’t say “You’re not giving me enough time for my line.” If the ot her actor is off circumstances, instead of arguing, go along with him, and the scene will grind to a halt for him. Use what the other actor does, make his signal;s alive by endowing them with what you need or what you want.

There’s nothing that seems to bother me in the world of the theatre more than actors ignoring these rules. Unprofessionalism like that really sucks… and it’s making me hate this person without even getting a chance to know them. Fortunately, I’ve never met anyone else at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts who’s had such a startling level of unprofessionalism… and I’m not the only one who thinks so.

All I know is that I really, really want to fuck around with them during our performance to see how this particular actor reacts.

Money says they cry.