This is Urinetown

I'm taking a break from blog-a-day to comment on the project which has been mentioned recently, which our cast has spent the last 4+ working on.

Urinetown the Musical

Granted, I haven't blog-a-day'ed in a few days anyway due to reasons which I'll get to in a few lines, but suffice it to say, Urinetown has been the best and probably most difficult show process I've ever been a part of-- which is why it's lucky that it was unequivocally also the most rewarding.

This is a show that I wasn't even sure I should audition for, it being a UVU student production, and me not being a UVU student or even a student of any kind (with a degree already hair toss cigarette tap). I auditioned anyway, hoping to work with Dave Tinney and Jeremy Showgren again, as well as hoping to finally have a chance to work with Ames, having been skunked on every attempt to work together since we met. I was called back, but around noon on the day of call backs, I started throwing up more than I have ever in my life, and wasn't able to even drag my sorry self out of bed enough to show my face. I was disappointed, but figured it would, as ever, turn out for the best.

And it did, since Ames was cast as the narrator-cop, and I was cast in a supporting role, Little Becky Two-Shoes, the pregnant, smoking, jump-roping-and-singing rebel who actually wore a black shoe and a red shoe (and awesome/ripped up fishnet stockings) by the time we got to performances.

I've already posted this picture. I invite you to look at it again.

This was a turning point for me as a performer in the last year or so. I'll be honest-- it was an incredibly difficult year, having come off of nine shows in one year (with relatively decent roles, I'll just be honest), to not being cast in anything I auditioned for. First of all, the audition itself was an achievement for me, and I left feeling like part of me had been restored, regardless of how the cast might turn out. Throughout the rehearsal process, I re-secured a lot of the insecurities I had developed about my voice and what I'm basically capable of.

WARNING: I get that this is going to sound like me feeling like I'm awesome. That is not how I feel. This is merely an expression of how my opinions of myself and recognition of my abilities has changed and improved.

Though my part wasn't hugely important-- I was no Bobby Strong, that's for true-- it was important to me to feel comfortable and settled and like I was able to achieve some kind of real character development. Particularly once we got into performances, I really feel like I had accomplished that, even if it was for no one but myself. I got to sing this crazy kick-ah song called "Snuff the Girl" with my friend Jacob, without whom I'm sure I couldn't have reached certain places in my performance. Look how awesome he looked in this show, you guys.
He had one of the best costumes in the whole show. Actually all the costumes in this show were phenomenal, and we were so filthy with stage dirt, all the time. And sorry ladies-- Jake is totally off the market!

Our opening weekend was a dream come true, with the attendance of 400 screaming high school students for two nights, who were participants at this year's Utah Theatre Association conference, which was held at UVU. It was definitely surreal, and set a standard for us as a cast which may or may not have been realistic... But for real, the show was consistently brilliant. We consistently had compliments comparing us to the original and national touring casts. People thought this was the best college theater performance they had seen in Utah, if not ever. I have never been more excited or proud to be a part of a show.

Let me take a moment to tell you about my friend Ashley, who played Penelope Pennywise for her senior project this year.

Doesn't she look like a crazy hot 1930's post-apocalypse Ursula from The Little Mermaid? Yes. HOT.

Ashley was stage managing UVU's Something Wicked This Way Comes when we started rehearsing Urinetown and popped into the process like a rock star about a month later. She was really able to reach some very interesting and emotional places as the one time lover of Caldwell B. Cladwell. She was awesome. Really gross and nasty and sympathetic and tender and sad and funny, all at the same time, with a tearing voice, you guys. She became my friend, which I was really excited about because everyone wants to be her friend and not everyone gets to be.

This past Wednesday, Ashley was hurt during Act I of our performance and had to be taken to the hospital. She's the kind of girl whose head could fall off in the middle of a show and she'd be like, "Oh could someone get that? I have to go sing now," and she'd run onstage for her cue-- so this was kind of a really big deal for her, and for us as a cast. We were told we wouldn't be able to continue the show that night, and with inexpressibly heavy hearts, we packed up our bags and left.

This is where my story gets particularly interesting for me, and potentially braggy from the perspectives of others. This is not my purpose.

Our director Dave told me that night to go home and review the role of Ms. Pennywise, and to meet in his office 9am Thursday morning, so we could rehearse the show just in case. Friend Aubrey in the ensemble (with a killer voice, I'll have you know) was also asked to come so she could learn Little Becky Two-Shoes. We rehearsed for a number of hours Thursday, and by Thursday night, we went on to do the show.

Note how I am in no way crazy hot 1930's post-apocalypse Ursula. Note the script in my hand (which maybe was hidden onstage with me sometimes, you don't know maybe it was). Note how nervous I look. Note all of these things.

And here's the thing: WE DID IT, you guys. We didn't just walk through and do it, we did it. Hell and high water came, and we did it. It was the most nerve-wracking experience of my life. Admittedly, I had a little come-apart around 5:15 PM when I realized, Oh my hell, I have to do this. This is happening. You know, maybe it wasn't the best performance we'd had up till that point. Let's be honest-- Pennywise wasn't as hard-A as she's been for the last four months, and maybe she dropped a line or two. But let me toot my own horn and say, having gone out there to perform some parts of the show that I hadn't even rehearsed before, I did a good job, dammit. The show came together. It was a true testament to the power and mind-set of theater people when the show must go on.

I had some incredibly supportive people in the audience that night, and for the rest of the run, and so many texts and tweets and hugs and love-squeezes on my arm. I can't even begin to express how grateful I am to everyone in the whole process who helped Aubrey and me manage to give some pretty great performances, all things considered. Chase and Chase were my right and left arms for that and all the rest of our performances. Katie Sue talked me off some emotional cliffs in the dressing room and I bet she didn't even know it. Jordan and Jordan and Kelly were my cheerleaders, and PHIL, and everyone in the cast for being nice and supportive and helping me take this on in the midst of a real loss. And Ames, who didn't even let me have the option to fail even for one single second. Jeremy made sure I was all set to go if I needed music rehearsal, and Dave was the single greatest vote of confidence I have ever had in my life, on so many levels. He trusted me to somehow take this already hugely successful show and keep that bar raised to the standard of expectation audiences had become used to. He trusted me to take a role that had already been established and committed and wonderful, and make the show not suck without Ashley. I have never been so scared or honored in my life.

We approached the character from a very different perspective, mostly because there would be no way I could gather the strength and depth Ashley had developed over four months. Dave stuck an enormous wad of gum in my mouth for the entire show, and we approached it like Urinetown starring Anne Baxter as Ms. Pennywise. By closing night, I was running around the stage (when directed, of course) like Gone with the Wind. And you know-- by closing night, I was having fun, you guys. That show was damn fun. And I think it's okay to admit to myself: I did a good job. And that's okay.

It was a lesson to myself about myself and what I, myself, am capable of. Do you know what I'm capable of?
- I'm capable of pulling a solid performance out from somewhere hidden.
- I'm capable of pretending like I'm confident and commanding a stage, even when I'm falling apart inside.
- I'm capable of setting goals, no matter how small, and achieving them.
- I'm capable of holding it together when people make me feel guilty for doing well, and knowing that job done well is not the same as a job done better.
- I'm capable of belting a high G.
- I'm capable of balancing the thrill of accomplishing well something difficult with the recognition of the disappointing and sad events that got me there.

Bottom line? I'm so incredibly grateful for all the wonderful people in my life who literally made this show possible for me-- for all the past experiences I had, for the process of rehearsing and the closeness of the company, for Ash who established such an incredibly grounded character that it was possible to easily and quickly take something from that strength.

And on a final note, let me introduce you to my bruises, which prove to the world what a LEGIT dance show this really was. This is the most color my legs have probably ever had, being pasty and white.

right leg left leg

It was a magical experience to be a part of something so important and thrilling. I LOVE YOU ALL.