thoughts on this show

Not that I need to disclaim anything to the twelve people who read this blog, but I feel the need to mention that I began this post last night, well before the most recent (and, frankly, most scathing) review of our little production was published. This is in no way a response to any review, merely the conglomeration of thoughts over the last few months.

It is a very interesting thing to be part of a phenomenon.

I use that word carefully. I don't mean to say I am a phenomenon, or that my peers are a phenomenon (though I openly suggest they are phenomenal), or even that this production I am a part of is an unmatchable phenomenon.

What I mean is, Les Miserables, in and of itself, is a phenomenon. And it is interesting to be a part of it, in my own small, local way.

I confess that I have not particularly bought into the phenomenon of it. I didn't ever really "get it" the way most people seem to. I wasn't raised on it. I haven't known every word of the show since I was a kid. I haven't seen every possible production available for me to see.

Don't get me wrong, I'm familiar. I was a high school drama kid. I sang a Les Mis medley in 7th grade the same way all middle school choirs did. I saw the movie. I watched some concert versions. I appreciate that people faint about it. It just hasn't been my personal end-all-be-all.

All this being said, there has been phenomenon surrounding Hale Centre Theatre's production of this show since before it was announced as part of the 2014 season. Hundreds of people auditioned. The audition and callback process was arduous, intense, at times heart-wrenching and filled with defense. It seemed ludicrous and amazing that there was such hype and anxiety and expectation surrounding a production-- any production.

To me, that also meant the process would be packed with possibility for something potentially special. The sheer amount of emotion involved-- positive and most certainly negative-- has been overwhelming for me from the start.

Overwhelming from before the start.

But people were, and have been, taking it seriously. Which is why I wanted to be a part of it. I know it would be special, I knew it would be serious. Who wouldn't be excited about that?

And people have taken this seriously. Our entire cast has been more prepared from the very first rehearsal of any production I've been a part of. People have worked. And when something didn't work, they worked harder. And worked harder again. And changed it, and worked more.

I can honestly say without hyperbole that I have seen some of my peers' most brilliant, vulnerable, lovely performances in rehearsals and this first week of performances. We have cried. We have laughed. Always conscious of the expectation.

I'd be lying if I haven't worried-- agonized?-- over the expectation. Not even necessarily of the show on a whole, but of my particular role. I am genuinely surprised as anyone that I was actually cast as Madame Thenardier. I have read the book. I am more than conscious of casting precedent. It goes without saying how this role is "usually" cast, and I understand I am not "usual." I am grateful and humbled for the opportunity. I know that it very easily could have been someone else.

The same goes with members of our cast in roles with equal (or more) precedent. No one involved is blithely unaware that they may be "against type" or "too young" or "unusual."

Because there has been this looming expectation.

Which people seem to feel incredibly inclined to share.

And I get it. This is one of the most beloved musicals of all time-- perhaps the most beloved. It has been playing for 30 years. There have been revivals upon revivals. There have been tours upon tours. Everyone knows this piece. Everyone has strong feelings (in some cases, it seems, extremely negative) about this piece. Everyone feels some amount of ownership, especially since the release of the movie last year. I think the personal ownership people feel about this story and this music is profound. This is what art is about. It's about reaching people. It's about conversation. It's about history and society.

And yet, the frequency with which local people have weighed in with such low expectation has been discouraging.

In truth, the feeling is that people (not all, but some very vocal) have hoped this would fail.

Fail!

Of all things in this world to hope for failure, what a silly thing!

But the expectation! The incredibly transparent distaste for people involved or the theater we are working at; the years of school, training and experience in varying levels of professionalism providing people the "right" to dissect casting and production value; the fact that "I have loved this musical since I was nine and IT IS MY DREAM SHOW"-- so many facets of why people are filled with expectation.

Which leads them to talk about it.

And it gets nasty, if I'm being honest.

That there was an expectation for it to fail before it even opened-- well I'm afraid that says a lot more about the viewer than it does the cast or directors or producers or design team or the theater.

If a person HATES the show to begin with and resents the hype around it-- they've already made up their mind about our production before they've seen it.

If a person resents the specific theater community, how they operate and feel in competition with their business-- they've already made up their mind about our production before they've seen it.

If a person is jealous they weren't cast and feels the people who were cast aren't right for the parts they got-- even if they're at all correct (which is a different discussion all together), they've already made up their mind about our production before they've seen it.

It's so incredibly vapid.

And sad.

Because this theater fosters good work. They strive to tell stories, sound pretty, look good, and touch hearts, exactly the way any other theater company strives to. And they're good at it. Whether you like their seasons, their productions, their talent, 23,000+ season ticket holders means they're doing something right, even if it's not to your taste.

I get it-- I understand that it's impossible to please everyone. I've never expected to please everyone. Since the moment I got my casting call, I have been armed with the confident knowledge that there will be people (perhaps many, perhaps few, perhaps my own friends and cast mates) who don't like what I do or how I portray this character. The fact is, I've made choices for this role based on my age, based on my experience, based on my comparison of the character in the novel versus the musical. If people don't prefer it, that's not on me, especially because I know I've done everything in my very own small power to satisfy all of those people and, perhaps most importantly, myself.

A woman the other night, whom I've never laid eyes on, told me bluntly that she loved the show but that I am far too thin for the part.

(Considering this is the first time I have ever been accused of being too thin, I refuse to take it as the genuine criticism the intended it to be!)

It's not my problem if people don't like me.

My overall success ultimately has nothing to do with an audience's opinion. Even a reviewer's.

I'm just baffled by how outspoken people have been and are being about their seeming disgust for this production.

Another fascinating aspect of the expectation is the constant comparison-- to other productions of this musical, to the movie, to other people who auditioned, to other musicals being produced in the area which have nothing to do with Les Mis and that have every right to receive praise and attention in their own right.

Our team is not comparing ourselves to any other local shows. Our cast is not saying we are the #1 show in the area. We do not think our show is the only one worth seeing, nor do we think the production value is so great that all other theaters pale by comparison. It's simply not true. There is beautiful, important work being produced all throughout the valley. The hype and expectation surrounding and unnecessary comparisons to Les Mis has, in most cases, generally been thrown at us, bewilderingly.

Ultimately, I am quite proud of the work we have done and the pains that have been taken to make this story accessible and as unique as the combination of center stage, over-familiar music, and details specific to the novel and script will allow. I'm proud that tickets are hard to come by. I'm proud that people have such strong opinions. If it were worthless drivel, no one would care to have strong opinions, which tells me there is value to this production.

We have had months of anticipation and criticism. I know over the next two months, we'll continue to receive direct criticism.

But when people applaud and rise to their feet before the last note of the show is finished being sung, suddenly--

--it's quite moving to be a part of a phenomenon.

i can do hard things

It's been a while since I posted.

More than a while.

I should have been updating for the last year, because things have been pretty great.

I was in four shows in 2013 and I directed one.

I signed with an agent and have done some acting jobs. I am an actor.

That one performed at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, so Ames and I went to England and Scotland and France and we saw a TON of theatre.

I held down a job (the same job) for more than a year and was rewarded with a shiny gold pin. This job supports me being an actor.

I also do Cross Fit now, which probably sounds really bad-a and I guess it is, even though I'm still kind of beginner-y. Someday I'll lift really heavy things, but in the meantime I just lift normal-weighted things.

For 2014 I'm trying to do this thing where I say "yes and" to the world. I'm trying to do hard things, self-actualize (my goal since 2009 and forever before then), and become an all-around good person. I want to be brave. I want to be kind. I want to be known for my kindness and not for unkindness or (worse) indifference.

I want to do hard things.

I'd also like to blog more because I miss blogging and it's something I should be doing, for myself and for posterity (mine or other peoples'). I have felt like I don't have much to say or anything interesting to write about or maybe I can't even write very well anymore at all, so I stopped. But I want to start writing again.

So I'm aiming to blog once a week about the hard things I've done-- hard for me, anyway. I'm sure my challenges are mostly lame and reek of privilege but it's my life and I want to make it my best one. A weekly self-empowerment wrap up.

SO-- this week I...

• Hugged people. I used to be a huggy person, but I haven't been for years for some reason. But I'm trying really hard to show physical affection for people, especially ones I like. So I hugged a lot of them. In some cases, I even hugged them a lot of times.
  
• Cried. The beginning of the week was hard for me, I guess you could say. I'm finding challenges in my life that I've not had to face before and frankly never thought I'd have to. Also being in the cast of Les Miserables has made me extremely sensitive-- I hope it's making me more compassionate. I don't want to be a crying baby all the time, but it's okay to feel things. Maybe I need to write about my feelings more so I can channel the feelings a little more.
  
• Went out for hours at a time with and around other humans not wearing eye makeup. This is literally something I have not done for years and it made me nervous for only one second. But you know, the crazy thing about exercising a lot and getting in touch with what's great about me, I don't really need the makeup. This is huge for me. And probably has much to do with the fact that I am pretty ugly in the show so clean skin without eye makeup really isn't all that bad after a whole day of purply dark circles under my eyes. A major achievement.
  
• Blogged. High five, blogosphere. I'm back.