Romeo and Juliet
This is one play that Geoffrey's not watching alone, even if it means keeping Duck backstage at his side throughout the entire thing. Part of it's because it's just too special to him, to them, and experiencing it alone just seems wrong. And part of it's that Geoffrey's nervous, more nervous than he was for the last couple of plays - he's taken a lot of chances with this one - and having Duck by his side just makes him feel that much steadier. All the work Duck put into the sets anyway, he deserves to be here watching the fruits of their labours.
He's a little worried about Kate, who's the one behind the stage puking in the bushes instead of Jack this time, but she assured him that she was up for this and Geoffrey believes her. This is her role, it could never have been anyone but her, and he knows that nothing is going to stop her or Jack from throwing themselves whole-heartedly into it.
Backstage is a mix of calm and chaos like it always is, some people pacing - Booth does not look happy and maybe Geoffrey should be a little more worried about that than he is - some people babbling, some people stretching and some - particularly children, Peter and Wednesday by name - getting themselves into trouble until someone tells them to sit down for about the fifth time. Arya, far from the trouble she'd gotten into with Wednesday previously, seems somewhat subdued, but Geoffrey chalks that up to looming teenagerdom.
But soon enough it's time for the play to start and Dairine - who in chaotic circumstances such as these Geoffrey trusts above most others - steps calmly onto the stage and delivers the opening lines.
It's both strange and comforting to think that he really does have a core group of actors now, people who stick with him through play after play. Bran, Evey, Arthur and even Sunny... they'll always have a place in anything he does. He sees them all up on stage in the opening scenes of the play and feels a sense of pride in how far they've all come.
The twenties theme had been something of a stretch, a bit of a risk, but Geoffrey knows what he was trying to say: that this story could happen anywhere, anytime. That it does happen, all the time. Angela's costumes, Duck's design and Peter's music all come together to convey a tangible sense of time and place. It's just what Geoffrey pictured in his head, and it's a revelation to finally see it on stage.
Jack's choreography for the fight scenes is good, solid, and not only is Geoffrey pleased he didn't have to take it on himself, he's pleased that Jack is confident enough in himself now to take the lead. And Evey... Geoffrey had known she could do this, be commanding, be a little larger than life. When he cast a female Mercutio he had it in mind that she'd have had a role model to make her into that kind of a strong woman, a role model like her kinswoman, Prince of Verona.
The play moves swiftly, breathlessly, even before Romeo and Juliet ever take the stage together, everything they've been working on for the past weeks finally coming together. Perhaps a bit too swiftly in parts, but there are no dropped lines, no mishaps more than faint stuttering or stumbling. Atia may not have been thrilled to be cast as the nurse (an understatement, Geoffrey knows), and her nurse might be one of the more uppity Geoffrey's seen on stage, but she's pulls it off with panache. Frankly, Geoffrey kind of enjoys the attitude, and it plays wonderfully against Daisy's Lady Capulet, who has the poise, dignity and attitude to match.
And so swiftly they come to one of what Geoffrey considers to be one of the pivotal moments in the play, one of the scenes that has to hit hard no matter what else happens.
He and Maladicta have worked hard on this one, and Geoffrey never had any doubt that it would pay off. And when the moment comes, Mercutio's Queen Mab speech, Mala nails it so hard and so thoroughly that Geoffrey is almost breathless. In his career as an actor and a director, he has rarely seen an actor inhabit a character quite that fully. It's the product of weeks of rehearsal, weeks of occasionally painful soul-searching, and it's worth every moment of it. As soon as he sees that, he knows she's going to nail the rest of the performance.
When John Wilkes Booth stumbles a little upon one of his entrances Geoffrey takes a moment to feel smug, but he's professional enough not to let it go any further than that. And it is just a stumble; Booth's clear frustration is working for him on stage, his Tybalt fierce, a counterpoint to Arthur's currently-sensible Capulet (which, of course, is itself a great part of the tragedy).
And what would Romeo and Juliet be without Romeo and Juliet? The play belongs to Jack and Kate the moment they finally meet on stage, the passion they portray occasionally overwhelming in its intensity. They're both giving it their all and you couldn't help but feel it, watching them together.
Geoffrey knows that when Lionel isn't on stage - which is most of the time - he's planning to take pictures of the production again. What he forgot was Kate mentioning to him that her new friend Vincent Van Gogh is going to be there too, and it's halfway through the play when he notices that there he is, right up front and drawing the play. While everything on the island is surreal, there are some things that are just extra surreal, and this is one of them.
Mercutio's death tears up the stage, Maladicta ripping into it with everything she has, the love in it almost palpable, and it's a monumental catalyst for everything that is to follow, as it needs to be. It sets in motion the tragedy of the rest of the play, and it's definitely up to the task. Tybalt's follows, and Geoffrey breathes a sigh of relief when it goes off without a hitch.
And here Kate brings on Juliet's youth, strength, hope and anguish in equal measure, making everyone believe, just for a moment, that what it to follow just might work. That this time, against the odds, against what they all know to be the story, that this time the plan might work. Jim's Friar sells it just as truly, the idea that this is a real chance at happiness in the face of all this death.
But of course, just as in thousands of previous interpretations, it isn't meant to be.
Chris Cutter has a very small part, but Geoffrey's amused to note that apparently he has a fan club who cheer his line with unexpected fervour. Geoffrey knows there are at least a few people on stage as a favour to him, and he hopes they know that he appreciates it. That he appreciates the work of everyone who helped bring this play to the stage.
And in the endgame, Wesley's Paris arrives with all due dignity and a firm belief that he is doing the right thing. It's heartbreaking in and of itself, that no one is spared in the spiralling tragedy of the play.
Romeo and Juliet's deaths are as heartbreaking as any Geoffrey's seen on stage, and if Geoffrey, who has seen dozens of different performances of Romeo and Juliet, can still be so affected it's a testament to both the text and those who perform it.
One of Geoffrey's real discoveries during this play has been Charles Gunn, who seemed a little reluctant to get involved at first, but when he did it was no holds barred. Seeing him sink his teeth into the role of Montague, particularly at the end, Geoffrey gives a lot more thought to tackling Othello as his next play. Now there's something he could really sink his teeth into.
It seems that not everyone is pleased with the play, based on the faint temper that Geoffrey hears from the audience during and following the last scenes, but any play that arouses those kinds of passions from the audience is a success on at least some level, he figures.
When it's all over, when the final bows are taken and the audience is cheering (or, in a few cases, weeping), when the Tabula Rasa Players have finished another successful performance, Geoffrey pulls Duck to him and kisses him thoroughly, right there in the wings, and just for a moment doesn't worry about anything else that's been going on lately. Just for a moment, everything's perfect.
[ ooc: go forth and gather! actors, crew, audience, friends, and anyone who might have heard a commotion. all are welcome! and if you haven't been mentioned by name in this narrative, rest assured that it's only because I was under time pressure and that you did a great job :) ]
He's a little worried about Kate, who's the one behind the stage puking in the bushes instead of Jack this time, but she assured him that she was up for this and Geoffrey believes her. This is her role, it could never have been anyone but her, and he knows that nothing is going to stop her or Jack from throwing themselves whole-heartedly into it.
Backstage is a mix of calm and chaos like it always is, some people pacing - Booth does not look happy and maybe Geoffrey should be a little more worried about that than he is - some people babbling, some people stretching and some - particularly children, Peter and Wednesday by name - getting themselves into trouble until someone tells them to sit down for about the fifth time. Arya, far from the trouble she'd gotten into with Wednesday previously, seems somewhat subdued, but Geoffrey chalks that up to looming teenagerdom.
But soon enough it's time for the play to start and Dairine - who in chaotic circumstances such as these Geoffrey trusts above most others - steps calmly onto the stage and delivers the opening lines.
It's both strange and comforting to think that he really does have a core group of actors now, people who stick with him through play after play. Bran, Evey, Arthur and even Sunny... they'll always have a place in anything he does. He sees them all up on stage in the opening scenes of the play and feels a sense of pride in how far they've all come.
The twenties theme had been something of a stretch, a bit of a risk, but Geoffrey knows what he was trying to say: that this story could happen anywhere, anytime. That it does happen, all the time. Angela's costumes, Duck's design and Peter's music all come together to convey a tangible sense of time and place. It's just what Geoffrey pictured in his head, and it's a revelation to finally see it on stage.
Jack's choreography for the fight scenes is good, solid, and not only is Geoffrey pleased he didn't have to take it on himself, he's pleased that Jack is confident enough in himself now to take the lead. And Evey... Geoffrey had known she could do this, be commanding, be a little larger than life. When he cast a female Mercutio he had it in mind that she'd have had a role model to make her into that kind of a strong woman, a role model like her kinswoman, Prince of Verona.
The play moves swiftly, breathlessly, even before Romeo and Juliet ever take the stage together, everything they've been working on for the past weeks finally coming together. Perhaps a bit too swiftly in parts, but there are no dropped lines, no mishaps more than faint stuttering or stumbling. Atia may not have been thrilled to be cast as the nurse (an understatement, Geoffrey knows), and her nurse might be one of the more uppity Geoffrey's seen on stage, but she's pulls it off with panache. Frankly, Geoffrey kind of enjoys the attitude, and it plays wonderfully against Daisy's Lady Capulet, who has the poise, dignity and attitude to match.
And so swiftly they come to one of what Geoffrey considers to be one of the pivotal moments in the play, one of the scenes that has to hit hard no matter what else happens.
He and Maladicta have worked hard on this one, and Geoffrey never had any doubt that it would pay off. And when the moment comes, Mercutio's Queen Mab speech, Mala nails it so hard and so thoroughly that Geoffrey is almost breathless. In his career as an actor and a director, he has rarely seen an actor inhabit a character quite that fully. It's the product of weeks of rehearsal, weeks of occasionally painful soul-searching, and it's worth every moment of it. As soon as he sees that, he knows she's going to nail the rest of the performance.
When John Wilkes Booth stumbles a little upon one of his entrances Geoffrey takes a moment to feel smug, but he's professional enough not to let it go any further than that. And it is just a stumble; Booth's clear frustration is working for him on stage, his Tybalt fierce, a counterpoint to Arthur's currently-sensible Capulet (which, of course, is itself a great part of the tragedy).
And what would Romeo and Juliet be without Romeo and Juliet? The play belongs to Jack and Kate the moment they finally meet on stage, the passion they portray occasionally overwhelming in its intensity. They're both giving it their all and you couldn't help but feel it, watching them together.
Geoffrey knows that when Lionel isn't on stage - which is most of the time - he's planning to take pictures of the production again. What he forgot was Kate mentioning to him that her new friend Vincent Van Gogh is going to be there too, and it's halfway through the play when he notices that there he is, right up front and drawing the play. While everything on the island is surreal, there are some things that are just extra surreal, and this is one of them.
Mercutio's death tears up the stage, Maladicta ripping into it with everything she has, the love in it almost palpable, and it's a monumental catalyst for everything that is to follow, as it needs to be. It sets in motion the tragedy of the rest of the play, and it's definitely up to the task. Tybalt's follows, and Geoffrey breathes a sigh of relief when it goes off without a hitch.
And here Kate brings on Juliet's youth, strength, hope and anguish in equal measure, making everyone believe, just for a moment, that what it to follow just might work. That this time, against the odds, against what they all know to be the story, that this time the plan might work. Jim's Friar sells it just as truly, the idea that this is a real chance at happiness in the face of all this death.
But of course, just as in thousands of previous interpretations, it isn't meant to be.
Chris Cutter has a very small part, but Geoffrey's amused to note that apparently he has a fan club who cheer his line with unexpected fervour. Geoffrey knows there are at least a few people on stage as a favour to him, and he hopes they know that he appreciates it. That he appreciates the work of everyone who helped bring this play to the stage.
And in the endgame, Wesley's Paris arrives with all due dignity and a firm belief that he is doing the right thing. It's heartbreaking in and of itself, that no one is spared in the spiralling tragedy of the play.
Romeo and Juliet's deaths are as heartbreaking as any Geoffrey's seen on stage, and if Geoffrey, who has seen dozens of different performances of Romeo and Juliet, can still be so affected it's a testament to both the text and those who perform it.
One of Geoffrey's real discoveries during this play has been Charles Gunn, who seemed a little reluctant to get involved at first, but when he did it was no holds barred. Seeing him sink his teeth into the role of Montague, particularly at the end, Geoffrey gives a lot more thought to tackling Othello as his next play. Now there's something he could really sink his teeth into.
It seems that not everyone is pleased with the play, based on the faint temper that Geoffrey hears from the audience during and following the last scenes, but any play that arouses those kinds of passions from the audience is a success on at least some level, he figures.
When it's all over, when the final bows are taken and the audience is cheering (or, in a few cases, weeping), when the Tabula Rasa Players have finished another successful performance, Geoffrey pulls Duck to him and kisses him thoroughly, right there in the wings, and just for a moment doesn't worry about anything else that's been going on lately. Just for a moment, everything's perfect.
[ ooc: go forth and gather! actors, crew, audience, friends, and anyone who might have heard a commotion. all are welcome! and if you haven't been mentioned by name in this narrative, rest assured that it's only because I was under time pressure and that you did a great job :) ]