24HPP '1 - "The Water's Fine." Part II: Nothing like a virgin sacrifice to start the evening right.
Ah, Hamline University, I just can't quitcha. This year's performances were at Hamline's Anne Simley Theater, which is a lovely space. The artists had name tags this year, which was supposed to be so the writers and directors could find each other, but mostly just made us look cool.
Nichole and I had speculated that our play might be last, because it had a nice "wrapping things up" feel, but I was equally pleased to open my program and see that we were up first.
I missed the awesome music we've had in past years; every play but one was preceded, inexplicably, by Madonna singing about loving New York. But when Kira Pontiff took the stage as Penelope, the music ceased to matter. My first thought was, Nice toga. My second was, Damn. We wrote this character a lot of words. But actors act, and once she was past the first mouthful of monologue, she was golden.
Then the goddesses arrived. Renee Werbowski was the classiest dame ever as Athena. I felt greatly absolved watching her; she played one of the "proctors" in "The Vengeance Exam", so I was proud to give her something better to do.
And then Muriel Bonertz showed up as Demeter. Muriel Bonertz! Drunkenly spewing Casablanca quotes! In my play!! (Somebody stop me before I run out of exclamation marks!!!). Seriously. They were amazing, and Werbowski and Bonertz's rapport was a treat to watch. Director Alexandra Gould and the cast found humor in the piece that even we hadn't noticed, and although several lines Nichole and I envisioned as being serious were played for laughs, as well, I didn't feel like the play suffered for it. My only regret was that we hadn't thought to give Athena a line suggesting that Penelope take up weaving.
Not much to tell about the rest of the night. TU has scaled back the 24HPP--no emcee, no silent auction or fancy hors d'oeuvres (all of that's been moved to their February benefit), so we were in and out in record time--once we had picked ourselves out of the aisles after the last piece of the night, viajes's brilliant "The Game Show" (co-written by Ben Egerman). I could've watched that one a dozen more times. I want to throw myself at Mame Pelletier's feet. No joke.
And so, that was that. All that's left are the memories--and this kick-ass name tag that says "Eli Effinger-Weintraub, playwright". I'm trying to decide whether I want to frame it and put in on my desk or tape it to my laptop so I get the reminder every time I open the damned thing.