Think About It Halloween Party: Murder Most Fouled Up
I have worn a great many hats during my time in the theater. Actor, writer, director, breaker of hearts on casting couches coast to coast... but tonight begins my newest efffort -- that of producer for the Thibodaux Playhouse's latest venture. Tonight at 7:30 we launch a seasonably spooky little yarn called Murder Most Fouled Up.
It's a tale as old as time, folks. Jason Randolph (Mike Mechanick), his wife Barbara (Lauren Erwin) and sister Kya (Connie LaBouef) are called to the reading of poor, late Uncle Edwin's will. Edwin, as it turns out, had some out-there ideas about how to divide his esate... but none of them will get a cent if they can't find where in the family mansion he's hidden the money in the next 24 hours. Helping in the search are a by-the-book lawyer (Dwayne Matherne), a wizened butler (Charles Savoy) and a goofy housekeeper (Tory Danos). But that's not all... the play also includes a trio of ghostly Randolph ancestors (Earl LeBlanc, Lana Lawrence and Effie Lantia), trapped in the house since they all killed each other pursuing the inheritance, determined to help their still-living kinfolk find the loot so they can have peace at last... if they can keep them from killing each other in the process.
The Playhouse board of directors didn't consciously choose a ghost story for our October production, but how cool is it that things worked out that way? I had initially hoped to audition for the play myself, but when auditions rolled around I was still seeking more permanent employment than my most recent substitute teaching gig, I decided to pass. Barely a week later, though, I got a new job shaping and molding young minds into hardened instruments of destruction (don't get snippy, most of them were headed in that direction anyway). Once it was clear that I had a gig which would leave my nights open the director -- who happened to be my old pal Ronée, asked if I would be willing to produce the show for her. I'd never produced a play before, and I had just accepted a new job slightly more demanding than a bomb squad field technician (although admittedly slightly less dangerous), but I figured, "Hey, how hard could it be?"
I have learned, friends, that one should never ask the question "How hard could it be?" because one will almost certainly be given an answer.
The job of producing in a little theatre like ours is very different from the job in Mel Brooks' documentary motion picture, Broadway musical and motion picture musical that made the job famous (Blazing Saddles). In a big theatrical production, the producer is the one who shells out the money, seeks investors, hires the director and schmoozes all of the people who require the appropriate amount of schmoozing. In a little theater, things are different. The producer is (and I apologize in advance for my bluntness) the director's "biatch." We do whatever it is the director needs done to get the show on the road. My biggest responsibility, for example, was locating a good desk to use in our set because the one Dwayne was passing out on in rehearsal was made of three pieces of balsa wood held together by chewing gum. I handled the tickets for the cast, I helped out on the set as much as possible... basically, once the insanity of my sister's wedding was over and I had some time back, I made myself available to do whatever Ronée needed me for, up to and including fetching her cigarettes when an actor forgot his lines a week before opening night.
Ronée is a worrier, I know, but she's also a great director, and I had no doubt that she would pull the cast together and put on a fantastic show. And (as has been the case since the dawn of civilization) I was absolutely right. These guys are funny. These guys are outright hysterical. I've seen the show about a dozen times at this point in various stages of polish, but at last night's audience dress rehearsal, I was laughing as loudly as everyone else. Among the many inspired moments of Ronée's little production:
Transforming sweet, innocent Effie into the kneeslapping ballbuster you'll see on stage.
Digging up Mike Mechanick -- one of the funniest physical comedians I've ever met.
Casting Tory Danos -- a funny guy and fine performer -- as Mrs. Jessel, the ugliest housekeeper you'll ever meet.
Finding Lauren's inner gold digger (not a slight against her, we've all got one) and bringing it to the surface.
Casting her eight-year-old daughter as the voice of "the Raven," which resulted in a cry of, "That's ME, granny!" at the audience dress rehearsal.
And, of course, letting me stay on as producer despite the fact that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.
The show is tonight and tomorrow at 7:30 p.m., then October 12, 13 and 14 at 7:30, with a 2 p.m. matinee on October 15 to close it off. If you're looking for a little Halloween fun, guys, round up the family and head to the Thibodaux Playhouse. For ticket information, call 985-446-1896. And be ready to laugh.
Blake M. Petit may not be a natural producer, but just let him review a comic book or two. Man's got skillz. Contact him with comments or suggestions at BlakePT@cox.net, visit him on the web at Evertime Realms, or visit the Evertime Livejournal, blakemp.
It's a tale as old as time, folks. Jason Randolph (Mike Mechanick), his wife Barbara (Lauren Erwin) and sister Kya (Connie LaBouef) are called to the reading of poor, late Uncle Edwin's will. Edwin, as it turns out, had some out-there ideas about how to divide his esate... but none of them will get a cent if they can't find where in the family mansion he's hidden the money in the next 24 hours. Helping in the search are a by-the-book lawyer (Dwayne Matherne), a wizened butler (Charles Savoy) and a goofy housekeeper (Tory Danos). But that's not all... the play also includes a trio of ghostly Randolph ancestors (Earl LeBlanc, Lana Lawrence and Effie Lantia), trapped in the house since they all killed each other pursuing the inheritance, determined to help their still-living kinfolk find the loot so they can have peace at last... if they can keep them from killing each other in the process.
The Playhouse board of directors didn't consciously choose a ghost story for our October production, but how cool is it that things worked out that way? I had initially hoped to audition for the play myself, but when auditions rolled around I was still seeking more permanent employment than my most recent substitute teaching gig, I decided to pass. Barely a week later, though, I got a new job shaping and molding young minds into hardened instruments of destruction (don't get snippy, most of them were headed in that direction anyway). Once it was clear that I had a gig which would leave my nights open the director -- who happened to be my old pal Ronée, asked if I would be willing to produce the show for her. I'd never produced a play before, and I had just accepted a new job slightly more demanding than a bomb squad field technician (although admittedly slightly less dangerous), but I figured, "Hey, how hard could it be?"
I have learned, friends, that one should never ask the question "How hard could it be?" because one will almost certainly be given an answer.
The job of producing in a little theatre like ours is very different from the job in Mel Brooks' documentary motion picture, Broadway musical and motion picture musical that made the job famous (Blazing Saddles). In a big theatrical production, the producer is the one who shells out the money, seeks investors, hires the director and schmoozes all of the people who require the appropriate amount of schmoozing. In a little theater, things are different. The producer is (and I apologize in advance for my bluntness) the director's "biatch." We do whatever it is the director needs done to get the show on the road. My biggest responsibility, for example, was locating a good desk to use in our set because the one Dwayne was passing out on in rehearsal was made of three pieces of balsa wood held together by chewing gum. I handled the tickets for the cast, I helped out on the set as much as possible... basically, once the insanity of my sister's wedding was over and I had some time back, I made myself available to do whatever Ronée needed me for, up to and including fetching her cigarettes when an actor forgot his lines a week before opening night.
Ronée is a worrier, I know, but she's also a great director, and I had no doubt that she would pull the cast together and put on a fantastic show. And (as has been the case since the dawn of civilization) I was absolutely right. These guys are funny. These guys are outright hysterical. I've seen the show about a dozen times at this point in various stages of polish, but at last night's audience dress rehearsal, I was laughing as loudly as everyone else. Among the many inspired moments of Ronée's little production:
Transforming sweet, innocent Effie into the kneeslapping ballbuster you'll see on stage.
Digging up Mike Mechanick -- one of the funniest physical comedians I've ever met.
Casting Tory Danos -- a funny guy and fine performer -- as Mrs. Jessel, the ugliest housekeeper you'll ever meet.
Finding Lauren's inner gold digger (not a slight against her, we've all got one) and bringing it to the surface.
Casting her eight-year-old daughter as the voice of "the Raven," which resulted in a cry of, "That's ME, granny!" at the audience dress rehearsal.
And, of course, letting me stay on as producer despite the fact that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.
The show is tonight and tomorrow at 7:30 p.m., then October 12, 13 and 14 at 7:30, with a 2 p.m. matinee on October 15 to close it off. If you're looking for a little Halloween fun, guys, round up the family and head to the Thibodaux Playhouse. For ticket information, call 985-446-1896. And be ready to laugh.
Blake M. Petit may not be a natural producer, but just let him review a comic book or two. Man's got skillz. Contact him with comments or suggestions at BlakePT@cox.net, visit him on the web at Evertime Realms, or visit the Evertime Livejournal, blakemp.