The Director Sector

A few months ago, we were right smack in the middle of rehearsals for Fiddler on the Roof.  Our director, a good friend of mine, was trying to be considerate.  He understood that people our age wanted to socialize and party and very few people wanted to sit around doing nothing while someone else worked.

He knew that all too often at rehearsals, one or two people are on stage acting or working with the director, and the rest of the cast is sitting around with nothing to do.  He wanted to minimize this sort of thing.  Unfortunately, most of his rehearsal time required being hands-on with the actors along with the choreographer.  There was no one else to work with the rest of the cast.

So what did he do?

He scheduled the rehearsals in such a way that only those who were required to be there were present.  The rest of us had the evenings off while those scenes were being rehearsed.  I think most of us spent maybe 2 or 3 nights per week in rehearsal, two to three hours per night.  This was incredibly different from my previous experiences, where I often spent 5 nights per week, 3 to 4 hours per night in rehearsal.

Yet each night we rehearsed for Fiddler, I heard the same grumblings.

“Is it time to go yet?”
“He said we’d be able to leave at 9pm, and it’s 9:10pm.”
“God, why can’t we go?”
“I’m so bored.  I hate just standing around.”

These comments just blew my mind.  What were they complaining about?  They only had to show up for six hours a week!

Me? I wanted to be there.  There was nowhere else I’d rather be than on stage.  I just kept thinking to myself how silly these kids were acting.

“Why are you here?” I thought.  “Why volunteer to be in a show if you don’t want to do it?  Don’t you understand that this is part of the process?  If you’d rather go party with your friends, then go party with your friends!”

A few years ago I did a show called The Curse of the Porcupine’s Ear.  It was my first (and only, so far) lead role as the most memorable character I’ll ever play — a deranged forest ranger named Ranger Bob, who thought he was some sort of undercover agent in a battle against evil.  In Curse, there were three leads — myself, Steve and Lisa.  The three of us were on every single page of the 100+ page script.  The rest of the cast didn’t show up until the second act — two of them didn’t actually have any lines, and two others showed up in the last ten minutes of the 2 hour long play.

Lisa, Steve and I would meet at 3:30 or 4:00 each afternoon and run lines together.  We had three weeks to learn 100+ pages of dialogue.  We ran lines til 5:30, where we’d quickly run to McDonald’s or Sonic and grab a burger and fries and head back to the theatre for rehearsal at 6:00.  Doc, our director and the playwright of this zany play, would work with us til 8:00 or 9:00.  At that point, we’d move over to Steve’s apartment and run lines again until 1:00 or 2:00am.

I literally spent between 8 and 11 hours per day working on that show, and I have to tell you, it was the time of my life.  I was working with a fantastic cast that just really clicked with each other, the script was hilariously funny and well-done, and I had a great time.  On the days when we didn’t rehearse, I felt like something was missing.  There was truly nowhere else I’d rather be than at the theatre.

Even shows like Fiddler stoke that excitement within me.  As boring as Fiddler was (and let’s admit it, it’s quite boring, despite some catchy songs), I really enjoyed the camraderie and fellowship of working with that group of people for the last time.  I really enjoyed learning the songs, the choreography.  I loved jumping into a character and becoming that beggar.

So to those of you who hate the rehearsal process, who’d rather be out partying with your friends than sitting around on stage waiting for direction, ask yourself this:  why do you do it?  If you truly would rather be somewhere else… then go!

I know where my home is.  Go find yours.