Kids and Dogs

There’s an old saying in theater:  “Never work with kids or animals.”  Honestly, I don’t know what these people are talking about.

Take this production of The Music Man I’m rehearsing for right now.  The roles of Winthrop and Amaryllis are double cast which means that I am working with four kids between the ages of 8 and 10.  These children are remarkable.  They are like little sponges.  All four of them have been off book since their first rehearsals. They know their lines, they know their songs, they remember blocking and choreography.

One of our Winthrops is being played by a girl, but no matter.  She has figured out exactly who Winthrop is, and was explaining his “intention” to me during one of his scenes.  Both of our Amaryllises (Amarylli?) are juggling their roles with other performances.  One is also in rehearsal for her role in A Chorus Line Jr. performing “Noses and Butts” (which was, um, something else in the original show).  The other was gone from rehearsal for about a week because she was busy playing one of the orphans in the Pittsburgh CLO’s production of Annie.  Yes, that right – she is performing with star-of-stage-and-screen Sally Struthers one week and with me the next. 

Not only are these four utterly prepared and quasi-professional, they are just the nicest kids you might want to meet.  They are polite and respectful, yet friendly and charming. And they are all just SO cute!

Dogs are another story altogether.  The townspeople of River City don’t let their dogs on stage, but I have worked with some pretty fetching canines in the past (no pun intended).

When I was in Cheating Cheaters, (one of John Patrick’s more minor works) I worked with Pirate, a HUGE Newfoundland whose resume (and program bio) were also large – much larger than mine, in fact.  Pirate was adorable and sweet, and along with stealing the show, he also very much stole the heart of the theater director/stage manager, who went so far as to build him a ramp because his hip dysplasia made the few steps from the green room to the stage difficult for him to maneuver.  “Well, I‘ve done as much for actors,” she explained tersely to anyone who questioned her.

That’s the thing about kids and dogs -they are going to steal the show and people’s hearts. 

Maybe that’s why I’m not supposed to want to act with them, but honestly, what do I care?   Goodness knows I’ve been upstaged by adults before, some of whom didn’t even remember their lines.  If the kid or the dog is a pleasure to work with and is reliable, that’s good enough for me.  If I don’t have to improvise on stage, they can HAVE the scene.

Getting My Irish Up

The Music Man and I go way back.

I grew up watching the 1962 movie version which starred Ronny Howard as Winthrop.  Ronny also starred as Opie in The Andy Griffith Show, and was one of my favorite TV stars. Of course, The Music Man also starred Robert Preston and Shirley Jones, and while I came to the party for Ronny, I fell in love with everything about The Music Man.  

My favorite character was Marian, and I owned the movie soundtrack, which I listened to over and over again.  I would sing “Goodnight My Someone” along with Marian and Amaryllis, fantasizing about my future someone and the idea of playing Marian someday.  I was kind of a world class fantasizer as a kid; too bad they didn’t hand out awards or grades for that sort of thing.

I went on to enjoy The Music Man on stage several times over the years, including a professional production  put on by the Pittsburgh CLO in the gone-now-but-never-forgotten Civic Arena, starring Gary Collins as Harold Hill and his real-life wife Mary Ann Mobley as Marian.  My admiration for the show just grew.

The Music Man was the first musical and second show I was cast in in 1998 after I decided to take up performing in community theater as a hobby on a middle-aged whim.  I was thrilled to be a Pick-a-Little Lady in Stage 62’s production, which featured a cast of 69, ranging in age from 9 months old to late 70’s.  I never remembered having more fun than I had doing that show, I made a couple of dozen good friends, and I was pretty much hooked on community theater as a hobby ever since.

So, when I found out that RMU Summer Colonial Theatre was planning to do The Music Man this summer, I was beyond thrilled.  While I generally don’t go into an audition with designs on any particular part, and I love the show so much that I would be happy playing a lamp post, I nonetheless like to prepare for auditions so that the director might be able to see me in a part that I might be able to play.

In the case of The Music Man, one of the older female characters was Mrs. Paroo, Marian’s mother, and she had a thick Irish accent.  So, obviously, this meant that I needed to channel my inner Irishwoman for the audition, and use an Irish accent during the cold readings.

The only problem was that I don’t really have an inner Irishwoman (funny, my inner bitch is always right there waiting to come out for a part) or an Irish accent, or a knack for dialects at all, so this was a little more complicated than I first thought.  I borrowed my husband’s “Foreign Dialects” book.  I listened to every You-Tube recording of the late, great Pert Kelton who originated the role on Broadway and played it in the movie.  I went on line and downloaded every bit of Mrs. Paroo’s dialogue that I could find, and I practiced and practiced.

A funny thing happened on the way to the audition.  I realized that I loved Mrs. Paroo, and really, really wanted to play the part.  This was ironic because I didn’t feel like my Irish accent was terribly strong, and figured I wouldn’t get the part anyway.  Of course, the cold reading was a scene that I hadn’t found on-line, so I was winging it.

Okay, now for the happy ending.  I got the part.  Obviously, Barbara, our esteemed director, saw my potential, or something.  Whatever, I am grateful to her, and am having a wonderful time preparing to play Mrs. Paroo, the most delightful Irishwoman ever written for stage or screen.  Oh, and I am playing the mother of Winthrop (who first brought me to the show) and Marian (who I fantasized about playing when I was a kid).  Theatrically, it doesn’t get any better than this.