One of the things I’m always hammering dancers about is that they can make it all look entirely too easy. For those of us that don’t know better, it sometimes looks like they’re barely trying. But the same can be true in theatre.
I’m here to dispel that myth.
I saw the Friday night performance of Alfred Uhry’s musical Parade (based on a true story). As performed by the Magic City Actors Theatre and the University of Montevallo at the Virginia Samford Theatre.
Let’s unpack the last paragraph – and note all those hyperlinks. Uhry, the author (also responsible for Driving Miss Daisy) probably spent at least a few months (and possibly years) writing his part of Parade. Then he tossed it over to his buddy Jason Robert Brown to ink it and bake it into a viable, listenable musical. This also likely took many months. Just to give you something to hold onto, it’s kind-of an earnest mix between To Kill a Mockingbird, Annie Hall, and Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.
Before landing in Birmingham for its Alabama premiere, this creation bounced around Broadway, Australia, Europe, and the rest of America between around 1998 and 2009. I can just imagine the behind-the-scenes conversation amongst the top ‘ham theatre brass several months ago:
“Let’s get a musical for fall of 2009.” “Which one?” “How about Parade?”
The program lists thirty-two cast members. This production used a ten-piece orchestra. The listed (and too-oft-overlooked) production staff includes twenty-three named individuals, plus (I think) four different Montevallo college classes (Fall ‘09 Theatre 101 & 307 Applied, Costume Construction I, and Applied Theatre Costume; immortalized forever here on the internets – BFF, y’all). Not to mention the six names mentioned with regard to the business side of the VST itself. Since artsy people can’t do math, I’ll use my little computer calculator to sum it. I count over seventy local people responsible for just these six Birmingham performances.
And I love you all the same. But I’m almost required to touch on something specific. Nick Crawford is notably good as Rosser the blusterful good ol’ boy lawyer. Stephen French has possibly the brightest and most entertaining moments onstage as reporter Britt Craig. Kristen Bowden Sharp makes for an attentive and attractive “iron hand in the velvet glove” wife. Cameron S. White is well-featured as Conley the convict. Also, Grant Bowen may have had the purest vocal moments in places somewhere between “The Picture Show” and “There is a Fountain/It Don’t Make Sense”.
Okay, so we’ve got thirty-two actors with varying skills – some sing real good, some dance real good, some act real good – all leading up to and going into this performance. Years of training. And you can’t learn to play a musical instrument overnight. Just ask the parent of any toddler whose friends or family thought it would be a brilliant idea to begift him a drum set.
Now let’s elaborate on a practice schedule. My inside information seems to say that they’ve been rehearsing this beast since at least early October. So to provide something like twenty-one hours of performances for an audience’s entertainment and enlightenment (six shows and a preview?), something like seventy-something people juggled a practice schedule over all these nights and weekends for a period of at least a month, in addition to need-to-eat-to-live other work, studies and tests, happy beers with friends (except for the underage), and long-suffering spouses and family. I’m guessing most of you also rememberized and recited and sang and danced in front of a mirror when no one was looking.
Does this prove that performers might be the teensiest bit irrational? Caution: may contain peanuts. Or is all that irrational work – in itself – a beautiful thing to be encouraged, recognized, and applauded? The fact that stagecraft blooms at all is a tribute to some corner of our souls where it’s perpetually springtime.
Should performances feature an ingredients label somewhere? Something like: “Actor X gave over a hundred hours of time to participate. Several nights she was late feeding her loyal dog, she often shot up at 4 a.m. with Parade music running through her head, and she missed an awful lot of CSI:Whereever. All so you could enjoy this show. So do so, okay?” Would we appreciate it even more if they did?
Thanks very much to the MCAT, Montevallo, the VST, and Leah Faulkner for letting me in.