picture: Lou Dina

“You’ve got to have a few bad habits to rely on when things with women go wrong.” -Bus Stop

That kind of statement drives character.  What do we know about a person who would say that?  Probably a man – not a kid.  Someone with some real-world experience, likely some heartbreak, and some bad habits.  Maybe a person who’s not on the right side of the moral fence all the time.  Not a sunny-eyed optimist.

When a writer builds a character, every word in a script offers another “dot” for an actor or director to try and connect.  Some scripts are really “tight” – maybe like David Auburn’s Proof – and the words themselves offer a fully fleshed-out character for the action and the performance.  Although I haven’t read Bus Stop, some scripts seem looser and more open to interpretation.  As a parallel, songs work the same way.  Some you’ve got to sing exactly like the original, but there is music – Brown Eyed Girl comes to mind (“Hey there, Rodrigo”) – that offers worlds of “space” for improvisation and play.

Since I mentioned improvisation, I recently saw the Extemporaneous Theatre Company’s To Mock a Killing Bird show.  (If you don’t know, that’s our local improv troupe, and I highly recommend them.)  For shows like that one – an improvised murder mystery – each of the performers sketches out a character and sticks to it throughout the show.  In every show, we get to watch these personas get developed on stage, right before our eyes.  Some bloom into full-blown (and very funny) people, but occasionally, promising characters drift into difficult and unfunny dead-ends.  Much like off-stage life, you can get boxed in by your own decisions in certain circumstances.

Non-improvised characters can too.  Add the right touches and everyone gets rewarded with that satisfying feeling of watching the ball sail off the bat.  Miss ‘em, and you’ll just get a thunk – and another 6-3 groundout.

The Birmingham Festival Theatre’s version of Bus Stop, written by William Inge, sails off the bat.  It’s probably the best and most entertaining performance I’ve seen at the Birmingham Festival Theatre.  The play is almost like Gilligan’s Island – people from all walks of life who get stranded for one night in a bus stop diner.  There’s a Professor, a Ginger, a Maryann, a Sheriff-Skipper, and some Cowboys.  They interact in funny, romantic, and occasionally moving ways.  There’s a fistfight and some kissing.  But no cheese…

Directed by Ward Haarbauer, the dots get connected in such a way that it works.  The juiciest parts probably go to actors Tavi Juarez, Holly Croney Dikeman, Gordon Pate, and Ron Bourdages.  Juarez represents a dowdied-up “Maryann”-type waitress, but, brimming with youthful enthusiasm, she’s hard not to watch.  I think the film version was famous for casting the almost unfollowable Marilyn Monroe as Cherie, but Dikeman’s got her own chirpity charisma and big, blue-shadowed eyes.  The most intriguing subplot is between Pate, the “Professor”, and the underage waitress, and I think those dots could’ve been connected in a hundred different ways, from creep-out to sugary-sweet.  Finally, Bourdages plays Virgil Blessing (good name!) and his contribution greatly exceeds his lines – plus, he plays guitar onstage and wrote a song for the performance.

Once again, thanks to the Birmingham Festival Theatre for admitting me and letting me write a piece about this well-acted show.  “I’ve always exercised excellent taste, if not the best judgment.”