This whole rehearsal period, we've been on track with line memorization and learning blocking. The lady who came to watch the show during a dress rehearsal told us this show was way more on track than she had ever seen a show this close to opening. Which is the miracle of theatre, really. Some how on opening night, things just fall into place. Nobody can explain it. It just does.
But once in awhile, something happens backstage that makes you wonder how you could even finish the show that night.
Death By Chocolate opened April 19th. It was Friday. It was an excellent show (they all are, you should come see it!) that night. Everything went according to plan. This run was going to be normal and uneventful. But I forgot one thing. There is no such thing as normal and uneventful in my life. Ever.
The next night, the man playing Henry Meadowbrook (my play is a murder mystery and he is the first to die. No, it isn't a spoiler to say that because it's the first thing that happens.) fell down the stairs at the theatre. He hit his head pretty dang hard. So hard, he didn't even know his name for about two minutes. An ambulance was called. I got off stage, came downstairs, and there was a police officer coming in the door. Then the woman playing Anne pulls me aside and says, "Henry fell down the stairs. We've called an ambulance."
Whaaaat? I know. It's crazy, right? As more and more people started arriving, I stayed out of the way. I probably had to go back on stage, too.
Our director was backstage trying to ask him what had happened. He said he fell, but he really didn't remember what happened before he fell. He still doesn't. Our director went with him to the hospital and she said that he did not have any injuries in his wrists or hands. That indicates that he passed out when he fell because he did not try to stop his fall. That's not normal. Stopping your fall is basic instinct.
After the show, a few of us went to visit him in the hospital. He had a baseball sized bump on his head and a cut on his knee. Monday (the next show), we were informed that he had broken two ribs.
Last night, we were given an update on his condition. He says he is very sore and recovering well otherwise. He still doesn't know what happened.
So much for a normal, uneventful run. The show must go on as they say and luckily one of the board members at the Heritage Theatre (also an actor and director) stepped up to the challenge of dieing the rest of the run. He said he made a funny mistake though. When Henry was in the hospital, he said to him, "Don't worry, Henry. I'm going to die on Monday." Henry was upset by this for a moment, but Henry 2 realized what he had said and, responded, "In the play! I mean in the play!"
Ahh. Life. What unexpected adventure do you have planned for me next? Dun dun Duuuuunnnn!
....TO BE CONTINUED....
Until then, enjoy a few of the pictures I took during our rehearsals!
Lady Riverdale. Not someone to mess with, really.
Margaret Daniels. The savvy reporter trying to get he scoop on the Meadowbrook Health Resort.
Ralf Deadwood. The mean-spirited gym manager.
Edith Chiles and John Stone. The cook and the health resort manager.
Alfred. "Yes, this is the enlightened generation, isn't it?"
"Something is going on here and I want to find out what it is!"
"No, Lady Riverdale! Don't shoot. I'll leave."
John Stone and Ed Parlor. The mystery play writer. "This isn't a play, Parlor!"
Sweet Pea Meadowbrook. The beautiful daughter of Henry Meadowbrook.
"Why does she have to eat all the time?"
"I'm working my way up to a major dramatic award with this!"
Only five more performances are left! Come see this show!