Four Andres – But No Funeral

Tuesday, February 14: T-Minus 1 day.

Back to my discussion of Sam and Dede, Versions 1.0-1.3

When we did the show the first time, the plan was that (if only because the director was coming in from New York) we’d have a shorter-than-usual rehearsal time; about three weeks, which meant that, unlike what is usual for me, we were going to come in with our lines learned (“off book”). The play has only the two actors, and even though the script is just over 140 pages, the playing time is less than 90 minutes. With those circumstances, I’d think four or five weeks would be normal, but this wasn’t going to be normal (more than I’d have even guessed, as it turned out … ).

The show wasn’t going to open until February 11, but beginning the November before, the original* Andre and I met about once a week to read through the script, get to know each other, and start the process of getting off book. This actually went pretty well. He’s a great guy, we had fun, and we were actually learning the script (which was/is not easy, given that some of it seems at first glance to be full of non sequiturs. We managed to devise through-lines, though, and there is an internal logic that, once found, is relatively easy to convey).

Leah, our director, arrived, and we started the actual process of table work (literally sitting around a table and reading and discussing the text and subtext) and blocking (which was relatively easy, especially since the first few scenes basically consist of Andre and Sam sitting next to each other in the cab of the truck). Things were going well until about a week and a half before we opened.

There are a number of theatre companies here in the greater Bay Area, so many so that Theatre Bay Area holds an annual general audition to allow the majority of those companies to see hundreds of actors at one time. I’ve done the TBA Generals for, I think, three years now, but unfortunately, they haven’t paid off. (I’ve gotten nibbles and offers, but they invariably come in slots for which I’m already doing something. I persevere, though … )

In 2016, my audition fell on the afternoon of Saturday, January 30^th (a date that is burned into my memory). Even though I screwed up the time of the audition and missed my original slot, they got me in. Since the theatre where the auditions are held is a block from the theatre where we did the show, my plan was to do my monologue, change out of my suit into street clothes, and go to rehearsal. 

Who wouldn't cast this guy?

A lot of people ...

I did the monologue (it went pretty well; not great) and started to leave the theatre, only to get a message from Beth, our stage manager, saying I shouldn’t come to rehearsal since Andre was sick as a dog and had to be sent home. He’d had a cough for a few days, but I hadn’t thought it was that serious. (Turned out to be pneumonia.)

Since I was virtually at the theatre, I went in and we talked over the situation and contingency plans, and eventually decided that we’d do a kind of run-though that involved Beth playing Andre and me playing Sam, natch.

Despite the possibility that the afternoon could have been a disaster, it was actually great—and extremely helpful in helping me get more solid in my lines. (Beth is a great Andre; maybe not as good as my wife, but good.) The “no Andre” problem remained, though, in that we were 12 days from opening and likely without another actor. After three hours or so of this rehearsal, we broke and made plans to meet Sunday, hopefully full-staffed. That hope was not to be, though. He was still ailing, so Beth and I rehearsed again, and contingency plans started to become more serious.

Monday dawned with hope, but those hopes were dashed when he was still sick and it was decided that I’d spend the evening working with Jon, our fight coordinator (there is a tiny bit of “wrestling” in the show). Jon had read the role in an early reading of the play, so he was at least familiar with it, so he became (as far as I was concerned) Andre #2. It was not the best rehearsal, though, as some of my acting went out the window (he was fine).

Somewhere during all of this tzuris, negotiations were being negotiated and plans were being planned by the company’s executive staff, and it was decided that, at great expense, Brendan Averett, a marvelous actor who had played Andre in a reading of the play in New York, would be flown out to play the part (becoming Andre #3). The final trigger was pulled sometime Monday, so Brendan would fly out on Tuesday (I’d be given the day off), and we’d start working on Wednesday. This meant that he’d have eight days to learn the script and blocking and get ready to open. I don’t know if I would have been able to do it, and I didn’t envy what he had ahead of him.

In those days, I was working at a startup that went belly-up (and which still owes me something like $10,000 in back wages … ), but I realized that the only way any of this was going to happen was for me to either call in sick or just take the day off and go in and rehearse all day. (I will say that I got sick to death of climbing the stairs in that building. It felt like I never left—especially in light of what was going to happen after we opened.)

Wednesday dawned, as it does, and we set in to working, first reading, then blocking, then running. Despite the intensity, it all went by in a blur, and, as we had to, eight days later, we opened. How Brendan did it, I have no idea. I know that, in the 80s, I went into a show on about ten days’ notice, and realized only after taking the part that my character came on and basically didn’t shut up for 50 pages. In those days, I could memorize 50 pages in just a few days. Nowadays, it’s not so easy. Even after weeks of rehearsal, three weeks of performance, and a few recent months of going over the script, there are still moments that give me pause. (I remember one tech rehearsal with Brendan where we were sitting in the “car” and I turned to him and said “I have no idea where we are.”)

Brendan and me in the car. Despite my expression, I am 

neither constipated nor trying to remember my lines.

We did indeed open, and the run went very well, but looming over everything was the fact that we knew from the beginning that, due to a prior commitment, Brendan could play only the first two weeks of the run, which meant that, as soon as we opened, I had to go back into rehearsal with his understudy/replacement, Andre #4.

More to come …

(*Note the “original;” it’ll soon loom large.)