“The glory of God is man fully
alive.”
St. Irenaeus
BERT HEALY
“But,
still, remember folks.”
WACKY
“Smile,
darn ya smile.”
from
Annie
 |
| These girls bring it |
Tonight,
the final curtain closes on the Red Barn Theater's (RBT) production
of Annie.
Since June 9, the rest of my cast mates and I have been driving up to
“the Barn” for rehearsals and, for the last nine nights,
performances. Tonight's show will mark number ten. With only one
exception, we've been honored with standing “O's” every night.
(Personally, I'm of the opinion that no matter how Daddy Warbucks,
Hannigan or Rooster do the orphans save us every night. They're just
so dang cute who wouldn't give a rousing ovation for them?) Hannah C,
who plays Annie, has done just an outstanding job along with her
fellow orphans from the New York Municipal Orphanage.
 |
| I'm the mug in the middle |
For me, I've had the blessing of playing Rooster, my first real
villain role. In '08, I was blessed to play Fagin in the RBT's
production of “Oliver!” and in '09, Mayor Shinn in “Music Man”.
Fagin is a thief with a heart of gold and Shinn is but a blowhard.
But Rooster? There's just nothing redeeming about him (okay, the
audience loves the Rooster – when in doubt, crow louder is my
motto). But in the end the crowd loves it when he, Lily and Hannigan
get their comeuppance.
The long and short of it is I've had a lot of fun.
SCENES FROM "THE GREEN ROOM"
 |
| We're just getting into character... |
 |
| She's the cat's pajamas |
Having
fun
is why I do community theater. I'm not in it for the money (“Wait,
there's money in this?”). I don't do it for the acclaim of the
folks who attend the fellowship of which I serve as pastor (Um, they
are wonderful people but they are just not community theater kinda
folks). I do it for the fun of it and because it helps my heart come
alive. I suppose being a person of a religious persuasion I should
have some spiritual reason for allocating so much time and money to
playing around. “Building relationships” or “witnessing
opportunities” are reasons that probably could pass muster if I had
to defend them before a board of overseers. Gratefully, the leaders I
work with and am submitted to are not wired that way. I've never
asked for their blessing but they have never insinuated that I needed
to. No, I'm in it just for laughs.
And for the people. I love to make people laugh both on stage and
behind it. I love the people I get to work intensively with for
nearly five weeks running. Donna/ “Lily”, the woman who plays my
cohort in crime, is just so much fun to be with. Long before we make
our big entrance in Act 1, Scene 7, we've already had our fill of
laughs out back. The fact that she is so doggone beautiful means I
just look better standing next to her.
 |
| Between scenes in "the green room" |
The “green room” (in stage terminology, the place where actors
hang out before and in between scenes) for this show happens to be
the large grassy area behind the Barn. Every night at my invitation
ten minutes before the show opens the majority of the cast gather
together to pray for God's blessing on our performance as well as for
each other. For the rest of the night, the 8-10 plastic chairs in
this same area are full of members of the cast visiting, talking,
sharing things light and, at times, not so light. I love to hear
people's stories and, as in previous shows, I've heard bits and
pieces of some of my cast mates' journeys. Only one or two refer to
me as “Pastor Jeff.” Most of them call me “Jeff” or “Rooster”
(which I want to believe is a term of endearment for them and not
villainy). For a lot of them I'm probably the first (or only) pastor
they've ever known in this way. (I'm not inferring that their pastor
or priest is uncaring or indifferent; it's just that they probably
don't hang out with him as they do with me.)
Tonight
is strike, always a melancholy moment for me. A world is disassembled
and put away for good, never to be replaced. I'll part company with
the fedora I've loved sporting these past nine nights. In Red Barn
tradition we'll sign the wall and then say our good-byes. And that's
the hardest part of this whole thing. Sure, I'll bump into them at
Wal-Mart or chat with them from time to time on Facebook, but we
won't have opportunity of sitting in chairs in the Green Room again
for a long time – really, if ever. People move away, get married,
take other jobs, get away from theater. Case in point, before this
show I hadn't worked with Kevin/ “Burt Healy” since Music
Man
('09), Nancy/ “Ms. Hannigan” and Donna/ “Lily” since The
King and I
('07). So, you never know when this might be the last hurrah
together. That's what I'll miss the most when the stage is swept for
the last time and Billy, the house manager, turns the lights off:
chatting informally in the “green room” with some wonderful
people I love, waiting for our cue to go out on that stage and make
'em laugh.
It always does my heart good. And in that I think God is pleased.
