COMMUNITY THEATRE DRAMA AND OUTRAGE
  

Things go wrong. Things go bump in the night when they're not supposed to. Props disappear, stage fright descends, lines are dropped. We've all been there, haven't we? We've run the gauntlet and the gamut. Send in your stories to share. Stage crew anecdotes are great as well. Just please be sure they are true, okay? Email drama@beckymotew.com
Shared Stories...

 

From Sofielise--wow!!!

My favorite theater gaffe comes from a dinner theater production of Evita.  At the beginning of the second act, the tension mounts as a crowd gathers beneath the balcony of the Casa Rosada, waiting for the appearance of Juan Peron.  Che isn't on stage at this point, but we all knew where he was ... actually, the whole audience knew where he was, since he'd neglected to click off his body mike.  Let's just say that it was 1) the longest pee in the entire free world and 2) the Casa Rosada surely had several fountains off in the distance.  Thank God I wasn't on stage yet for this one, because "Don't Cry For Me, Argentina" would have turned into a laugh fest.
oh, drama
This was only dress rehearsal, so I don't think it counts. But the "phone" didn't ring, when I was supposed to answer it. So I said, trying to stay in character, "Is that the phone?" swallowing back a giggle. So I picked it up and started my lines, and the phone rang in my hand. I still would have held it together if not for everyone in the wings collapsing onto the floor in laughter.

A Reader in Michigan shares this experience:

Same show, actual performance. (Your "top too low" anecdote made me think of this.) I had this evening gown, which didn't really fit (too many costumes, too few seamstresses rushing) and it was very low cut in front with a halter top, fastened with a hook to one side of my top, if that makes sense. The dress itched through the whole scene, but I ignored it until just as after I got off stage, when I finally hitched it up a bit to give my itchy chest a break.

Pause to mention that I couldn't figure out how to wear a bra with this thing. It had a plunging back and a deep V at the neck. I couldn't figure out those sticky-bra things, so being (ahem) petite in the boob department I just said forget it, and went without.

Back to going offstage. I hitch my top up, and the hook arrangment comes loose, the top falling completely down to my waist. I gasped and grabbed it back up, and almost wet myself trying to keep in my hysterical laughter as everyone else in the wings did the same. Then I rushed backstage, hysterical-giggle tears messing up my make-up, to fix myself up, and quick, because I had to go back on in just minutes.

Kris

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Caught in Carnival
 

Better Living Through Styrofoam!
:from Ten Nights In A Bar-room
 
 
THE STUDENT PRINCE by Sigmund Romberg

  I had one line in this hulking beast and I forgot it.  One!  With horrible stage fright, I stood watching the dialogue moving around the stage, hopping from one speaker to the next like an inquisitive ferret, eventually coming to me.  No I can’t forget , no I can’t forget, oh my god, I’ve forgotten.  This was my line:  “Your arm, Arnheim.”    Or as we joked in rehearsal, “your leg, legheim,” or other body parts that we found suitable.  Oh, it was so much fun in rehearsal and afterwards in the bar.  But oh, it wasn’t fun at all on the night of the performance in my pink satin ball gown, arm linked to a young man in a tuxedo—(Arnheim, presumably).  I watched the dialogue making its way slowly—god, horribly slowly, it was Romberg after all—to my one measly line, WHICH I COULDN’T REMEMBER.  My life passed in front of me.
THE ODD COUPLE by Neil Simon
  I was one of the Pigeon Sisters.  We were supposed to be cute and stupid, which was not a problem.  I had a horrible time remembering my lines in that one too.  I was a little intimidated by one of the actors and that made it worse.  I sat perched on the arm of a chair watching everyone else say their lines and wondering what I was doing there.  I smiled and looked as cute as I could, but I knew the ferret was coming for me.  I flubbed the line but somehow everyone recovered, no thanks to me.  That show was a nightmare for stage fright  I had to think of five fingers on a hand—somehow that image made me remember my lines.  But I remember sitting there sweating.
Also in THE ODD COUPLE by Neil Simon
  My sister Pigeon and I stood in the dark behind the door, waiting for our entrance.  Every night she would ask me, “Is my top too low?”  We’d been told to look sexy, but she felt she was over the line and would ask me incessantly if I thought her top was too low.  I reassured her every night.  “It’s fine.”  “You’re fine.”  “Don’t worry about it.”  On closing night I waited until the door was just being opened for our entrance, and told her “Your top’s way too low” and walked on.
OKLAHOMA!
  I was left onstage with nothing to say when the actor playing my father (I was Ado Annie) missed his entrance.  I think he was in the dressing room chatting with someone.  Luckily, Ali Hakim was out there with me and we improvised, though I think the audience knew.  I kept peering off into the wings, going, “Paw?”  Paw?”  “You know, I’m sure I see Paw down the road there.”  I was about ready to dump Ali Hakim and go find the guy when he appeared.
(Ado Annie with attitude)
NEW MOON by Sigmund Romberg
  Another Romberg groaner and this time I had many lines.  A male actor and I stood there waiting for someone –not Godot (Godot we could have waited for—Godot would have shown)—a ditzy girl to make her entrance.  We could hear her running behind us to get to the other side.  Why she felt it mattered from which side she entered, I don’t know, but we didn’t have ANYTHING TO FREAKIN’ SAY.  The actor turned to me and said, “Well?” and I could have killed him.  I fixed his wagon, though.  I put my hands on my hips and said “Well, what?” to him.
 
 
BRIGADOON
  Corpses onstage can be a problem.  During the very emotional scene where a father kneels at the side of his son’s coffin, the corpse first turned bright red and then turned to the side, laughing uncontrollably.  The father’s shoulders began to heave up and down as well, bagpipe music giving everything a surreal quality.  I wasn’t in this show, only the audience
 
 
©2006 Becky Motew