2002-12-20

The Point

Bert%20%26%20Ernie
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It's all true, chickens. I live a life of quiet desperation and shame.

So as some of you know, I've been armpit-deep in rehearsals for a charming little musical called The Point, which is about a little round-headed boy, Oblio, who is born into a village of pointy-headed people, and his subsequent banishment into the Pointless Forest.

I don't why this is, but every time I find myself in a kid's musical, I have to overcompensate for the inherent sweetness of the storyline by being as inappropriate and foul-mouthed as possible during the rehearsal process. Fortunately, though, I always find myself in a company of appreciative and/or like-minded actors, so I'm basically able to just run with the filth.

In the opening scene, for example, the audience is introduced to the villagers and the principle characters as we mill about the stage miming various conversations and interactions. As of Wednesday night, we still are not working with any kind of personal amplification, so I've been taking advantage of the situation by approaching my castmates and saying indescribably rude things with a BIG HAPPY SMILE ON MY FACE.

Valerie, who plays Oblio's mother, enters at one point with a little wrapped bundle suggesting the infant Oblio. Now, Valerie is very used to my juvenile behavior, having worked with me in the past, and has parried admirably in this regard. Wednesday night I sidled up to her, peeked at the infant and drawled, "Y'know, if yew'd'a been fucked right yew wouldn'of birthed that freakish chi-yuld."

Without missing a beat, Valerie beamed at me: "Yep. My last baby was one-a them harelips. We buried it in the back yarrrrrrd."

Don't know what we're going to do once we're wired for sound.

lisamcc at 3:34 p.m.



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