The Official WL Studio Theatre blog

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Arsenic: An Update

Well, rehearsals seem to be going well, except for the fact that I haven't managed to learn my lines yet. I could use some pathetic excuse about how I've been incredibly busy in all the areas of my life outside of the theatre, but it's probably easier to just put it down to the fact that I'm a lazy buffoon (bufloon?).

It's not helped by the fact that people seem to be intent on constantly reminding us that it's only three weeks until we open. Stop saying that! I'd rather remain in blissful ignorance for another two and half weeks, please. Thanks.

Anyway, here's a few shots from a recent rehearsal.


Our esteemed director, and one of our esteemed producers (the other, I believe, was behind the camera at this moment) discuss dictorial and producorial issues. Things like budgets, poster design, and whether or not to go the bar after rehearsal.


Later, the esteemed director discusses with one of her actors on whether or not a trip to bar after rehearsal was in order. The actor was heard to reply, "If I don't get some liquor into my blood in the next hour, I think I'll probably die."


In an attempt to better understand his character, and better understand the true nature of evil, Curt reads a trashy tabloid. Is Angelina pregnant with Brad's baby!? Oh, how the mind boggles!


Stage Manager Sara-Lynn prepares to lay some Stage Managerial Smackdown on the rowdy, uncontrollable, but still myseriously sober actors.


Fully in the roll of Mortimer, I expresses my character's complete distaste for all things theatre in the most profound way I know how.


Julie hides from the hateful, soul-stealing gaze of the craptastic digital camera. Torrey, sadly oblivious to the camera's presence, lost his soul that evening. The camera ate it with some fava beans and a nice chianti.


When, at last, the rehearsal began, the actors, true to their nature, stood around staring at each other, wondering whose turn it was to spit out a line.


Curt: I think it's your line.

Todd: No, I'm sure it's yours.

Curt: No, look it's right here, it says...hey, wait a minute...


Curt: You're not even supposed to be in this scene! Get off the stage, you scenery chewing buffoon!


As the rehearsal tragically fell apart, Michelle and her Sisterâ„¢ (thankfully the only audience members) cringed in horror and disgust.

Michelle: It's not going to look this dreadful in three weeks, is it?

Actors: Stop saying three weeks!


Meanwhile, the actors counted the minutes until they were released from the theatre and allowed to return to their natural habitat -- the bar.


And then, just when things couldn't get any worse, our photographer was sucked through a temporal vortex into another dimension. Where, strangely enough, he found a sock.


It was at this point that our esteemed director completely snapped, and started to giggle uncontrollably for half an hour, her laughter only occasionally broken up by the words, "Three weeks, oh god, it's only three weeks," muttered quietly under her breath.

That's all for this update. Watch for more madness in the days and weeks to come.

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