Creating A Theatre Company? That's Crazy!

Tonight, I have rehearsal for “42^nd Street”.  I missed Sunday and Monday this week because of “Shakespeare in the Trailer Park”.  I just sent off an e-mail: a theatre company in New Jersey is having auditions for “Angels in America” tonight.  I can make it there by 8:45.  I asked: is that too late?  Auditions are set to go on until 9:30. 

I would LOVE to be in “Angels in America”, but that leads to a little question mark in my head: who could I play?  Prior is of British heritage, and that fact is of some importance (he is visited by the ghosts of his ancestors at one point).  Louis is Jewish, and early on is seeking the advice of a Rabbi.  Joe is a Mormon originally from Utah.  Roy Cohn is based on a real person, who was Jewish.  That leaves Belize, a gay man former-drag-queen played by an African American in the movie.  There we go.  I will wager that everyone wants to play Belize. 

Actually, I wager that there will be a LOT of people for this audition.  “Angels” is a GREAT play. 

I’m feeling the same discouragement I felt 25 years ago, when I stopped acting.  Back then, I used to remark: what kind of a future would I have as an actor?  I can play Gandhi.  I can grow a mustache and try to pass as Hispanic, and thus play a drug smuggler.  The roles just weren’t out there.  My friends told me that things were changing, that there were more roles out there for people that looked ethnic.  They told me that there were tons of theatre companies that did “blind casting”, or didn’t care about how I looked.  Whatever.  25 years later, and I encountered the same frustration.  And I heard the same line about how things were changing.  And I heard the same lines about “blind casting”.  Where are these groups that do “blind casting”, anyway? 

Ironically, I have had a great deal of luck auditioning for musicals.  I was “Narrator” in five musicals with Thespis.  If I wanted to be part of their springtime show, I know they will find a place for me.  I did “Godspell” and I am now doing “42^nd Street” with Viviana.  Matt, the leader of Viviana, has stated that they will keep me busy year-round if I wanted.

For dramatic roles, it’s a different story.  I wind up having to come to Hedgerow and pay $250 for their showcase classes, in order to get challenging roles.  The first time I took a class, the teacher suggested I perform a monologue from “Equus”.  The second time I took a class, I was in “Laramie Project”, and I closed the show with Dennis Shepard’s speech in front of the court, asking that the man that murdered his son not be given the death penalty.  Now, I am performing a scene from “Angels in America” and performing a monologue from Pinter’s “The Caretaker”.  No theatre company would cast me for any of these roles, but through those acting classes I was able to perform them. 

Several times last year the answer was a definite: it was how I looked that cost me the part.  Of course, no one will actually tell you this, leaving you always wondering “maybe I suck.”  The other thing about the Hedgerow classes is that they give me confidence: I know that I am good.  There are three theatre companies that are on my “bad experiences” list.  This is not to say that I won’t audition for them again, but I won’t go out of my way to do so. 

The first was a Shakespeare company.  I went in for an audition and was the only person in the room that was only asked to read only once.  Everyone else was asked to read two or three times.  That meant that the decision had already been made.  I was asked to read that one time as a formality – I was there, after all.  This same Shakespeare group has auditions tonight, but to make it to that would mean skipping “42^nd Street” again and missing the “Angels in America” audition: no.  I won’t go out of my way for them. 

There was another group for which I auditioned for “Deathtrap”.  In “Deathtrap”, the ethnicicity of the leads is not at all an issue, nor is the time when it is set.  Yet, the director took one look at me and said he wanted me to read for a bit part.  He knew nothing about me.  He had not seen me perform before.  I had not yet read for him.  Someone else told me that I should have told him I wanted to read for a lead part.  Why bother?  He had already made the determination that I didn’t fit in this play.  I do get audition announcements for them now and then, but again I won’t go out of my way. 

The third is a group for which I auditioned twice.  I was willing to buy that the first time I might not have been any good.  The second time, however, was a different matter.  One other man auditioned for this show.  Several people that were at that audition said that I was substantially better than him.  And he got the callback and the part.  By the way, he is white.  It was worse than that, though.  They sent me an e-mail saying that they weren’t offering me a part in the play, but they still hadn’t cast it.  After telling me I wasn’t in the play, they started actively seeking other men to fill out the cast!  In other words, they didn’t know who they would get in the play, they just knew they didn’t want me!  I’m sure that this theatre company greatly regrets that fact that I probably won’t waste my time auditioning for them again.

The lead in 99.99% of movies and theatre are tall white men.  When I wrote my play “Leia”, I didn’t discuss the ethnicicity of the characters, and in fact it made no difference.  But I have to admit: as I wrote it, I imagined white people.  If it were ever performed, would a director look past these ethnic biases when casting?

So, I found myself fantasizing.  When Viviana performed “Aida”, they used make-up to darken the appearance of their almost-entirely white cast.  When they did “Hairspray”, part of the rules with being allowed to perform that play was that they couldn’t do that: no darkening the skin of white actors in order to play African American roles!  I imagined writing a play that everyone would want to perform.  I imagined putting a requirement in there: “if you want to perform this play, these lead characters must be played by minorities.”  Community theatre groups would need to put out that extra effort, as Viviana had to do for “Hairspray”, to find minorities. 

Another thought that caught my imagination: why not start a theatre company myself?  I no sooner mentioned this thought than Jen had tons of ideas and pointers and advice.  Um . . . I’m not prepared to actually do that just yet!  But maybe I should.  What would be the point of this theatre group?

First, while musicals would not be excluded, this theatre group would specialize in dramatic work.  It would specialize in acting. 

Second, we would look for works that have minority leading roles.  They are out there; they do exist, but are rarely performed in community theatre.  This requires a willingness to put out the effort to find those plays.  Or to write them. 

Third, we would specialize in putting minorities in leading roles.  This sounds good, but implementation will be challenging as heck.  What do I do if I hold an audition and I get a hundred white people and no minorities?  Do I turn them away, saying I want minorities?  This group would need to have by-appointment auditions and would need to perform significant outreach to find the minority actors to encourage them to come.  Many plays will need rewriting in order to get this to work.  For example, if an African American played Stan in “Streetcar Named Desire”, we would need to rewrite all the parts that make reference to him being Polish. 

Then we have the normal question marks.  Fundraising: I have no money and no credit.  Finding people interested in being the “board of directors”.  I know nothing about performing the outreach this group would need.  I know nothing about how to run a theatre company.  Finding a venue.  Advertising.  Selling tickets.  Finding the director and the producer for the show.  Running auditions.  I would have a LOT to learn in order to do this, to the point where I probably won’t even be able to be in the first couple of shows!

Right now, it remains a pipe-dream.  It’s not even that: it’s just a thought that popped into my head one day.  But . . . is it a bad idea?  It sounds like a good idea. The question, then, is if I am the man to lead this effort.