Hot Stuff on Stage

Missoula Children's Theatre, Inc., came to town, and the girls participated all week. There were auditions on Monday, rehearsals at various times of the day Tuesday through Friday, three free workshops throughout the week--all leading to dress rehearsal and a matinée today plus an evening performance to wrap things up tonight.

I must honestly say that I didn't really catch much of the plot. The grade school gymnasium upon whose stage (you all recall stages built into the ends of rectangular gymnasia in schools, right?) the troupe performed the play was so hot and devoid of air flow that I felt I might pass out. I got up and stood in the back throughout the entire show, swaying back and forth to keep myself alert and fanning myself continously with my program. There was something about a vain stepmother, an innocent beauty sent into the forest, seven peculiar midgets, and a simple-minded woodsman who inadvertently saves the day. The script seemed appropriate for children and had a few laughs for adult audience members, too; but let's face it: no one was there having been drawn by the prospect of encountering excellent theatrical literature. We were all there to watch our children, grandchildren, neighbors' children, etc., put on stinky animal costumes and sweat under the stage lights for over an hour.

Truly they all did very well, especially considering the limited time they had to put together the production. The speaking roles went to older children, and kids our children's ages played forest creatures. Suzanna was a bluebird, and Abigail and Hillary were bats.

They weren't on stage much, but they were committed and energetic when they were on stage--especially Hillary, who really got into the facial grimace and intimidating stance when the bats were supposed to be scary. This was in stark contrast to her audition earlier in the week when she hid her face and feigned bashfulness when asked to state her name. Our daughter shy? Right.

The girls enjoyed the experience but were perfectly happy to turn in their animal costumes. They were not amused by the expectation that, between scenes, they and the other children sit perfectly still backstage side by side in their hot costumes in the stifling, still air of the "theater" (gym with stage at end). "Dad, there weren't even any fans!" That's because the noise would have distracted from our ability to hear the kids speaking on stage. However, I should think it's no easier to hear from the audience when one is in a heat-stroke-induced coma. Six of one, half a dozen of the other.