Under the Water on Stage

Faithful Readers, you read this the other day and have been eagerly waiting ever since for the final report, haven't you? Yes, you have; I know you. Well, here it is:

This morning Susan brought the girls to the public high school (where they've been rehearsing with the Missoula Children's Theatre directing duo all week long) to spend the day. They had final rehearsals before the two performances at 3:00 and 5:30 P.M., so they had to pack food for a midday dinner and a midafternoon snack. Susan and I walked over for the first performance and found the high school's auditorium to be MUCH more comfortable than last summer's performance space (by which I mean "air-conditioned"). We got good seats in the front row so that I could camcord the show.

Then the fire alarm went off.

It's a digital alarm that doesn't sound like the ear-splitting bells in schools "back in the day," so it took a while for anyone in the auditorium to figure out what the noise meant. When one of the directors confirmed what it was, everybody filed outside. The kids, who had worried about using the restroom before the show for fear of having a parent or grandparent see them in their costumes before the appropriate time, were exposed, so to speak, and stood around in clumps in the shade of trees to keep from dying inside their hot costumes while we all waited for the "all clear" and permission to go back in.

The tour directors (Jason in the maroon robe and Gregory in the light blue T-shirt) wrangled the child actors, keeping them relatively calm and in the shade after the fire alarm sent us all outdoors.

Things got started a little late due to the building evacuation, but the show went well, and our daughters were terrific. (You expected The Dad to say anything else?!) It was the theatre company's version of The Little Mermaid, not Disney's version. One of the two adult tour directors played the dad to four mermaids, all of whom are intrigued by the life of people on land. The dad allows each of them, on her sixteenth birthday, to make a visit to the town on the shore, and the play travels through time to allow us to see each mermaid's visit. The mermaid daughters are smitten with the prince on land, overlooking the very eligible--but patiently unobtrusive--merman Gil who's always hanging around their underwater home. By play's end, the mermaids learn to appreciate the life they have in the sea, and Gil finally gets the attention of the mermaid whom he has been eyeing for years.

Suzanna played a Sea Scout, one of six characters who help the narrating tour director/actor move things along. She "got" the numerous puns throughout (included for the benefit of the adults in the audience, no doubt) and delivered them with the appropriate emphasis, too (e.g., she told the audience that the mermaid's mom, Mrs. Merman, had the first name of Ethel, of course).

Suzanna is holding an octopus on a stick . . . no, not a new deep-fried food item from the state fair but one of the props to suggest the undersea environment of The Little Mermaid.

Abigail played a Seasider, one of the townspeople who react to the goings-on in the mermaid-visits-the-people-on-land scenes. And react she did! You want surprise? You got it. Fear of the dragon entering town? Here you go. Exasperation? Just listen to me sigh! A few strokes of a black makeup pencil turned her into a man, which looked particularly cute.

Do you recognize the whiskered man as the usually pretty little Abigail?!

Hillary played a Seahorse, a batch of Western-costumed underwater ponies whose function in the play is to look cute and draw "ooh"s and "aww"s from the audience. She galloped and neighed quite well and even had a solo; the Starfish sent the other Seahorses away and had Hillary alone sing the last line of the previous song a capella. Very well done.

That's Hillary in the center as a Seahorse. That maroon elephant trunk hanging in front of her face is actually the coronet of the seahorse's anatomy. Notice the cowboy hat and the fringe on the vest? Because seahorses are creatures of the Wild West, apparently.

Susan and I returned for the second showing, which went well, too. Afterward the girls checked in their costumes and were free to go. We ate our grilled bratwursts and spaetzle in dill sauce on the veranda and listened to our daughters share backstage stories and reflect on the show. I hope they will continue throughout the years to enjoy theatre as much as their parents have! They certainly have a knack for performing.

The entire cast! Can you find the three Mobergs?!