Finally, a little time to blog. Oy. Been a tad on the busy side, obviously. Praying Small is in cue to cue now. Last night we got about a a quarter of the way through Act I in three hours. Although, like all cue to cues, it is incredibly tedious, I don't mind it. Not in theory, anyway. I am, however, sympathetic to our PSM, who has, well, about five gillion sound and light cues to run. I knew there were going to be a lot, that's how Victor wants it. And clearly, it's going to be quite effective. There are cues within cues. It's exactly how I envisioned it seven years ago when I wrote the thing. "Light and sound should be used liberally to shepherd the audience from one scene to the next." Well, that's exactly what's happening. And in great and elaborate detail. I can already see how extraordinary it will be when done precisely. On the other hand, our chances to screw up have soared.
Clearly, this is an aspect of directing that Victor not only relishes but excels. He is very much in his element with all of this. I can't have a stand-in for my part because I have to learn it as precisely as the booth guy. I suspect once we finish today and begin the first run-thru there will be a lot of exasperation on my part.
Opening week is beginning to fill up quickly. Wednesday is an invited dress. Thursday an invited preview and opening night, nearly sold out, is Friday. We have a whole gaggle of various administrators coming from recovery homes and sober houses in the Los Angeles area. This is part of the plan. Get the bigwigs in to see it for free and then they'll bring their people.
We have, on paper anyway, four chances to run the show before people see it. Not enough, not nearly enough. But it's what we have and we'll have to make due. I spent hours yesterday working the last of the monologues, committing them to memory. The sheer volume of lines is daunting. I've said this before, so that's nothing new. But now, as the rubber meets the road and we're beginning to grasp the concept that this IS going to happen, well, golly. I'm nervous.
Hopefully we'll have the big three there opening weekend: The L.A. Times, L.A. Weekly and Backstage West. Although it will be nice to get some good notices from these three, it is not our intended audience. Our audience will be, without doubt, the recovery community. The play is, after all, about the horrors of addiction.
Today is our ten out of twelve. That, to the layman, simply means ten hours out of twelve hours. A long day.
Sipping coffee now and gearing up mentally for this endless day. At times like this it is important to have a pleasant demeanor and infinite patience. Whatever happens now is out of my hands. I have to leave it to other people. I have to trust. Never my forte.
See you tomorrow.