Showing posts with label J Kilgore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label J Kilgore. Show all posts

Saturday, July 25, 2009

"Fully Committed" Indeed

Posted by Bruce Miller
We had a GREAT Opening last night for Fully Committed, the hip and hysterically funny comedy that will be playing through August 30 at the historic Hanover Tavern, directed by the very talented Steve Perigard and starring the one and only Scott Wichmann (pictured in the Eric Dobbs photos above).

In attendance for the auspicious Opening, laughing their socks off, were Barksdale / Theatre IV All-Stars including Tom and Carlene Bass, the production’s wonderful light designer Slade Billew and his wife and the production’s soon-to-be stage manager Christina Billew, Traci Coogle with Empire Theatre portraitist Pat Cully, Judi and Bill Crenshaw, Catherine Dudley, Tony Foley, Phyllis and Paul Galanti, and the production’s masterful costume designer Sue Griffin accompanied by Wayne Shields.

Also serving in the guffaw brigade were invaluable ushers Bev and Danny Hobson, Audra Honaker, Jeannie and Christina Kilgore (our house manager and ticket taker extraordinaire), Tom and Carmella McGranahan, Marie McGranahan and Gayle Turner, the production’s sound op Andrew Montak, Steve Perigard (of course) and Robert Throckmorton.

The production’s terrific scenic designer Terrie Powers (accompanied by yours truly and our two kids: Curt Miller, now working as Theatre IV’s groundsman and Hannah Miller, now working in our group sales dept) further filled out the ranks, joining the irreplaceable Essie Simms, Jill Bari Steinberg (or is it Jill Bari Organ these days?), and Wendy Vandergrift (the production’s stage manager) accompanied by her husband Michael.

Thanks to one and all for coming.

I always scoff at theatregoers who leave a show saying things like, “How did he ever learn all those lines.” For those of us who’ve done this a few times, 99 times out of a hundred learning the lines is the easy part.

Not so with Fully Committed.

The play takes place in the subterranean bowels of one of the snobbiest four-star eateries in Manhattan. Scotty plays Sam Peliczowski, the looking-for-work actor who mans the reservation hot line. Usually Sam shares his basement “office” with the reservations manager and a second phone operator. Today, both co-workers fail to appear, and Sam is on his own.

The hit script by Becky Mode, who by the way is an old college classmate of Robert Throckmorton’s, requires the show’s sole actor to portray 42 different characters—everything from a very soft spoken and polite Japanese woman to a boisterous lounge singer who’s been banned from the restaurant forever. So Scotty is changing characters every few seconds.

But the dazzling part—the unbelievable part, to my mind—is that in many, many instances each of the individual lines that Scotty has memorized has virtually nothing to do with the lines that precede it or the lines that follow. The phone to the outside world is constantly ringing, as is the direct line to the chef’s office AND the intercoms connecting the reservations dept to the maitre d’hotel, the business manager, and the kitchen. Scotty shifts from one disconnected conversation to another with such precision, I’m honestly in awe of the brainpower that must be involved. Because of the lacks of connection, I can’t even imagine how difficult these lines were to learn.

But with Scotty’s capable cognition, it all comes off without a hitch, managing to be both hilarious and heartfelt at the same time. If you love theatre, this performance is simply not to be missed.

The non-theatre question on everyone’s lips is this. Is Scott really joining the military? Answer: Yes, the Navy Reserves. Follow-up question: Is he really leaving Richmond theatre for an extended period of time? Answer: If he gets his way, yes.

Knowing that our nation is at war, and simultaneously knowing that he is no way compelled to join the fight, Scotty nonetheless feels duty-bound to answer the call. He refuses to let the war be another person’s burden. He has enlisted in the Navy Reserves. He has asked the Navy to deploy him to the front, most likely Afghanistan, as soon as his four months of basic training are over. He expects this request to be honored, and he is very excited about having the opportunity to serve.

That’s one hell of a guy. Again, I’m in awe.

But for the next six weekends, Scotty and his comic genius are all ours.

Hope to see you at the theatre!

--Bruce Miller

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Susie's Sizzle - "A Warm Holiday Treat"

Posted by Bruce Miller
I know I'm not supposed to care about reviews. But the truth is, I rush to read Ms. Haubenstock's opinion the minute I wake up on a Sunday morning following a Friday opening night.

I form my own opinion about whether a show has opened well or not before the first set of bowing actors return to an upright position. And that opinion seldom changes based on the opinions of the critics. I respect what the critics have to say, but sometimes I agree and sometimes I don't.

I'm a producer as well as a director. And any producer who tells you s/he doesn't care about reviews is pulling your leg. Historically, a good review in the Times-Dispatch is worth about $20,000 at the Barksdale box office. And for this I'm not supposed to care?!

Anyway, I was thrilled to read Susan Haubenstock's review this morning of Sanders Family Christmas. It's a review that will sell tickets. And it will make all the artists involved, including myself, happy because she says nice things about everybody. I read the review, and immediately felt a 20,000 lb. weight lift from my shoulders.

In order to meet budget, Theatre IV and Barksdale combined need to sell about $70 K worth of tickets and tour shows and raise about $30 K in contributions every week of the year. Our $5.2 million annual budget covers the cost of a staff of 40 or so who are paid every two weeks, over a hundred theatre artists who are paid for performances, the mortgage and/or rent payments on four major facilities, and significant other expenses. Meeting budget is not an easy task in today's economy. Susie's nice review will help in all quarters.

Here are the quotes I'll be hanging in the Tavern lobby:

“Lovely!
Runs away with the audience’s hearts
Expertly Handled ~ Just Right
Old hymns and beautiful harmonies warm the soul
The humor is gentle; the laughs are big;
the smiles don’t quit
A Warm Holiday Treat!”

--Susan Haubenstock, Richmond Times-Dispatch

Best of all, in my opinion, every word of the praise is deserved. This great cast and design team manage the impossible--they deliver a very corny and sentimental script with the utmost sincerity, winning laughs and tears while maintaining complete respect and affection for their oversized characters. And on top of all that they play a whole orchestra of bluegrass instruments and sing fit to beat the band.

Aly, Billy Christopher, David J., Drew, Emily, Eric, Julie, Brad, Catherine, Christina, David P., Jeannie, Slade, Sue and Terrie are the BEST. I loved the show on opening night, and I believe it will be a huge hit.

If you have the chance to see it, and if you have an open heart, I think you'll have a grand time.

I hope to see you at the theatre!

--Bruce Miller

Sunday, August 19, 2007

"Odd Couple" Closes Flush with Laughs

Posted by Bruce Miller

We closed The Odd Couple today to a sold-out house, a theatre full of laughter, and a standing ovation. Congratulations and thanks to all involved.

We had three shows running simultaneously this summer--a first for us. Into the Woods, Disney's High School Musical and The Odd Couple. All three shows were hits, with lots of sold out performances. All three ended on a high note.

As soon as the house lights came up after Odd Couple curtain call, Joe Pabst (the director) and I scurried onto the stage to begin collecting the props we had lent to the production. As soon as the audience cleared, Jeff Clevenger (Speed), Jennifer Frank (Gwendolyn Pigeon) and Dave Bridgewater (Oscar Madison) joined us. Seems that over the years we’ve all learned the same valuable lesson. When you lend a prop to a show, be sure to claim it immediately after the final curtain call, or expect never to see it again.
Somewhere there’s a black hole that contains all the props that are routinely sucked into it approximately 60 minutes after each show ends. These props are destined to remain missing forever. It’s one of the laws of stage physics. I guarantee you that anyone who comes looking for props tomorrow will walk away empty handed. I’ve never figured out where the props go, but they go somewhere. And they go very quickly.

Jeannie Kilgore, who’s been subbing for stage manager Joseph Papa this week, warned me that one of the tin coffee mugs went missing in action this week, before the show even closed. It seems that Scott threw it down the hall one night, as Felix is supposed to, midway through Act II. The mug has never been heard from since. Seems Scotty’s got a great pitching arm. And the black hole was waiting, like a catcher, just offstage, behind home plate. Go Red Sox!

Jeannie also apologized for her faux pas during last night’s curtain speech, dutifully performed by Phil Whiteway. Phil and his family headed off to Nags Head today. Since he knew he’d be missing the final performance, he attended last night to personally thank our outstanding cast and crew.

Whenever Phil shows up at the theatre, he feels honor bound to make a curtain speech. God bless him for it. I HATE making curtain speeches, and more times than not, I ignore my responsibilities (opportunities?) and remain silent. Phil is far more responsible than I. He knows that making curtain speeches is an important component of our efforts to raise funds and sell tickets. So he selflessly mounts the stage, time after time, exercising due diligence for himself and also for me.

Anyway, as his pre-show welcoming speech was drawing to a close, Jeannie Kilgore was pushing buttons in the booth, preparing for the first sound cue (pre-show music) that she intended to start as soon as Phil finished. But, Jeannie, as I said earlier, is only filling in for Joseph Papa, and didn’t know exactly which button was which. So just as Phil was on his last two or three sentences, Jeannie hit the button that started a particularly loud rendition of the second sound cue—a exuberant toilet flush coming from off stage right. Phil apparently played it to the hilt and graciously allowed himself to be flushed off stage. The audience laughed uproariously. Jeannie was mortified.

At least we now know how to end Phil’s curtain speeches and still get a robust first laugh for the show.

Thanks again to everyone who made The Odd Couple such a hit. You couldn’t have been more Odd, and we appreciate it.

--Bruce Miller