Is What It Is Productions

Sylvia: The Show Must Go On

Apr 18, 2002

If you weren't there or didn't read the story on our AOL hometown site, let me tell you the story again:

It's a performance of "Sylvia." An important show for many reasons, two of which are: It's our first show since "A Man For All Seasons" nearly 8 months previous, and it's our first show in our new home, Studio One. There was a lot on the line...namely, the existance of Is What It Is Theatre. We put all our eggs in this basket, you see. This one had to work.

The weather is bleak: rain, thunder, lightning, you name it. About half way through act two, BLAM!

Darkness. Complete and total. The electricity is out, and for how long is anyone's guess.

The audience sighs and shuffles around in their seats. You can almost hear them thinking, "Great, how am I going to get past all these people and to the door so I can get to my car and..."

And that's when the flashlights go on, held aloft by IWII staff standing in the back row, and an actor brings an electric lantern onstage. The audience giggles a little, they can't help it. But the show goes on. And maybe it's the stress of the situation, maybe it's the pure thrill of working under adversity, but the performance that night is stellar. The lights do come back on after about twenty or thirty minutes, and at the curtain call, the cast earns a well-deserved round of applause the likes of which is rarely heard. For the show, you see, went on.

I am so proud of that moment that even a year later I can't relate it without getting just a little choked up. It was an inspiring display, to see the cast soldier on, to pour even more heart and conviction into a play they had already invested so much in. I suppose for me, it's as close as I can come to real glory, real honor. There's defiance in a cast that determines the show must go on. No storm could keep them from their duty, and their duty was to tell this tale of a man and his best friend.

Having a show go on under adverse circumstances -- a missing cast member, lights going out, what have you -- is certainly a far cry from the daily heroism and duty of, say, a fireman or policeman or pre-school teacher. Yet after such shows, we go home with our heads held a little higher, our hearts a little bigger, our step a little stronger, because we not only fulfilled a commitment at this little community theater in an out-of-the-way shopping center; we excelled when many would have given up. Theatre actors are respected not because they are beautiful or charming like their Hollywood counterparts; they are respected because so few of us would ever have the courage to do what they do. We might be okay in front of an impersonal camera, but before a live audience? And all those lines?! No way!

So to see someone not only be emotionally naked in front of that audience (which is what all stage actors do), but to see them fight through even more difficulty such as electricity going out -- how can we not admire them?

Standing in the last row witha flashlight in my hands, standing beside the wife of one actor and the mother of another actor, watching what I routinely call "my kids" not only survive the catastrophe but FLOURISH in it...it was night to remember.

Thank you, guys.

The show must go on.