Giving Theatre a Second Chance

Just before the holidays I auditioned for a small part in a local equity/non-equity theatre production. Last week I got the call, "Would you like to be part of....?" I'm giving theatre a second chance.

A bit if history. I stumbled onto the stage after turning 30. When my foot hit the boards I got the "ah-ha" feeling -- this is what I'm made to do. Stepping into a story and making it as real as possible thrilled me. For about 12 years I volunteered with community theatre groups mostly as an actor. I learned so much, including many of the quirks associated with the somewhat inbred community of actors, stage managers, and directors.

Everything, from the nerves of auditioning, through the stress of rehearsals and pre-production, to the Ta-Da of performing, grew familiar. Meeting so many different and interesting people came with the territory and I became friends with several other actors, in particular Dee Dee and her boyfriend Roger (not their real names). We'd hang out, watch movies, go biking, share the occasional meal. Our kids were often part of the mix, socially as well as in shows.

But about five years ago everything changed. During my last show things went horribly wrong. Roger thought it would be funny to shock some of the cast members as we waited backstage to make our final entrance. He stepped from behind the scenery flats and mooned us. Yes. A 35-year-old man. I still had to go on, deliver my lines, kiss the leading man and take the final bow. The show director was out sick, but when we trooped off after the final curtain, I made sure Roger knew how offensive the action was. "Oh, Rebecca!" he laughed as he left the green room, "I seriously question your heterosexuality." Hm. Would I only find the behavior upsetting if I had a different orientation? I must not be really straight if a bare male bottom isn't appealing? In spite of this retort, I figured my disgust was duly noted.

Nope. During another show he repeated the performance. There was no way to know if or when he'd pop out. This time I told him off and complained to Dee Dee. "No," she crooned in mild amazement. "He didn't." But her tone made it clear she believed me. She went on to suggest that this was just a childish prank rather than something really wrong. Not what I was expecting from a friend and someone I respected as the most professional member of the cast. Even so, I hoped that she'd speak to Roger and that the behavior would end.

To avoid further trouble I tried standing somewhere else, but almost missed my entrance. I returned to the doomed location. For his third performance, Roger stepped out and flashed us. Yep, the full Monty.

After the show I began looking for ways to address the problem. First, I restricted all contact my kids had with the Roger and Dee Dee. By mutual agreement, my husband Ken and I met with them and a third party to talk. It was painful and fruitless; our friendship ended. I spoke to the theatre director and a long-time board member, in the process learning that Roger had a history of questionable behavior with the theatre. I filed a police report and finally wrote a letter to the theatre board of directors. Five months after the show closed, the theatre board produced and posted a code of conduct for all to see.

The problem was addressed. But in the process I lost several precious things including my love of theatre. Now I'm giving theatre a second chance. Have I fully recovered? Will the magic return? I'll wait and see. Pin It