Wit and Wisdom
by Beth Broderick
I checked it out in the program, but I didn’t need to look to know that the young woman on stage was a novice. A first timer in a high-level, professional setting. This was not evidenced by her talents. She is a good dancer and would have to be a good singer to secure a role in Hadestown. The chorus, which is normally an important part of any musical, is a crucial one in that show. They tell the story in equal measure with the leads and the narrator. She did a fine job but what struck me, besides her obvious youth and stunning figure, was the sheer joy she took in being onstage.
Great, boundless, pure, unadulterated joy.
You don’t see that every day. She applied herself diligently to the many scenes which required her to appear downtrodden and worn thin with worry and work. The musical is dark by nature, and she kept her head down while she slogged away in the salt mines, but the joy escaped. It kept radiating off of her in even the darkest moments of the show. It was something to behold.
I tried to remember if I ever felt that … if I ever felt that much joy in being on a stage or in front of a camera. I enjoy doing my job, but perhaps my psyche is just too complex to permit such unbridled pleasure.
I have loved being a professional actor for lo these many decades, and I appreciate my good fortune. I am everything--well, almost everything--that I wanted to be when I grew up, and that is some very serious lucky business right there. Maybe that’s why I cannot seem to shake the low-level depression that has accompanied the current strike.
The Screen Actors Guild, which I have been a member of since the earth’s crust was cooling, is on strike. It’s been a long one and, in spite of terrible timing, an essential effort. I support it. I voted for it, and I respect it. It has been conducted in what was, I felt, a confusing manner at times, but I did not raise my hand to be a leader here, so it’s not up to me. Many of us have asked questions, but we are all on the same team and hoping for the best.
STAGE FRIGHT.
I had it during the pandemic too: a strange, blue fog floating in my brain. I felt heavy and disconnected. I worked out and ate right and Zoomed with pals, but there was something missing. It was the longest period of time I had ever gone without working. I think this strike, which paralyzed production long before it even happened, has been even longer and life in limbo is just, well, weird, and I have to admit, depressing.
It is odd not to be doing what I have always done. I made my debut at the age of eight in a community theater production of Tom Sawyer. I think my character’s name was Amy. It wasn’t Becky because she is a lead and I wasn’t that, so let’s just go with Amy. My big line was:
“Tom Thawyer I do believe you are the meantht boy in thith town.”
I of course stomped my foot as I said it, leaning heavily into the “lisp” I had, in my mind, perfected for the show. That sort of thing would not be tolerated now. It’s wildly incorrect, of course, but, long ago at the Huntington Beach Playhouse, we thought it was just fine.
We have learned so much about ourselves and the way we have depicted our differences in media. Stereotypes still abound, but most of us in the business of “show” really try to represent folks fairly. We have made progress. There are more people of color in a variety of leading and essential roles now, and people with disabilities are often cast to represent themselves. We have learned to respect and honor folks in the LGBTQ community and portray them with dignity and dimension. We have a long way to go, of course, but we are making the effort.
The ability to see the “other” as vital and human is key to our survival as a species. Without a clear sense of the collective, we will not be able to solve the big problems that we face. Climate change, housing shortages, over-population, political disaffection, corporate greed (the thing that has propelled not just my union but Americans from a variety of industries into the streets as of late) can be managed--but only if we come together to act.
ALL THE WORLD’S A STAGE.
Humans are tribal by nature. We have historically broken down into disparate groups and routinely declared war on those we encounter who are not like us, who do not believe what we believe. We are the only animal in the kingdom who kills for reasons unrelated to actual survival.
The horrors of war are all around us now. The terrible scenes of death and destruction continue for the people of Ukraine. The newly begun war of terror being fought in Israel is gut-wrenching, almost surreal in its awfulness. Countless lives are being lost; innumerable hearts are being broken.
There are no good wars.
The American civil war was the deadliest in human history, but the winning of it installed the hope of a new era of equality. We aren’t there yet, and maybe won’t be in my lifetime, but the brutality notwithstanding, it was a fight worth having.
We cannot afford to give up on one another. We have to be able to recognize evil, while remembering that most of us are good. We have no choice but to fight some wars but must pray for and work toward peace. Even in this saddest of times, we have to believe in us.
It helps to know that there are beautiful young men and women the world over who dream of a bright future and who cannot wait to leap into life.
Her profile in the program read:
Courtney Lauster is thrilled to be making her touring debut in Hadestown!
Godspeed, young lady. And thank you for reminding me that even in the throes of darkness, there is a light inside us all which begs to shine.
On we go …
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an interesting piece covering a wide swath ... Hadestown is just about my favorite musical now. I saw it last year. I applaud you for noticing the joy of a first timer - I don't think I am that perceptive. carry on
I so liked the way you worked your way from that first observation to the finale...a very compelling path