Last Saturday morning Frank Langella was interviewed by NPR's Scott Simon in his dressing room at the American Airlines Theatre where he is appearing in Terence Rattigan's 1963 play Man and Boy. On his wall in the dressing room, Langella has three quotations that he takes with him everywhere. They are his acting credo:
The cathartic possibility of the theater needs nothing more than the actor and the stage.
The rehearsal for God of Carnage, Everyman Rep’s November season opener, began normally enough in the third floor Gentleman’s Room of the Camden Opera House. We had the coffee, we had the clafouti, we had the pretend rum, and our scripts. But after the break, through some sort of mutual unspoken agreement, we moved into improvisation, put the scripts down and just went for it.
OK, we had to deal with snowstorms during rehearsals for 84 Charing Cross Road, and then fears for performance cancellations, all the way through January and into February.
We were rehearsing at the Inn At Ocean's Edge, kindly lent to us by the manager there - our very own Laurel Johnson.
The Inn At Ocean's Edge is down a very long, curvy, steep, narrow road.
We had to push cars up it on several occasions. On one occasion a truck had to be abondoned overnight and towed out the next morning.
One of the great things about being on the spot when a cast is rehearsing a play that you've translated is that the third time someone says a line that you thought was so funny and still no one laughs you can go up to the director and the stage manager at the end of the rehearsal and say: "OK, you know that line about the loan killer whale? Let's cut it." And the look of relief on their faces!
Another great thing is when the cast unconsciously correct your choice of words. Yeah, it's pre-nuptial agreement, not contract, pre-nup? Right?
It is a rare theatre company that can finish one season without already having worked out its next one. And the Everyman Rep is not that company, so a little teaser here on what might be coming after the Miser.
The rehearsal for God of Carnage, Everyman Rep’s November season opener, began normally enough in the third floor Gentleman’s Room of the Camden Opera House. We had the coffee, we had the clafouti, we had the pretend rum, and our scripts. But after the break, through some sort of mutual unspoken agreement, we moved into improvisation, put the scripts down and just went for it.
The term "night off" in theatre can be taken to mean a number of things:
It is a rare theatre company that can finish one season without already having worked out its next one. And the Everyman Rep is not that company, so a little teaser here on what might be coming after the Miser.
