Dead Man's Cell Phone
In this play, I had a unique opportunity to play twin brothers. It was odd for sure, but it was pretty fun. I played Gordon and Dwight. Dwight was a man who wasn't very sure of himself. He lived with his elderly mother and worked at a stationery store. He fell in love with with Jean. She had taken Gordon's cell phone after she found him dead in a cafe. She didn't know him, but she kept answering his calls. Dwight wanted her to give up her infatuation with Gordon's work phone and fall in love with him. It is a strange story, but I loved it. I got to argue with my mother, give a two page long monologue, kiss a beautiful woman, and do quick costume changes to play both brothers. I was also fortunate enough to get to act with Ashley Davidson as Jean, Pam Leptich as Harriet, Tracy Haidsiak as Hermia, and Ruby Moon as The Other Woman.
I have an interesting story about one of the performances from this production. I had a two page speech as Gordon. He was explaining how he viewed the world and how he got into the business he was in. One line from that speech is (paraphrased) "When people are in transit, they are out of their bodies. That's when you bomb them." I delivered that line and as it was escaping my mouth, I realized that the Boston Marathon bombing had happened earlier that day. I said the line and froze. I was mortified. I didn't know if I was being insensitive or uncaring for just saying the line. In my head, I stammered to regain where I was in the speech. It only took seconds for me to regroup and continue, but it felt like ages before my brain figured out that I needed to press on and finish the monologue. Such is live theatre.
I have an interesting story about one of the performances from this production. I had a two page speech as Gordon. He was explaining how he viewed the world and how he got into the business he was in. One line from that speech is (paraphrased) "When people are in transit, they are out of their bodies. That's when you bomb them." I delivered that line and as it was escaping my mouth, I realized that the Boston Marathon bombing had happened earlier that day. I said the line and froze. I was mortified. I didn't know if I was being insensitive or uncaring for just saying the line. In my head, I stammered to regain where I was in the speech. It only took seconds for me to regroup and continue, but it felt like ages before my brain figured out that I needed to press on and finish the monologue. Such is live theatre.