Cast From The Past

This past weekend, my friend Allison (who is, as we speak, passing out from being mentioned here twice in one week) and I started talking about our high school pasts, specifically our involvement in the performing arts. And though she was once an Allison-of-all-trades – singer, dancer, flute player, actress – and almost launched a career out of these skills, I somehow managed to dominate the conversation with my lone experiences as a thespian.

Coincidentally, I recently came across the website for my high school, and discovered an archive of scanned pictures from some of my performances. And for lack of any better ideas for a post, now is as good a time as any to share some of these pictures with you.

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

Role: Huckleberry Finn

Why Me?: I know what you’re thinking. (What? An Indian? As Huck Finn?) Believe me, I was thinking the same things. And though I never really got a real reason why I was cast in that role (none that I can remember), I think this really came down to two things.

1) A need to be fair and give significant roles to all students at some point throughout the year. Since I can’t hold a tune, it made sense to avoid giving me something significant in a musical, and instead give me credit in a standard play.

2) We had a black guy in the class, so the role of Jim was already taken.

Why This Role Was Awesome: I got to dress up like a slob, pretend I was a runaway, and act like a grade-school jackass. All things I’m pretty good at.

Lost In Yonkers

Role: Uncle Louie

Why Me?: Because if playing a mid-1800’s white boy doesn’t make sense, playing a small time, tough talking gangster in Jewish(?) New York during World War II does?

I actually got incredible lucky to get this roll. One of my best friends at the time wanted it desperately and was a great fit for the part, so I had not even planned on auditioning for it, instead opting to go for Jay or Arty (the two brothers). During the audition, the teacher called out random guys, including myself, to read for it. I hadn’t prepared, so I just whipped out my best gangsta accent, which apparently wowed the teacher. When announcing the cast, he said “This roll is going to someone I had never imagined earning this part.” (Not trying to brag, its just what happened.)

Why This Role Was Awesome: I got to wear underwear on stage (don’t worry, I wore two layers and added a safety pin to prevent any accidental exhibitionism).

Also, at the end of the year our class had a banquet to celebrate our season and a variety of Tony-like awards were handed out (decided by an ‘independent’ set of voters in the local community, each category containing four nominations – one for each of our shows). I was a huge underdog in the Best Supporting Actor category; the other nominees were our program’s “star” performers, and the fact that the one show I wasn’t in made it to a State competition specifically favored one of them. In a surprise upset, I won the award. (Again, not trying to brag…OK, fine, I am.)

West Side Story

Role: Chino

Why Me?: Cause when your drama program has a lack of Hispanic actors, you cast the Sharks with Indians, Iranians, Filipinos, Blacks, and Italians. And when you’re a graduating Senior, you get one of the coveted cast rolls with an actual name.

Why This Role Was Awesome: I got to fire a gun, and stab a close friend.

(Spoiler Alert)

In the final scene of the show, Chino shoots and kills one of the male leads, Tony (leader of the Jets). For this dramatic scene, the teacher decided to put a starter pistol in my hands. The moment was incredible – the buildup to the scene would be deeply dramatic, dark, and quiet, I would step out from hiding in the shadows of the stage, and fire one solitary ‘holy crap that was loud’ shot. It took a lot of rehearsal before I was able to pull off the scene without cracking up hysterically.

For three shows, the scene went off without a hitch. I fire gun, audience soils themself, I get showered with attention afterward. Then, during the break between our Saturday matinee and our Saturday night closing show, one of the cast members posed a question. “What happens if the gun doesn’t go off?”

Well of course, the idiot jinxed closing night, quite possibly our largest show of the year. I stepped out on stage and fired. Click. Tried again. Click. Click. Click. Fortunately, I had come up with a backup plan shortly before getting on stage for the scene. I had found a butter knife in our prop room, wrapped the handle in black electrical tape, and stuck it in my back pocket, prepared for the inevitable misfiring that would come.

When the gun failed me, I threw it to the ground, flashed the knife for the audience to see, then charged across stage toward Tony, fake stabbing him in the stomache. I backed off and let the rest of the show play out as directed. After the show, I was receiving accolades and praise from my fellow cast members and director for my quick thinking and improvisation in a live performance, when the guy who played Tony, a close friend of mine, lifted up his shirt to reveal a slightly bloody (but not serious) flesh wound.

“Dude, Amish…you actually stabbed me.”

And thus, my acting career ended. But at least I went out in style.