I want to try and say what’s in my heart about this
once-in-a-lifetime opportunity I’ve had to be a part of the “Assassins” team. Heh.
That doesn’t sound quite right, but so be it.
At the beginning of this week, I did not know how I was
going to survive it. Three to four rehearsals a week suddenly became eight
straight days of rehearsals/performances for Buck Creek’s production of “Assassins.”
However, as the week progressed, the evenings spent at the Buck Creek Playhouse
became the highlight of my day. I think I will never grow tired of watching
this incredible show.
Did I mention I was the assistant director for this show? I
use that term loosely. I’m the Joe Biden of the team. Scott Robinson is a
one-man directing phenomenon, the alpha and the omega of the stage; actors
clamber to work with him because he is king. He no more needs me there than
Batman needs Robin. But in his graciousness, he took me on as an intern, an
apprentice, and gave me the incredible gift of permission to sit at the right
hand of the master.
There are not enough words to thank him for this humbling
and life-changing experience of being a part of this incomparable show. What he
assembled for “Assassins” has to be one of the most gifted collective of actors
ever to grace a stage. Truly, after watching these eight weeks, I cannot make
up my mind as to who is the strongest performer in the show.
Is it Scott as Giuseppe Zangara, whose hatred wafts over the
audience like a hot desert wind during “How I Saved Roosevelt”? Or is his best
moment when he sneers his way through difficult Italian phrases or when he
thrusts his gun into the air with the others on “Another National Anthem”?
Is it Trenton as John Hinckley Jr. whose young adult angst
is painful to watch? I actually feel sorry for him as he’s mercilessly bullied
by the Squeaky Fromme character. He sings a duet with Stacia (Squeaky) which
has got to be one of the unsung high points of the performance. His character
sings to Jodie Foster and hers sings to Charlie Manson and they have delivered
it flawlessly night after night. It has the stuff of a top-40 love ballad and
you can get caught up in the pain and yearning of the lyrics, until you
remember the creepiness of their fixations.
Stacia as the aforementioned Squeaky: even as a background character in some of the
scenes, her presence on the stage draws your eye. The tension between the
conflicted characters is palpable; you can see it and you can smell it; and
then you see her inhaling it like secondhand smoke, like an intoxicating gas
and then she clearly thrives on it. For Squeaky, if there is strife in the
room, all is right with the world.
Cathy as the inept Sarah Jane Moore: she and Stacia are, yes, the comic relief in
a show called “Assassins.” She has an innate understanding of her role in this
show. Her Midwestern twang, nuanced line delivery and facial expressions in
reaction to Hulen’s Manson-obsessed treatises will steal the show.
Mark IS John Wilkes Booth -- the wig, the ‘stache, the coat,
the GLOVES. The resemblance is remarkable. He is capable of taking the audience
from disgust to empathy to respect even, for singing out his heartfelt
indictment of Abraham Lincoln. His velvety vocals, his rapid-fire delivery,
finally, and finally, his smoothly chilling handling of Lee Harvey Oswald in
the Book Depository is enough to induce stress dreams.
Luke: throughout the
show, he plays the Balladeer, a calm and reasonable voice to challenge the
persuasive Proprietor, played by Steven Linville, as if he were a carnival
barker in a Stephen King book. How can this gentle person play this evil person
so convincingly? More nightmares.
But back to Luke… When the ensemble parts and exits, you
suddenly see the Balladeer, no longer in his good-natured woodsman’s flannel
shirt. Suddenly, he is in a vaguely recognizable, plain white t-shirt, in a
room surrounded by cardboard boxes. As the location of the scene slowly dawns
on the over-50 crowd, you can cut the tension with a knife. Booth and the rest
of the assassins sooth Oswald’s conscience and play to his need for recognition
– and when Squeaky does the honors (you see on her face that she is VERY
honored) of handing over the Mannlicher-Carcano, the audience will hold its
breath. It is touch and go for a moment, and when Oswald finally accepts the
rifle, we are dismayed, almost as if our silent collective of ‘no…no…don’t’
could actually change history.
Jake’s portrayal of the forgotten Leon Czolgosz and Daniel’s
crazed reenactment of Sam Byck: they
both represent the common man in this show, so don’t be shocked when you
realize that you totally understand their points of view. McDuffee’s melodic
bass voice adds much to the harmonies and you can feel his disappointment in
the only life he’ll ever have in his moments of silent brooding. As for Byck,
be grossed out all you want by the filthy wife-beater t-shirt he wears under
his Santa suit, but he’s right. He’s 100% right. Who DO we believe? And yes, we
ARE scared. And what can we do about it? One can’t help but think of the chaos
of the 2016 election cycle as bits of greasy French fry particles fly from his
mouth during his diatribe and stick to the microphone of his tape recorder. He
delivers a magnificently brilliant performance and never once loses the crazed
look in his eyes.
One of my favorite parts of the show is watching David, as
Charles Guiteau, react to Squeaky’s explanation of why lipstick is red. It’s
just a small moment, but it speaks to the dedication of Wood to his craft. Another
actor would have pulled a horrified face and gone for the laugh, but I’ve seen
the seriousness of Wood’s approach to character as he walks through his part
pre-performance every night. As he listens to her rambling about the cancerous
guts of mice, his expression changes – without moving his face. No really. I
detect no movement, yet his expression before, and then after, is noticeably
different. His irrepressible Guiteau is likable to the end, in his dapper hat
and suit coat, albeit with no shoes (a factual detail). He tries to woo Sarah
Jane Moore, and impress Byck with his toast. He sings and dances to the gallows
and we are sad and horrified at the sound of his neck snapping.
Finally, I am even in awe of the ensemble: Michael, Jessica,
Logan, Bryan and Mary. Their animated performance as members of the crowd is so
wonderful that you truly don’t know whom to watch. The assortment of
expressions, gestures and behind the action vignettes is highly entertaining.
I’ve taken to smiling throughout their numbers and I’m glad I’ve gotten to see
the show so many times because while watching Jessica and Bryan, I miss what
Mary, Michael and Logan are doing. If I’m watching Mary, Michael and Logan,
then I miss what Jessica and Bryan are doing. I’m just glad I was there when
Bryan lifted Jessica into the air so she could more easily see and be seen.
Bahahaha!
So. It’s been an incredible ride. And I can’t thank everyone
enough for taking me in to the Buck Creek family, talking to me, listening to
my small notes, and – tee-hee – Friending me on Facebook. Words can’t express
how honored I am to be a part of this production. I can’t wait to watch it
again tonight—and eight more times after that. Mostly, I can’t WAIT to see the
audience’s reaction. And I very much hope
they understand that they are seeing more than a musical – so much more. Break
a leg tonight, guys.
With love and respect---
