If It's Tuesday, This Must Be "Opening"!

Tuesday was a day I wanted to end as soon as it began. Have you ever woken up, lying in bed, wishing that the day was already over? That was Tuesday for me. Let's start with he fact that I only got about 3 hours of sleep. (Can you say nerves, anyone? How long have I been in this business? How many shows have I done?) And when I wasn't sleeping soundly (HA!) I was lying in bed, sweating and panting, sure that my MM! debut was about to be revoked due to the untimely heart-failure DEATH of Bill!

Alas, I made it through the night and began the day in the usual way which involves getting kids up and dressed and ready and off to school - nothing to write home (or a blog) about there. Knowing it was to be a full day, I was foolish enough to add to it by thinking that a quick swim would help settle me. Off I ran to the Stevens Institute pool in Hoboken for a quick dip. I'm thinking 8:45, in the pool for a bit, then get to the theater by 1 with plenty of rest between.

NOT!

As I'm driving to the pool, of course my fabulous commercial agent Tracy calls me from Abrams Artists to implore me to make it to a 10:15 audition for "Humira", a pharmaceutical product of unknown origin. It's a "National Network" commercial, which mean if it's shot and if it airs and if it runs, it can make an actor a lot of money. A lot of ifs, but worth the risk. So when the pharmaceuticals call, actors must answer.

Thus my luxurious swim is cut short and turned into a sprint to swim a few dozen laps before I dash home and shower and shave and dress and do all those actor-y things that actors do to get ready for an audition.

By the time I got there, nearly 30 minutes late at 10:40, they were well into the session, but I know the casting director (Martine) and she's genuinely happy to see me there, so my tardiness is quickly forgiven, thank God! (Note to self and others - it's not recommended, being late; but if you are, try the cute and gregarious method of sucking up the the casting director as I do. It'll probably get you nowhere, but at least you'll feel you tried your best.)

And of course an audition (even one of the commercial nature) never goes nearly as fast as you'd like it, with the various hallway greetings and errant chit chat. By the time I get out, it's just after 12noon - time enough to grab a sandwich (my favorite Italian BMT at Subway) and get to the theater.

Thank God for my new best friend Beth Leavel! My new BF because, as I walk in the door, lamenting the day and wishing, in that strange "I-love-what-I-do-but-I-want-all-the-hype-and-pressure-to-go-away" way, the day to be over, she agrees and we share the desperation of the moment together. We just want to work. To be actors and do the job we're hired to do. She knew exactly what I meant and understood why three hours sleep is not enough!

I can't lie and say that it wasn't a thrilling day, because it was. From beginning to end. To finally get on the set, everyone, returning cast and newbies, in full costume, full out production mode, was breathless. I'm actually writing this three days later and I'm only now beginning to catch my breath. So you can imagine what Tuesday was like.

We got through the run thru fine and everyone seemed to hit their marks well, with no major pitfalls. Obviously with this many newbies in the show there were bound to be f--- ups, but that's to be expected. Following the run we did have a note session in the house. I think the most remarkable thing about the note session was the swift kick I got from Allison when I was given a note but was caught sleeping in the aisle - I told you I only had three hours sleep. But I can tell you the note had something to do with my work in the "Gimme, Gimme" song. I just can't remember what it was.

After notes and a quick break for dinner (where I suddenly received dozens of texts and phone messages of well wishes from my family and friends [thank you all]), it was showtime! And it all seemed to go in a blur. But let me tell you, the foundation of my fears were right, because I've played in rather large houses before and I've performed in front of a lot of people, but 1500 screaming and supportive people, on top of not really being completely sure of what you're doing yet, can be a daunting task. As evidenced by my first entrance:

(How it should sound)
Harry: I'm glad to get off that boat.
Bill: That was nothing. You should try a kayak in the Okavango swamps.
(How it did sound.)
Harry: I'm glad to get off that boat.
Bill:...(silence)(headshaking)...pppfftt...yeh- (pause)(more headshaking)....ahhh... that was....that's boat...you - ... that's (exaggerated headshaking)... - try a kayak in the Okavango Swamps!

Brilliant!

Somewhere in the scene I'm quite sure I took a breath. Or two. And was able to finish. But I'm not sure. Really. About any of it. Even now...

Oh, but there's more.

Forging our way through the show, riding about six inches off the floor (at least it felt that way), I made it through. And though I can't say I nailed it, the big Voulez Vous dance number went fine. I felt only slightly accomplished at the thought that at least I didn't hurt anybody else. We then arrived at my big final scene, Take A Chance with my "Rosie", Allison. To say this woman, in theatrical terms, is a Saint, is giving her the credit she is justifiably due.

(How it should sound)
Bill:...I'm a writer. I made up my mind a long time ago. I walk a lone path.
(The cue which begins a series of intricately woven light and set and sound and music cues, all dependant on the line (MY line!) "I walk a lone path."
(How it did sound)
Bill:... I'm a writer. I made up my mind a long time ago. ... ... (pause)... (long pause)... (silence)... (silence and pause long enough for the audience to go back to their hotel, take a shower, return to the theater and still not miss anything.)

Finally, blessed saint and superior actress that she is, my dear Allison realizes that my Alzheimer's has suddenly taken root and I have nothing more to say and so SHE lights the candle, gives the cue and saves the day.

Well, at least I was consistent, bookending my performance with faux paux's at both ends. But believe it or not, they loved us. Apparently the rest of the show seemed to go well enough, including the astonishing performances of Beth and John and Alyse and everyone else, that the audience chose to show their appreciation with applause, and lots of it. It's all a blur at this moment, but I know the ringing in my ears was real.

After the show, we were treated yet once more, this time to the attendance of our producer, the original woman behind MM!, all the way from London, Ms. Judy Craymer. Here's the quick on her:

Judy was a stage manager in London, doing a concert version of Benny and Bjorn's musical CHESS. She spent 10 years trying to convince them to do a stage show using the pre-existing songs from ABBA. They finally relent and she mortgages her London apartment to pay for the first workshop of Mamma Mia in 1999. She procures enough money, presents the show in London, and the rest is history. And here's the final tally:

The Queen (of all): The wealthiest woman in England.

J.K. Rowling (of Harry Potter): The second wealthiest woman in England.

Judy Craymer (of Mamma Mia!): Number 3!

NUMBER frickin' 3!

And I'll bet you don't walk around humming songs from the Queen, do you?!

The after party was a real treat, a chance for everyone to let down their hair, literally, and breathe a big sigh of relief. My wife made the trek into the city just to join me in the celebration, even though she's not seeing the show till Sunday, with my children. (Please don't be scared of Daddy in Spandex!)

Thank God the show is done - now we can just get down to the task at hand and tell this wonderful and uplifting story. That's all I ever wanted, from the moment I woke up (after 3 hours of sleep) Tuesday morning.