"Indi"-pendence

There are some days, today being one of them, when I really have no idea where to start or what to say. I suppose when that happens I should take the hint from my conscience and just leave it. But I think there's value in starting "no where" and seeing where it takes me.

Today's work was short, but informative. We touched on the only scene left in the show that hadn't been rehearsed, partly because, up until last week, we didn't have our "Tanya". But we made up for lost time in that department as she spent most of the day in rehearsal. My time with her was short, however, because she and I rarely share the stage together. We have one small scene when, after returning from a "fishing trip", my "Rosie" and I encounter her on the beach for a quick and awkward verbal exchange. Then we're gone. The scene itself is merely an introduction to the much bigger song "Does Your Mother Know", so we did our part and skedaddled. Because the scene, in the larger scheme of things, takes place on a busy stage (lots of people and props moving around and lots of different events vying for the audience's attention), it's hard to do much more in rehearsal than lay down the basics upon which, once we're in the theater, we can build.

At this point things got a bit interesting. I had yet another costume fitting, again with Angie our Assistant Costume Designer. Only this time, rather than heading down to Matera's costume shop, she brought the clothes to the rehearsal space. We tried on some simple khaki-colored cargo pants and a pocketed, khaki-colored, long-sleeve cotton shirt, fitting for the character as he's been written originally and played thus far in the run. But this is where the questioning began. Simply put, until now the character of Bill has been Australian, complete with Akubra, the real name for the Australian bush hat. And with the multi-pocketed cargo pants, the pocketed shirt, the second pair of pants (though without the cargo pockets), the khaki, cargo-pocketed shorts - the theme to me seemed overwhelmingly Australian. The problem is we're trying to change the character from being Australian to being American. It's becoming more and more clear to me that you can't simply "drop" the accent and make the character American. I'm thinking that he really needs to have his own "look". There have already been line changes in the script to reflect this difference, too. Where Bill was once referred to as "Dundee" (as in Crocodile), he's now called "Indiana" (as in Jones). Where he once replied to the query of his origin as "Australian", he now replies, "I'm from the US." So if the change in the character has been made in the words he says and the things that are said about him, it becomes increasingly difficult to think that the clothes he wears would be the same as an Australians. He would be an American wearing American clothes. Cowboy boots, perhaps, and blue jeans. And of course some sort of Indian Jones Fedora hat. If they have established the original "Bill" as the iconic Australian, it seems only fair that the American "Bill" be afforded the same distinction. Obviously more than just my opinion comes into play here. There is the consideration of the costume designer, first and foremost, and what he is trying to establish. There is also the "palette" of the show, the blending of the costumes and sets and lights and how they all look together. Much has to be taken into account before changes can be made, but in the end the strength of the show lies in the strength of it's characters.

This idea of "costume as character" really hit home when, after the fitting with Angie at the rehearsal space, I walked the 15 blocks north to the Winter Garden Theater and met Ron, the Wardrobe Supervisor on the show, for a shoe fitting. At first I was presented three different sandal options for the end of the first act, when the trio of songs "Gimme, Gimme, Gimme", "Name Of The Game", and "Voulez Vous" are sung. This is the bulk of my dancing so I want to make sure that the sandals I wear are not only appropriate looking but comfortable enough to wear 8 times a week. (I joked a couple of times today with my fellow "older actors" that when we were all in our 20's we threw ourselves around the stage with abandon, caring not for the consequences. Now all we think about is, "Can I really do that 8 times a week?) We settled not on the traditional Birkenstocks that other actors before me have worn, but on a closed-toe sandal designed for comfort and durability, but still within the style of the show.

Then came the boots for my first entrance, and suddenly my dilemma became palpable. I don't want to be known as a difficult actor, and in reality I'm not, but I am very particular about my footwear. For me, the shoes I wear say a lot about, and really inform, the character I play. These boots were large and clunky and certainly do not fit the image or idea I have of an American "Bill". I was offered two colors, dark (almost chocolate) brown, and a lighter, butterscotch-y brown. I commented that if I wore my pants halfway down my ass with the latter, I'd be a home-boy in the Bronx! I walked around for awhile in both pair. Neither held much appeal. In the end, and after much discussion with Ron about my options, I agreed to the butterscotch pair. But this decision came with the caveat that I would be discussing more the idea of boot alternatives, including Cowboy boots, with Martha our director and Angie and the other powers that be.

This is a difficult position to be in, not only for me but for all involved. If this were a brand new show, for example, the idea of character choices and clothing would be a direct discussion between actor and director and designer. But in this unique situation, where you have a very successful, long running show that is trying to "tweak" the characters and change things up a bit, it's a lot harder to make a change, fearing (justifiably) that you might alter some well-working chemistry and topple the "house of cards" that is the show. But the great thing about this situation, I feel, is that all parties are open to discussion and the possibility that something will change. Therein lies the key to success.

One last thing. (This is a lot from a guy who didn't know what he was gonna say in the beginning!) I never tire of walking into a Broadway theater, and this one is no different. It's very cool! There's a palpable feeling to walking backstage in a long running, successful show. It's exciting. As Ron led me up the 4 flights of stairs to the wardrobe room, we passed by what will be my dressing room. I'll be sharing it with David ("Harry") and it's beautiful! We have a large space with a big coach and, best of all, a beautiful view of Times Square. We look right out on to 50th St. It's breath taking and I can't wait to A:move in and B: show my kids. They're gonna think Dad's job is pretty cool! At least I hope so. And the best part is, the theater is right next door to my daughters favorite restaurant, "Ellen's Stardust Diner", complete with singing waiters!

Now if can just figure out what to do about the Indian Jones hat...