stranger, lover

Listening to the first read of the play on Thursday night revealed a number of truths. One is that a great play pales on the page by comparison to having actors express it, even at the raw level of unfamiliar, misguided, occasionally on-the-spot reading aloud. I thought I loved the hell out of this show before, but when I heard the actors I cast commit it to spoken language, the air around our table simply sparkled.

One of the things that appeals to me about doing theater, and even writing fiction (for that matter), is getting the chance to create genuine moments. Revealing core truths, human connection, and life with its clothes off is quite satisfying. Often times these moments are shared in the confines of rehearsal, but when stars fully align they can be shared with an audience. Even though there are great distinctions between my first two plays, one intriguing similarity is that first meetings and the banter of strangers pervaded both pieces. Each contained myriad lonely people, seeking connection and warmth.

If the first two shows were about strangers than the new piece is about longevity, in all of its glory, misery, and in between. There is an intriguing depth and shorthand had between people who've known one another for a long time. The fact that this play deals with those who have lost touch with the above adds all sorts of interesting challenges for me and my cast of strangers. I can tell that the arms length beginnings of the interactions between the actors will steadily grow into something more and more acclimated and familiar. And I can hope that after they've stopped squirming in their seats and the laughter has quieted, we'll have found some morsel of truth for everyone to take away. They'll be heard and say yeah, that's what it's like.