Fiddler on the Roof

Grrr. Or Yaaayy. Depending on your point of view. The next show is Fiddler on the Roof. I've been cast as Golde, the mother, wife of Tevye (the man who wishes he were rich). This made me quail utterly, for three reasons:

1) I have no free time whatsoever. This woman talks a LOT. When exactly am I going to learn these lines?

2) I am playing Nellie for 8 shows a week while rehearsing Fiddler. Today, for instance, after 4 hours of music rehearsals and 2 separate 3 hour shows of SP, my throat is fried.

3) SSSIIIIIGGGGGHHHHH. I was soo looking forward to shucking off this ridiculous older man playing Emile who is such a dreadful dreadful actor and such an irritating man. And now I am saddled with the next older man, who at least seems much nicer and more talented. I'm told he has notoriously bad breath, but I don't think Golde and Tevye ever actually kiss. It looks, so far, like a much better deal. But there's no getting around the fact that I'm trading one old man for another.


In other news, I ended up in a disturbing conversation today with a different bizarre cast member. I made a comment that he wrongly interpreted as a compliment (it was merely a comment), and he felt duty bound to return the compliment and started telling me that his friend came to see the show and completely bought into the romance between myself and the older man. He says the older man talks in the dressing room about how great I am, which led to "Bob" telling me that when someone feels something in real life, it makes the onstage romance so much more believable.

UUUGGGHHHH. I cannot begin to express how creepy I find the implication that my fellow actor has any excess feeling for me. Kill me now. I want to find more charity in my heart, but when I allow it, I AHBOR that man. And he's telling people in the dressing room how easy it is to look into my eyes....I'm appalled.

Best to stop thinking about it.

By the way, I made a massive error. When I found out I was Golde, I had a minor fit, trying to figure out how I was going to handle learning the lines. This led to the stage manager taking me aside to make sure I was all right, and me generally feeling like a fool. Clearly it's a nice opportunity, and all I did was whine? Sometimes I am stupid like rock.

We met the Fiddler director today, and that made me heave another large internal sigh. I still wish I were just in the company and could escape his attention. He is short, in his sixties, gay, Jewish, and apparently a pathological liar. When he talks, you think you're seeing a cut-rate version of a Broadway gay, high-strung choreographer. His speech to the company today was strewn with highly suspicious embellishments and pointless condescending "advice". He claims his bar mitzvah was held at the Wailing Wall and 100 family members flew over to attend. He claims to have been the actual Fiddler on the roof in a production directed by Jerome Robbins. He tells us that we are getting paid to do what we would do for free, and being rewarded by applause. People with 8 figure bonuses never get that, he says. (I don't think that's true.) If you want to know who you are, look at the people who love you, but if you want to know if you're good, look at the people who respect you. (I'm not sure that's exactly true either, but it does sound nice - like he's got an aphorism notebook somewhere.)

I spent the whole time rolling my eyes. Clearly, there's no room for anything in the room except this guy's ego. I'll let you know how I manage to survive. Or if.

Photo is from the show (if the upload works) - me as Nellie (in Honey Bun) with the rest of the girls who are fabulously dressed, and I hope will all play leads before the summer is over.

And just to brag, I date the cleverest, most lovely man ever - he sent me a package of mix CDs - one for each week we've been apart, each themed. Week one has songs about missing someone, week two (opening night) has a dozen songs about roses (including a truly unique version of The Rose by Conway Twitty) and week three is about travel: he's coming to visit.

He's the greatest.

More drama as it unfolds.