From Canyon To Cove: Bringing ‘Lynch’ to life on stage
After my stint with Gallimaufry in the recent production of “Damn Yankees,” I can report the following: The foundation of any good musical is underwear. And that goes for the men as well as the women.
We were all pulling on layers of the tightest, most slimming, flattening fabrics under our costumes. I was lucky: I only had to put my costume on once. Some of the star performers were constantly running off stage in a panic to change clothes. It’s no wonder some of them decided to use the wings of the stage as their dressing room. I have to say that we probably all saw more of each other than one would expect in a place of business other than a tanning salon.
Looking good is half the battle when you are faced with walking on stage with a bevy of talented performers who have been “trodding the boards” for years. If you look the part, the rest will — or should — follow.
My first challenge was realizing that my character, “Lynch,” was written for a man. I was aghast when I watched the 1958 movie version of “Damn Yankees” and saw the actor who played the role of the “senior reporter”: He was, ahem, portly, balding, and had a big stogie between his fingers in all the scenes. Yipes. Where was I supposed to go with that?
Then I got very lucky with my costume. Julie Josephson, of Gallimaufry, said the vintage “Joan Crawford” blazer had been in the company’s wardrobe for five years and no one had ever been able to wear it — until I walked in the door. It was obviously one of her treasured costume pieces. “Every year I bring it out in hopes of using it,” she told me. “You’re the first one it actually fits.”
After two weeks of rehearsal, on costume day, I had arrived with a checked wool skirt I found at Goodwill that morning for about $5, thinking it would go with several blazers I had on hand. Then the Joan Crawford blazer came out and we — Julie; the costumer, Darlene; and artistic director Steve Josephson — were all delighted to see that not only did the blazer fit, but the skirt I brought was a perfect match for it. It just needed to be hemmed about 5 inches.
The Crawford blazer has such wide shoulder pads that I found myself bumping into doorways and people until I got used to wearing it. Or was it wearing me?
Then there was the hair problem, which two of the actresses solved by wearing wigs. I constantly struggled with my hair, which Darlene had decreed should be done up in “finger waves” prior to every performance, in keeping with my “professional gal in the ‘50s” look. This was daunting to one whose idea of hairstyling is the “scrunch.” It took Darlene 10 minutes to put my hair up in hot rollers, then deftly style it. It took me half an hour or more; I couldn’t find anything to hold up the rollers with, so I had to hold each roller individually until it cooled down a bit and I was reasonably sure a curl had been made. I found that after a few sprays of White Rain hair glue the curls would stay put. But I was never able to replicate Darlene’s magic touch.
Makeup was easier: just plaster on foundation, cover with powder, slather on some blue eye shadow (the more the better), liberally use eyebrow pencil on lids and brows, and finish with mascara. A little blush and a thick application of my reddest lipstick and I was good to go. Since this was stage makeup and not intended for close-ups, my heavy-handed skills were adequate for the task.
Once I was costumed and made up, and in my heels, “Lynch” was born. I must say she was a bit of a femme fatale and willing to milk her charms for all they were worth in getting a story. “We’ve voted you best costume,” Keith Henderson, who played Joe Boyd, remarked to me on opening night. That was a real confidence-booster.
After the second performance, Lagunan Barbara Painter hailed me down outside the theater and congratulated me. She had read my earlier column in which I described struggling with the problem of being heard in the huge theater. “I went to the back to see if I could hear you, and I could,” she said. Another challenge met!
What was the most fun for me was the fact that there were a number of other reporters who appeared all together in group scenes and since we had no lines, we could make it up as we went along — and did. Lagunans Jay Rechter and Steve Baker donned trench coats and fedoras for their reporter roles, and we all carried reporter’s notebooks. (In my case, mine doubled as crib notes for my scenes with dialogue.) Since my dad, Louis, was a reporter in the 1950s, I advised the men on how they should wear their hats — back on their heads, since they couldn’t take them off and still write in their notebooks. (Of course, my dad favored the bow tie look, but I couldn’t persuade any of them to wear one.) We had to create a “hubbub” at one point and an “uproar” in another, and we also had to attempt to stampede out of a hearing. I think the audience enjoyed our antics because those “reporter” scenes always got a big hand.
My partner in most of the scenes was Tad Heitmann, Sr., who played team owner, Mr. Welch, with a strong Southern accent that gave his character real distinction. Tad, Jr. was one of the dancing-and-singing ball players who were so much fun to watch, so the Heitmann clan really contributed to the show. The Baker family went further, with a 100% participation rate: Steve, wife Jennifer, 3-year-old Katy and firecracker Emily were all in the show and entertained both on stage and behind the scenes.
By the end of the run, we were all exhausted but had such fun that many have vowed to come back again next summer if Gallimaufry will have us. Being in a theater production is like joining a big family and we were all sorry to see it end. Most of us stayed around after the last show to help “strike” the set: a huge job involving a lot of lifting and carrying of the enormous sets and myriad props that had been rented from the Fullerton Light Opera Company. Even this last task was a pleasure, as we got to spend a little more time together and really see the production through to the end. There were a lot of hugs and heartfelt goodbyes after we had packed the last of the show pieces into a huge semi-truck. What a great group of folks — creative, funny, and energetic — to spend time with. [Note to Julie: We love you, too!]
If you have a yen for theater but haven’t had the opportunity to test yourself on stage, you might look into Gallimaufry or one of the other theater groups in and around Laguna. Auditions are happening all over Orange County!