Every once in a while, things just fall into place when you're not even trying. Sometimes when all you're doing in life is minding your own business, along comes opportunity, knocking on your long-neglected door.
This was one of those times. I was taking one of my long "breaks" (translation: I wasn't auditioning for any shows, and wasn't even planning to), when an email landed in my inbox.
"We would like to invite you to read one of the parts during a workshop reading of our next episode of Sex in Seattle." .......Wow....just like that.
Now, reading a role in a workshop reading is usually not a really big deal. But, for those who are wondering why this really is a big deal and why I would get involved in a show whose title sounds a bit like porn, let me explain.
"Sex in Seattle" is the marvelous creation of some talented and enterprising Asian-American actors. Tired of being left out of opportunities to perform in productions that don't require "Oriental characters" in them, these actors donned their playwright and producer hats, and created a long-running theatrical series about the lives and loves of 4 contemporary Asian-American women.
SIS has become such a hit, it has been running for over 7 years! Like its television counterpart, Sex in the City, SIS is smart, sassy, funny and fast-paced. But, I always thought I was too old to be a part of such a whirlwind of cutting-edge coolness. I was wrong.
I read the part of Mrs. Ko, the Chinese-born mother to Elizabeth, one of the four leading ladies. The play was downright hilarious, and probably one of the best episodes I had seen (I had seen several). I'd been a fan of the series for a long time, so what a kick it was to be a part of its workshop process.
Later that night, after returning home, I received an email inviting me to play the part "for real" when the next episode is performed on stage! Whew! How could I resist?
For most of my theatrical life, getting a role on stage has been an uphill climb, or so it seems. I carefully choose which roles I will audition for, hedging my bets as to which plays, roles, directors and theaters might offer the best odds of using someone like me in their production.
Usually, when I am auditioning for a role that is not written for an Asian character, I feel the climb up that hill is pretty steep. After all, I don't "look" the part, and might have to work extra hard to convince the director that I could convincingly be that person in the play.
When I audition for an Asian role, I am up against some of my stiffest competition. The Asian actor's pool in Seattle is talented, hard-working and doesn't give up easily. Many of the roles I have lost out on have been to my Asian-American sisters in theatre. Being a non-competitive type of person, the "fight" to get roles is especially hard for me.
But, here I was, being invited to play a marvelous part in a hit show! No audition, no competition, no 2-contrasting-monologues-then-a-cold-reading-from-the-script. Just a simple, gracious invitation by SIS director Miko Premo.
Wonderful roles usually aren't offered to you on that proverbial silver platter, but this time it was. And the platter offered so much more than just a nice opportunity to be on stage. I was in a sexy show with attitude and lots of laughs. I got my picture on the cover of a local magazine. I was able to reprise my role in a video clip 2 episodes later. I got to be a part of a local cultural phenomenon. I got to be cool and sexy.
Okay, maybe I wasn't the one who was cool and sexy. After all, I was pushing 50, and playing someone's Mom. But I was in "Sex in Seattle," so that made me cool and sexy....by association, at least.
My husband Randy and I were doing a bit of shopping one fine afternoon when that fateful call (you know, the one all actors wait longingly for!!) came on his cell phone. I didn't need more than one guess as to who it was.
Randy looked over at me, his cellular flip phone still pressed to his ear, and asked, "Scott (Macbeth director Scott Campbell) is offering me a part in Macbeth. Should I take it?" Silly question. Randy happily accepted the part of Ross, a Scottish nobleman, and practically sang all the way home.
But, after the initial excitement of knowing he had just been cast in a show had passed, Randy soon became pensive. I could tell he was planning...contemplating...deciding. He came to me, sat down and made his careful, almost apologetic declaration. "I think I will have to grow a beard."
A beard.....sigh.It could have been worse, I suppose. Randy might have been cast in "Annie," playing Daddy Warbucks, which would have obligated him to shave his head. So, a beard is certainly not the real tragedy in this story. The murders of King Duncan, Banquo, Lady Macduff and her son, now THAT is tragic. A beard is simply a temporary dramatic device.
It started out well enough. The five o'clock shadow that soon developed was rather becoming on him. It gave him that rugged look, in the same way that Don Johnson made the "unkept face" look chic during his Miami Vice days. Soon, as the beard grew more pronounced, I noticed that the hairs did not match the medium brown on his head. The beard was gray. Actually, white, to be exact. No longer was Randy given to the Miami Vice look. He now passed over to the Old Man look.I tried to see the light side of things. I joked that Randy was now an old geezer, and I was his trophy wife. I stroked his beard and threatened to put a ribbon in it and make it into a ponytail on the chin. I told him I looked forward to the day that I would no longer be married to Santa Claus. And so it went.....day after day looking at a man I no longer recognized.....wondering who this fellow with a strange profile was sleeping next to me at night....wanting to ask this elderly gentleman, "Who are you and what have you done with my husband Randy?"But, after weeks of rehearsals and agonizing over his Shakespearean dialogue, it was finally opening night. My brother Ko and I sat in my favorite section of the house at the Lakewood Playhouse (section I, second row). The set design was wonderful, with the Birnam Wood recreated simply and beautifully.
As the lights went up, the marvelously costumed actors took the stage and spirited us away to a far away land in a long ago time. As the beauty of Shakespeare's language mesmerized us, I was transported to a magical world of swordplay, royal ceremony and witch's brew.
Then, a handsome old man entered the story. It was Randy! How fitting he was, so much a natural part of the tale, with his kilt, his walking staff...and his beard. What was "unfitting" in Tacoma, Washington was now a thing of beauty in Macbeth's kingdom of Scotland. Randy was so regal, so noble....so handsome!
After the final curtain call, the spell had broken. Macbeth had been murdered by Macduff, the Thane of Fife. Malcolm ascended to the throne of his murdered father, King Duncan. All of Scotland began to hope anew. Randy and I went back home to our cozy condo overlooking Commencement Bay in Tacoma. I looked at my talented actor/husband and again marveled at his beard. With his 21st century clothing back on, I gazed upon the Man Who Would Be Ross. So handsome. So strong. So noble. So......gray.
Yep. I can't wait until closing day of this show, when the razor comes out and gives me back my husband. Shakespeare's Macbeth may be magical, but I sure do miss my Randy...my handsome, clean-shaven Randy. All I can think to say is, "Out, damn beard! Out, I say."
