Now Seating for "The Theory of Everything"

Shortly after New Years 2009, I was contacted by one of the friendly producers with SIS Productions in Seattle. Would I be available to take over the role of Grandma May in their upcoming production, "The Theory of Everything?" They had an actor drop out.

When that call came, I was in the midst of the whirlwind, stress-filled week called "Tech Week" with Lakewood's production of "Greater Tuna," but my mind (thankfully) was sharp enough to say, yes! After all, last November I auditioned for the part of May, but was not cast.

Usually when I do not get cast in a show, I'm not that surprised. It makes sense to me that another actor might be more appropriate for a role than I. But this time, it confounded me. I was convinced that I was meant to play that role, and I couldn't quite lay it to rest.

But, here was the Mother of all Second Chances. The bus I missed turned around and came back for me. I climbed on board and took my seat. Literally. And believe it or not, I didn't get up from that seat for another 8 weeks.

Prince Gomolvilas' "The Theory of Everything" is a story about 7 Asian-Americans in Las Vegas who gather each Saturday evening to watch for UFOs. The characters come and go, making dramatic entrances and exits as they tell their tales of love, loss, dreams, hopes and confusion. All except May.

May spends the entire play seated in a lawn chair, waiting, watching, sleeping and occasionally working on a needlepoint project. She is the ever-present point of stability and constancy. She is the one who sits and observes. And boy, did I sit. And sit. And sit some more.

Immediately, I saw the advantages to this.

It was easy to learn and rehearse most of my blocking on stage. At the top of each scene, director Manuel Cawaling would point to my lawn chair and say, "May, you're sitting down." Piece of cake...

I was also able to bring in my own comfortable furniture. I have a favorite lawn chair that I used throughout the rehearsal process. Other actors envied my comfort and even attempted to "steal" the use of my chair.

I was able to rest and close my eyes during rehearsals and still be in character. After a long work day and a 45 minute commute to rehearsals, I had a hard time staying awake and energetic most evenings. What a perfect role to play, a sleeping grandma!

I was able to put into practice that tired old theatrical adage: "there are no small parts, only small actors." Sitting upstage (in the back of the stage area) in a lawn chair and saying almost no lines left me no other option than to act with my whole self. I had very few words and minimal blocking to express who May was all about. So, I learned to use my whole self to create my presence. Without the "burden" of copious lines to memorize, I was free to explore May in her entirety. They also say that "acting is REacting." I got to live that adage every night on stage. What a great learning experience!!

And most of all, I got what most actors covet: stage time. No one was on stage more than May. The Northwest Asian Weekly said that May was easily the most memorable character. I don't know about that, but she sure was the one person everyone was watching. The Seattle P-I (may it rest in peace) praised my performance as did Seattlest.com. Clearly, saying almost nothing has its advantages.

To be fair, I did get to stand up on occasion and spout some dialogue. I even got to deliver a humorous monologue at the end of the show. But, even with those lovely moments in the story, May will be remembered as the One Who Sat...and the One Who Said Very Little.

In other words, it was the perfect role for me.

So, next time some rude, thoughtless person tells you to "sit down and be quiet," don't despair. This might be your opportunity to steal the show.