By Emma Anselin
Gargoyle assistant editor
Posted Friday, April 7, 2006, The OG, arts

[Note: This is the third in a three-part series of articles by cast members of “Story Theatre,” Uni's 2006 spring play, which opened Thursday and will be performed again tonight and Saturday in the North Attic Playhouse. The first part, by Max Goldberg, appeared Wednesday, followed by Matthew Freeman's contribution yesterday.]

Thursday. 6:58 p.m. Places everyone.

There's a rush toward the narrow hallways behind the stage. People finger props and straighten costumes under the neon glow of blue lamps.

Crammed together amidst dusty flats and hat racks, the cast resembles a blend of bohemian peasantry and Woodstock nostalgics, with vests and skirts in bright, loopy floral patterns. The intended effect is a Grimm Brothers fairy tale feel, further enhanced by primary-colored scenery.

Some cast members linger in the South Attic. They've been there, done that. But as the murmur of the audience grows and penetrates backstage, even the experienced thespians trickle in and peek into the risers, trying to catch a glimpse of their future spectators.

Every tech rehearsal this week has been a dress rehearsal, attempting to echo the stage pressure which will arrive with a real audience. But even then, a dropped line or missed entrance is not the end of the world. There has been time to tweak, to improve. Not so anymore. There is no going back. Mistakes will remain as such, and hang in the air. No more redos.

In fact, the entire structure of “Story Theatre” is very exposed. The risers are arranged in an unconventional round-about pattern, circling the entire stage instead of facing it head on. Cast members must walk behind and among the audience to make entrances from certain corners. The sound-effects table is shoved next to a row of chairs. In the words of our director, Barbara Ridenour, this play is “theater laid bare.” The audience is intended to see many of the inner workings of the various skits which compose “Story Theatre.”

This level of interaction with the audience is also enhanced by the story-telling nature of the play. Characters are often forced to look directly at the vague faces among the risers in order to narrate a particular action or plot development. Many of the skits are fairly convoluted adaptations of Grimm Brothers fairy tales, and thus this narration is particularly important.

Nevertheless, as the night progresses, the all-too-close and personal audience turns out to be a blessing. Uni parents, students, and faculty laugh at every other line, to the great bewilderment of the cast members. They have dissected and drilled the text so many times that nothing truly seems humorous anymore, just automatic.

So maybe the term commonly applied to this evening has a dual meaning. Perhaps the most significant role of “opening night” is re-opening cast members' eyes to the value of the script and their own performance.

[Note: This article can also be found as an April 7 entry in the Gargoyle staff blog.]