To Be or Not to Be

    Raul Esparza was robbed, they say. But I’m not so sure.

    They say that he, having been long overlooked by the Tony committee, was due. This was his year. But last time I checked, the award was for Best Leading Actor in a Musical, not Best Leading Vocalist in a Musical.

    I would gladly go out of my way to praise Esparza for his performance on the Tony Awards this year. I’ve never found occasion to like him before, but the passion and longing he conveyed -- not to mention the sheer power of his voice -- won me over. It gave me chills and caused me to lose control of the muscles that keep my jaw shut. Nevertheless, as I watched, I couldn’t help noticing how much effort it seemed to take him to sing it. It took me awhile to realize why that bugged me.

    In musical theatre, song is a natural extension of the character. When some event, thought, or feeling is too much for the non-metrical monotony of everyday speech, the characters simply must burst into song. As a result, the actor must make it look natural . . . effortless. Take a look at four-time Tony winner Audra McDonald, for example. You wouldn’t expect such a voice to come out of her with the way she presents herself. Each high note seems to take no more effort than an everyday discourse between friends; each one slides out of her mouth like water down a gently sloping hill. Then there’s Esparaza. Every power note, every long note –- especially that high note at the end of “Being Alive” –- that Esparza sings is preceded by a noticeable effort, as sort of gearing up for the big’un.

    David Hyde Pierce, though he had an arguably less difficult and certainly less nuanced part in Curtians, did a much better job of hiding his effort. He was Lieutenant Cioffi because we didn’t see him trying to be Lieutenant Cioffi. Esparza did a bang up job as Bobby, but we all knew he was trying. Yes, the role of tortured, lonely Bobby seems to require more effort that the romantic, stage-struck Cioffi, but both should appear just as effortless to the audience.

    That is where Esparza failed and Pierce succeeded. And that is why Pierce walked away with the shiny, spinning statue.

The Song I Love: The Melody of 42nd Street

    As I have stated before, the theatre world can be extremely aggravating because of how rife it is with ungodliness.  If you're not forced to compromise your beliefs for just a chance to get on stage, you are bombarded by sexuality from every possible angle.  And that's fine, as far as those things go -- at least I expect that from a fallen world.  What really gets to me is that Christians don't care to change it or they have given up entirely.
    Yes, the Greeks are credited with inventing theatre during the licentious festivals of Dionysus and it certainly was unclean there, but we have to ask ourselves: What is theatre at it's heart?
    Theatre is a medium for telling stories.
    Is God not the greatest storyteller -- the greatest playwright -- of all time?  Why then have Christians abandoned such an excellent art form to pagan culture?  Or, if not wholly abandoning it, why have Christians tried to make it into something it is not?
    Perhaps it is that Christians no longer understand the meaning of "dominion".  God commanded man to have dominion over the earth, and that includes art.  Does not Christ, at this moment, reign over all the earth as the One, True King?  Why, then, do Christians not act like it?  Christians should view theatre -- like everything else -- as God's possession.  Theatre is a specific art form with an objective standard of excellence: to glorify God.
    If this is true -- if theatre is God's and we, as Christians, are to glorify Him through it -- then why would a person be very hard-pressed to find a theatrical company that doesn't rehearse and/or perform on Sundays?  Why, upon finding this theatrical company, does a person find a stupid (and I use that word deliberately) "Christian" theatre that is more concerned with evangelism than telling a good story, to the detriment of both?
    If theatre is God's then why can't a Christian, if it is his calling, go to school to learn his trade without having to work on Sundays or fear of compromising his morals?  Granted, there are Christian colleges out there with drama programs, but they are by no means excellent nor are they artistic.  It's the same old theatre-as-evangelism poppycock that one sees across the country.
    Because Christians haven't seen fit to call theatre "good" and make quality work in the field, it leaves Christians with the talent, the desire, and the calling to act, direct, write, and produce without a godly way to do so.  There is no way to gain experience, no way to learn our craft, and no venue to produce and perform quality works.
    So where does that leave us?  Should we just give up?  Should we tell the pagan world, "Take your theatre, we'll have nothing to do with it!" and leave our thespian brethren chained to desks pushing papers in high rises while their hearts ache for 42nd Street?  Or should we make ways for the artists to learn their craft so that Christians can make theatre better than the pagans could ever dream?
    We should encourage our fellow Christians to pursue their art that people might say:
    "Stephen Sondheim?  He wasn't a true lyricist.  Listen to the words of THIS guy." 
    "Chita Rivera?  She was alright, but just look at HIM dance." 
    "Yeah, Ian McKellen can act, but not near as well as SHE can." 
    "You shouldn't even try to compare the trite compositions of Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx to the masterful artistry of THIS GUY."
    Ordinary grace did well, but just look at what saving grace can do.

Logical Foolishness

    There is a very short, but packed, list of reasons why a Christian should not pursue a career in theatre and I have often struggled with my choice to pursue this career because of them.

- Rehearsals and performances inevitably fall on the Lord's Day.
- The number of roles and shows that do not compromise a Christian's principles continue to dwindle.
- A sort of unorganized "gay mafia" pulls the strings of Equity theatres forcing the Christian to speak carefully regarding his God's abhorrence of sodomy.
- A strange and disgusting sort of openness about sexuality pervades rehearsals and backstage during shows. 

    Perhaps it is my tenacity, perhaps it is my enormous love for the theatre, or maybe it's just my stupidity, but, despite all the possible arguments against it, I can't seem to give up my pursuit.
    There is one thing that keeps me hanging on.
    I've often heard it said that Christians should not pursue theatre today.  My question is, if not today, then when?  If Christians abandon the theatre world, not encouraging those with the talent -- maybe even the call -- to pursue what may be their vocation, then we have given over theatre to the pagans and Christians will never be able to participate.
    The surrender is already happening.  Christians, as a whole, have been withdrawing themselves from the theatre-at-large for a long time -- or, if they have not, then they (like Kristin Chenoweth) have compromised their principles to satisfy the "gay mafia".
    The Christians who have not completely abandoned the theatre in physical sense have done so artistically.  These are the people who write campy, trite, and laughable theatre that preaches more than it entertains.  They have surrendered the good stuff to the pagans and settled for passion plays and morality plays worthy of the scoffing they receive from both the pagans and people like myself.
    I would, somehow, like to stop this surrender.  I don't know how it is possible: perhaps simply by sticking to my guns, maybe by starting my own theatre company . . . I don't know.  But I refuse to believe that that the only places left for Christian theatre-lovers are high-school drama, evangelical fluff, or the audience.
    God commands we have dominion over the earth and I don't believe he made an exception for the arts.

Seeing the Big Picture

    In my admittedly limited experience in the theatre world, I have observed three different types of actors: the egomaniacal actor, the workcentric actor, and the big picture actor.
    The first -- and most annoying and aggravating -- is that narcissistic, egocentric, drama queen who must have the leading part.  He views all other parts (most especially chorus or ensemble parts) as wholly inferior and nearly pointless.  As such, when he gets these "inferior" parts -- which, because of his attitude, he usually does -- he complains and moans throughout the entire rehearsal process (and sometimes the run of the show) and does not perform to the best of his ability.  This is the type of actor I would dearly love to slap upside the head and tell to get over himself, that the show is about more than just him.  Of course, even if I did this, he wouldn't listen.  It would just serve as more fodder for complaint.
    The second type -- the category that most actors fall into -- is the kind who will take any work that comes to him: chorus, ensemble, featured, supporting, or lead.  He would, of course, rather have the leading role, but smaller roles are fine too -- just as long as he is working.  He still sees the leading role as the most important, but will take the smaller roles if he must.  He is much like the egomaniacal drama queen in that he, also, sees the non-leading roles as unimportant -- throw-away parts.  Because of this, when "stuck" with the smaller roles, this actor will also give less than his best.
    The third -- and most rare -- type of actor sees the show as a whole and his character's role in the show's context.  He sees that without his part the show, though it may not fall, the show will be drastically altered.  What is Pippin without its players?  West Side Story without its Jets or Sharks?  Les Miserables without its idealistic students?  Less than nothing.   What is My Fair Lady without Zoltan Karparthy?  Parade without Newt Lee?  Sweeney Todd without the Beggar Woman?  Cookie-cutter stories with trite endings.
    The actor who sees the big picture and his character's role within that picture is the actor who works the hardest and brings his character to life with energy and depth.  This is the actor that can make or break a show.  This is the actor that directors want to cast.
    This is the actor I aspire to be.