BE MORE CHILL Fandom

Of course we here at Two River have been thrilled by the recent resurgence in #bemorechillmusical mania, and the gigantic international fandom of "chillpills" that have popped up in every corner of the globe (literally) thanks to the cast album, YouTube, and all forms of social media.

The company of BE MORE CHILL. Photo by T. Charles Erickson.

Our marketing department's multimedia manager, Alycia Yerves (a BMC nerd all the way), runs all of our social media accounts and has been tracking this phenomenon over the last few months online. We get DM's and comments every day with so many requests, most of them begging us to bring the show back and we want to let you know that it's just not as simple as that.

The company of BE MORE CHILL. Photo by T. Charles Erickson.

We thought you might be interested in learning more about what goes into the process at a professional regional theater. Hopefully it clarifies some things. Below is a guest post from our Literary Manager, Anika Chapin, who is ALSO a huge #bemorechill nerd and works in our Artistic Department. We think she explains it best. Read below, and THANK YOU for loving our show!!! 

"We’ve been hearing a lot that people would love to have the show come back, and we love hearing that – we are so proud of BE MORE CHILL, and we’re thrilled that you all are discovering it and loving as much as we do. And we wish you could all have seen the truly magical production that premiered here in 2015,  but alas it’s a little more complicated than us simply bringing that production back here. 

We’re a regional theater, which means that we plan a year of productions, with short runs, in advance – unlike Broadway, where a successful show can run forever and ever (looking at you, PHANTOM), our shows can only complete the runs they have planned, with perhaps a week’s extension if they’re very popular (which BE MORE CHILL had). Then we need to get the next play or musical up and running, in order to give our audience a variety of different theater experiences. 

I’m the Literary Manager here, which means part of my job is helping to choose the plays and musicals for the theater’s season, along with our Artistic Director John Dias and Associate Artistic Director Stephanie Coen. We program both plays and musicals, and both classics and new work, which means we have a lot of options for the six slots we have in a season. The season selection process begins at least a year in advance, which means that the shows on our stage in June 2017 were chosen in February of 2016. Our 2017/2018 season is already selected, which means that any show we would like to add to our lineup won’t be seen by audiences until the fall of 2018 at the very earliest. 

Not to mention that as much as we adore BE MORE CHILL and want it to be done everywhere (and believe me when I say that – I’m writing this sitting under a signed poster of the show and a lobby display board asking the audience who their SQUIP would be. I LOVE that show.) we are committed to giving new shows and new productions a chance to be seen on our stage. Also, it was via our commissioning program that Joe Tracz and Joe Iconis wrote BE MORE CHILL, and there are quite a few other projects we have cooking in that program that need their chance to shine. One of those projects just happens to be another musical by Joe Tracz and Joe Iconis, so keep an eye on our theater, and in the next few years you might be able to be the first in the audience for the next BE MORE CHILL!   

I don't want to break any hearts - we want to see a million productions of BE MORE CHILL happen around the world, but another production probably won't happen at Two River Theater. Much as we love it, and we really do, we're committed to bringing new pieces and productions into the world instead of bringing back one's we've already premiered. But we will do everything in our power to spread the love, and help the writers create more shows for us to obsess over!"

--Anika Chapin, Two River Theater's Literary Manager

BUY THE CAST ALBUM:

A Message from our Artistic Director

JOHN DIAS
(Photo by Danny Sanchez)

The following was written in mid-October by our Artistic Director, John Dias, and is included as a program note inside our playbill for The Lion in Winter. We decided to also publish it as a blog today.

A NOTE FROM THE ARTISTIC DIRECTOR JOHN DIAS

My fellow Americans, 

You’re sitting in the theater about to jump into the 12th Century and a quintessential drama of family strife and political maneuverings. But, it’s late October as I write this, and I’m still mired in the 21st Century’s nastiest drama yet of family strife and political maneuverings: the 2016 presidential election. 

You’re in a much better place. 

We Americans are often credited with a contribution to the canon of world culture with the establishment of “The American Family Drama.” Before that became an ironic way of describing the goings-on at our Thanksgiving dinner tables, it was a real genre within Western literature, exemplified by the work of our own pantheon of great dramatists, folks like Eugene O’Neill, Arthur Miller, Tennessee Williams, and Lorraine Hansberry. True, family drama has existed for eons—as long as there have been families, I reckon—in living rooms and onstage (think Greeks), but we Americans raised the bar. We credit its development through the 20th Century to, among many things, an influence of the concurrent developments in the world of psychological analysis and understanding led by Dr. Freud. In the imaginations of American playwrights, the old dramatic tropes of gods and kings and war become psychological battles among husband and wife, siblings, parents and children.  

Even though, with The Lion in Winter, James Goldman conjured up the English royal family in their castle in (what we now call) France—see the helpful essay later in the program for an explanation of how that makes sense—he’s actually written a great “American Family Drama.”  

Listen for Goldman’s prescience and insight. He’s reaching far into our human past and plunking it down in what was, for him, a very immediate present. And yet that present moment for him in 1966 feels as alive and relevant, fifty years later, in 2016. In 1966, Americans were just starting to recover from an era of internecine distrust and paranoia that was the communist “red scare” and the McCarthy trials. The Vietnam War was escalating. A civil rights movement and a new conversation about social justice were gathering steam, fueled by hopes and dreams as well as frustration and resentment. Change the names and faces and it could be today.  

The drama of politics and empire and world domination comes down to what we all recognize as a high-tension, holiday-time, family squabble. 

Putting a stop to a potential “knife-fight” among her sons, Queen Eleanor gets to the heart of the problem. Her youngest son John has just said about his brother, Richard: “A knife—he’s got a knife!” 

Eleanor responds:  

Of course he has a knife. He always has a knife. We all have knives. It is 1183 and we’re barbarians. How clear we make it. Oh, my piglets, we’re the origins of war. Not history’s forces, nor the times, nor justice, nor the lack of it, nor causes, nor religions, nor ideas, nor kinds of government, nor any other thing. We are the killers; we breed war.  We carry it, like syphilis, inside. Dead bodies rot in field and stream because the living ones are rotten. For the love of God, can’t we love one another just a little? That’s how peace begins. We have so much to love each other for. We have such possibilities, my children; we could change the world. 

So often, women really do know best. I’m sitting here feeling just like Eleanor. Stuck in the swamp that is this election, while all around us war rages and the rhetoric gets angrier and more debased. None of us seems capable of listening to the other—to our brother, our sister. And I think, “for the love of God, can’t we love one another just a little?” Right now, for me, just one week before the presidential election, that seems like a lot to ask. We’re only human, after all. But maybe that’s the point James Goldman is trying to make. We still want to believe that our leaders are like gods. But they’re not, literarily, and yet we need them to be a little superhuman.

I hope I’m not being naïve when I say I’m optimistic for our country and that I hope for the best for us. No matter who it is who’s finally elected to lead, I will support and respect and expect something superhuman. I’d be a liar to say I don’t have a wished-for outcome… but I really wish that in casting my vote I can also be voting for that which Eleanor craves: A little mutual understanding, some human respect and yes, a little peace.

Something Familiar, Something Peculiar: A Chat with Jessica Stone about her All-Male 'FORUM'

I love theater. And I have learned over the course of my career that great theater is adaptable; a great play or musical, when approached in a new way, will reveal new facets that can illuminate the whole with fresh insight. One of my favorite examples of this is our upcoming production of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, which I had the good luck to see in its earlier incarnation at the Williamstown Theater Festival in 2010. As always, the show (which is perhaps the greatest musical farce of all time) was hilarious and delightful. But this time around something was different; director Jessica Stone chose to stage the play with an all-male cast. I sat down with Jessica during a recent rehearsal of the show to talk to her about why she made this choice, and how it affects both the actors and the audience. 
        -Anika Chapin, Two River Theater Literary Manager

Jessica Stone

     

Which came first—the idea of doing the show or the idea of doing it with all men?

The idea happened before I ever started directing, when I was still working as an actor. Almost six years ago, [Williamstown Theatre Company Artistic Director] Nicky Martin was going to put it in his season, and he asked me to be in it. My first thought was, I don’t want to be in that show—and then I started thinking about why I had that response, because I’ve known the score since I was a kid, and I love it. But I thought about these stereotypes that have been passed down to us from Plautus, who was a male playwright writing for male actors (women weren’t allowed to act). These stereotypes are still with us today in plays, movies, and sitcoms. Female actors have become very familiar with the ‘dumb hottie,’ the ‘shrewish wife,’ and the ‘overly sexed, scantily clad vixen.’ I suggested to Nicky that he should do an all-male production, because it would be interesting to see what happens to the comedy if you make what’s basically an all-male show, actually all-male.

I’m not suggesting this is the only way Forum can be done now; I certainly think there are plenty of people who would be happy to see an old man chasing after a scantily clad woman. (Laughs) I’m not even suggesting that enjoying a traditional execution of the show is shallow. It is of its era, or two eras: both Ancient Rome and the 1960s. Not only is the source material written by a man for men but the adapted musical was written in the ‘60s by a bunch of men for a bunch of men. So it’s fine and delightful to do it in a traditional way, but why not try it this way and see what happens to the comedy if we’re not having to actually think about female slavery; or about the fact that this character doesn’t say a word, she’s just naked all night and gyrating; or, ‘oh, it’s interesting that the woman that Hero wants is an illiterate hooker but she’s still highborn so his honor is still intact.’ They are all male constructs: it’s basically an all-male show already. When I presented this argument to Nicky, he said, all right you do it. It was the first thing I ever directed, though I had been assisting directors for a while, (particularly Nicky) and he had always encouraged me to go in this direction.

It’s such a strong and wonderful approach to the show, to flip those archetypes

around. And to make a nod to its origins with Plautus and that era of theater.

We’re setting it in Ancient Rome, in the age of Augustus, who was the first Roman emperor after the assassination of Julius Caesar. The time is a little after Plautus, but it’s once there were permanent theaters in Rome—the idea is to establish that we are watching a scrappy troupe of Roman actors (hence the all-male thing) telling our tale. I also wanted it to be a company of guys that were somewhat in the same ballpark age-wise—late 20s to late 40s—so that we have this unified palette that’s playing all ages and all sexes, to highlight their virtuosity. And it works fairly well because Roman comedy itself was fairly self-conscious; the actors were constantly talking to the audience, and commenting on themselves and their parts.

And as you were working on the show, did anything surprise you?

I knew it was a really funny book with a great score, but I discovered how impeccably crafted it is. I think the book in particular is one of the best constructed books in musical comedy. And the score is so elegant it elevates the entire evening, it’s not just Borscht Belt humor. There are a thousand things that make Sondheim a theater legend. Lyrically, there’s no one who touches him; no one is the puzzle master that he is. But musically, Sondheim is both intellectual and emotional; I feel awe and admiration when hearing complex melodic structures while still feeling moved by the beauty.

When did you know the all-male casting would work?

Not until the first preview in Williamstown. The thing that’s interesting to me is that all of what works about Forum still works: the jokes are so fantastic. What we didn’t know until the first preview audience saw the show was how beautifully they responded to the courtesans—it became less about “look at that beautiful woman, and Pseudolus wants her so badly and he just can’t buy her yet.” But more, “look at that man working so hard to play that woman for real. This is just so silly and delicious.” It’s not drag at all, which is a totally different art form. It’s about actors really playing all of these different women, even the wordless ones, for real, with all of their stakes. And also, how fun would it be for the same guy who’s playing Senex, the dirty old man, to also be a courtesan? It makes it silly and interesting to watch the leering man also be the other side of the leer. “Everybody Ought to Have a Maid” is a spectacular song. Some today might argue that it’s very sexist. I’m not making that argument because it’s too complex a matter to delve into here. I will say that we really get to enjoy how spectacular the song is on a totally different level when they maid they’re singing about is played by a guy.

I totally agree. Seeing men play those roles and wear those archetypes made the characters come alive and highlighted ideas of femininity in ways I had never seen before. Later in the season we’re doing I Remember Mama with all women and that illuminates the specific femininity of the mother-daughter relationship and provides a different insight into that play the way that this all-male casting provides an insight into this play.

We can’t be afraid to take an existing thing and turn it inside out and explore it. Otherwise we’re not doing our job as artists.

The Season of Stories

To be honest, it's a pretty depressing day here at Two River Theater. After several weeks of performances, our production of Camelot ended its run last night. And, as we usually are when the set is being demolished, the stage is no longer filled with music, and the dressing rooms are again bare, we're all a little glum.

Of course, this is the nature of theater; part of the magic of these separate elements coming together to make a show is knowing that it's live, now, and only for a short time (unless your show is The Phantom of the Opera, of course.) And what you have are the memories of the piece, yours to keep forever, never to be experienced in quite the same way.

And of course, you have the story.

David Lee, the brilliant director and adapter of our Camelot, chose to change the framework of the show a bit; a troupe of players comes together to tell the legendary story of King Arthur, who tried to create a world in which Knights fought for good and equality reigned. At the end of the play, when Arthur meets Tom, a boy who has come to fight for Camelot based only on the stories he's heard, Arthur realizes that even if Camelot itself fell apart, the fact that it will live on in legend means that he has won. David chose to add a coda that pointed out the story's lineage, making Tom grow into Sir Thomas Malory, the author of 'Le Morte D'Arthur'. From there, the players track the story from him to the storytellers who told versions of the story throughout the ages, until it came to Lerner and Loewe, who wrote the show you had seen performed. By adding this coda, David was pointing out that you, as an audience member, were now part of a line of storytellers who stretched out over centuries, telling a story that illuminates crucial elements, both good and bad, of the human experience. Or, as the lyrics say:

Don't let it be forgot
That once there was a spot
For one brief shining moment 
That was known as Camelot.  

The age of Camelot is gone, even our Camelot is gone now, but the story will not be forgotten.

But it's not only ancient legends that get passed down through the generations. As often as I heard people exclaiming their love for the stories in Camelot, I've heard people celebrating their love of the stories at the heart of our next production: The Very Hungry Caterpillar, an adaptation (with charming puppets, by the Mermaid theater of Nova Scotia) of the beloved Eric Carle books. Written in only 1969, Caterpillar has only had one or two generations to enchant, as opposed to the thousands stretching back who have been hearing the tales of the round table. And yet, this story has already become firmly entrenched in the hearts and minds of children who have grown up hearing of the hungry Caterpillar's adventures, and in those of the parents who have shared them. Although the stories of chivalry and honor, of knightly quests and fair maidens, are very different from those of insects questing for their own version of the holy grail (or, wait, perhaps they're not so different after all...), there is something about these stories that sticks, that becomes part of a heritage of storytelling, passed on and shared.

Playwright Tanya Saracho and director Jerry Ruiz read 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar' (in two languages!) to the children of the Monmouth Day Care Center, as part of our Nosotros program.

As we approach the holiday season, doubtless you will be a part of your own storytelling traditions. Perhaps it's the annual screening of It's A Wonderful Life that your family watches every Christmas day, or the yearly reading of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas to the kids who are too excited to sleep on Christmas Eve. Perhaps it's the telling of the miraculous eight days of oil of the first Hanukkah, or the discussion of the seven principles of Kwanzaa.

Or maybe it's none of these at all. Maybe for your family it's the retelling of that time your grandfather first spied your grandmother across a high school dance hall, then told his friend she was the girl he was going to marry. Or the time your aunt put salt instead of sugar in the apple pie and everyone was too polite to say anything. Maybe it's happy memories of the good year gone by, or painful ones about hard times that will hopefully pass. Maybe it's a story you don't share with anyone, but keep tucked away in your own heart, just for you.

We here at the theater wish you all a very happy holiday season. But most of all, we wish you stories. Hopefully, some of them have come from us, and we promise that we have many more to share with you in the months and years to come. But as you gather with your loved ones over meals and around fires in the weeks to come, we hope that you tell stories, whether they are about ancient kings or peckish bugs or anything that thrills and delights, or even just makes you feel, a little more, what it is to be human.

Happy holidays.

The next generation of storyteller (in this case, Carter Aaron Mandel, grandson of Two River subscriber Linda Stamato), hard at work. 

A Musical Holiday

“Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful…”

Admit it: as you read that, you were singing along.

It’s now officially winter, snowy and wonderful (well, sometimes), and that means that it’s time for the most musical of seasons. All those reindeer with red noses that need to be sung about, all those Christmas carols, all those bells jingling all the way: December is a time for song.

We at Two River Theater certainly agree. We love December not only for the snow and the sparkly decorations and the plentiful cookies that start showing up in our office kitchen (and eaten - everyone knows you need an extra layer of insulation against cold winters!), but because it’s time for our holiday musical. And this year, we have one that is utterly delightful.

The Wind in the Willows is a classic, beloved by generations now. The stories of Rat and his friend Mole, and the animals of their community by a river, are as heart-warming as a mug of cocoa on a cold day. The writing team of Mindi Dickstein (book), Sarah Schlesinger (lyrics), and Mike Reid (music) have brought those stories to life, telling the story of lonely Mole’s search for a home for Christmas and the friends along the way, and added songs that are beautiful and fun – although, warning, they will get stuck in your head for days, (and you MIGHT get weird looks on the subway when you realize that you were accidentally singing Mrs. Otter’s song about being born to fish out loud instead of in your head. Not that that’s happened to me or anything.)

We’ve got all the things that makes a show delightful – a great cast, some of the coolest costumes around, and a set that is rather magical (look closely at the decorations around the proscenium – some of them are made out of such humble materials as raffle tickets and potato chip bags!). We love watching the show, but what we love watching even more is the kids watching the show; seeing their faces light up as their favorite character appears, or hearing them laugh at a joke, or watching as they realize it’s magically snowing on the audience - well, it’s a Christmas gift to us, every time. 

But don't take our word for it - come see the show. And just as a little teaser (or shall we say stocking stuffer?), here's a preview video:

And from all of us here at Two River Theater to all of you, may your cars be full of vroom, your brambleberries be sweet, your poems be beautiful, and your homes be warm and full of friends.* Happy Holidays. 

*this will all make more sense after you've seen the show. 

It's Happening, People. BOOK CLUB.

All of my life, I have been someone who loves to disappear into a story. Plays, musicals, books, TV shows, movies - I can spend hours enveloped in the world of a good story being told to me (sometimes to my detriment; I got one of the worst sunburns of my life when I was reading the final Harry Potter book - I got so carried away I didn't realize I was frying). But what I love almost as much as getting swept away in a piece of art is coming back and connecting with the other people who have taken the same journey. The joy of loving a story is doubled by sharing it with other people who love it, and learning more about it from their own perspectives. What's a better catalyst for a good conversation than a good piece of art?

Thus, one of the things I have always wanted to be a part of (and oddly never have been in) is a book club. The idea of good art combined with good company and good discussion is just a triple win, if you ask me. When I came to the theater, I realized that there was something else that I had overlooked before - what if there was a book club that didn't only discuss books, but discussed them in combination with the theater happening at Two River? Discussing books and plays that have connections to each other might illuminate facets of each previously unseen.

For example, during On Borrowed Time I was struck by how interesting the portrayal of death was in the play. Mr. Brink was not sinister or scary like the traditional scythe-wielding image, but rather (as embodied by the wonderful Tom Nelis) warm and wise and a little bit melancholy. It reminded me of the truly marvelous book The Book Thief by Markus Zuzak, about a German girl during the Holocaust, which has a similar portrayal of Death. How interesting that both of these works of art, written at very different times about very different eras and places, would share this unusual portrayal. What does it mean about their respective times? About the fears and feelings of their creators, and expected audiences? Does it change things if On Borrowed Time was intended for adults, knowing they are facing the oncoming specter of World War II, while The Book Thief is classified as a young adult book? Is there something about our current culture that would trigger the desire for Death to be seen as a benevolent figure instead of a terrifying one, despite the fact that our political climate is very different from pre-WWII America?

This is a discussion I want to have. And specifically, it's a discussion I want to have with Two River Theater audiences, who have proven themselves at talkbalks to be smart, receptive people with fascinating insights to share.

So, we're starting a book club. On Sunday, November 10th, at 5:00 PM, we'll kick it off in the Victoria J. Mastrobuono library, with some wine and cheese (because let's be honest, every discussion is better with wine and cheese). And we'll be discussing Martin Moran's heartbreaking and hilarious memoir 'The Tricky Part: A Boy's Story of Sexual Trespass, A Man's Journey Towards Forgiveness'. Talking about this book seemed too good an opportunity to pass up, since Martin is performing his two one-man plays, adapted from his memoir, in the theater during the same time. He'll come join us for part of the discussion, and to sign copies of the book, which is available on Amazon.com and at Barnes and Noble and at our box office.

So if you love discussing theater and you love discussing books, and you especially like doing things while eating cheese and drinking wine, please come! It's free, and hopefully it will just be the beginning of some fascinating conversations to come.

Guest Blog: Snickers Speaks!

Do we have a treat for you guys this beautiful Friday morning. For our very first guest blog, one of the stars of On Borrowed Time has graciously agreed to share some thoughts with us. She is a veteran of the stage and I think we can all agree that she has the most beautiful coat of the entire cast of 'On Borrowed Time'. I'm talking, of course, of the "grande dame of theatrical animals," (according to her bio) canine star Snickers, who plays the role of 'Betty' in 'On Borrowed Time'. Thanks to her and to her handler, Brian Michael Hoffman, for sharing her thoughts.
--Anika

Betty (played by Snickers) Woof Grr Arf "Betty:" (arf arf woof dog boy Brian) Grrr-arf, grr-bow-wow! Snausage awoo Two River ON BORROWED HOWL woof-woof Bill's Pups awooo arf Emcee! Arf-arf bark grumble toy...bow-wow grrrrrr-arf ball. Woof woof arf bark bark awoo whimper belly sniff sniff tree awoooo woof arf arf bark grrrrrrrrrrrrr Brink. Bark grrrrr bow-wow pismire awoooooooo arf arf "Betty" hoooooowl "awwwwww." AWOOOOOO! Bark bark opening!!! Arf arf tiny human oak tree, bow wow wooooof treats! Dog boy Brian bark bark bark arf woof bow wow pawtograph howl awooo pupparazzi! Awoooo.....dog boy whimper walking dead woof? Bill Berloni grrrr woof arf bow-wow rescue arf Toto, too. WOOF WOOF Broadway Barks Bernadette!  Woof arf bark bark second chance bow wow howl limelight! Arf!? Sniff sniff woof bark grrrrr arf Two River long walk sniff sniff! Howl woof arf bark bow-wow interweb dot facebark com twitt-grrr. Bark arf arf woof, Red Bank!!!! From the Desk of "Betty:" (as translated by Snickers' handler, Brian Michael Hoffman) Another opening, another show! What a treat (and I don't mean the Snausage-y kind!) to be a part of Two River Theater Company's ON BORROWED TIME, and, as the grand dame of William Berloni Theatrical Animals, to be directed by another legend of the stage, Mr. Joel Grey. I always love the rehearsal process: meeting my new pack...I mean fellow actors and truly playing with the text like a new squeak toy until I really feel comfortable with my blocking and listening to my fellow actors who throw lines back and forth like my favorite red ball. Then we get to the technical rehearsals where I meet all sorts of new friends who have built the amazing new world that I get to run around in. They all dress in black, but are very friendly and always seem to want to take time out of their day to rub my belly! Fine by me! They're all very protective of me around the huge tree we have onstage: I think they think I want to "water" it like I do other trees here in Red Bank (helping you keep your city green, I say!), but I know better...it doesn't smell alive...and I don't think that's just because of Mr. Brink! Although my stage time is limited, I know I play a very important role in the play and I love listening to the beginning of the second half of the show (after my Intermission walk, of course!) when Aunt Demetria tells everyone that "Betty" has died. Everyone "awws!" My favorite part, though, has to be opening night and this one was no different! My scene went very well! Oakes, the small human child I work with is very serious onstage but when we get offstage, he always looks for my tickle spot and scratches me behind my ear! I like him so much, I even share my treats with him sometimes! After my scene on opening night, my work was done and Brian did the "heavy lifting" at the opening night party: he carried me around making sure all the "big dogs" had a chance to meet me! He told everyone about me being a rescue, my history with Bill Berloni and my adventures on the yellow brick road and, sadly, did an excellent job of keeping me away from all the opening night goodies. (And he did all of that after getting shot onstage! It happens every night but he always comes back to my private dressing room. I still haven't figured that out...maybe he's a zombie?) Anyway, everyone was so excited to meet me and get my "paw-tograph" at the reception. I was happy to greet the pupparazzi and all of my fans, including my friend Bernadette Peters! She's so beautiful and kind...and a wonderful friend to all rescue animals, like me! She and my owner and trainer Bill both know that rescues are the best: we've sometimes come from some pretty bad situations and, when we get our forever home, we are getting our second chance!!! Mine just happens to be behind the footlights! Who'd a thunk it? Now that we've gotten thru opening, I'm settling into our normal show schedule. It's a pleasure to be here at Two River and I love the show....but I'm also enjoying the extra time during the day to sniff all of your great smells while exploring this great town!  For more information on me and all of Bill Berloni's other theatrical animals, please visit www.theatricalanimals.com You can also "like" us on Facebook ( https://www.facebook.com/pages/William-Berloni-Theatrical-Animals-Inc/160644103997612 ) and follow us on Twitter ( @BillBerloni ) Thanks for having me, Red Bank!!!!

Come See 'On Borrowed Time'!

Hey, remember August 20th? I do. It was my very first day here at Two River, and it was the very first day of rehearsal of 'On Borrowed Time'. My first official act as Literary Manager here was to go to the meet and greet (which, if you're not familiar, is pretty much exactly what it sounds like - everyone working on a show has a chance to introduce themselves, and then you mingle. Although since this is all usually done over a large spread of bagels, I think the name should officially be changed to 'meet, greet, and eat.')

Theater is magical in a number of ways, which would take over this blog if I attempted to list them all. But one of the most fundamentally amazing is the fact that something exists now that didn't a little over a month ago. On August 20th, a group of people met each other, many for the first time, and read through a script. And right now, if you go to our theater and sit in a seat, the lights will go up on a full and delightful world. In and around a house in the Midwest in 1938, a grandfather and his grandson will joke and bond, a community will face a conundrum they have never faced before, and death will get stuck in an apple tree. Through Joel Grey's beautifully realized production, you will feel like you know these people, and you will miss them when you go home for the night. And on August 19th, that world didn't exist. Isn't there something just so cool about that?

In my last post, I showed you a little glimpse into the creation of the show's tree. Now, I can show you a little bit of the actual show! It's but a snippet, but take a look. And if you like what you see, come see the show. I know it's a cliche to say that you'll laugh and cry, but you'll probably laugh and cry. I know I did.

Oh, and if you've seen the show already, please let us know what you think in the comments! Even if your comment is "I loved the show, but that Literary Manager sobbing down the row from me was a little distracting."