Challenging Fun

The statement: “I’m a theatre major.”  The common responses: “Oh fun!” “So, you’re like gonna be on Broadway or something?”  “That must be like not even being in school!”  What I want to say back: “It is, but it’s also hard work.” “Absolutely not.  Even performance majors have to work very hard to get to that point.”  “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

An issue that has come up in many of my classes and conversations with friends lately has been this idea of the easy major, the non-serious major, the idea that having fun and making a life are completely separate things.  Honestly, I’m offended, as are many of the others engaged in this constant struggle for legitimacy.  Our gut response tends to be, “Why shouldn’t it be fun?” but I’d like to dig a little deeper than that.

Chances are, if someone asked why go to the theatre, you’d say to be entertained or something along those lines.  Good, great, wonderful.  I hope that the shows you see succeed.  However, there are millions of ways to be entertained.  The means by which The Phantom of the Opera, Endgame, and The Odd Couple entertain you are entirely different.  So let’s change up our word choice a little.  Let’s say that you go to the theatre to be fulfilled. Oo, things just got a little more serious.  There is a contract between you as an audience member and the production that you will get something out of the show.

As a theatrical company, then, we have an obligation to make sure that you leave with something new.  What that thing is differs from production to production—laughing harder than you have in years, realizing that your relationship with your parents was way more complicated than you thought, a new perspective on race in the 1960s—whatever it is, we are providing a service.  That is what you pay for.  Now how many people are involved in achieving this goal?  That varies from theatre to theatre, but let’s say we have actors, a director, designers, a stage manager, a backstage crew, a writer, a producer, a marketing team, a literary office, a development office, an artistic director, and a managing director.  Wow.  That’s a lot of people.

Now these people have “fun” jobs.  They enjoy what they do.  Good for them.  If you don’t enjoy your job, you might want to reevaluate your choices.  Why is me having fun at my work any different than you having fun at yours?  All of these people have to work together to achieve this goal of giving you, the audience, something new to carry with you as you exit the theatre.  This begins in planning a season, and goes all the way to selling tickets and striking the set after the final curtain.  There are so many steps in that process, and they are not always fun.  They are challenging and stimulating, and sometimes they involve fights and hard-fought compromises.

Right now, I am finishing my second play.  It is driving me to the brink of insanity.  I sit staring at the blinking cursor wondering how the hell I am going to wrap this thing up.  What am I trying to say?  Who am I trying to reach?  What is propelling the plot forward?  At the same time, I am working on Beaux’ Stratagem, watching actors struggle through comedic timing while still dissecting their characters’ intentions.  My theatre back home is producing my first play, and the director is taking on the task of getting the play on its feet and staying true to my vision with practical space concerns.  Each member of each team is busting their ass making sure that the product that you finally see is outstanding.  We might not work nine to five, but there is no way you can say we are not working.

So yes.  We get to do what we love, and for that we are grateful.  There are incredibly rewarding moments sometimes, the eruption of laughter when you hit a joke just right or hearing our words come to life or seeing our renderings materialized on stage.  But along the way, as with any job, there are challenges.  There are tear-filled nights and hours of thought.

So sure.  My job is fun, but that is only the beginning.