December 14, 2016 § Leave a comment
By Joe Keefe – Metropolis Executive/Artistic Director
The intriguing title of our latest show is It’s a Wonderful Life: A Live Radio Play. Both elements – Wonderful Life and Radio Play – seem familiar to many people but they also bear a little explanation.
It’s a Wonderful Life is, of course, the classic story of George Bailey, a small-town dreamer and family man who faces financial ruin but unknowingly turns to his guardian angel for redemption. Through a miracle of faith, George is shown what the world would be without his presence and the alternative results are pretty darn bleak. Finding his value (and maybe his soul) through the good works he had already done, George is reborn into his new and wonderful world.
So what is a “radio play”? Yes, you would be correct to assume it’s a play on the radio but it’s also much, much more than words broadcast by actors. This form of drama evokes the primary mechanisms of stagecraft: imagination, fascination and, the fundamental component of all fiction, suspension of disbelief.
In our Wonderful Life, you are immersed not only in the radio play but also the creation of the live show itself as the actors immediately transform from character to character, voice to voice with breathtaking speed. Our “Foley Table” Expert skillfully crafts live effects through the use of everyday items, blending noises and sounds the way an orchestra conductor crafts a great symphony.
This radio play is much more than simply hearing a story. You become part of the creation of the play as it weaves in front of you. George Bailey’s classic tale unfolds in a whole new way as you hear the characters come to life before your very ears. You see the interaction of the actors as they strive for each moment and you experience the urgent immediacy of every dramatic peak and valley.
Our Wonderful Life perfectly exemplifies our mission at Metropolis: a classic story told in an engaging, mesmerizing way. The first-rate cast, design and production merge into a seamless story that brings a smile while also producing a tear or two. Before the holidays come to a close, make sure to see and hear this truly Wonderful Life.
November 7, 2016 § Leave a comment
IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE: A LIVE RADIO PLAY
September 22, 2016 § Leave a comment
Young Frankenstein cast member, Ryan Jozaitis shares his journey from Metropolis School of the Performing Arts student, to camp counselor, to main stage actor.
I remember the first time I stepped foot into Metropolis. It was to see a production of High
School Musical in 2007. My camp counselor at the time, friend, and fellow Cubs fan, Mike Miserendino was in it and was playing “Ryan”. After seeing the show, I was so inspired and I had to get more involved. I heard that there was a workshop and a “meet the cast” event that I could attend. I of course signed up! The day of the workshop was the first time I got to be on the Metropolis stage. It was such an amazing feeling to be on the stage with the cast trying to dance, sing, and keep up with them.
In 2009, I heard there were auditions being held for the Metropolis High School Performance Experience production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, which was my favorite musical at that time. I had to audition. After the audition, I got a phone call from Robin Hughes and found out I had been cast as “Benjamin”, the youngest brother. Little did I know, this wouldn’t be the last time I got a phone call from Robin. This was my first time performing on the Metropolis stage with my new friends and very supportive directors, Robin Hughes and assistant director Jeff Mazzuca. After Joseph…, I was hooked and had to come back every summer for the High School Performance Experience camp.
In the summer of 2011 I interviewed to become a camp counselor with Kate Schwarz, the camp director at the time, allowing me the opportunity to inspire 1 st -3 rd graders who were wanting to perform just like me. I began my early morning shifts with a bunch of loud and crazy young actors and actresses. Throughout the four years of working with my co-workers and these amazingly talented students, my love for the craft grew because I was constantly inspired by their ability to go out on stage and perform flawlessly. Well, maybe not flawlessly, but in their eyes it was the most exciting and fun moment of their lives, which they will never forget. Because of this and many other reasons, I was encouraged to eventually audition professionally.
Last summer, I was blessed to take the stage once again, this time professionally, in a production of Moon Over Buffalo with the new yet very accomplished Eclectic Full Contact Theatre Company. Throughout the duration of the show, I was able to experience a professional atmosphere and make long-lasting friends whom I will never forget. Whenever I leave Metropolis after a project, I always wonder when I will be back next. I am so happy to be back here to perform in Young Frankenstein with this immensely talented cast and crew.
August 19, 2016 § Leave a comment
July 28, 2016 § Leave a comment
Comedy is hard. That’s a truism that’s been stated by actors since Shakespeare tugged on his first pair of tights. The Greeks probably said it first, but nobody understood it. After all, it was all Greek to them. See? I told you comedy is hard.
Everyone says it, but very few people actually believe it. Everybody thinks they can tell a joke, or be a clown, or just flat out be funny. And usually, they fail. But people still believe that funny is easy. Why? Because when people who are good at it do it, it LOOKS easy. It seems as if everything just flows from them with no effort. But that’s not the case. Comedy takes effort. A LOT of effort. I should know. I’ve been working at it for over 30 years, ever since I discovered that if I made kids laugh, they were less likely to hit me. But seriously, folks, I have been a student of comedy since a very young age, and what I love most about comedy is its structure and fragility.
Why, Andrew, what do you mean? I’m assuming you’re asking that, otherwise I have no impetus to write the rest of this blog. Comedy obviously has structure, regardless of what some bad late night sketch shows may try to make you believe. There’s a rhythm, a melody, a tempo to comedy, just like there is to music. It’s all in the timing, as the saying goes. You watch a great comedian, a Robin Williams, for example, and his act seems to be a concert. You can groove to the comedy as if you were listening to really great jazz. Knowledge of that structure is paramount to understanding, and succeeding at, comedy. Without it, you’re a kid with no breath support spitting into a trumpet. The cat may think it’s found a new girlfriend, but nobody else is going to want to hear it.
But that structure is fragile. Ever hear someone tell a joke badly? Not a bad joke, but a good joke in a way that makes you not laugh? It’s so easy to go from killer joke to dying onstage. That sense of timing, the intuitive understanding of how to deliver comedy, it is like the barest of breaths. Breathe at the wrong moment, and you go from being Jonathan Winters to being Pauly Shore.
So obviously, since comedy is so hard, so fragile, so easy to screw up, I decided to write a show about it. Because hey, taking one’s own advice is so silly. Mostly because I wanted to get these ideas across to people, I wanted to remind them of the acts that came before us, the ones that underpinned what we laugh at today, and I wanted to hear a bunch of people sitting in a theatre laugh at me. Firstly, because I like having my ego stroked. But also because laughter, and comedy, has an amazing ability to soften hard truths and make things easier to take. And while “The History of Comedy” might not change the world, it will make your sides hurt. And if you’re not careful, you might just learn something.
July 12, 2016 § Leave a comment
February 17, 2016 § Leave a comment
Often, when thinking about what makes a great actor, the word “versatility” gets bandied about. The ability to convincingly play several different types of characters is highly lauded in the theatre. It’s an attribute that most actors strive to develop, and as a theatre teacher, it’s an attribute that I try to instill in my students. Fortunately, it also appears to be an attribute, as far as Metropolis is concerned, that I possess, since they have cast me now in several shows where I am required to play multiple roles within the same show.
It’s a unique situation that brings with it some interesting, and unexpected challenges. “But Andrew,” you may ask, “what are those challenges? I mean, if you play different characters, you just come out in different costumes, right?” The simple answer is yes. But The 39 Steps is anything but simple. Firstly, as I tell my students, every person has a different physicality–the way they walk, stand, hold themselves, gesture, etc. Each character you play onstage needs a different physicality. This is not only for the truth of the person you’re portraying, but also because it helps the audience instantly recognize the fact you are someone different. And that is necessary because unlike some other shows, where people playing multiple roles have plenty of offstage time to change not only their costumes, but in some cases, style their hair differently or add makeup effects, the actors playing multiple roles in The 39 Steps are often required to change characters within the span of seconds. Sometimes we change characters onstage in full view of the audience, switching back and forth at breakneck speed. This makes being able to develop and remember different physical traits for each character essential so the audience doesn’t get confused.
Speaking of breakneck speed, the actors playing the two Clowns (who play all but four roles in the show) are also responsible for the lion’s share of the set changes. Because this show is based on a movie, there are A LOT of scene changes. So, not only do we, as actors, have to change our physicality and costumes in the blink of an eye, we must also, at the same time, manipulate large wheeled platforms and even larger wheeled set pieces rolling on and offstage, very often trying to change clothes or grab a prop at the same time, while also avoiding the other large wheeled set pieces sitting backstage. It is chaos. But, thanks to the incredible help of the two-person set crew backstage (yes, you read that right–two people) the chaos is controlled and is reduced to merely mayhem.
Because there are only four actors in the show, all of us spend a lot of our time running (sometimes literally–at one point in the show I am sprinting full speed from an exit on one side of the stage to reach an entrance on the other side within about four lines) from one side of the stage to the other. The 39 Steps is an incredibly physical show. I liken it to a two hour sprint. It is both physically and technically demanding. Your mind, as an actor, has to constantly be working along two parallel lines–what you are doing onstage as an actor, creating believable characters for the audience, and where the next platform full of furniture has to be set before you run offstage, grab a coat and a wig, sprint to the other side of the stage and come on as a completely DIFFERENT believable character for the audience. It’s taxing, it’s exhausting, and when you’re in your 40’s, like I am, you wake up a lot of mornings with your body wondering why you hate it so much. But when it all comes together, when the costume change fits perfectly in the space right after you set the door flat and you somehow manage to worm your way through the rest of the set pieces backstage to make your entrance on the exact line necessary to get a huge laugh from the audience, it is also exhilarating. And the beautiful thing is, this production, even before an audience has seen it, has reached that exhilaration point. It is fast-paced, well-timed, and hilarious. It’s a joy to work on, and the challenge of creating more characters than should be allowed in such a short span of time is a challenge I relish. Come see it. You never know–you might just catch my full out sprint if you watch closely enough.