Life is But a Stage... :: Personal Narrative Essay Example

Life is But a Stage... Â   This fall I performed the role of Stage Manager in the local high school production of Thornton Wilder's Our Town. Our director didn't cast the role as the traditional lead, white male that most productions use; we cut the role into two female parts of different race. Without the traditional portrayal to fall back on, we had to create our characters from scratch. The thought crossed my mind a few times that my character didn't really have a name. Certain names remind you of stereotypes, and based on a name you can make some easy, general choices on how to portray that character. Mindy is a ditz, Christine can easily be a nerd, and Irma can make a nice old maid. That name association gives you a point to start from, after which you can explore other things. But where on earth do you start with a name like Stage? Â   I formed an image of a guy wearing dirty overalls, walking barefoot and playing guitar outside his cabin in the woods. He liked to philosophize about the world, and found that a little Bailey's in his coffee made that world slightly clearer. He didn't need people around and didn't completely understand them -- or maybe he did, and just got frustrated because they didn't understand themselves. He usually walked with his hands in his pockets, looking either up at the trees or down at the ground, but never focused at eye level. Somewhere in the process I adopted a feminine perspective on my character, very much a tomboy but also very much a woman. Â   At two points in the show I took on other roles. . . in Act Two I played the minister at the wedding, which was a background character and not very distinct. Then, with fairly short notice I took on the role of Joe the undertaker in Act Three. I learned the blocking and the lines quickly, but my problem was that I had to change into Joe right on-stage, and just after my favorite Stage Manager speech. I decided to use a few simple physical traits to help get into character. First I buttoned my shirt, which in three seconds was the only thing I could think of to give the audience some clue that I was changing identities. I developed a squint, changed the tone of my voice, and I gave Joe a limp by keeping my left knee locked.