now playing at the Falcon Theatre.
Everything was geared towards Opening Night, which was last Friday. We had seven previews to tinker. Thanks to all the guinea pigs who attended one of those shows. Come back. It’s different now.
The Saturday night before Opening we had a great crowd. I told the cast I really got the chance to hear what jokes worked and didn’t so to expect a blizzard of new jokes tomorrow. I wasn’t going to do that to them every day, and they’d have several days to learn them, but I warned them they were coming. I then went home and rewrote until 4:30.
Sure enough the new jokes helped. Most worked. I felt I was plugging up holes.
The Wednesday and Thursday previews played okay. The actors were still feeling their way a little. I told them I was not going to give them any more lines this week and they could just learn what they had. Of course I lied and gave them a couple.
Hey, I’m so neurotic I rewrote the pre-show turn-off-your-cellphones announcement. Why not get a few chuckles even before the show and send the message to the audience that it's okay to laugh. (Preferred even.)
Friday was Opening Night. What they don’t tell you is that opening day of opening night is murder. I kind of walked around in a daze, just looking for things to do, but I’ll be honest, I was in a constant state of anxiety. I don’t wonder how Neil Simon wrote so many plays. I wonder how he survived so many opening days.
I picked up some Opening Night gifts for the cast and some crew members. That killed a little time. I stopped off at nearby Vendome Liquor and bumped into my radio friend, Rick Dees. He had this bottle of bourbon and invited me to take a sip. I did. It was good. He then told me the bottle cost $2000. Wow. It’s a good thing I didn’t ask for some ginger ale to go with it. We made plans to get lunch and I’ll return the favor by offering a sip of some vintage Mogan David’s.
Some playwrights like to pace in the back during the show but there’s no space to pace. So I sat in the last row with my family and the Marshalls two seats over.
Boy, I can’t tell you how relieved I was to hear the first big laugh. And the second. And that they came within the first couple of minutes not hours. Garry was even laughing. I still couldn’t breathe because at any moment the laughs could stop. But thankfully they continued, the cast rose to new heights, and everything finally came together. I was able to exhale for the first time in two days. Seriously, how does Neil Simon do it?
Now the show is in its run. Five performances a week. Come see it. I’m there every night. How often do I have a play in production? Am I still giving them new lines? Only a few. And not every day. Honest. Like today. No new lines today. Okay, today is a day off. But still.
Hope you enjoyed this series on the making of my play. If I ever become a Benihana chef I will chronicle that journey too, assuming I still have any fingers.