Metamorphosis The Story of Marilyn MonroeChapter 11
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Audrey and I needed to make our first cut. I gave everyone a lunch break. Some stayed.
We huddled up and discussed whom we were keeping. If she would take it, Darlene would make a wonderful Gladys, getting to sing two first act songs. We were still short men, but we still had plenty of talented people to cast this show from.
We went to the car and created our cut down list, and printed and posted it on both doors to the theatre. We sat on the edge of the stage watching all kinds of emotions.
There were those who:
Expected to get in, and did.
Expected to get in, and didn’t, and walked away
Expected to get in, and didn’t, and stomped away
Got in and quietly raised a fist in approval
Got in and whooped and hollered.
I saw Darlene walk in, back in street clothes and no wig. She went through the list, and saw her name and got on the phone immediately, probably to Daddy.
Everybody else came back and was assembled; now taking up half the space from before.
I got up on stage and cleared my throat, getting the few conversations to stop.
“OK, a few announcements before we start up doing scenes. Except for men over 40, we have enough people to practically triple cast this show. I don’t normally believe in understudies, sitting and waiting for someone to get a cold, or a broken leg, but in the case of this show, there will be a few.”
They all chucked at that.
“After the scene work, I will be cutting again, and putting it online. There aren’t any big dance production numbers in this, there will be some musical staging, and those on our next cut list will need to show up tomorrow ready to dance.”
“The part of the oldest Norma and Marilyn has been Cast -- Audrey Louis has consented to do the part. Her understudy will be Darlene Simpson.”
Everybody applauded as I saw Darlene mouth, ‘Thank you’ to me from the front row.
“All understudies will be expected to learn their lines as quickly as everybody else. The two Sunday performances will be the Understudies, Any questions? Good, let’s do some acting, shall we?”
We started with the three youngest Norma Jeane’s, having each of them do the same scene, with Gladys. I had a couple of nice older ladies do it a couple of times each, “Darlene, could you come up and read Gladys a few times with these young ladies?”
Surprised, she got up and looked over the script for a second, then read it with 11-year-old Beverly Watkins.
NORMA “Momma, who was my Daddy?”
GLADYS “Shut up, will you – who was my Daddy – who was my daddy, that is all you can ever say to me!”
NORMA “All of the kids at school tease me about it, that’s why I keep asking?”
GLADYS “He died before you were born Norma – he wasn’t any good to me, so he wouldn’t have been any good to you either.”
“Hold it a second, Darlene – I know you may be too young to understand this, but not all mothers like their kids, try it again with a little more dislike.”
“But, she’s so cute, Richard, I can’t be mean to her?” Darlene said as the people on stage all laughed.
“Don’t think of her as cute, think of her as an inconvenience in your life. Your other kids are good, she’s a little ... spitfire, OK?”
She did it again and was right on the mark, everyone could tell, applauding for her scene work. Beverly was even better, but that often happens in theatre.
We went on, putting the rest of the young girls through their paces.
“All of the young ladies I just saw, can go,” I said.
We went through the rest of the people, some showing they had acting chops while others were shot down in flames the moment you put the printed word in front of them.
Darlene came up to me and said, “I know what my Daddy said to you last year, and I apologize for him. I really like the part of Gladys; would I have to give up my Norma Understudy to play it?”
“Not necessarily, I could have a Gladys understudy and that would solve that. Gladys is yours, if you want it?” I said.
Darlene looked at Audrey -- who nodded -- and then Darlene hugged the stuffing out of me.
“I wish I could’ve heard your audition, Mrs. Louis, they all tell me you were fabulous.”
And she left, practically skipping out of the theatre.
“She certainly is different from her father, wouldn’t you say, hubby?”
“If I were her, I’d ask for a DNA test,” I countered.
“EVERYBODY -- TOMORROW AT 11am,” I yelled.
“I don’t want to make another cut until I find out if anybody has two left feet,” I said to my wife.
The next day at auditions we all had lots of fun, Maurice came back to play. We gave him a complete musical score, which he was looking over as I was teaching the actors some basic movements of dance.
I asked him to play some of ‘Isn’t It You, ‘ to help me see how each of my younger Norma’s handle taking direction and moving their feet at the same time...
I asked Audrey to sing some of it for the girls; Maurice was ready, already playing some soft chords;
“Someone once told me
that dads are important, but...
Nobody said -- just how important...
That everyone else
has a daddy, isn’t it true?”
“I need a daddy,
a nice to me daddy,
A really astonishing...
Fab-u-lous daddy;
Tell me please,
I need a daddy
isn’t it you?”
Haven
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