Being in a theatrical production is lots of work and effort, but the rewards make it well beyond worth it. This past production of "Grease" has been absolutely inspirational and one of the best shows I have been in. It is really cool what Wildwood Summer Theatre was able to accomplish this past production. However, this can create quite the unfortunate dilemma: what to do once a production ends?
Since middle school, I have been actively involved in theatre, always with the same moment. I will never forget, as a sixth grader, sitting on my bed in complete tears after my first ever show ended. A gaping hole had appeared in my life and I had no idea how to comprehend it. I will never forget closing night of every high school production I did, almost always in tears from the sheer raw emotion of the moment.
Certainly, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. And when one door closes, another opens. But words are often not good enough to overcome the sadness of a production ending, only time can heal the wound. What makes these moments so saddening is hard to fully explain in words. However, in the spirit of the moment, I have decided to give it a go.
First, when involved with a production, you meet a bunch of fantastic, similarly interested people. You then spend hours upon hours with them, creating bonds both onstage and offstage. A blocking mistake can lead to an inside joke. A director's inspirational tactic can embed a collective meaning to a scene or show. A long time struggle with a piece of music or choreography can create a shared hardship and determination with your fellow cast-mates. And when you finally succeed at it, you exclaim together with unfathomable joy. In short, your fellow company members become your family. You see them almost every day, for an extended period of time. You get to know them really well. After the production ends, there are no more rehearsals, nor tech sessions aside from strike. You get separated from your family. And while you see them around, it is not quite the same.
Secondly, the internalization of the script, the music, the blocking and the choreography will likely never be used again. In the course of this production, as cliché as it sounds, “Greased Lightning” has become not just my favorite number in the show, but probably one of my favorite songs to be in ever. The music is so much fun and the choreography is absolutely fantastic. But, while I can always sing along and do the dance by myself, nothing will compete with the pure energy and emotion that comes from doing it onstage with ten other guys. It only lives on in memory, not to be performed live again. The same goes with any fun scenes that get blocked, or the downright hilarious lines that fit in the sequence.
Thirdly, suddenly, when a production ends, you have so much more free time which you do not know what to do with. In high school, I stayed after school more afternoons than I actually rode the bus home. There was almost always theatre after school, while Saturdays were left for tech sessions. When a show ends, all that time becomes freed up, leaving you uncertain of what to do. While on the surface it seems OK, in reality, it is not because you lose a piece of your everyday self and you have no way to recover it.
The end of a production creates lots of emotion within a participating member, often moving the individual to tears. I have been privy to this on many occasions. It becomes a true rollercoaster, leaving you in a deep distraught state of both amazement and sadness. But, as the great Jim Valvano would likely agree, being moved to tears is not necessarily a bad thing. It, in fact, is part of a full day. And when you love theatre as much as this production did, there is always another show around the corner to be involved with.
