Reviews are a large part of theatrical life. They affect box office, actors and directors and producers alike, the theatre, the length of the run, playwrights, and the future life of their plays, and, like it or not, performances. A bad review can make an actor try to do more, or less, or different, and a good review can do the same. An indifferent review can do all of the above, often in the same performance, adding a touch of confusion to the mix. It usually takes time, and many reviews, to learn this. Here’s what happened to me.
REUNION was the third show I was in, and the production was blessed with a savvy director and a cast of young beginners who all related to their characters, and gave terrific performances. I had one of the lead roles and, I recall, felt completely natural in performance. The day after our first performance, I was waiting in the hallway outside the black box space preparing to go in at the top of the show, when my director comes up to me and says, “I wasn’t going to show you this, but here,” and he gives me a copy of the review of the play from one of the major newspapers in Honolulu, and leaves. I was at places, what could I do? I read it, of course.
Ron Nakahara, a terrific actor, gives a beautiful, moving performance in a wonderful play. I hope to see him again and again in many, many plays, he has a great future as an actor, and blah, blah, blah…I remember absolutely nothing about that day’s performance, a total blank, except for the review. I remember thinking of it from time to time in the show, wow, that was great, gee, that was nice…It wasn’t what I wrote above, but it was in that vein. My first review, a rave, and it blew my performance to bits. But the show went on, and it was good, I heard. But not for me. After the show, I confronted Ed, the director, what was he thinking? And he was laughing so hard that he led me to know he was showing me something. Reviews. Dangerous things. Thanks, Ed.
