Last night, I saw my 3, 483,942 community theatre production of FIDDLER ON THE ROOF. I have a notorious soft spot for this show. It’s one of the first musicals I remember being introduced to as a child. Some of my fondest theatre memories are from the first production of it I ever did–where I played Motel. Having seen several (million bajillon) subsequent productions, I now realize that there are several unwritten rules that apply to every community theatre mounting:
- The director will feel obligated to cast more people than can usually fit on the available stage, as though actually trying to populate a small Eastern European vililage or outnumber the audience.
- Instead of hiding the worst actor in the company in the chorus where he can do minimal damage, he will be handed the role of Reb Nachum the beggar and allowed to zombie his way through three lines.
- Motel will be played by the gayest man in a tri-county radius.
- Due to a lack of men, women will be forced into fake beards and moustaches, doubling as daughters, Russian ruffians, and priests.
- Shortly before opening, Mendel, the rabbi’s son, will realize how few lines he actually has and will overact the hell out of each of them in order to make a more memorable impact with what little stage time he’s given.
- The Fiddler will pretend to play the fiddle. Very. Badly.
- No two people will pronounce “Tzeitel” the same way. There is no guarantee that one of the many pronunciations will be correct.
Filed under: Writing
Would you believe I’ve never seen a production of Fiddler on the Roof? I think you should bring me to the next one you attend.
I was cast in the show in high school. I still remember all my lines. Okay, line: “Yes it could.”
Yes, I was in the chorus. At least I wasn’t the beggar, right?
I came down with strep throat opening night and had to miss all three performances. Somehow the show went on without me.