Arsenic & Old lAce - Center Stage

More documents

Recommendations

Info

$ne\TsTage - Center Stage$

The Cast (in order of appearance) John Ahlin* Teddy Brewster Pamela Payton-Wright* Abby Brewster Stephen F. Schmidt* Reverend Harper William Zielinski* Officer Klein Tana Hicken* Martha Brewster Brynn O’Malley* Elaine Harper Ian Kahn* Mortimer Brewster Ralph Cosham* Mr. Gibbs/Mr. Witherspoon John Campion* Jonathan Brewster Carson Elrod* Dr. Einstein Lou Liberatore* Officer O’Hara Craig Bockhorn* Lt. Rooney Mike Schleifer* Stage Manager Caitlin McAndrews* Assistant Stage Manager Setting The living room of the Brewster home in Brooklyn. September, 1941. There will be one 15-minute intermission. Joseph Otto Kesselring (1902–1967) by Gavin Witt, Production Dramaturg Little in the life of Joseph Otto Kesselring gave any indication that his would be one of the lasting names in American drama. In fact, to this day, little more than his name endures, honored in an annual prize for playwrights. That, and his (ironically) immortal comedy, Arsenic and Old Lace. Even the ultimate success of this now-established play was among the unlikeliest of eventualities, but for a few fortunate twists and some great timing. Kesselring was born in 1902, in the relative anonymity of New York City. At 20, the young city slicker went to the small Mennonite community of Newton, Kansas, to join the faculty at Bethel College. A one-time boy soprano, he taught music and directed student productions—and lived in a sprawling Victorian rooming house that would loom large in his later career. After only a few years at Bethel, Kesselring left the safety of academia to strike out on his own in theater. After trying his hand as a writer and actor, he also spent time producing vaudeville. Mild, Republican, Episcopalian Kesselring was about the least likely vaudevillian imaginable. Yet he did manage to get some of his own work produced, first in 1933 and again in 1935, with two light romantic comedies. Response, though, was tepid and the pieces were quickly forgotten. Kesselring seemed headed for certain obscurity when he sent another offering to the actor, director, and producer Howard Lindsay, fresh from his epochal success in Life With Father. The new play, a thriller-melodrama titled Bodies in Our Cellar, became Arsenic and Old Lace—with more than a little help from some seasoned Broadway vets (see “The Beamish Ones Meet the Monster”). Kesselring became the toast of Broadway and a theatrical milestone. Or his play did, at any rate; even at the height of his success, Kesselring himself seems to have remained a complete cipher. For the setting of his signature work, Kesselring drew on the interior of his old Bethel College quarters, Goerz House—particularly its distinctive window seat. Mortimer’s aunts, the Brewster sisters, he apparently based on his own relations; for their antics, he said that he simply “imagined the most fantastically impossible thing[s] his dear old grandmother could do,” then wrote those down. Whatever else he may have lacked as a writer, imagination he had. Kesselring continued writing until 1963, but nothing managed to win the plaudits he achieved with Arsenic and Old Lace. In lieu of an autobiography, he published a collection of his poetry, mostly light verse, that he called My Life, Love, and Limericks. He died in 1967; his widow, Charlotte—whom he had married in 1931—eventually endowed a playwriting prize in his name and honor: the Kesselring Prize. X Next Stage: Arsenic & Old Lace |
the Beamish Ones meet the by Kathryn Van Winkle, The Mike & Beth Falcone Dramaturgy Fellow Joseph Kesselring’s success rests on one fateful trip to the post office. The aspiring playwright mailed a copy of his newest play to Howard Lindsay, one half of the madcap writing and producing duo Lindsay and Crouse. Known as “The Beamish Ones,” they’re credited with the books for Anything Goes and The Sound of Music, as well as the plays Life With Father, Life With Mother, and the Pulitzer-winning State of the Union. Lindsay saw the possibilities inherent in this insanely macabre farce and wired [Crouse]. The wire read: “Shake your head, take a cup of coffee and read further. Have just read a play about two charming old ladies who go around murdering old men. Very funny. How would you like to be a producer?” [Crouse] wired back, “Buy it.” The two…all but rewrote everything, [b]ut they were careful to give full credit at all times to Kesselring. —from Life With Lindsay & Crouse, by Cornelia Otis Skinner For “the dangerously insane brother with a record of homicides who has had his face lifted to resemble Boris Karloff,” the duo had the inspired idea to ask none other than Karloff himself. A veteran of countless horror flicks, Karloff was a walking legend for his iconic performance as the Monster in the 1931 Frankenstein. He was also painfully shy. Crouse called [Karloff and] said, “Boris, there’s a play Howard and I want you to do in New York.” Boris replied that he was flattered, but wouldn’t consider it for a moment. “I am a provincial actor,” he said…, “and provincial actors no more than film actors belong on Broadway.” “But this is a very special kind of play,” Crouse said. “I don’t care how special it is,” Boris replied. “And being yours, I’m sure it is special—I just wouldn’t consider doing a play unless there were at least three parts more important than mine. The responsibility…is too much for me.” “You’re on,” said Crouse. “There are exactly three parts more important than yours.” “Now, you interest me—tell me about the part.” [When they did,] Boris guffawed, and was so enchanted by the idea of making fun of himself that he agreed to do the play. The rest, as they say, is theater history. —from Dear Boris: The Life of William Henry Pratt a.k.a. Boris Karloff, by Cynthia Lindsay After successfully trying out in Baltimore, Arsenic and Old Lace opened in New York on January 10, 1941 and was an overnight smash. The play ran in New York for 1,444 performances and in London for 1,337. Touring companies followed, and in 1944 the Frank Capra film. The original investors made a bundle. Within eleven days [of opening] the first check went out to the backers…. Further letters came each month, opening with “Dear Little Cherub” or “You Lucky Stiff” or “You Money- Mad People.” Lindsay also enclosed a news bulletin: All right, if you want news I can give it to you. We have a Chicago company in rehearsal with Erich Von Stroheim in the lead. We wanted Al Capone, but couldn’t afford to pay his back taxes. [I]f it comes to our ears that you have any objections to the way this office is being operated, we will be glad to send you, free of charge, one bottle of Aunt Martha’s elderberry wine. [Lindsay and Crouse] loved Karloff, but were constantly amused by his parsimony, and delighted in teasing him about it. Karloff’s weekly salary was over $2,000. One time the “Beamish Ones” arranged to have this sum delivered to him entirely in nickels. Karloff took it all in good humor, and playing along with them he suddenly threatened to resign from the show, declaring it an outrage that he was forced to pay for his own make-up and forthwith demanding an immediate allowance for powder. A few nights later the management came into his dressing room bearing a large box done up like a Christmas present from Bergdorf Goodman. Karloff untied the ribbons, opened the box with justified caution and found that the contents consisted of tooth powder, foot powder, baking powder, roach powder, gun powder, …and powdered eggs. —from Life With Lindsay & Crouse, by Cornelia Otis Skinner X Next Stage: Arsenic & Old Lace |
Page 1 and 2: Next Stage Resource Guide Arsenic &
Page 3: Set ting the STage Arsenic & Old La
Page 7 and 8: In the weeks following the 1941 New
Page 9 and 10: “One of the longest journeys in t
Page 11 and 12: Arsenic and Old Lace: A (Partial) G
Page 13 and 14: miles long and links Lake Gatun (an
Page 15 and 16: Glossary Continued of the ammonia i

Arsenic & Old lAce - Center Stage

You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

Delete template?

Save as template?