Truth and Honesty in the Theatre

This essay first appeared on the Feb. 8 episode of Stageworthy.

We have an honesty problem in theatre, and I’m not talking about on stage, we talk a lot about truth on the stage. We want where we portray to be as truthful as possible. We pursue on the stage for a scene a moment to be as honest and truthful as possible. offstage, there may be many times when we feel like we can’t be truthful and honest. Think about a time when you were unhappy with the way that the audiences were reacting to a show or even you were unhappy with the turnout of audiences to the show, you felt like the show could have been getting more audiences but wasn’t getting the audience’s it deserved.

But could you say that? Could you post on social media about how disappointed you are? It’s pretty much understood that you don’t, at least not in a place where anyone but your closest friends might see it. You have to publicly remain positive. And if you’re frustrated about things happening behind the scenes, or if there’s something toxic happening in the rehearsal hall, whether it’s from the director or producer, or even another actor, can we call it out? Do we call it out? Do we talk about it, regardless of whether or not we should we often don’t.

We don’t talk about these things. And often, it was our theatre school experience that laid the groundwork for that silence. When I was in theatre school, I did not have a great experience. I wouldn’t say that my experience was toxic. I just wasn’t very happy. And part of the problem was that to be completely honest, I was one of those students that rode the edge of being cut from the programme. Back when that was a regular occurrence. I’m told we don’t cut people from programmes anymore, which is good. But it was something that hung over my head for the entirety of the three years I was at school. And I wasn’t the only one. All of us knew that we could be cut from the programme and that they wouldn’t have to give any reason. And their reasoning if they gave one wouldn’t be questioned. We went through our days in fear. And so if we saw problematic or toxic behaviour, we didn’t say anything. We learned not to rock the boat.

I’ve been doing this podcast for about six years now. But occasionally I’ll find out that somebody I’m interviewing went to the same theatre school that I did. And I would ask them as somebody who went to that school and really curious, I’d ask how their experience was, and they would get this frozen smile on their face. And they would say, Oh, it was great. But I could tell there was something not quite right there. And so we just gloss over it and move on.

And then afterwards, when the recording was over, I’d asked them again, about their experience. And I would hear stories about how their experience was toxic, but they didn’t feel like they could say that out loud, that they couldn’t call it out.

And so they just didn’t. And they tried to put their theatre school experiences behind them all while it taught them that the most important thing for them to do was keep their mouths shut.

How are we supposed to change things when we can’t talk about them?

It’s hard enough to be an artist without having to bottle up the truth without having to bottle up what you’re feeling like things are not going your way or when you’re being treated unfairly or where you just want to be able to admit that you’re disappointed in something like the turnout for a show, as I mentioned before, or a bad review. It’s hard enough to get a bad review for a show. And again, we don’t complain about that we take our lumps and we try to let it slide. Even though we want to respond. We don’t because that’s not how it’s done. That’s not professional. And so we shrug and pretend that it doesn’t bother us. But of course it does. But we can’t see that it does we have to remain positive.

And I wonder sometimes if the public, the people who aren’t artists see this and wonder if we’re being disingenuous. Do we seem artificial to them? Because we put on that brave positive face all the time? Does it make it difficult for the non artists to relate to us? Is that why muggles have this idea that so often portrayed in the media that we’re really fake people? I believe that people can sense when we’re not being honest. And when there’s something we’re not saying. And we know it too. It eats at us. I know what eats me when I do it. And I wish I could just say what I’m thinking. But I don’t because that’s just not what we do. And why isn’t it something we do? Why is that kind of honesty frowned on.

Why is it that if I get an unfair review, I can’t say anything? Why is it if if I had a bad experience in the rehearsal hall, I can’t say anything?

I wish I had an answer to the whole thing. I wish I knew how to fix it. But maybe if we talk about it, we can take a few steps towards fixing the toxic aspects of the industry, and also be a little bit better to ourselves. 

Confessions of a terrible Halo player

I love playing Halo. I have played Halo on and off with each iteration since Halo 4. The single player games are good, but the issue comes down to the multiplayer games, which is what Halo has survived on for ages. And I enjoy playing it (for the most part). The problem is, that I’m not very good. I’ve never been very good at it. Whenever I play it (or any multiplayer first person shooter), I die a lot. Like a lot. Because I’m not very good. And in the past, I have eventually abandoned the game because it’s hard to enjoy a game where you just die over and over.

The latest version, Halo Infinite seems to do a better job of matchmaking than previous versions have. I have a better chance to find myself playing with people who are closer to my level of terribleness than I used to, so its only slightly less frustrating. For me that is. Its probably just as frustrating for the people I end up playing with.

Because I’m not very good.

It Sees You When You’re Sleeping is Almost Here

In just a few days, my holiday horror audio drama, It Sees You When You’re Sleeping launches, and I am super excited for you to hear it!

It Sees You When You’re Sleeping follows a Christmas-loving single dad who gives in to his daughter’s request for a certain elf toy and finds himself face to face with an evil he could never have imagined.

Inspired by the idea of the Elf on the Shelf doll and its accompanying traditions, this audio drama imagines what might happen if there was more to the toy than felt and plastic. Something more…sinister.

It Sees You When You’re Sleeping is the second part of a trilogy of audio dramas for the holidays that started with last year’s “Saint” Nick and the Big F*ck Up, and will conclude next year. The first episode arrives on November 17, and each of the six remaining 10-15 minute episodes will weekly until the final episode on December 22.

Elves are in the zeitgeist.

Myths and legends about elves were part of the inspiration for It Sees You When You’re Sleeping, and play into the story as it unfolds. But apparently, I am not the only one who has been thinking about elves, as just this week, I saw a trailer for a Danish film called Elves on Netflix. The trailer is just…amazing. Give it a watch.

It reminds me a little of the film Rare Exports, which offers an alternative Santa Claus. Have you seen it?

Don’t Forget to Subscribe!

Make sure you are subscribed to It Sees You When You’re Sleeping on your favourite podcast platform so that you don’t miss any of the episodes. You can find on Apple PodcastsSpotifyGoogle Podcasts, and all the usual podcast services. 

Digital Theatre in the Physical Theatre

I’ve been thinking for a bit about digital theatre, and how for the last two years the productions that theatre creators have been producing have been the most accessible they have ever been. Since the pandemic started and theatre moved online, plays have been available to people who normally couldn’t access them, either because of physical barriers, or even financial ones. They have allowed people who might not go to the theatre because getting there is too much trouble, or because the venue isn’t accessible. Or it has allowed people for whom the cost of a ticket has been prohibitive to be able to see theatre, possibly for the first time.

We’ve been able to enjoy productions from all over Canada and the world, which is something that we’ve never been able to do before, without travelling to attend in person, which is great! For most of our theatrical history, the Toronto theatre scene has been separated from the Edmonton scene, which is separated from the Saint John theatre scene, and so on. We haven’t been able to experience the amazing theatre taking place around the country, let alone the world. So digital productions have been a wonderful addition to our theatrical experiences, expanding our theatrical horizons.

As we move back into in-person theatre, I worry that we will lose this. I know that there are issues where Equity and ACTRA are concerned, and that’s something for them to work out, but in the indie world, it’s something that can be done, and I would argue should be done.

That means asking venues if they have a high-speed, dedicated internet connection that can be used to live stream. It means asking if they have a single-camera setup, or do they have a multi-camera option, and if they do, is there a live switcher and do they provide an operator? And it’s possible that the theatre you are looking at doesn’t have any of this, or maybe they don’t even know what you’re talking about! But these are important questions to be asking. If enough people ask about it, the venues will have to provide it.

If live-streaming isn’t an option, there’s still a way to broadcast your show using a simulated live option, where you record a performance, and then provide that recording as a scheduled live stream. Let’s say for example that you recorded your opening night performance. You could then use a service like Onstream.live or Streamyard, upload your video and schedule it to broadcast to youtube (for example). In this way, you could have a live re-broadcast of your selected performance streamed one or more times for an audience that can’t make to the venue. And using this method means that you can also have closed captioning available as well!

We have gained so much from sharing our productions, that it would be a shame to lose this connection and this newfound accessibility.’

I’d love to hear about your experiences with digital theatre, and what you think of the possibility of keeping this going as we return to in-person theatre. Tell me all about it in the comments.

Waiting For The Return

I have been thinking a lot lately about theatre. About being in an audience in a theatre, about performing in front of an audience. And I miss it. All of it. 

But as much as I miss it, I don’t want to rush back. We must make sure that re-opening is organized, and that audiences feel safe. And that’s the challenge. Because audiences are often crammed together, and it would not take much to make that audience uncomfortable. We haven’t been sitting in rooms close together for over a year, and so that’s something that we need to relearn. I imagine an audience packed into the theatre for the first time in almost 2 years, and as the lights begin to dim…someone begins to cough.

That used to be nothing to us. A smattering of coughs as the lights dim was just part of a night at the theatre. But now? I think it will be a while before our audiences are so nonchalant about a cough. 

So what does a full return to the theatre look like? Can we just throw open the doors and hope for the best? That’s probably not a great idea. Because we’ve been distancing for over a year, our audiences likely won’t be ready to sit shoulder to shoulder, for our audience’s comfort, we’ll probably have to ease them back into the theatre.

So how can theatres, operating at a reduced capacity, possibly thrive? Is theatre operated in this way a money-losing venture? Unless we embrace some of the technologies we’ve utilized during the pandemic, then yes.

A wise option for theatres would be installing cameras, investing in good internet, live stream performances, and offering a digital ticket. And we should continue to do this, even after theatres open to full capacity. There are lots of great reasons to offer digital tickets, such as being able to share our amazing theatre with the rest of the world (and with the rest of the country), as well as reducing the ableism inherent in requiring people to come to the theatre (many of which are not accessible spaces). 

There will be plenty of well-intentioned people who will declare that live-streamed theatre will be the death of theatre. But I don’t believe they are correct. We are drawn to gather together to be entertained. Radio, television, home video, and even streaming platforms did not kill the movies.  We are still drawn to go to the movies when we could wait to see it on video or streaming. But some films just have to be seen in the theatre, with other people to really experience.

Others will say that having watched a play in a live stream, no one will want to see it in person. And I am certain that’s not true. After all, we watch movies we love over and over. Not only do we listen to our favourite musicians over and over, but we will pay to see them perform live. To sing the very songs we listen to over and over. That’s why a digital ticket isn’t the death of theatre. Because many of the digital audience will see the show and then want to experience it in person. I saw Hamilton on Disney+, but I would choose to see it in person in a heartbeat. I watched The Grinning Man on Youtube, but I would absolutely see it again in person given the chance.

We have a road ahead of us for re-opening our theatres, and it may be a long one. But we have an opportunity to remake our theatres and our theatre experiences, to grow our potential audiences, and to remove barriers.

So much possibility.