Joining the Club

Neverwhere has finally closed, and I can say with certainty that it was the premiere highlight of my theatrical career thus far. I was fortunate to be able to work on a fantastic script based on a wonderful story, with an extraordinary group of talented artists. I've never had this much fun on stage before. I got to be scary and funny at the same time. I got to be larger than life. I got to fight with a quarterstaff, and a machete that sparked. I ate a rat. And an ear.

And Neil Gaiman came to see it.

But the show has closed, as they all must do, and it is time for new adventures. I actually have a few projects lined up that should keep me out of trouble until next summer. First up is a role in Louis Slotin Sonata at A Red Orchid Theatre, followed by a fight director gig on Signal Theatre Ensemble's Accidental Death of an Anarchist, and wrapped up next spring with Lifeline Theatre's adapation of Watership Down. That's right: I'm gonna be a bunny. I also have a workshop or two thrown into the mix, just for funzies.

Speaking of Lifeline, however, I do have some particularly exciting news: I have accepted an invitation to become a member of Lifeline Theatre's artistic ensemble. There was a press release and everything. I spent about a week after receiving the invitation just vibrating with excitement. What made it worse was that the company wanted to hold off on the announcement until after Neverwhere closed, so that whole week was spent sitting on a secret. But it's out now, and I am thrilled. I can't wait to get started.

Why I Do Theatre - Reason #342

That chubby guy right in the middle? That's me. The fellow next to me, with the shaggy hair, standing at a jaunty angle? Yeah, that's Neil Gaiman. Oh, and the guy three heads down from me, with the glasses and blue sports coat? Added bonus: Lenny Henry, who co-created the BBC miniseries of Neverwhere with Neil. Also one of the funniest men in England. They came to see our production last Sunday, June 13th, and were just two of the coolest guys you could ever hope to meet.

Lifeline Theatre did a fine job of keeping their visit a secret as long as they could, but they couldn't clamp down on actors running out for a cigarette before the show. Sean Sinitski (Mr. Croup - the fellow looming above and behind Neil in the picture) came up to me backstage about fifteen minutes before the start and just said, "Yes or no?" Yes, I said. "Neil's here." I spent about four seconds wondering if I was going to either barf or crap my pants, but then reigned it in enough to give, I believe, a respectable performance for one of my all-time favorite authors. I'd like to think we are doing justice to the work, while accomplishing something all-together new and exciting.

And I got Neil's autograph. He signed one of Croup & Vandemar's prop business cards. First though, he had to search his many pockets because he knew he had an appropriate "evil pink sharpie." And he did. He signed it, "With extra teeth." I'm gonna have it framed.

Press... and Extension!

NEVERWHERE has come close to selling out ever performance so far. It's going so well that we are extending the run for an entire month. Our new closing date is July 18, 2010. Click here for ticket info.

We've also been getting some great reviews. The folks at Lifeline have collected the best of them here, but I thought I might excerpt a few of my personal favorite quotes:

"Chris Hainsworth and Christopher M. Walsh have the comedy cavern down cold." - Chris Jones, Chicago Tribune

"There is sharp character work by Chris Hainsworth (neatly ambiguous as the Marquis); Sean Sinitski and Christopher M. Walsh (terrific as the sadistic duo); Kyra Morris (as a sleek, unreliable huntress); Patrick Blashill (as the raven stew-eating Old Bailey); and Phil Timberlake (an eerie Angel)." - Hedy Weiss, Chicago Sun-Times

"And the villain brothers, Croup and Vandemar? Terrifically funny. Vile. Wear cravats." - C.S.E. Cooney, Centerstage Chicago

"Sinitski and Walsh are a killer comedy duo." - Katy Walsh, Chicago Now

"Sean Sinitski and Christopher M. Walsh, playing the hilariously sadistic duo Croup and Vandemar, are an absolute delight, their dry banter and garish demeanor heightening a menace that's nothing but playful." - Randall Colburn, Gapers Block

And just for fun:

The Floating Market

A couple of weeks ago I participated in Lifeline Theatre's annual benefit. This year's theme was Neil Gaiman's Floating Market from NEVERWHERE. I wandered the venue and recited stories written by Lifeline ensemble members. Photographer Paul Metreyeon took this photo, which I think is rather awesome (if I do say so myself):

Previews

After many weeks, NEVERWHERE encounters its first audience tonight. This is not opening night; it is the first night of previews.

The preview process is a luxury many (perhaps most) theatre companies in Chicago are unable to afford. At best they will have previews on Thursday and Friday, and then open the show on Saturday. While that does give the show a chance at a little audience feedback, there really is no opportunity to fix anything that just doesn't work.

Lifeline, the company producing NEVERWHERE, owns its own space. As a result, we have the chance to perform an entire weekend of shows, take what we learned from those audiences and continue to work during the next week, then test those changes on a second round of preview audiences the next weekend before we finally open the Monday afterward. The result is that the show we will open on May 10th will be a different beast from the one we'll perform tonight.

In this particular instance the changes probably won't be too dramatic. A shortened line here, a tighter entrance there. That sort of thing. However, I've heard stories of musical productions that added entire songs during the preview process. For an actor these changes can be dizzying, but there is nothing more exhilarating than the moment all the pieces of a show finally fit together.

If you're in the Chicago area and want to help us put the final touches on NEVERWHERE, we'll have preview performances April 30-May 2, and May 7-9. Click here for more information.

Thanksgiving

I hear the phrase "in this economy" three or four times a day. I have friends who have been out of work for over a year. I have friends who have sent resumes to the far ends of the country to find work. I have friends who have sent out over a thousand resumes and have barely scored any interviews. I have friends who have given up their chosen careers to go back to school after being laid off.

Two years ago I was laid off from a job I'd held for seven years. I had spent most of those seven years complaining about the job, but for a couple of weeks after my last day I felt as though I'd been kicked in the stomach. I couldn't get to sleep until three or four in the morning, and I couldn't get out of bed until noon. I got back into temping for a few months, but that world had changed dramatically since the last time I'd gone that route back in 2001. Assignments were fewer and far between, and the work was menial and monotonous.

Then a good friend suggested I come and temp at her office for a few weeks. She suggested I could at least get a higher hourly rate than what the agencies had offered me. Those few weeks turned into a few months, and then a little over a year ago turned into a new full time job.

I am ASTOUNDINGLY lucky. I want the universe to know that I am fully aware of just how lucky I am. I do not have an impressive resume by anyone's standards, haven't even finished college, but I have a job that not only pays fairly well, but that I genuinely enjoy. I have a theatre hobby/career that has never been more fulfilling. I have an extraordinary circle of friends. I have two cats whom I adore. I have a fantastic wife, and soon we might be buying our own home. I really, really, have little about which I can complain. I am grateful for all of the wonderful things that have come my way.

I am getting ready for rehearsal and watching the snow fall out my front window. Gonna be a good day.

Bikram

I tried Bikram yoga for the first time a couple of weeks ago. It's the kind of yoga where they crank the thermostat up to 105 degrees and then you do yoga for an hour and a half while sweating balls. Did I say sweating? The word "sweat" does not really encompass the sprinkler-like way my body's moisture reserves evacuated through every pore. Dripping. Drenched. Soaked. They warned me in advance to bring a big towel. I don't know if one was enough.

When I first walked into the room the temperature was pleasant. It was a like being in a sauna, only not as humid. I wasn't doing anything strenuous yet. Plus, it was freezing outside and the warmth was more than welcome. It doesn't take long, however, before you really start to feel the effects.

I am proud to say that I made it through the full ninety minutes without feeling light-headed or needing to lie down. Several other people in the class lie down on their mats for a few minutes at a time. I'm told it's common, and in fact during the brief orientation the instructor made it clear that it was not only acceptable but encouraged to do so at any point during the class. The only real difficulty I encountered was that some of the poses were just beyond my skill level, and while we were told to only go as far as we comfortably could go, I wasn't always sure what to do when I couldn't do the full-out pose the more advanced students did.

Did I enjoy the class? I would have to say no. At one point the instructor came by and asked if it was more intense than I expected, and I said no. I wasn't trying to be badass. What I meant was, I'd been told ahead of time that this was going to be VERY intense, and the class lived up to its expectations. By the end I felt dazed, and my body felt like it was made out of jelly. The studio is only four blocks from my apartment, but I still waited for the bus because I just wasn't up to the walk. However, for the next couple of days I felt AWESOME. Sore, but awesome.

I thought maybe I should try a less exhausting yoga class, but one of the things I liked about this was the sense of accomplishment when it was over. A few days later I did go back and try a beginners' Vinyasa class, which was informative but didn't have the same "holy crap what have I gotten myself into?" vibe that made the Bikram class so exciting.

Would I go back? If I could afford it, I'd like to think maybe I would. Yoga ain't cheap. I have a couple home yoga tapes, but they really don't do it for me. It helps to have the instructor there. At the same time, not knowing anybody there added to the anxiety level. Also, I'm not a fan of all the talk about "chakras" and "union" and whatnot. It gives me the embarrassment shivers. I'm there to lose weight. I'm not on some kind of spiritual journey.

So, yeah. Bikram yoga. I'll give the whole experience two and a half stars out of four. Two and a half sweaty, sweaty stars.