Building The Musical Bridge

Coral Drouyn explores the sense of family and standard of excellence in one of Melbourne’s “MEGA” community theatre companies. She spent time with PLOS rehearsing for Legally Blonde.

A world without musical theatre doesn’t bear thinking about. But theatre can be anything from kids putting on a show in their garden, to multi-million dollar spectaculars. For most of us it is the small amateur companies in the suburbs, providing entertainment to people who normally would never visit a theatre, or the main stage productions of John Frost and Cameron Mackintosh, which cost millions of dollars and charge around $100 for a ticket. Do we get our money’s worth? Sometimes yes. Sometimes we kick ourselves for wasting big dollars. But we love…no, we LOVE Musical Theatre, so what are we to do?

In this new century, we have a new option. It is the MEGA Community Company. It can’t be called Amateur theatre because the standard is so high. It can’t be called Professional because everyone volunteers their services and have day jobs to support them. It’s still defining itself, but, just as most songs have a “bridge” that links two parts melodically, the same but with different lyrics, so the MEGA company provides a Musical Theatre bridge, with tickets half the price of those in the city.

The production budgets are high ($100,000 +), the costumes and sets are superb, all the band are good musicians (often retired professionals) and the quest for excellence and love of what they do are the driving forces. After all – nobody gets paid, so you have to be driven by passion. The result is something truly special and, apart from the obvious definition of the word, MEGA is my acronym for More Entertainment Guaranteed Annually. Guaranteed because the musicals are already tried first on the Main Stage, the glitches have been ironed out, and the audience has been identified. So the company can do productions of musicals that people (generally) want to see. It’s a win-win situation.

There are only a handful of these companies in Melbourne. PLOS (Peninsula Light Operatic Society) is my local company, and it has as its performing space the impressive Frankston Arts Centre. I love it because the standard is so high and I don’t have to go 45 kms to the city to see a marvellous show.

The first thing you notice is the sense of Family….they belong, they have each others’ backs. They’re excited to be there. This isn’t a job…it’s sheer heaven. The production in rehearsals is Legally Blonde, opening on July 24th, and tonight they are doing a full stagger-through run of Act One.

President Fran, along with all her admin duties, is den mother and also makes cups of tea…  “I should have made scones,” she tells me, “but there are biscuits.” 

PLOS has its own building, known as The Shed - an airplane hangar-like structure where it makes and stores its scenery and costumes and rehearses. It’s unique in that respect. Everything is at hand and props are available as they are made. So are the sets. There’s a green room and a kitchen where everyone gathers before the warm up. Company Secretary/Public Officer and general dogsbody Brett is working on budget reports, checking props, showing me photo proofs and waylaying Tayla, who plays Elle, the lead, to give her a dark and somewhat tatty black wig to wear. 

“It’s to help you get used to the wig,” he says when she grimaces. “Legally Brunette…the Musical,” Tayla quips as she tries it on. “It feels….do I have to say how it feels?” Tayla is young and pretty and lithe (of course) and has been performing since she was in Kindy. 

“As soon as she auditioned we all said ‘That’s our Elle,’ that was back late last year,” choreographer Karen, who also choreographed Cats and Spamalot for the company, says. “But then we discovered she wasn’t a dancer, and we had some really good dancers. Danny (who has directed close to a dozen shows for the company) said to her, ‘How badly do you want this part?’ She wanted it so badly she immediately enrolled in dance classes and look at her now.”

Tayla is perfect casting and there’s no resentment from those who missed out. As she belts out a number perfectly, the other girls watch with interest.

“She’s so good. I don’t think I would’ve been that good.”

“You would so have been good….but….different.”

“Yeah…maybe. Different.”

“I wouldn’t get away with the odd coloured socks though.”

Aidan, who plays two key roles, is worried about his opening night tickets.

“I need five, but I can’t pay for them right now…I promise I’ll pay next week. Please, Please don’t let them go.” Ensemble members chuckle at how earnest he is, but Fran promises him they are reserved for him. Later, with a dance routine going on in front, he lightly duck waddles, with arms flapping like wings, across the back of the floor. Onlookers laugh, but the dancers don’t blink, they’re so focussed. Aidan looks sheepish.

Karen puts the company through a warm up to Whipped Into Shape – a frenetic number with skipping ropes; legs get tangled; someone stumbles. “Get it together guys,” Danny tells them, and they do. There’s another number with acrobatics involving the boys turning the girls over in cartwheels. When a female head gets stuck in a male crotch…there’s much “woot woot” ing from all sides of the room. There’s a sense of fun, of strong camaraderie, but no-one doubts for a moment that they’re here to work. Everything is about the show, but sometimes you have to come up for air and just look around. They’re in their sixth month of rehearsals.

“Can I wear my jacket tonight,” Daragh…fresh out of high school yet already a seasoned performer asks. “I just think it will help me. It’s a corduroy jacket with fake sheepskin lining.” “Oh Daggy!” another cast member says. “Emmett’s a Daggy character,” Daragh responds with a grin. He’s barely 18 yet sings up a storm.

James is having trouble with the engagement ring. He’s playing the cad Warner and no matter which way up he puts the ring box in his pocket, it keeps coming out the wrong way up. “I’ll work on it,” he promises. He’s in the green room and misses a cue by a split second. Moosh… the omnipresent Stage Manager, gives him “The Look”. Fran explains that Moosh never misses a rehearsal and is perhaps the only one on top of EVERYTHING.

Elise, who starred as Nancy in Oliver for the company, strikes a pose as Paulette. She looks curvy and sexy and there are mock wolf-whistles from the ensemble. She puts them back in their box with a teasing look that would turn grown men to stone. “Okay – settle now,” Danny calls good-naturedly. It’s obvious they respect Danny and he’s totally committed. The company is so much family to him that he has even brought his little pumpkin Claire to a rehearsal – where she showed everyone the hole in her tights.

Musical Director Martine is helping the rehearsal pianist, who is having trouble with some very fast arpeggios. She sits down beside him and plays them with ease. Though the vocal harmonies are spot on, and the voices quite marvellous, she’s not happy with the timing on the final line of OMIGOD. “You’re coming in late,” she says as she directs them to do it again. “It’s not a pause…it’s not even a full beat…it’s a Boom…OMIGOD!” The next time is perfect.

It’s after 9pm and the cast is getting tired, but Danny can’t afford to let up.

“Break up that line….it’s too straight line…and where’s the energy? Make a noise, do girly shit, hug each other, look spontaneous. Get excited! I don’t want to see you waiting for cues.” It’s the most he’s said so far in the whole run through.

They run the number again then segue to another scene in which they’re working with the actual bulldog for the first time. When he chases the basketball through Elle’s legs, everyone claps and cheers. It’s hard not to feel upstaged by the adorable dog’s one correct cue.

Brett, always busy, takes me up to the mezzanine floor…where rack after rack of costumes and hundreds of boxes of shoes and accessories live. It’s like going through the archives of the Melbourne Arts Centre, and just as impressive. “We hire out whole productions to high schools and smaller companies,” he tells me.

I ask about the new costumes this time round …. There’s a beautifully tailored bright pink coat for Elle sitting on the tailor’s dummy. “We have some great seamstresses but, again, it’s all volunteer. The good thing is that people WANT to be part of what we do. They may not sing or dance, but they have skills that are just as important. That’s why we always credit every member of a production in the programme. They’re always important. We rely on goodwill, along with sponsorship and ticket sales, and that means acknowledging that even someone supplying an old prop to us is important. When you need to keep $100K always in hand for your next production, we couldn’t exist any other way.”

When the rehearsal finally wraps after three hours, the cast sits cross-legged on the floor while the key creatives give notes. There’s no sign of tiredness, everyone is too pumped, and there’s a real buzz in the rehearsal room. There’s an old Irving Berlin song called “There’s No Business Like Show Business” which says “Everything about it is appealing … Nowhere do you get that happy feeling …” I doubt that anyone in the room knew that song, but every last person knows that feeling.

Thank you, PLOS, for letting me share the Buzz .

Legally Blonde plays at FAC from July 24th, 2015

Images: Above - rehearsals for Legally Blonde and The Shed. Below - The Addams Family. Photographer: Mike Fletcher

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Originally published in the July / August 2015 edition of Stage Whispers - click here to read more.