V.
The company followed Romeo and Juliet with a production of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Zwick cast me as Honey, the meek wife made very embarrassing by drink. It wasn’t a glamorous role, or tremendously satisfying, but it was far better than the chorus role from the last play.
When Zwick told me about his casting decision, he said, “I know that you couldn’t have been too pleased in out last production, but I had to see how you’d fit in with the rest of the company.”
“It was a very fair decision,” I said.
“Honey is a little different than anyone you’ve come across in Shakespeare. A lot of people are interested to see how you’ll do with this one.”
I was daunted at first. Honey is an annoyance throughout most of the play. She and her husband Nick are used as pawns in another couple’s sadistic games. I think I was successful in the role because I could play a very good drunk. Alistair, in his lectures about Falstaff and other comedians, taught me several secrets about portraying a drunk. The first is to imagine yourself with a wandering centre of gravity. A drunk’s centre of gravity might begin in their chest, but it could wander to their hip, to a foot, to the tip of the nose, or to the point of a finger. The second tip he offered was for the character to constantly think ‘I’m not drunk. I’m still okay. I’m still not drunk.’
There wasn’t much depth to Honey, and the only direction in which an actress could shine in that role was to portray drunk convincingly.
I was a success.
This gave Zwick the confidence to give me a more challenging role. Next, I was to play Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing. It was my favourite of the comedies and I couldn’t have been happier . . . until I found out who was cast as Benedick.
Henry Vaughn.
Henry Vaughn had played Benvolio in Romeo and Juliet. He was the one who ‘didn’t care how many times I spread my legs for
Zwick probably knew this. The relationship between Beatrice and Benedick was rooted in animosity, so it was smart casting. The problem was, while I knew that I could very accurately portray a hatred for Vaughn, I couldn’t imagine myself accurately showing love.
While the company never tested me or made me audition, I do think that Zwick purposely challenged me to see how I’d react. He knew I was a starry-eyed little girl when I began, so he gave me the lowest profile role imaginable. He knew I dreamt of the plump female roles, so he gave me Honey. And he knew I hated Vaughn, so he made us lovers.
On the first day of rehearsal, I found a very different side of Henry Vaughn. I’d assumed that we had a mutual hatred of each other, but he was very pleasant. When our characters meet for the first time, I gave my line, “I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick, nobody marks you,” with absolute venom in my voice.
Vaughn returned with a playful, “What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you still living?”
To which I practically spat, “Is it possible disdain should die while she has such meet food to feed it as Signor Benedick?”
“Patrick,” Vaughn called to the director. “Can you turn her down a notch?”
The director conceded, “You have the whole play to be mean, Katherine. Don’t spend it all at once.”
“Yes, Kate,” Vaughn said, “Taming of the Shrew is next season, though, and I’m sure you’ll be a smash.”
I kept what dignity I could as everyone in the cast laughed. I knew then—and I was right—that I would inevitably be called The Shrew as long as I stayed with the company.
There was no point in fighting back, with too much of the old boy’s club behind Vaughn. Instead, I imitated a very sincere smile and said, “Point taken. Can we continue, then?”
Like the last time I faced off with Henry Vaughn, I used the same strategy—I was going to be the best Katherine I could. She's a fun character to play, headstrong but playful. She’s a singular character in regards to Shakespeare, she is unafraid to defy tradition. When asked if she’ll ever take a husband, she replies: Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a piece of valiant dust? To make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? She can be played as a man-hater if the actress so chooses, but I chose to show her as precocious, so intelligent that she is easily bored. She creates trouble because it is so much more exciting than being the willingly compliant daughter.
The scenes between Beatrice and Benedick improved immediately. Our timing was perfect, shooting rapid-fire remarks back and forth with just enough ease. We left the question of our true feelings up in the air for the audience. Did we really despise each others, as some of the more jagged barbs would seem to suggest? Or were we masking feelings, pulling pigtails and calling each other names in the way that children show affection. And then when each of us were tricked into thinking that the other was already in love with us, our reactions seemed genuinely tender.
And Vaughn began to warm up to me, too much, as a matter of fact. One evening, after rehearsal, the cast went out for drinks. Henry planted himself in the chair beside me and put an arm around me. “Things certainly seem to be shaping up with our little relationship.,” he said.
“A woman can learn to like Benedick, given enough time,” I replied in a friendly-enough manner.
He smiled, “And a man can grow quite fond of Katherine, once he has worn her down a bit.”
“You mean, Beatrice, of course,” I said.
“It becomes hard to tell the difference.”
I knew where he was going and did my best to divert him, “I’ll take that as a compliment, Henry.”
Two hours and many drinks later, the party began to peter out. I’d moved to a different spot earlier on and had been enjoying Celeste’s company, who had not been cast in our show but had been given a part of the Twelfth Night cast. When we said our final goodnights I was followed to the car by Henry.
“Could Signor Benedick get a ride home,” he asked.
I couldn’t refuse. Henry was the type of man who would drive himself home after six or seven scotches. It was a short ride, but I shortened it by driving even faster.
“I was thinking, Katherine, that we haven’t quite perfected our characters’ relationship.”
“I’m happy with it.”
“Well, I do agree that we’ve done a splendid job, but what if we took it a little further?”
I shook my head, “I can’t imagine what you have in mind.”
“We should, just for the sake of more fully realizing our characters, experiment with a relationship of our own.”
“It’s not necessary, Henry.”
“No, hear me out—“
We arrived at his apartment complex. “Henry, I’m not dense. I know exactly what you’re saying, I’ve known since you sat down beside me, and let me make it absolutely clear that I’m not interested.” I reached across him and opened the door. “Thank you, and goodnight.”
Henry sighed, blowing boozy breath in my face. “You’ll change your mind,” he said. The frightening thing was that he really believed I would.
Monday morning's rehearsal went as well as usual. Aside from the odd glance or wink, Henry was well behaved. I figured I could withstand stray passes like that in the interest of the play. If Henry actually imagined that it somehow helped his performance, then so be it. And if he had greater designs, I’d already been quite clear on where I stood.
When we got to the final act, Henry played an especially lively Benedick. He had a ridiculous grin when he uttered, “Come, I will have thee, but by this light I take thee for pity.”
I found his mood infectious and couldn’t help but return his grin as I said, “I would not deny you, but by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption.”
He drew my in close for our kiss, “Peace! I will stop your mouth.”
And he did.
With his tongue.
Henry’s slimy, old tongue crept into my unsuspecting mouth and settled as if it belonged there. There was only one thing I could do in return.
“Fucking hell!” Henry screamed, throwing his hands up to his bloody mouth.
The actor playing Leonato was the first to rush over. “What? What happened?”
“Bitch bit me,” Henry said between his fingers.
Leonato spun on me, “You did what?”
“He put his tongue in my mouth,” I said, vehemently.
“What did she say?” someone yelled backstage.
“He just slipped her the tongue,” someone else answered.
And of course, the laughter followed. As if it had been a sitcom moment. Henry was soaking up some of the blood in a borrowed handkerchief. “Just wait till Zwick hears about this.”
“I’m right here,” Zwick said. He had been seated at the back of the auditorium all along and had rushed forward as soon as the commotion began.
“Mr. Zwick,” Henry began, “I think that you need to put this little girl in her place—“
“Shut up, Henry,” Zwick said, tiredly, “You’ve done just about the most repugnant thing I’ve ever seen one actor do to another. Don’t think that for one second you are irreplaceable. Your stand-in is quite eager to take your place and quite capable of doing it well. Apologize. Now.”
Henry dabbed at his tongue, checked for blood, then looked in the general vicinity of my feet. “I’m sorry, Katherine.”
“Very good,” Zwick said. “Now, if you act in any way that Miss Wells finds inappropriate you will be out of the show. Clear?”
“Yes, Mr. Zwick.”
“Good. Now, let’s carry on.”
The show went tremendously well. Henry Vaughn was on his best behaviour. Occasionally, rehearsing the last scene, I would snap my teeth together several lines before the kiss. Henry would then plant the most gentle of kisses on my lips.
The audiences could not have been any better. They laughed and cooed loudly throughout the show, and we received standing ovations every night. And I realized that I was falling in love with the attention. Nothing I’d ever experienced before even approached the feeling of an audience’s approval. Henry and I were the last two to take our bows, and the applause would swell and rise like a tidal wave when we came out. I realized then that I would do anything to keep that feeling—to keeping being loved.
Comments
But have you considered how well Dave writes from a woman's point of view?
THINK ABOUT IT!
Then I realized that I had missed one while I was away! Yeah, that'll do it.
So now I've read both, I'm caught up and ready for the next one.
Jorge: do you even know what an android is?