The Merchant of Venice came next and I was given the joy of playing Portia. Portia is a lot like Beatrice, although when she speaks her mind it is generally just among friends. But it's the only case in Shakespeare where a woman saves the day. Zwick said it was the perfect role for me to rediscover my fan base. I wasn’t aware that I'd lost it.
What was especially great about the production was that Celeste was cast as Narissa. We’d been in productions before but never acting off of one another.
“You know that I’m going to steal every one of your scenes,” she told me in mock confidence.
“And how is that?” I asked.
“Pick a scene.”
“The Prince of Morocco scene.”
“I’ll slip
“The court scene at the end.”
“Well, we’re supposed to be disguised as men. I’ll just have a better disguise.”
“Like what?”
“Like a t-shirt that says ‘No Fat Chicks.”
One night, during after-rehearsal drinks, Celeste asked me if I would ever do film.
“Probably,” I told her. “The opportunity hasn’t surfaced yet so I can’t say I’ve given it much thought.”
“I think you will, Katherine. I just can’t see you around here too much longer.”
“How about you?” I asked her. “Would you do film?”
“Been there, done that, don’t care to do it again.”
“We’ve never talked about this. How long were you in the movies for?”
“I was a nightclub singer in a low budget movie called ‘Tightrope.’ You haven’t seen it and I don’t suggest that you ever do. I was only on the set for five days, and then later on to redub some of the sound. Then I came running back to the stage.”
“You hated it?”
“It’s everything you’ve ever hated about stage—times a thousand.”
“Are you saying don’t go?”
“Oh, I already know that you’ll go.”
In the weeks leading up to the opening of Merchant of Venice, I went on a small publicity tour. Though I had some renown with the theatre society, I wasn’t exactly a celebrity. I did radio spots and two or three TV interviews. The last of the interviews was for a local TV station morning show.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our first guest today is the new acting sensation for the World’s Stage Player. She is currently preparing for her role in the Merchant of Venice, lets have a big hand for Katherine Wells”
The audience applauded as they were prompted to and I took a seat next to the host.
“Now, Katherine. I understand that your only twenty years old.” The host seemed like he was an even fifty.
“That’s right.”
“The audiences certainly responded to you. How has the rest of the cast felt about having such a young star?”
“WSP have been wonderful to me. I’ve had nothing but support since my very first show.”
“Which was last year’s Much Ado About Nothing?” the host said, looking informed and smug.
“Actually, my first show was Romeo and Juliet.”
“Really? What did you play?”
“I was musician number two,” I said with a smirk.
Some of the audience laughed without being prompted. Others looked as if they wished to be somewhere else.
“I see,” the host smiled. “Quite the star turn. But to get back to WSP for a moment, a group as old and revered as them must be incredibly set in their ways. Did you find that some of the older members were uncomfortable with having a gay lead in their play?”
Seconds of silence passed where I tried to decide if I’d heard him correctly. “I’m not gay,” I finally said and hated myself for sounding so defensive about it..
“Oh, I’m very sorry. I must have been given incorrect information.”
“That’s clearly the case.” I couldn’t believe the tone of my voice, so disgusted. I tried to cover, “Not that it would matter if I was , I don’t think my sexuality has any baring on my performance as an actress.”
“Quite true, quite true,” the host bobbed his head up and down. Beside one of the cameras, a producer was drawing her finger across her throat violently. “We’re going to take a quick break, but we’ll be back shortly.”
It wasn’t an especially popular talk-show, and it wasn’t something I should have worried about. But I hated knowing that I’d appeared on TV as the anti-gay campaigner of the theatre world. It just seemed like the more I tried to fix it, the worse everything ended up. And where had they gotten that information from anyhow? Was Henry Vaughn still so bitter?
I wanted to do something, to make amends for what an idiot I’d shown up as. And it was during another late night conversation with Celeste that we came up with a plan.
Comments
Almost...
I can't wait for the twist in the ending where Gandalf is killed by the evel Sno-Elf Giant Spider-Faces.
"I can't wait for the knuckle, underwear, snausage, booby booby booby!"
I actually was about to start typing stuff from Harry Potter, but I didn't want JK Rowling to sue me for spoiling the chance for her to add $25 to her already large pile of $999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
I am a banana?