We’ve been working for 2 weeks now. Jumping into the language and the world of Michel Marc Bouchard’s rural Quebec of 1918.
The actors are discovering that each of their characters has an overwhelming desire that propels them forward. Both individually and collectively, the desires turn out to be the instrument of their demise. Interestingly enough, as the characters become more real, the story becomes more surreal.
Coughing rattles throughout the rehearsal hall.
Either our actors are overly ‘method’ or we’ve encountered a very strange coincidence. In a play filled with the ominous threat of the Spanish flu our cast has fallen sick. Stay home? Or come to rehearsal? Ginseng. Hand sanitizer. Cold formula tea. To get the flu shot or not to get the flu shot. That is the question.
Marc Bendavid who plays the Young Priest in the play has a passage that echoes in the air.
They didn’t come. Hardly a soul came to see us set God’s house afloat. It’s because of the flu… People are afraid of gatherings.
Fear is powerful.
I should do some research.
It seems for the actors their research is all around
Fear is indeed powerful.
CO
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