Jumping into Chocolate (Or, How I Became Off-B'way's Roger Bart)

About the author:
Julie Halston resume boasts four hit Broadway shows and a host of off-Broadway credits. She is quickly gaining a wide reputation for her scene-stealing comedic skills. On Broadway, she was most recently seen as Ida Webb in the revival of Twentieth Century. Her other Broadway credits include Electra in the "Gimmick" trio amongst other roles in Gypsy, The Women and The Man Who Came to Dinner. Most recently, Halston was brought in to replace Nora Dunn in a leading role for the off-Broadway production of White Chocolate by William Hamilton. She is playing Vivian Beale Somerset, which she learned in about five days. Keepingup with her frantic pace, the actress is set to join the cast of Broadway's Hairspray on November 5. Here, the actress writes about jumping into a show that's already out of the gate.

___________________________________________________

Yikes! Could I jump into a show that was already deep into rehearsal? Sure, Roger Bart had done that taking over the role of Xanthias in The Frogs. We all marveled at his performance!

How he learn everything so quickly? I was about to find out. I got the call to replace a leading actress in White Chocolate, the off-Broadway comedy by William Hamilton. I had already read the play and loved the character of Vivian Beale Somerset. I did the audition and really felt I might be cast. But I was disappointed to learn the role had gone to someone else.

As they say: be careful what you wish for. I was now meeting the cast, getting measured for costumes and wondering how I got into this. They were in Paris; I was still at the gate at JFK.

How do actors jump onto a moving train? Well, talent darling, is the glib answer.

But that's not the whole story. After the initial rush of excitement of getting back on the boards, there's a lot to be done, in a very short time.

Focus is key.

First, you clear out all obligations other than your own funeral. Bye-bye to doctor appointments that are not life saving, any dinners with friends and any professional engagement unless they pay large sums of money. Domestic arrangements are reshuffled: no playing with the cats, no leisurely talks and certainly no sex!

It's up four nights in a row learning lines, and I mean 2am! I did it section by section, repeating the lines out loud, over and over. Then adding the voice and simple gestures. There was no time to ponder and ruminate about my character. And given that this is a fast-paced comedy, that's a good thing. I lived on coffee, water and Alleve. I may have been a wreck, but on the up side, I was sure to drop a few pounds.

It would be a great episode on reality TV. Can she do it? Will she crack? Can she learn the monologues? The blocking? What will the cast think? Will they vote me off the stage?

And although I didn't have a song, I had some pretty high-flyin' arias. There's no dancing, but there are cocktails to make and furniture to avoid.

The cast and crew could not have been more welcoming, led by the brilliant Reg E. Cathay. Actors bond rather quickly over the normal course of rehearsal but when you are on a speeding train, it's bond or DIE!

After five days, I was pretty much off-book as long as I could stand still in one spot, but we had a dress rehearsal to deal with in the next day or two--that means, of course, blocking, make-up, costume changes and props. Well-ll-ll, I had a bit of a meltdown. I had to start one monologue three different times. I was having a Postcards from the Edge experience without the drugs!

Our director David Schweizer and our stage manager Scott Pegg were very patient and supportive, even though I felt the need to be wrapped in a very tight white coat.

Ah, but what a difference an audience makes. Heaven and earth can be moved when it matters. All technical snafus were solved, lines were learned, props handled and costumes were changed.

A boulevard farce about race relations is not your usual theater fare, and we had no idea how the piece would play out. All groups get skewered in William Hamilton's piece, but would some groups find it funny while others find it offensive? Would everyone find it offensive? Of course, the most offensive thing if it were boring.

What we have found is that audiences are having a blast. How thrilling it is to look out and see all ages, all races and all persuasions keeling over with laughter.

Now that we are running, I can look back and laugh over the "summer stock from hell" feeling and enjoy the ride that is White Chocolate--a confection with spice!