Nunsensations

Nunsensations: The Nunsense Vegas Revue by Dan Goggin

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The Nuns are back!!! Performing at the Guymon Community Theatre on March 1st, 2nd, 8th & 9th at 7:30, then Sunday the 3rd & 10th at 2pm. Yes, the little sisters of Hoboken are back, and they’re better than ever too.

When a parishioner volunteers to donate $10,000 to the Mt. Saint Helen’s School if the Nuns will perform in Las Vegas, Mother Superior is hesitant to accept. However, after being convinced by the other sisters that “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” Reverend Mother agrees. What follows is more nonsense, shtick, and feather-boas than any Nunsense show yet! Performing in “The Pump Room” at the Mystique Motor Lodge, the sisters experience “show-biz” like never before. You’ll meet Sin-City Sue, find out who’s Black and White with Her Money on Red, and try to win a new car with the “Holy Rollers” giant Wheel of Fortune. You’re sure to hit a jackpot with these crackpots.

I gave this show 5 Stars because – It Was Amazing! And pretty funny too.

The format of the show is familiar to anyone who has seen one or more of the five Nunsense shows before this one. The gags may be freshly written, but the act itself really hasn’t changed that much over these six shows. As usual, each nun has done an impressive job of portraying her character’s established quirky identity to a tee, and of course the entire cast remains quintessentially nunsense-ical. The jokes are all new, so you’re sure to enjoy the sisters’ antics regardless of the level of fandom you bring to the theater.

There’s no need to go all the way to Vegas to see a good vaudeville show with a little T & A. These little sisters of Hoboken have brought plenty of Talent and Attitude right here to Guymon, USA.

It’s a Wonderful Life

This weekend the Guymon Community Theatre is putting on the stage version of It’s a Wonderful Life by James Rodgers from the film by Frank Capra and story by Philip Van Doren Stern. I have always loved watching the movie version, and I watch it every year during the holidays. In fact, while the bell tolls during the intro to the movie I always begin to cry. That’s right. During the intro, even before the movie actually starts, I start to cry. I cannot help myself. There is just something about that movie from start to finish that tugs hard at my heartstrings.

I phoned in my reservations for tonight’s stage performance at Guymon Community Theatre in advance and was glad I had. I was surprised how many cars were in the downtown area, and had to park quite a ways away from the theatre. When we got inside, I could see why, as the show was nearly a sell out.

I first began to cry with George Bailey and Mary Hatch singing “Buffalo Gals” and dancing by the light of the moon. The best part of the show was the portrayal of George Bailey by veteran actor and friend, Tyler Puryear. Tyler brought his character to life in a way rarely accomplished on a live theatre stage. Sure, the show had its share of distractions with the usual array of live theatre gaffs. Like mics not working, phones not ringing on cue and lights going down before a scene is over. But I was still blubbering when I left the theatre two hours later.

Like most folks, I always think of Jimmy Stewart when I think of my favorite holiday story It’s a Wonderful Life, but from now on Tyler Puryear will come to the front of my mind. Tyler undoubtedly carried the day.

There are only two more showings, Saturday night and Sunday matinee. I highly recommend seeing this show.

My Wheelchair

Five years ago, I tried out for the leading man in the musical production of Annie at the Guymon Community Theatre. Had I gotten that role as Daddy Warbucks, I would have shaved my head and become a billionaire. I did not get the part. At first, I was disappointed not to get to be the man who sits atop the Forbes Fictional 15, but the director gave me the choice between taking the part of Bert Healy or the President of the United States. Choosing to be fully dressed, with or without a smile, I quickly settled into the character role of FDR.

The first thing I learned about dear old Franklin Delano Roosevelt is that he married his cousin, Anna Eleanor Roosevelt. So, now I have to pretend to be some guy who married his cousin and later became the President of the United States? I do not remember learning about this in school, but it is nonetheless true. Although, I am still trying to figure out if Eleanor kept her maiden name, took Franklin’s, or both. Take your pick. Either way, this just seems creepy to me.

I also learned that those Pince-nez glasses FDR wore do not stay on your nose when you are sweating under the stage lights. Thankfully, after much experimentation, I figured out that false eyelash glue works perfectly for keeping those Pince-nez spectacles on your face. I even learned something that FDR probably did not know: you cannot buy a tube of false eyelash glue without the false eyelashes, and the clerks at Wally World are not used to seeing guys go through the express lane buying false eyelashes for themselves.

I listened to all the recordings I could find of FDR speeches. I tried to imitate his accent, practiced the cadence of his words. I found one of those old cigarette holders on eBay too. I jutted my jaw forward, and I clinched that cigarette holder in my teeth until my checks ached. I applied his speech pattern to my lines as I rehearsed them. I tried to become FDR.

Although FDR did not want to be seen by the nation in his wheelchair, for this musical production, he needed to be seen in one. Somebody had spotted an antique wheelchair down at Guymon’s year around garage sale, so off I went to the dimly lit ex-VFW building to check it out. I found an antique wheelchair all right, but it was in pretty sorry condition with most of the wicker in need of repair or replacement. Plus, this chair was the super-pooper model, and I did not think that would look quite right in the footlights. I knew this chair would take a lot of work to be ready for the stage, but it was just what the President needed, so I bought it.

I had never done any kind of wicker repair work, so I surfed the Internet, reading tutorials and shopping for supplies, and finally ordering new webbing and spline for the chair. When the materials arrived, I had a problem. I had ordered natural wicker, but it was almost pure white. Turns out that wicker takes years of exposure to sunlight to turn that beautiful golden color. Going back to the Internet, I learned a little shortcut about giving wicker that aged look; when you wet the wicker, soak it in tea instead of water. We were without a bathtub for several days, but the tea bath worked perfectly. Then, after a bit of woodworking, no one would ever want to drop his or her drawers in this chair again. With the super-pooper feature permanently disabled, I sanded, I polished, I used a hair blow dryer to dry and tighten the wicker. Finally, after much work, love and attention, the chair was completed with only a few days to spare before opening night.

Following one of the performances, a frail little lady came up to me after the show to shake my hand and tell me how much she enjoyed my characterization of Roosevelt. “I remember him well, and you sounded just like him too,” she said to me. “You were very good, exactly like him, and I would know. I voted for him.”

“You can’t be old enough to remember Roosevelt,” I quipped as if it were a matter of fact.

Then returning the complement, she leaned in and whispered, “I think you played Roosevelt better than Roosevelt himself.”

What that woman said to me was music to my ears. I had finally done it. All the research, the practicing, the rehearsing, the hard work, it had all paid off. I had become FDR. I had become one with the wheelchair.

A year later, I rolled out onto the stage again as FDR in the sequel, Annie Warbucks. But ever since then, the old wheelchair has just been sitting in my garage. A few weeks ago, I finally came to a place where I decided I was ready to give up that old chair. I had come to terms, and was ready to say my good-byes. I loaded her up in the Suburban for one last trip down to the Guymon Community Theatre, where she will once again roll onto the stage and into the spotlight. Come this December, in the performance of It’s a Wonderful Life she will be seen in the roll [sic] of Henry F. Potter. I will not be on the stage with her, but I will be there in the audience to watch her…

… a chair which will roll in infamy.

Willy Wonka

"Everlasting Gobstoppers"

  

Guymon Oklahoma refers to itself as the cowboy capital of the world, but Guymon also has a nice little community theatre that puts on three or four shows a year. Last evening my wife and I decided to attend the Guymon Community Theatre musical production of Willy Wonka. Right after we sat down I noticed an unusually hyperactive child sitting, standing and jumping all around only a few seats to my left with only empty seats between us. So I’m thinking to myself, “Self, why is it that whenever I come to the theatre the loudest most obnoxious kid in the house sits either right behind me, kicking the back of my seat, or the kid sits in my row right between his oblivious parent and me?” The good news was that there was not a child wearing cowboy boots seated right behind me, nor an adult wearing a ten-gallon cowboy hat seated directly in front of me, and those empty seats to my left could fill in before curtain time.  

As I sat waiting for the show to begin, I thought back on the time a few years ago when I was talking to a business acquaintance about a show I had gone to see at the theatre. He said he did not like going to the theatre himself, and although his wife used to attend, she was never going back to that theatre again. Thinking that perhaps she had grown tired of kids and cowboy hats, I was curious to know why. So I asked. It turns out that some guy in the seat directly in front of her had turned around during the performance and glared at her. This upset her so much that she and her son moved to different seats during intermission, and determined never to set foot in that theatre again. I just had to know more, so I asked him. Had his son been unintentionally kicking the back of this poor man’s chair, slurping air out of the bottom of his empty coke cup with a straw, or something like that which might explain this man’s angry glance. He was confident that his son was too old for behavior like that, so that could not have been the cause; that guy was just being rude. He went on to tell me that after his wife changed seats that the flash photography she was taking turned out much better. Upon learning all of these facts, I agreed with him that his son was far too old not to know how to behave in the theatre during a live performance. Of course, I truly am quite certain that this man’s son was well behaved.  

Then just before curtain time, the empty seats finally filled in with theatregoers setting down between that unattended youngster and me. The assistant director went up onto the stage and announced to everyone to turn off all cell phones, and then he strictly forbid the audience from using any flash photography as doing so might frighten the Oompa-Loompas. I turned off my cell phone and chuckled quietly to myself. The lights went down. My son who was directing the orchestra raised his baton. We sat back and watched, listened and experienced a delicious presentation of a great musical, Willy Wonka. It was a fantastic night-out at the Guymon Community Theatre. We had terrific seats, could see and hear perfectly, and we enjoyed the entire show without distraction, never noticing a single unattended kid, or cowboy hat.  

Yee Haw!