Letting Go

And so, after three rounds of auditions, many production meetings and more pre-production tidbits than you can imagine, “Stage Lights” has a team. We have a set designer, a lighting designer, a stage manager and, most importantly, an ensemble of incredible young performers.

Last night, a few of us went out for drinks to get to know each other before we plunge into the rehearsal process. It was a wonderful time. After discussions of Chaplin, theater, and more than a few astrology books, I felt at ease – these were the quirky, talented, smart people we had been waiting for.

But something hit me last night that I had not anticipated. What was once just a fanboy’s dream, locked inside my imagination, is now a real thing, about to be given life and shape by over a dozen people, many of whom I’ve only just met.

It’s a little scary to have something that means so much to me – a full-scale tribute to my favorite performer, Charlie Chaplin – suddenly leave my hands and be embraced by others. It’s not unlike having your child grow into maturity, leave the nest, and start out on its own. I have dreamed about this project in my head for almost all of my young life. And now, in a sense, I have to let go.

Believe me, I am not worried about how the cast and crew of “Stage Lights” will handle this undertaking. If you pick the right people to help you along a journey, both you and the project will emerge far better and more meaningful than you yourself ever imagined. Last night, I met a team that is just as passionate about this project as I have always been. And for that, I am thankful, excited and, yes, relieved.

I realize now that, so far on this blog I have never mentioned the kind of theater that Jessie (our director) and Alexis (our producer) do. Our company is called the Open Floor, and it is now, as it was in New York where it began, a group dedicated to ensemble theater, a collaborative process that champions a group’s development of a story, rather than the single imagination of one writer or director.

In the past, the Open Floor has adapted fairy tales and myths to tell relevant, modern stories. How those stories come to be full theatrical productions depends entirely on the ensemble cast – we sit in rooms for weeks, talking about the source material, debating its meaning, sharing our unique ideas and feelings. From that open discussion, always, come characters, a story and a vision that no single ensemble member could have created on his or her own. Our own personal stories are celebrated, challenged and shaped by one another, so that they are united into a single vision. Once we coalesce our story, we write it down, rehearse it and perform.

That is the process we will bring to “Stage Lights.” But, of course, this story is a little different, because this time we have a script – my script, which comes from one little boy’s singular passion for Charlie Chaplin. It has three main characters, rather than a starless ensemble of many, and less of the plot is subject to change. And, in some ways, the vision is already set – in the end, this play must be true to Chaplin and his universe – so that the ensemble does not have as much of a say over a few aspects of the story. The Tramp, after all, must be the Tramp.

The “Stage Lights” team knows this, but we still want this to be an ensemble production. We want our company to breathe life into this piece, to shape it according to their ideas and talents. We want this vision to be as much theirs as it is mine. It will be a challenge to strike this balance, between one guy’s vision and the creative energy of a collective, but that is what we have set out to do, because that’s the way we think theater should be done.

A key step toward making “Stage Lights” a true ensemble production is my first step as a writer. I have to let go of my baby. This is something I have to do – and more importantly something that I really want to do – but that doesn’t make the first step any easier. If I’m being honest, there is a part of me that wants to keep this whole project to myself. Chaplin means so much to me that I just want to keep “Stage Lights” locked away as my own little plaything, away from others who might seek to change it. If I keep it to myself, or if I exert absolute creative control, it will stay the way I want, and my dream will become my reality.

But what good would that do? What is a song if its composer forbade it to be sung? And why be afraid of collaboration and change? Why not submit something you love to the loving embrace of wonderful people, whose unbiased eyes can see extraordinary things in it that you cannot see? Why hoard away a passion for something when you can share it with others? Am I suddenly the only one who can translate Chaplin to the stage?

After last night, these questions are now answered. I have taken the first step toward making this dream a reality by realizing this: Charlie Chaplin and his works are not my possessions. His films were not made for me. He is not family, I have no personal relationship with him, and his genius is not mine to protect. Chaplin made his films for everyone, and although his film set was not a democracy, he vulnerably shared himself, his joys, his fears and his sorrows with everyone, regardless of country, color or language. And his legacy was not just built by him, but by the millions of people across the world and the past century who continuously celebrate him. I am not his keeper – I am just another person he inspired.

I want this show to inspire others, too. And I cannot do it alone – no one can. It will take many strong shoulders, stronger than mine, to bear the weight of Chaplin’s genius. The complexity and startling immediacy of his work needs, desperately needs, an egoless ensemble to come alive. This show is like the famous scene from Modern Times, where the Tramp is coiled through the innards of a great machine. As ensemble members, we are the cogs that carry Chaplin through our minds to an audience, each one of us connected to each other, each one of us holding the great man aloft.

And so, I submit my play “Stage Lights” to the unbelievable talents of the Open Floor Theatre Company.  Together, we will make something exciting out of it that none of us can yet see. Without you, this show is nothing more than a little boy staring wide-eyed at a flickering movie screen.

I also submit it to you, potential audience members. Hopefully, you will share this show with us and add your energy to the story.

And as I let go of my possession over “Stage Lights,” I know that I am actually embracing it as I never have before.

So, come on, ya’ll. Let’s have some fun.

- Jack