A couple days ago at rehearsal, something amazing happened. We were rehearsing the final scene of “Stage Lights,” in which the Tramp says his goodbyes to his two new friends – Max the strong man and the Gamine, the woman who stole and broke his heart. Max and the Gamine are married now, something that tortures the Tramp for much of the story, but he has seen how true their love is and how much they must be together. The Gamine says goodbye but can’t contain her emotions. She starts to cry. The Tramp leans toward her, lifts her dampened cheek and gestures, simply: “smile.” She does. They newlyweds exit, and the Tramp walks off into the sunset. End play.
It’s a moment that draws significantly from the endings of three of Charlie Chaplin’s greatest films – City Lights, Modern Times and The Circus. It’s a moment that means more to me as a Chaplin fan, a writer and a perfomer than any other moment in the show. Still, I was ready for it, and I looked forward to playing it with gusto that day.
We rehearsed it once, and it was fine. I felt confident, Alexis was great, job well done all around. Jessie, our director, agreed. Then she turned back to Scott Borchert, our musical director who will provide live music to accompany the entire show. She gave him some direction and told us to run the scene again, this time with music.
When we did, the scene completely changed. Scott’s “love theme” trickled softly through the rehearsal room and melted away everything we did during the previous go-around. There was a new stillness and poignancy to the scene that genuinely startled me. And when it came time to gesture “smile” to Alexis, I felt like a little kid again. I gestured “smile,” and tears welled up in my eyes. Scott had shifted seamlessly from his own music into the classic love theme from Modern Times, the song “Smile.” I have heard that song a million times, but never like the way Scott played it that night. For a second, it took me to a beautiful place, a comfortable place, a place I knew. I finished the scene, full of warmth and light.
Scott is a wonderful man. He’s an accomplished musician, talented, funny, charming and passionate about classic film. And he knows his way around a good bottle of whiskey. My kind of people.
And to this lovely man we have given the hardest job in this production – to write and perform over an hour’s worth of music that is melodic, true to the period and yet timeless. It must comment on shifts in the action, sometimes alarmingly swift shifts. To top it off, he has to work with a director and a writer who don’t speak the language of music all that well. Typical direction from Jessie: “Play the Tramp’s theme with a hint of joy, mix in the Gamine’s love theme and make it sort of melancholy.” I would expect any self-respecting pianist to throw his sheet music in the air and storm out in frustration. But Scott just nods, smiles, and plays exactly that.
Everyone involved with “Stage Lights” is trying to find clarity in similarly complex ideas. Silent theater is not easy, and this show requires us to juggle comedy, emotions (and even a few literal juggling pins) concisely, effortlessly and with truth. All in silence.
We have one more week to find the right notes to play. This ensemble is just a hair away from making this show a sight to see. And I mean a sight to see.
- Jack
