The Straw Hat Theater Mysteries - Casting Call

Written by William Shepard, Published on 10/12/2009, Re-published on 7/16/2010

“Say what you will about the Straw Hat circuit,” Arthur Glendon observed, “it does get us out of New York for the hot summer.” He waved a hand around, taking in the Straw Hat Theater, with its inviting lodge and Summer Theater, a hillside picture book Vermont setting.

Janice Starling smiled. “Oh, I don’t know, Summer Theater is rather fun, and all that, I’ll agree, but we’re all hoping for something new, something to take us back to Broadway.”

“As if you had ever been there, except for buying a ticket as a member of the audience for one of my plays,” Alice Cartwright said. “But Janice does have a point. New York is where the best opportunities are in the theater. Frankly, when I’m not in the city” - she said the word as though only one city existed in the world - “I just can’t wait to get back. Anyway, Arthur, what play are you casting for? I assume from your message on my cell phone, and the presence of these ladies that you have something specific in mind.”

“No need to get over dramatic, dear,” interjected Sandra Buckingham, seated on the most comfortable chair in the room, which she had chosen as her entitlement. “It won’t help you get the part, whatever Arthur has in mind.”

“Thank heavens I only asked the three of you!” Arthur thought. What he actually said was quite different. “We’re doing a new play, a comedy, “All’s Right, Now That You’re Here”. There is a wonderful female romantic lead, Rosemary. She’s full of fun and deviltry.”

He paused for effect. “Surely one of you at least will fit the part perfectly. I have the scripts for you here. Take them back to the lodge. I’ll hear tryouts tomorrow morning at ten. Then we’ll really get down to business, with excerpts from the play. You - I mean for rehearsal, and then the lead actually selected - will be reading opposite Rex Lansford. I’ll be picking him up later tonight at the airport.”

That was Arthur Glendon’s moment, and he had played it to the hilt. The three women gasped. Nobody had expected to find, in this rural corner of Vermont, that Rex Lansford would be playing in Summer Theater. Lansford, they all knew, had just last week celebrated the opening of his latest film, a summer blockbuster that was earning more than Steven Spielberg’s latest.

Each woman knew that playing opposite Hollywood’s most bankable leading man could launch a career, or jump-start a stalled one. Janice Starling, Sandra Buckingham and Alice Cartwright each swore that she would get that part - nothing would stand in the way of that happening. They took their scripts and melted away to the lodge.

The actresses came to the realization at just about the same time. The play’s story was about an actress who got her big break by making sure that the competition for the part was unable to try out. It all seemed rather amateurish, a laxative substituted for a chocolate bar, a misleading phone message that the tryout was rescheduled, that sort of thing. It was an updated, “All About Eve” with an edge. But it was also a broad comedy, played strictly for laughs, and the part absolutely sparkled. Played opposite Rex Lansford, who knew where it might lead? And just what did Arthur Glendon have in mind, anyway? Didn’t he know how nervous he was making them? Was life supposed to imitate art, or the other way around?

Three guards went up, and the three actresses each made plans to secure the part. The more they read the play, the more the part sparkled, and the more they suspected each other.

They each came to dinner and sat at separate tables, glowering across the dining room. Nobody was going to slip a laxative past them! The evening was devoted to rehearsal preparation, each in her own room. It went on and on. In the wee hours of the morning, Sandra Buckingham talked so loudly that Alice Cartwright, who had the room just beneath Sandra’s, pounded on the ceiling with a stick to quiet her rival. The noise stopped. “Well, she’s really there after all,” Alice thought. “We’ll see about her in the morning!”

Janice Starling, who had the room next to Alice Cartwright, yawned in exhaustion. She decided not to go to breakfast in the morning. She asked the front desk for a wake up call, then took a sleeping pill and went back to bed.

Promptly at ten o’clock the following morning, Alice and Sandra were on the set, ready for the casting call. Arthur was first on the set as usual. He frowned, but refused the suggestion that someone be sent to remind the missing Janice Starling that she was overdue for the tryout.

“Pass me some of that hot lemonade, will you dearie?” Sandra said to Alice. Alice poured a mug of hot lemonade from the rolling snack bar just off the set. It was Sandra’s habit during rehearsals - so ingrained that directors made fun of the “hot lemonade” clause in her contracts. She wanted to clear her throat before going on stage. Sandra got just half way through her prepared monologue when she gasped and grabbed her throat.

“What’s going on!” she managed to say, in between coughs ... “Somebody sabotaged this drink. It’s got vinegar in it!” She glared at Alice and tried wildly to find something to clear her vocal cords. Finally, she sat down and stared at Glendon. “Give me some time to get over this,” she said.

“Of course, dear,” Glendon replied, in his very best butter-wouldn’t-melt tone of voice. He made a call with his cell phone, and then motioned to Alice Cartwright to begin her presentation. She started her monologue, but at that moment, Rex Lansford came onto the set. Glendon waved at Alice to continue, but with Lansford as a surprised witness, he and Sandra spent the next twenty minutes telling each other loud, boisterous stories. From onstage, Alice Cartwright looked at them first pleadingly, then in an imperious way, every inch Mary Queen of Scots faced with her persecutors.

Then Janice Starling entered the set, out of breath, dress barely arranged, embarrassed, and full of apologies. “I left a wakeup call, but they never called me until just a few minutes ago,” she said. The excuse sounded lame, and her voice began to lose confidence. Arthur Glendon made a great show of looking at his watch. Janice glared at him and broke into her monologue. It was brilliantly performed. She smiled and left the stage.

“Not so fast,” Alice said. “If you two are now ready to listen, I’m ready to perform.” Her monologue was flawless.

Sandra had cleared her throat at last. She had spent the evening memorizing Rosemary’s key speech at the end of Act Two. It was so well done, that even her competitors applauded.

Then Rex Lansford spoke to the three women. “You are all fine actresses, and Rosemary is a special part, somewhat devilish, I think Arthur told you. Just think what she would have done to get her part.” Then a light seemed to dawn, and the veteran star added, “I know what happened, and who is responsible for this very odd and untraditional tryout.”