User's Blogs

<p> I was recently in the play "Passengers" this semsters for school.  One of the the best experiences of my life I must say.  As an aspiring actress I have chosen to take the route of receiving my training through college courses.  Therefore I am required to write papers on various plays, scripts, and characters.  One of my assignments this semester was to put together a character analysis of Mrs. Evans which was one of my roles in the production.  Below is my take on what Mrs. Evans life could have been like before her scene in the play.  There is a spolier alert if you are not familiar with "Passengers".</p> <p>  </p> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 0px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1807422399" style="text-align: right; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 0px; width: auto; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; height: auto; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal; margin-right: 23px"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">Bryn Berg</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 0px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1371066748" style="text-align: right; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 0px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">THA-201 </span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 0px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="77938069" style="text-align: right; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 0px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">Character Biography </span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 0px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1741815459" style="text-align: right; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 0px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">February 10, 2012</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 0px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="2118737328" style="text-align: right; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 0px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal">  </p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 0px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1853315046" style="text-align: center; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 0px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">Character Biography for Mrs. Evans</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 0px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1413396661" style="text-align: center; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 0px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal">  </p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1970900448" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">I will just keep it simple, and introduce myself as Mrs. Evans.  I was born April 1, 1905 in Salt Lake City, Utah.  I always felt a little cursed that I entered this world on April Fools Day as life managed to pull a series of pranks on me.  My mother was an immigrant from Denmark, and came to this country with her Mormon family at the age of ten.  My father was born in the United States, and was also a Mormon.  Sadly he was raised in the religion when polygamy was still being practiced.   Therefore he still felt entitled to always having multiple women around even though he was married to my mother.  Poor mom always felt that she just had to put up with my fathers running around because she had hardly any education, and spoke very poor English.  I started to question the dynamic of our family at a very young age.  I was instructed to follow the beliefs of the Mormon Church by both of my parents yet my father was running around on my mother. </span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="2135840405" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">I was the only child in the family, which was unheard of in the Mormon Church.  Mom suffered many miscarriages after I was born, and pretty much just shut down emotionally.  I always got the feeling she married my father because she felt it was what her family wanted, and didn’t know anything else different.  My father did provide for us though with his job as a press operator for a large publication company.  My parents were both very thrifty with their spending, and we lived in comfortable home that they managed to hold onto even through the depression.  The depression taught me to always be very frugal, and never live too lavishly.  Because my parents were both very introverted I never became the most outspoken person, and was very shy.  I kept to myself in school, and watched all of the pretty girls become cheerleaders, land handsome boyfriends, and attend their proms.  I was a plane Jane that just blended in with the paint on the walls.  I stood five foot six, and always maintained a weight of around one hundred and thirty pounds.  My hair was thin, straight, and dirty blonde.  I must say it is on the more gray side now.  My clothes were mostly hand me downs from other members of the church, never designer labels.</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1283003969" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">  I did however do very well in school, and always made straight A’s.  During my senior year of high school I was accepted into Brigham Young University.  I also landed a part time job at a local flower shop.  This is where I met Harry.  Harry was always coming in to buy floral arrangements for what he said were his clients.  He was traveling salesman for circus supply company.  I loved his jolly personality, and his extreme drive to succeed.  He was always very impressed at how organized I was with his account, and how quickly I put together the numbers for the totals of what we sold to him.  He said I was a savvy little no nonsense businesswoman.  Oh how he made my heart flutter, and I would anticipate each time he came into the shop.  One day he surprised me by asking me to lunch.  I could not believe this handsome young successful man was interested in me.  We started dating, but I had to keep it a secret since he was not of the Mormon faith, and I knew my parents would never approve.</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="2021681677" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">Our meetings were always short, and they always ended up with me helping him organize the figures for all of his clients.  They felt more like business encounters.  I didn’t mind.  As long as I got to be with Harry I was happy.  Harry did not show me much affection, just an occasional peck on the cheek, but he called me his girl.  I would have done anything for Harry.  I wanted to be his wife.  My greatest fear was this never coming to fruition.</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1196091125" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">One day while I was in school my class was interrupted.  A staff member pulled my instructor out of the room, and I was asked to go with them outside into the hall.  I could tell by their faces something was terribly wrong.  My professor told me to sit down, and kneeled in front of me.  “There has been a serious accident, your parents were both just killed in a car wreck.  I’m very sorry.  Is there anyone we can call for you?”  </span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1699162561" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">There was no one.  My mother and father were my only family.  All I could think about was running to Harry, but then I realized I didn’t even know how to get in touch with him.  I became numb at that point, and proceeded home to make the necessary arrangements.  Not many would attend the funeral because of my father’s well-known philandering lifestyle.  I called the flower shop to let them know what happened, and to leave word for Harry to call me.  There was some insurance money from my parent’s accident, and the home I grew up in was left to me.  I decided not to finish the semester, and take a leave of absence from my job.  My boss and his family were very compassionate, and even offered to help me money wise if needed.  I let them know I was left in a decent financial state.  I then waited and waited for Harry to contact me.  My employer let Harry know of the tragedy that occurred in my life, and he said to send me his deepest condolences.  After a few weeks Harry apparently inquired on my financial status, and the owner of the shop informed him that I was probably set for the remainder of my life because of my gift of business smarts.  That night Harry showed up on my doorstep with the shops cheapest bouquet of flowers, a silver gold band, and asked me to marry him.  It was I thought the happiest moment of my life.  Harry claimed he did not buy me a fancy ring because he knew I liked to keep things practical.  I was not very impressed, but I didn’t care.  I was going to be Harry’s wife.  Nothing else mattered.  We went down to the Salt Lake City courthouse the next morning.  After the ceremony I pranced outside with my head held higher than ever because I had landed Utah’s most eligible bachelor.  I could see other women whispering as we passed by, but I knew they were just envious of me.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the Salt Lake City Temple where I should have been married to a decent Mormon man.  So what if I wasn't going to what Mormons call the Celestial Kingdom where I would be in paradise for time and all eternity!  It would be worth suffering in the after life and residing in a lower kingdom knowing I had this short time on Earth with Harry.  My existence was now a fairytale.</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1823728565" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">The honeymoon was over very quickly; in fact there never was a honeymoon.  As soon we got back to my house Harry instructed me to put my parents home on the market, and asked me to provide all of the records of my current finances.  Once he looked them over Harry told me to go to the bank and put his name on all of the accounts.  Again, I did as he asked because I just wanted to make him happy, and I was terrified of losing him.  Sadly, I learned very quickly that I never had Harry.  I was just an asset he acquired to get ahead in life.  The proceeds from my parents home were used to move us to the Midwest where his circus supply company was located.  He had me purchase two homes.  One was for us to live in, and the other he claimed was for his office, and to entertain his clients.  Harry was hardly ever home, and still never showed me much affection.  I tried my best to look attractive for him, kept our home immaculate, and organized his work affairs with ultimate precision.  I also tried my best to conceive a child, but was never successful.  I thought having Harry’s offspring would make him love me.</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1251471621" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">People around town began to whisper about strange instances occurring at Harry’s home office, and that Harry had fetishes for odd women circus performers.  One day I dropped by the other home to find Harry engaged in a sexual act with a bearded woman named Annie.   After five years of marriage I realized I was invisible again just like when I was growing up, and I numbed myself.  Mom had taught me this all too well.  I faced the fact that Harry only married me because of my business sense and my inheritance.  I couldn’t leave the marriage because all of the finances were in Harry’s name, and I would be penniless. And so for the next fifteen years I just resigned to being Harry’s secretary, accountant, and housekeeper.  I moved my things into another room in the house. Of course Harry did not kick up a fuss about it.  I never complained, or questioned anything Harry did.  He made very good money, and I was careful to never spend too much of it.  I turned a blind eye, and a deaf ear to all of the notorious affairs Harry was engaging in with circus women throughout the country.  I even put up with Harry’s stick in the mud mother coming to visit from time to time, and was always cordial to Harry’s friends and colleagues who I have to say could be quite obnoxious most of the time</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="831934309" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">On April 1, 1955 I received a knock at the door around 11:00 PM.  Harry was out of town for a so-called business trip.  My heart sank as I found two police officers standing on the porch.  They both removed their hats, and told me Harry had been killed in a circus accident.  The men asked me the familiar question “is there anyone we can call for you?”  Once again there wasn’t. My marriage to Harry hadn’t been a fairytale of course, and most of me had come to almost hate him.  However, the young hopeful girl still buried inside of me kept loved him like crazy despite everything.  She not only loved him, but also still had a zest for life.  This sassy young lady residing inside of me would try and poke her head in from time to time when I was frustrated and sad all throughout my married life, but I refused to let her surface.  I could feel her crying inside of me, but I kept my  emotions buried.  Once again, I had business to take care of.</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1137577483" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">I made the arrangements for Harry’s funeral, at a local church, and asked each of Harry’s closest colleagues and friends to spread word of the details of Harry’s service.  None of Harry’s acquaintances had ever taken the time to get to know me, but were surprised at how efficiently I handled everything.  They even complimented on what a pleasant lovely lady I was, and didn’t understand why Harry never brought me around more often.  With my spirits lifted from my recent recognition I was prepared to get the funeral under way.  I had no idea that I was about to walk into a series of landmines.</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1863303140" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">When I got to the church, and the casket was opened a completely made up clown laid inside the coffin.  I was horrified at the mistake the mortuary had made.  The minister and guests had already begun to arrive.  I was too stunned to stop the service, and the mockery that began to take place.  The next hour was pretty much a blur, and I was too in much shock to stop the minister from telling racial jokes.  Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse a S.W.A.T. team showed up, and helicopters began to circle the building.  Apparently a terrorist got confused, thought the church was a government office, and called in a bomb threat.  And then I saw her!  I saw Annie hiding in the corner of the church. The next thing I knew I woke up on the couch in my own home surrounded by a group of acrobats from one of the circuses Harry worked with.  Apparently I had collapsed in the church.  They were gracious enough to take me home, and watch over me until I came to.   They were even kind enough to call the mortuary for me, and track down Harry’s body.  Little did I know I was going to be thrown for another loop.  Harry had been cremated by mistake, and I was to meet a Mr. Wade at the local bus station tomorrow afternoon to collect Harry’s ashes, and return the clown’s body.</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="445243144" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">That night I couldn’t sleep of course so I went through the mail that had piled up, and learned that a handsome sum from Harry’s life insurance policy was due me, and my investments had grown rather handsomely.  I was going to be very set financially, but what would I do with all of this excessive money?  I had never done anything for myself before.  I could take a trip to Hawaii, take piano lessons, and buy an actual piece of clothing with a designer label.  I still had plenty of life in me that I had never lived.  I stopped my train of though immediately.  How dare I think such thoughts so soon after Harry’s death.</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1245413571" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">The next day I met Mr. Wade at the bus station to make the trade.  I just wanted to get it all over with.  I was almost embarrassed for Mr. Wade, as he was trying to smooth everything over and avoid a lawsuit.  The last thing I wanted was to drag things out any further.  It was still a shock though when Harry’s remains were handed to me in an urn, and my curiosity got the best of me.  I never really knew the exact details of how Harry was killed.  Mr. Wade informed me of a serious of tragic events that led to Harry's death when the fat lady landed on him while watching a circus performance.  I felt a little better knowing that Harry did at least not suffer, and was killed on impact.   </span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1160752354" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">Just when I thought the trade was complete, and everything was behind me Mr. Wade advised me that he found a bracelet in Harry’s pocket.  “Did Harry actually remember me on my birthday?”  Finally, I was going to be appreciated for all I had done for him.  I was so excited inside I thought I was going to burst.  I examined the beautiful gold bracelet in total awe.  Mr. Wade then informed me that it was inscribed.  Butterflies were swarming inside of me.  I knew the words wouldn’t be </span><span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">lovey</span><span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">dovey</span><span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">, but I thought at least they would say something along the lines of “happy birthday Eleanor, thank you for everything you do”.  However, I was wrong and found it said “to my darling, Annie.  I’ll love you always Harry.”  Harry had made a fool of me once more even after his death.  I wanted to throw the bracelet on the floor and stomp on it, but what good would that have done?  Mr. Wade tried his best to console me.  Bless that mans heart. I tried my best to keep my composure as Mr. Wade and I said an awkward good bye.  Our whole conversation was like watching the waves of a turbulent ocean.  So many ups and downs, and finally when I saw the message on the bracelet it was like a tsunami hit.  </span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="664080044" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal"> <span class="TextRun SCX207775333" style="font-family: Times New Roman, Serif; font-size: 12pt" xml:lang="EN-US">After Mr. Wade was gone I stood in the middle of the bus stop frozen for a moment.  I couldn’t ignore that young girl hopeful inside of me anymore.  She all of a sudden became a voice of reason.  All of Harry’s friends and Mr. Wade had paid me so many compliments.  I really wasn’t invisible.  People actually respected, and liked me.  I had my health, and plenty of years left of living.  I decided that I would never let anyone dictate my self worth again.  Harry was a selfish man with creepy fetishes.  “The joke is on you Harry!  I am the one reaping the benefits now.  I’m off to travel the world, and guess what, your not invited!”  I thought to myself, and began to grin like a Cheshire cat.  I threw Harry’s filthy ashes in nearest trashcan, took off my black hat, and pranced out of the bus station.  My mouth began to almost hurt in a good way from the delicious taste of liberation.</span></p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1647025970" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal">  </p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="1299600857" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal">  </p> </div> <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX207775333" style="text-indent: 48px; margin-left: 0px"> <p class="Paragraph SCX207775333" paraid="722172533" style="text-align: left; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-indent: 48px; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, 'Sans-Serif'; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal">  </p> </div> <p>  </p>

<p> This semester I was lucky enough to be part of the production of "Passengers" by Sam Bobrick.  I was even more blessed to play two very different roles which was a tremendous help in exploring my range of acting abilities.  This was a brilliant play full of some of the darkest comedy, but also had some very deep morals to it's stories.  One of my roles was Marsha, and elderly, crazy, violent woman, who felt her heart was in the right place.  I had so much fun wearing an dumpy dress, and putting on a grey wig that was actually worn by my director when she performed on Broadway.   My second role was Mrs. Evans who was middle aged woman mourning her husbands death that occured from an accident while watching a circus act.  This play that was directed by Shezwae Powell a former Broadway and West End actress.  She is an amzing women, and I feel like I hit the acting lottery in getting to work with her.  As students we were asking to write a personal essay on what we learned from this experience.  I have pasted it below.  I am not the best writer, and I got a little carried away.  I grew so much as an actor during this production, and would love to share some my own personal techniques that I acquired while being a part of this play  in regards to my craft.  There are also a few spoiler alerts if you are not familiar with the play.  Parts of this essay might also be a little confusing because they refer to a few inside jokes with our cast.</p> <p> Enjoy!</p> <p>  </p> <p>  </p> <p align="right"> Bryn Berg</p> <p align="right"> May 5, 2012</p> <p align="right"> THA-201 Section 3284</p> <p align="right"> Personal Essay</p> <p align="right">  </p> <p align="center"> “A Much Better Role”</p> <p>             The night of January 18^th, 2012 I was given some of the most exciting news of my life.  I was informed that I was going to be part of the cast of “Passengers”.  I was even awarded the role of Mrs. Evans which I was so hoping to play.  A little over a week later on the first day of rehearsal I was even more surprised to find I was not only playing Mrs. Evans, but also the role of Marsha.  I felt I had struck the acting lottery, but was a little worried.  Even though I had been studying theater and acting for the past two semesters I had not been in a play since sixth grade.  I knew I had my work cut out for me.</p> <p>             For some reason my choices on how I played Mrs. Evans came very naturally.  There was so much of her story I could relate to in my own life.  Ironically I had told my recent ex-boyfriend at the time that dating him was like being stuck in a fun house (not so far off from the circus) due to the fact that he had been untruthful to me about so many things, and had so much drama going on.  I was pretty much humiliated like Mrs. Evans was when she was given the bracelet that was meant for Harry’s mistress.  I discovered through a lot of snooping around on facebook that my former boyfriend had a girlfriend in another state.  He was even low enough to ask me to take the airport to see her.  He of course told me he was going to see his family. </p> <p>             This scene also reminded me so much of a death that occurred in my family back in 1995.  Sadly our loved one that passed away was a good hearted soul, but was involved in a few questionable business dealings we were not aware of.  This all came out right after this individuals death, and I watched his poor wife not only deal with losing her husband, but also learn some terrible truths of the man she loved.  She had always been a very reserved, kind hearted, conservative, and very proper woman.  After her better half left this world I watched her change and evolve over the years.  I think she felt that she had to be the perfect wife, and convert to a religion she really didn’t completely have faith in.  This woman developed into the true person she had always been.  The transformation was beautiful, she turned out to be a fun, smart, full of life woman with a little bit of naughty streak.  I patterned  Mrs. Evan’s character after this lovely lady, and also channeled in the recent experiences with my ex-boyfriend. </p> <p>             I felt that what was vital in ensuring this scene stayed true to the brilliant comedy behind it was that Mrs. Evans was not over acted.  I remembered in the comedy “The Naked Gun” for Priscilla Presley’s part she was very subtle in her role even though her character was involved in some of the most preposterous and silly events one could ever imagine.  I feel that, because she made these choices while staring in this movie it complimented the film so well. It was hysterical that she was this classy reserved lady that almost seemed oblivious to the fact her boss was a criminal, and that she was having an affair with Leslie Neilson’s character (Frank  Drebin) who was pretty much a total ding dong police officer. </p> <p>             As the performance came closer I remembered something that I had learned about Sean Penn (one of my favorite actors of all time) when writing a paper on him last semester.  He had had said that when he plays a role he simply focuses on the hidden truths of any character he plays.  I had acquired so much knowledge over the past few semesters on acting, and I was trying to incorporate everything I learned into both Marsha and Mrs. Evans.  It was way too much for me, and impossible for me to do.  It suddenly dawned on me that I didn’t have to do this, and this was the reason why I was struggling with my craft.  It has always been said there is no right or wrong way when it comes to performing.  I made the risky choice to go through everything that had been taught to me by my acting professors, and pick out what I felt was most important to always keep in mind while on stage.  I went back to basics, and chose three things to zone in on.  In my introduction to theater class the professor stressed over and over again “have fun with your part no matter what you are playing, because if you’re not having a good time on stage neither will your audience.”  Second I took into account what was mentioned to me many times last semester in my acting for commercials and television course which that acting is “listening and reacting”.  I feel this is what acting is in a nutshell, because this is how all of us as humans interact and communicate with each other.  My third decision was a huge gamble, but I do feel it paid off for me in developing Mrs. Evans and Marsha for the production.  I decided that I had to find my own original way of playing a character like Sean Penn has.  I really pondered why I have always loved acting so much, and why certain performances of actors had stuck out and some didn’t.  The answer actually came to me very quickly.  When I perform I want to be able to deliver my lines and mannerisms in a way that will make the viewer stop dead in their tracks and be able to put themselves in the scene, feel what it would be like to be in the situation if it occurred their own life, and walk away possibly having a whole new perception on their personal beliefs, learning to not be so harsh on themselves, reconciling with someone over a silly disagreement, the list can go on and on.  I found that this is what made certain performances so memorable to me.  I made up my mind that this was going to be my Sean Penn style of acting.  I never forgot my who’s, when’s, or why’s though, and kept them very accessible as well as the stories I had created for my parts. Once I started going this route everything just became so much easier, and Marsha and Mrs. Evans just took on lives of their own as well as their character quirks. </p> <p>             I pretty much had Mrs. Evans summed up, but because of my new choices I wanted to convey to any women or man watching the play that we as people should never let someone who has hurt and humiliated us dictate our self-worth or self-esteem.  Life is too short and precious to waste and pine away and cry over an individual who has wronged us, and there is no situation in life we can’t turn around no matter how bad it seems at the time.  I know this from many personal experiences in my own life. The dialogue between Mr. Wade was between Mrs. Wade was hysterical, but it has always been said that behind a good comedy there is truth.  Through all of the ups and downs I have been through during my life I have found a way to laugh at whatever is going on no matter how morbid the circumstance may have been.  Throwing the urn away during every performance was pure liberation for me because I was also tossing remnants of bad relationship, and in a silent way having the last word.   I so hope I projected this energy and my own personal morals to this story to our audiences.</p> <p>             My last minute choices also helped me give birth to a new Marsha.  I’m not proud to admit this, but I have been around people with mental issues for most of my life.  There are members of my immediate and extended family that have bi-polar disorder, depression, manic depression, and problems with substance abuse.  Because of this I have a lot more patience with people that are a little off their rockers, and sympathetic towards them because I know that under their illness most of the time there is a beautiful person.  Sadly, they just can’t help it when their brain chemistry is off.  I also feel individuals may behave in certain ways or have strange quirks to protect themselves from past traumatic events.   There is no way around it.  When a person displays behavior as a result from a mental illness it is going to be funny a lot of the time because it is out of the norm.   One of my family members actually laughs at themselves and their bizarre actions after they have balanced out after a manic episode.  That is they have learned to cope.  I chose to bring all of what I have mentioned above into Marsha’s character.  I wanted it to be known that Marsha was a wacko, but she really thought her heart was in the right place, and that well she was creating a much better world.  However, if she was given some professional help everyone would see the normal and amazing woman she most likely is.  I wanted her character to be funny because I have witnessed by watching family members that there is a lot of humor involved when being treated for a mental condition.  I also saw Marsha as a woman in her late seventies, and tried to make this believable by hunching over to make myself appear shorter, and grabbing my back like I was in pain after hitting Ernest. I also remembered a crazy person that I saw when I was stuck in a hospital emergency room on Friday night a few years back.  Two police officers handcuffed him to a wheelchair and stuck him the corner.  He kept making this crazy smile with his mouth open.  I patterned my crazy smile after this man.</p> <p>             Before each performance I would go through all of my lines, and rehearse with my cast mates as well if there was time.  I also got into the habit of reading through all of my lines for an hour each day a month before the performances started even though I knew them down pat.  When the production would start I would get in my own zone and read through the scripts again.  I would also have Seferino say random things to me that would push my buttons.  That got me really pumped up to go on stage and not be mad at him, but his character.  I also would pace back and forth quietly with my crazy face on and swing my purse around while thinking of the Wicked Witch of the West theme song from Wizard of Oz.  Myself, Sefarino, and Callie also had a ritual we did right before going on stage. We would stand in a circle and touch hands to make sure we were all in sync with each other since there was so much blocking.  As I would wait behind the curtain to go stage I would literally make myself believe that this scene was real, and I was dying to jump in. </p> <p>             For Mrs. Evans I did not have much time between scenes.  I would change quickly, and literally block out everything and anything going on around me.  I would look at the cut up pieces of my ex’s sweatshirt so I would not forget what I was going to be throwing out at the end of the scene.  The two characters I played were very different extremes so I would also stop, take many deep breathes and picture the disposition of my prim and proper grandmother.  Next I had eye drops that I would insert to make me remember how many tears Mrs. Evans must have cried.  I also had a mental timeline where I would picture the entire messy service that took place with the clown in her husband’s casket.  As creepy as it sounds I also envisioned Harry’s body being cremated, so that I wouldn’t forget how horrifying it would be to not see your better half one more time in the flesh.  It was also very important for me to touch base with James right before the scene started so the connection between our characters was established. </p> <p>             I could go on and on forever about how much I learned and feel I have grown as not only as an actor during this play, but also as a person.  There is one thing I would like to bring up that I wish I had done differently.  After the play was over I had a deep conversation with Callie about how she viewed our scene together, and what she felt the moral of the story was.  She brought up some vital points that I had missed, and feel if I had known her take on the scene my performance would have been a lot more heartfelt.  Going forward I will always take the time to sit down with any other actors I am working with, and listen to how they see the plot of any story as well as the characters.  To me one of the lessons “Passengers” teaches us is that everyone views life and its meaning very differently, and we as humans get so caught up in our own day to day craziness that we often forget this.  What’s important to one person might be completely irrelevant to another.  I will take this message I acquired from the play, and always remember that in of my future roles it very important to take the time to listen to how other actors I am working with see the story and characters through their own eyes because their views could be polar opposite from mine.  And hopefully by using this new found tool I can at least create a much better role than can maybe influence the audience to contribute in making “a much better world”.</p> <p>  </p> <p>  </p>