Just last week... Opening night.. Show, Over The Tavern.. I was playing Chet the dad, I am having a very serious conversation with my wife and I am relating that my drunken father has just quit because I told him he had to quit drinking... It is one of the "resolution" moments at the end of the play.... I am suppose to say:  I told him I would help him, over the rough spots, you know.  I know lots of guys in AA, it's no shame, I even said I would go to the meetings with him..."  What I REALLY said was  "... I know lots of guys in triple A and its no shame....."  Serious moment gone forever... But hey, got enough of a laugh, the director was seriously considering have me keep it in... I didn't.

Differnt play, different flub.. it happens..

Let's see . . . there's got to be one that years of therapy haven't erased yet . . .

I guess my best was in The Desperate Hours.  I was playing Robish, the least couth of the three escaped murderers.  The premise is that these guys hold a family hostage in their own house.  So I clomped around, drooled, generally acted apelike.

The set dressers put a plate of M&Ms on the stage, and one night I figured, hey, I'll grab some and throw them in the general direction of my mouth.  So yum, M&Ms, except that a piece of one got caught in my throat.  Choke, hack, cough, and I sounded like Harvey Fierstein the rest of that act. 

Second best was in Any Wednesday.  I played the businessman who had a suburban wife and a downtown mistress, kept in the company apartment.  They meet, of course, and at one point we're all playing a word game, Ghost or some such.  So one night, I start us off . . .

with the wrong word.  I use the word that comes LATER in the scene, and it won't make sense to do that bit now, and the game won't make sense if the others don't continue with the right words.

The lady (bless her) who played my wife simply sneered, "I don't like that word.  Try another."   I gave her the evil eye, started the game with the RIGHT word, and then when I started the next round, used the word (correct at this point) I had used before, with a little sniff in her direction.  Ended up almost more fun than the way it was written, but man, that was scary for a while.

Though I certainly have enough of my own gaffs to fill a book, the one that I remember the best was made by another actor 30 years ago in a production of "Inherit the Wind".  In the big courtroom confrontation between Drummond and Brady, leading up to the big moment when Brady says something like "I'm not concerned with the age of rocks, but rather the Rock of Ages", all would have been well had Drummond given Brady the right cue, which was something about "Do you see this rock in my hand?"  For whatever reason, on the given night, Drummond asked Brady "do you see this sponge in my hand?"  Where do you go from there?

The poor actor that portrayed Brady was also the victim of another gaff.  Probably 35-40 years ago, in one of the Dracula plays, he portrayed a character that was a doctor, I'll call him "Dr.X"(I'm vague on this since it was before I was involved in the Playhouse.  I'm just repeating stories that have since become legends).  He was waiting for his Act I entrance when he heard the character onstage that was supposed to give him his cue announce to all and sundry that "Dr.X" had passed on.....a line that wasn't supposed to be given until Act III!  There went Poor Actor's entrance....and all the rest of his scenes as well.  I suppose he could have entered and said something like "rumors of my death have been grossly exaggerated", but.....again, where do you go from there?

Two more of my personal favorites occurred in the same production of "Harvey"...and one of them was mine.  The actor playing Elwood P. Dowd was supposed to charm the young nurse with the line "I'd much rather sit here and look at you, my dear" or something like that.  It came tripping out of his mouth as "I'd ratch mother...etc."  We never let him forget it, and created the myth that "ratch mothers" were the little furry creatures living in the Playhouse basement!  My own flub (I was playing Veda Louise) was when I was supposed to say that "I have taken a course in art" (referencing the portrait that was supposed to be my sainted mother, but was in reality one of Harvey and Elwood).  Have you ever opened your mouth and heard words that you've never memorized or spoken before flow out?  Well, what flowed out was "I have taken a court in arse", something the very proper Veda would never have admitted to!

One of my favorites happened in Noel Coward's "Private Lives". I was playing Victor and had turned to Elyot and said my line... I thought. It wasn't a funny line, at least it never had been, but the audience that night thought it was hysterical. I was puzzled and my hind-brain went into overdrive... what had I said? About two pages later I figured it out... I'd said to Elyot, "I intend to divorce YOU naming AMANDA as co-respondant!" Not Coward... more likely Wilde, but I'd said it and it was way too late to take it back.

And then there's the legend passed down in our theater about the gentleman who was in the middle of a passionate monologue (can't remember the name of the show) when his false teeth flew out of his mouth toward the audience! Said gentleman, in an amazing display of reflexes, reached out, grabbed his teeth on the fly, put them back in his mouth and continued as if nothing happened.

My favorite happened during "The Taming of the Shrew."

I was playing Tranio, the servant to Lucentio.  Unfortunately, the costumer was overwhelmed with all the period pieces and produced a hat for Lucentio that was ill-fitting and looked ridiculous on him.

The actor playing Lucentio had enormous problems with that hat (and hated it from day one as it would continually fall off his head or over his eyes, etc.

I guess the actor finally reached the breaking point, for in the scene where Lucentio gets the idea to have Tranio impersonate him, he's supposed to hand me the costume pieces and say the line (as written) "Tranio, at once uncase thee; take my colored hat and cloak."

Instead the line uttered was close to "Tranio, at once uncase thee ... take this f**king hat and cloak!"

Fortunately, his speech continued for a couple more lines as I was too shocked to speak, not exactly sure of what I heard.  I don't believe  Lucentio was fully aware he said it, either.

It wasn't until we got off stage and saw all others laughing hysterically (but silently) that we were sure of what happened.  Apparently, it was caught by very few audience members who assumed either they misheard the phrase entirely or were convinced that Shakespeare really was a writer for all the ages.

Mike Polo:  re:  flying dental work

You must have seen my husband when he played George in "Moon Over Buffalo"!  Luckily he had fast reflexes and quick hands!

I was the balladeer in "Best Little Whorehouse" (can we say that?), had the first line in the play, complete with guitar and cowboy hat.  I've got a habit of running my first line several times before going onstage to lock it in, break the ice, hit the ground running.  So "It was the nicest little whorehouse you ever saw" was primed, ready and jumping at the reins to pop out to the audience when what came out was:

"It was the nicest little horse house you ever saw."

Knew it when I said it, mentally kicked myself unmercifully, and soldiered on with grace and enthusiasm.

OK maybe not as tragic or humorous as some that I've read.   I committed one of the bigger offenses that I can think of last night in a performance of California Suite.   I play Marvin in the visitors from Philadelphia, the piece about hiding the hooker from his wife Millie.  In the opening sequence I'm supposed to try and get a pair of fishnet pantyhose on to the passed out hooker.   Completely forgot to do the bit and the dialog that goes with it which gets some of the biggest laughs in the show.    I resurected the dialog when I went back in the room to drag the hooker out to the hall but it didn't get nearly the laughs that it gets with the bit itself.   I was beside myself when I got off stage.

Nine out of ten performances ain't bad I guess (provided I don't forget tonight or tomorrow).

Honey (juror#3):  I already told that story about you 8 posts ago!

Love,

red diva

I, for one, can't get enough of the Juror #3 Denture Story.  In fact, I wish someone would post it again, right now!  Maybe I will!  Although I think I'll punch it up a little.  I think you should have the teeth fly into the audience and start eating someone's apple dumplings all by themselves.  Or maybe they could bite somebody who was talking during the show. 

Yeah, I know.  I'm stupid. 

It's ok Steve... I laughed the second time too...

I was costuming a production of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas and was in the back of the house during a rehearsal doing fittings.  The actor playing the father was checking off a list of things he was to pick up at the market. 

His line was supposed to be, "Peanuts.  I like peanuts."

His line came off as, "Penis.  I like penis."

He had that enunciation down pat by opening night.

falstaff29:

That "24 hour theatre" sounds rather harrowing, but challenging.  Our local university does the same thing, but calls it "Triage Theatre" - perhaps a very appropriate name according to what you wrote and what I've heard locally!

Oooh, you've brought back a scary memory this Hallowe'een .

(Off topic, since it wasn't MY screwup, but still.)

A few years ago we did a whodunit called Whodunit.  The main character dies, but is allowed to come back to earth to solve his own murder.  It's not actually as funny as the premise, unfortunately.  Anyway, the detective has two very similar speeches, one in Act I, the other in Act II.  Well, one night during Act I, he (without realizing it) shifted into Act II.  That would have made for a very short and very confusing play.  I was able to (somewhat ham-fistedly) bring him back -- something of the old "So what you're telling us is . . . ." wheeze.  Man, that was scary for a while!

ETA:  From this day forward, "pants business" shall be my Official Favorite Euphemism (tm). 

ETA: From this day forward, "pants business" shall be my Official Favorite Euphemism (tm).

Originally posted by eveharrington ETA: From this day forward, "pants business" shall be my Official Favorite Euphemism (tm). Ahhh, my gift to you, go forth in peace but use this new power wisely and for good.

Aw, that's no fun.  The heck with it, then!

Originally posted by eveharrington Originally posted by POB14 Originally posted by eveharrington ETA: From this day forward, "pants business" shall be my Official Favorite Euphemism (tm). Ahhh, my gift to you, go forth in peace but use this new power wisely and for good. Aw, that's no fun. The heck with it, then! Alright, alright, yell it at small children from a moving car then.

"But . . . but . . . officer, Eve Harrington said I could . . . yes, yes, of course I'm aware that's a character from a Bette Davis movie, do you think I'm stupid? . . . well, okay, you can think that if you want, but . . . no, I do not think Bette Davis talks to me, Anne Baxter played that part, and anyway it wasn't Bette Davis, or Anne Baxter either, it was Eve Harrington . . . now, now, put that taser down, I'm not . . . AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!"

One of my favorite stories was told to me by a friend.

He had been working lights for a community theater production of some (forgotten) early twentieth century romantic melodrama.  Through the course of the play, he roguish hero sins and then redeems himself through many altruistic acts.  At the end of the play there is a climactic swordfight where the hero is fatally stabbed, causing him to fall into the arms of his friend, and there give his "farewell to the world" dying speech.  He then dies.  The friend sadly looks up, out past the audience and gives the curtain line:  "He died... fire darting from his eyes."  At this point the curtain is somberly brought down on the final tableau.

On the given night, there was electricity in the air from moment the curtain first went up.  Before the packed house, each scene engaged the audience more intensely than the previous one, resulting in thunderous applause, as the first act curtain was brought down.

The second act was even better, drawing cheers from the crowd as the curtain was lowered for the second intermission. 

Primed for the third act of the play, the excited cast went on, playing each scene with greater ease and assurance than at any previous performance of the show.  The play had soared and now it was time for the final scene...

The swordfight went flawlessly.  The hero having been stabbed, fell gracefully into his friend's arms and eloquently delivered his final speech.  The friend, then sensing his cue, took a dramatic pause, looked out over the heads of the audience members and gave the curtain line which has been remembered to this day:

"He died... farting."

There was a slight moment of hesitation and then the curtain was slowly let down.

After a confused pause in the audience, one member eventually began to clap, and the others, out of form, followed suit.

A great moment in the theatre.

I played Gertrude in Hamlet a few years ago. We took the closet scene to a competition...I know the show like the back of my hand, the closet scene is my favourite to perform....

 We are at the competition...we were in the Closet Scene...

 Hamlet yelling and screaming at me, I am sobbing, he says something.....I blank...what did he just say? where are we in the scene? what was my last line??? I can't remember a thing...I sit there sobbing for a second and then pull my darling hamlet close to me, "Where are we???" I hiss in his ear, he pulls back disgusted in true Hamlet form, I pull him back this time so his head is upstage to me he hisses back "O, Hamlet, thou hast..." I let go of him relieved, but look at him with such love passion remorse and shame when I say this line that we win first prize and the ajudicator chooses that part to particularly give us credit for!!!

So, a very embarassing and potentially devastating moment was translated into first prize and high regard!!

Jenni

Our first production as a dinner theatre company ended with a Sunday matinee. Evidently I missed the memo on show time.  Thinking it started at 3 (as did every other matinee I had done locally) I spent the morning gathering closing show gifts for cast and crew.  I pulled into the parking lot at a quarter of 2 (which would have been earlier if not for the shopping, I am generally the first person to arrive) only to find the 60 year old director pulling out what little was left of his hair with one hand and chain-smoking cigarettes with the other.  He raced (yeah, raced) to my car and opened the door saying we had a full house, dinner served and settled and showtime a little over ten minutes away.  I barely had time to slap on a little makeup and strip down to my boxers before the lights went down and I entered the stage.