Christopher Owens: 1997

Perhaps the most significant change at Wayside for 1997 was the extending of the theatre season from the usual seven productions to a nine play season. “In the past, Wayside began its season in late May and continued through October, followed by a break in November before coming back for its finale, “A Christmas Carol” in December” (McCarty.  “Expanded Season.”  TWS.  16 Apr. 1997).  For 1997, the season opened with two productions under the heading of ‘Children’s Theatre events.’  Celia’s Marionettes was scheduled for two performances of Julianna and the North Wind on March 29.  Owner Celia Collins “plays all the characters, handles the music, staging and lighting for the production” (McCarty.  “Theater for kids.”  TWS.  26 March 1997).  Following each performance, Collins spoke to the audience and demonstrated how children could use puppets to create their own stories.   

The second Children’s Theatre event, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, was made possible, in part, by a grant from the Virginia Commission for the Arts and by the sponsorship of Patrick Homes.  Written by Owens and performed in the style of a 1940 radio show, this production was scheduled over two weekends, April 16 - 27.  The purpose of these productions was not only to extend the Wayside season, but also provide events designed especially for children in the hopes of getting them interested in attending theatre events.  The files contained one newspaper announcement of Julianna and the North Wind, but no photographs.  While there are no newspaper accounts in the files for The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, there are a few production photos.  

An announcement for a fund raiser appeared in the press for a program called “String Sounds of the Shenandoah.”  This Bluegrass concert took place on Wayside’s stage on February 28, 1997.  Featured were The Lynn Morris Band, Sleepy Creek, the Red and Murphy group, along with New Liberty and the Deep Water groups.  Seating was reserved and all proceeds went to benefit the theatre, specifically towards the $20,000 expenditure for a new lighting system for the Theatre.  

Also in 1997, the Theatre hosted the first black-tie fund raising event featuring actor, James Earl Jones.  (SEE: Appendix, Gala Fundraisers).

Despite the two previous productions, the June show, the highly energetic Pump Boys and Dinettes, was still referred to as the season opener.  It was suggested that one arrive at the theatre early in order to take in the set which was a combination gas station/automobile repair shop on the left and a diner on the other side.  Upon entering the theatre, one saw “treasures and trash onstage:  Dole banana cartons, an antique air pump, a plastic Elvis,” and the list continues.  The set even included the rear end of an old white Dodge car waiting to be repaired! To get the car into the theatre took some real team work, as there was no door large enough at the rear of the building to get the the car on to the stage.  Consequently, it was delicately wedged through the theatre’s front door, maneuvered through the small lobby, carried over the seats, and placed on the stage. A newspaper photo shows the car half way through the front doors. accompanied by an overview of the upcoming season (Sullivan.  “Wayside’s lineup ….”  TWS.  12 June 1997).  Pump Boys was a knockout. There is no real plot, just brief dialog that leads into a song.  The music is a “delicious blend of various styles, from boogey-woogey, to sultry, and western, from the sublime to the ridiculous” (Willis-Stokes.  “Wayside’s ‘Pump Boys’ Is ….”  TWS.  13 June 1997).  The cast was great, as they all played a variety of instruments; there was tap dancing, and excellent singing.  But, it was the two women, “playing the tackiest waitresses who ever trod the boards of a diner” that really stole the show (Randolph. “Getting’ pumped over ….”  CSE.  22 June 1997). 

Next in the season was, Moon Over Buffalo, a production that “emphasizes the slapstick and broad comedy” with a “lot of running about and slamming of doors.”  Each actor is praised for their particular character, ranging from nerdy to deaf, and all the action is “like witnessing a fire drill in a sanatorium.”  The reviewer concludes, the play is “an enjoyable evening’s entertainment. The audience came away chuckling and giggling, with broad smiles” (Willis-Stokes.  “Laughter Shines from ….”  TWS.  11 July 1997). 

Clarke Middleton, who “was so superb” in the 1996 production of Greetings, served as the director for the very powerful and moving, Marvin’s Room.  Middleton “has each character in his cast create an unforgettable portrait for the audience to enjoy and long remember” (Randolph. “ ‘Marvin’s Room’ moves, delights.”  CSE.  24 Aug. 1997).  The very sparse, multi-level set that used only a few pieces of furniture, was quite functional.  The strong cast brought out all the emotion of this powerful play, “intense with the drama of everyday life” (Willis-Stokes. “The Echoes from ‘Marvin’s Room’ ….” TWS.  8 Aug. 1997).  Horan felt that the script caused the play to fizzle, but was successful due to the strong acting by the entire cast.  He mentioning several instances where this occurs, emphasizing the giving of grandfather’s toolbox to a grandson.  He praises the set with its screens, “one of which reveals a scrim with Marvin’s room where granddad is an ethereal presence” (Horan.  “Good acting can’t ….”  NVD.  9 Aug. 1997).

The production of An Inspector Calls appeared to be many things:  “a mystery, a plea for brotherhood, a metaphor for collective security, an inquiry into the power of illusion,” states Horan’s review that concludes, “If one of Priestley’s goals is to portray how boring the British upper crust can be, he succeeds admirably” (Horan. “ ‘Inspector’ is a whodunit ….”  NVD. 30 Aug. 1997).  As the play progresses, each of the characters ‘crumbles’ as more about them is revealed.  The elegant set plays along as the “elegant drawing room has pictures askew in Act II, and a fractured arch in Act III” (Horan. 30 Aug. 1997).  Another writer agrees and writes, “We see a tight package exquisitely wrapped as the curtain rises, and then the layers come off so slowly and dramatically.  A silk purse in the first half of the show becomes a festering sow’s ear in the second” (Randolph.  “Production delivers ….” CSE.  14 Sept. 1997).

Who would think that a human could convincingly play a dog without benefit of a special costume or walking around on all fours?  In Sylvia, this was done effectively by actress, Nina Edgerton, who “skillfully assumes the various personas of a pooch, albeit one that talks” (Horan.  “Wayside’s ‘Sylvia’ anything ….  NVD.  20 Sept. 1997). Horan elaborates,

When Greg brings home the stray, Sylvia, she drives a wedge into the couple’s marriage.  Greg, suffering from a midlife crisis, winds up having a platonic love affair with Sylvia.  He loses interest in his work, balks at going to England with his wife and even considers a divorce.

Horan adds that when “Greg wrestles with giving Sylvia to a suburban family, there were sniffles from people in the balcony at Wayside” (Horan, 20 Sept. 1997).  Sylvia was ably portrayed by the strong cast.  But, “some of the funniest moments of the evening are provided by Steve Gibbons, in his triple roles ….  His mannerisms are masterful and his eyes sparkle with fun” (Willis-Stokes.  “ ‘Sylvia’” a Dog Eat ….”  TWS  19 Sept. 1997). 

Once Bedfull of Foreigners gets rolling, wrote one critic, the play expands into an evening of “miscommunications, confusion and hilarious consequences.” The reviewer adds that “The suspense and hilarity build, and it constantly seems as though something very improper is about to happen onstage.” She concludes, “The plotting is clever, the lines are funny, and the actors keep the froth of tension and teasing simmering“ (Willis-Stokes. “ ‘Bedfull of Foreigners’ Full ….”  TWS.  14 Oct. 1997).  The play “follows in the grand tradition of farce. There is much rushing about and missed connections” (Horan.  “Wayside’s ‘A Bedfull of ….’ ”  NVD. 11 Oct. 1997). This Benny Hill type comedy made for a thoroughly rollicking evening!

The season’s final show, Cedar Creek, by former Artistic Director, Ed Steele, is a story that “is set in the Shenandoah Valley during World War II … when a woman is in charge of her family business and struggles to keep it alive while her husband is away at the war” (McCarty. “Extended Season.”  NVD.  16 Apr. 1997).  However, at the last minute the performance of this story about the Valley’s history was cancelled.  In an interview with Owens, discussing the upcoming of A Christmas Carol, the December show, he states briefly that, “The theater recently canceled its ‘Cedar Creek’ performance due to unexpected cost for theater repairs” (Currie.  “Traditional ‘Carol’ on stage ….”  TSVH.  19 Nov. 1997). Further in the article, there is information about the upcoming Christmas show for which forty children had auditioned for the 10 available parts.  Owens concludes that “Ellie Foust, a 7 year-old Berryville resident, will play Tiny Tim, all eight shows each week [while] the five children’s parts are all double cast” (Currie.  19 Nov. 1997).   

For the ninth consecutive year, the December show was A Christmas Carol.  For 1997, the run was extended to eight performance a week for four weeks.  Owens states that the attraction of the Dickens story is almost like an annual ritual.  He explains: “Most rituals that bring societies together have to do with the retelling of legends. I think that the reminder of its theme, the message of having another change in life, the opportunity for redemption, is something that's important to people. It exists every day and we just forget about it except at Christmas” (Sullivan.  “Every year 3 ghosts ….” NVD.  6 Dec. 1997). 

And on that note, the 1997 season drew to a close.