Should I chew the scenery, like Al Pacino in "Scarface," or take the understated path, like Robert De Niro in "The Deer Hunter"?
Later this month, I'll be making my acting debut as President Franklin D. Roosevelt in Hampstead Middle School's presentation of "Annie." Get your tickets now before New York's theater critics grab all the front-row seats.
Last week, as I entered the theater that doubles as my school's cafeteria, I felt an immediate kinship with Jason Robards and Henry Fonda. I wondered if those great actors felt the same rush I did during my first rehearsal as I anticipated my first line. How many different inflections could I give "Merry Christmas"? The possibilities were endless.
To be honest, I've never longed to be the next Richard Burton. I never spent my days waiting tables and taking method-acting classes at night. My route to the stage was much more direct — I was asked, and I said yes.
Several of my current and former students are part of the production, either onstage or behind the scenes. They didn't know I'd be playing FDR until I showed up that day. I'd like to think the expression I saw on their faces was pleasant surprise. But it could have just as easily been mild revulsion.
My colleague, Jen Latham, has been staging these middle school musicals for years. I have a renewed appreciation for the hard work, dedication and patience required to motivate and direct 10- to 14 year-old actors. Not to mention the old guy who apparently has to — gulp —sing. As one of my former students and fellow thespians said, "It's not too late to back out now, Mr. Ed."
There's a lot of standing around in show biz, which gives my mind even more time to race at warp speed. As I nervously pace across the cafeteria floor or twitch on a piano stool, madly trying to memorize my four lines, the kids are being kids — chatting, giggling, comparing costumes and generally messing around.
But then they magically appear when they're supposed to. They enter stage left and exit stage right. They emote and gesticulate like professionals, and this is only an early rehearsal. Talk about your proverbial tough act to follow.
I've taken creative risks in my classroom for my entire teaching career. But it's one thing to be part performance artist as I teach a lesson to a group of sixth-graders. It's quite another thing to take on the role of a famous historic figure in front of a discerning audience.
Let's face it — I'll be happy to survive this endeavor without falling out of my wheelchair.
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John Edmondson is a teacher in Hampstead.
