The Show Must Go On

What do you do when your friend drops a gun right in front of a police officer? It was a Saturday night in late November, and all my friends stood around the unfolding scene, just as terrified as me. Of course, the play’s audience thought it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. Wait, you knew I was talking about Clue, right?

In my junior year, I played Colonel Mustard in my school’s production of the comedy Clue. After months of after-school preparation as a group, we reached the day of our first show. It was a good performance, but also our first and a bit too “nervy.” The second show went spectacularly having jettisoned the jitters of opening night. Riding the high of that performance, we were more than ready for the final performance of our show. Of course, that’s when things always go wrong. I’ve always described that Saturday performance as our FUNNIEST performance – it wouldn’t be our best, but it was the most memorable. Several prop malfunctions and technical issues plagued us that night, but the most memorable part of that night – and in fact, the show as a whole – was how we worked together as a team through even the most show-stopping of malfunctions.

When the police officer enters the mansion and looks around, he observes what is quite obviously a very suspicious situation. Of course, the police officer has no idea that there are three dead bodies hidden from him only by closed doors. In a desperate attempt to cover their tracks, the main characters race across the room and block the doors, arms outstretched in defensive position. As Professor Plum sprinted across the stage to block the study entrance, the revolver prop fell out of his pocket. At the officer’s feet. We all stood in shock for a second trying to process what had just happened, and I could barely contain my laughter at the situation. Then we sprang into action. The officer immediately began peering around Professor Plum’s legs, getting a closer look at what was quite clearly a gun on the floor. Meanwhile, the house guests – myself included – all assumed horrified countenances and continued with our lines. Without the work we had put in together in our rehearsals, we surely would have been much more affected by that error. Because of how we played it off, the scene felt like it fit right in with the comedy of Clue, and we all thought it could have been included in the original script.

Post-Clue, I’ve continued to work with my school’s drama program both in productions and as an officer in the drama club. For my senior year play, we performed a comedic retelling of Pride and Prejudice. Because of trouble getting the entire cast together for rehearsals, we struggled with getting our lines memorized, and we couldn’t effectively run scenes in rehearsal. I thus decided to organize a drama club meeting where the cast of the show could work on lines and get some extra preparation before the next round of rehearsals. I’m so grateful to have a role in the production as a veteran member of our school’s theater program. Where I can participate as a character in the show itself. Where I can help others with my knowledge of the program and my authority as a drama club officer. Where I can organize meetings to help us rehearse.

But I also knew from Clue that even if something went off the rails and we forgot our lines, we’d have each other’s backs, and we’d work through that soft spot together. Just like in Clue, our rehearsals brought us together as a team to persevere through every single scene regardless of what went wrong. Sometimes it takes a dropped gun to bring people together – well, at least for actors on the stage.