A FEW GOOD MEMORIES (revised)

My friends, who buy season tickets to everything from the Little Theater of Alexandria to the huge Kennedy Center productions, find it odd that I don’t often join them on their theatrical excursions. Perhaps it’s because I’d prefer to be on or behind the stage, rather than sitting in front of it.

For the first 45 years of my life I wanted to be an actress. But no one encouraged me to pursue my dream, not even my guidance counselor, who had also been my drama coach. It’s not that I didn’t have talent; it’s that the profession is so ruthless.

So, instead of pursuing my dream (which was probably the right thing to do, given my temperament), I bounced around half-heartedly from one profession to another. That journey eventually led me to join the Navy as an officer in 1980, and it has been a big part of my life ever since.

While I didn’t pursue my passion (other than dabbling in amateur theater, performing in choral groups, and taking ballroom dancing lessons), I did develop a keen eye for recognizing talent, both in individuals I worked with and those I observed in various performing arts.

And that is how I came to be hooked on a cult television show on a network geared towards twenty-somethings. I had avoided the show primarily because its two young stars were quite handsome. I figured the network was targeting a young female audience for whom attractiveness was as important or sometimes confused with talent. I had no interest in watching a show solely for the eye-candy.

Then, one night, for reasons I can’t remember, I watched the show, “Supernatural.” I was surprised to find that the scripts were keenly written with plenty of humor, action and subtext. And the handsome performers were actually actors, and not male models. I was particularly impressed with the actor who played the older brother; an actor I’d never heard of before named Jensen Ackles.

In watching him for the past two seasons, he’s flawlessly performed everything they’ve thrown at him: angst, action, horror, humor, and intense drama. I began thinking he might be the most underrated actor in Hollywood.

During his summer hiatus between the show’s second and third seasons, the actor decided to try something he’d never done as a professional actor—perform on stage. In June, a small theater in Fort Worth, Texas, presented a limited run of Aaron Sorkin’s play “A Few Good Men” featuring two television and film actors with North Texas roots in the lead roles.

Lou Diamond Phillips had gone to the University of Texas at Arlington. He’d been doing a lot of theater in the past few years, and had, in fact, performed with this particular theater. He was set to play LtCol Nathan Jessup, the fast-track Marine officer made famous by Jack Nicholson in the movie. Jensen Ackles was from Richardson, Texas, and agreed to play the role of LTJG Daniel Kaffee, the show’s protagonist (or, in layman’s terms “the Tom Cruise role”). He hadn’t been on stage in 11 years, and never as a professional actor.

Initially I shied away from the idea of going to see the play. I’d done something similar a few years earlier, when I went to see Benjamin Bratt in an Off-Broadway play with Juliana Margulies called “Intrigue with Faye.” But that was in New York City, only a short train ride from home. And the weekend included time with a couple other friends who were also seeing the play.

This was different. Fort Worth was much further away. I don’t like to travel and I don’t like to fly. I was afraid I’d spend all this money for play and airline tickets, hotel and car reservations, and then chicken out at the last minute, something I’ve done before.

But, as the date of the play approached, I found I had a knot in my stomach that just would not go away. Here was a chance to see an actor I admire perform not only in person, but wearing the uniform I’d worn for over eight years. How could I pass on this once in a lifetime opportunity? So, the night before the play opened, I went online, bought tickets for two nights, created an Expedia account to make (not all that) cheap plane, car and hotel reservations, and dug through my closet to find something nice to wear.

I also looked for a small clutch to carry with me to the theater. Now, I realize modern theater goers wear anything they want to, with accessories to match. Even at the Kennedy Center, I’ve seen everything from fur coats to torn blue jeans. But while I wasn’t going to wear a cocktail dress, I did want something a little more refined than my usual shoulder bag.

During my ballroom dancing years, I’d bought several cocktail dresses, and various evening bags to go with them. I knew one or two of them would be just perfect. I tore into my closet only to discover I had only 2 or 3. Apparently, in an uncharacteristic moment of organization, I had sent most of them off to Goodwill. One of the handbags I did find was the clutch that went with my Navy Mess Dress uniform.

The Mess Dress uniform is the Navy’s equivalent of the tuxedo. For men, it includes a short-waisted jacket, bow-tie and cummerbund. The women’s version also has the short jacket and cummerbund, and a long, floor length skirt. I’d bought the uniform while stationed in Newport, RI. Although officers of my rank weren’t required to have the uniform, I sang in a chorus which wore Mess Dress for its formal concerts. I decided I’d buy the uniform while I had plenty of opportunities to wear it.

The uniform also had a special purse, a small fabric clutch. It wasn’t particularly pretty, and I don’t believe I ever carried it when I wore the uniform; but it seemed appropriate and a little humorous, that I carry it to a play about Navy officers.

gold separator

In interviews before the play, both lead actors said their biggest challenge was to make the well-known roles their own. (Lou Diamond Phillips even went into a perfect Jack Nicholson imitation saying “Maybe I’ll perform the entire play like this.”) Jensen Ackles said that he’d never had to memorize so many lines and he was quite nervous about being on stage.

The play was nearly sold out. The lobby of the small theater started filling up about one hour prior to the start of the play. I walked over to the bar for a bottle of water, and began chatting with the bartender. I pointed out my rather ugly handbag and told her of its significance. She was quite impressed, in the humorous way I’d intended, and we struck up a delightful conversation.

I was a little disappointed with my seat for the first night. The stage was a semi-circle that protruded out into the audience, sort of like one-half of a theater-in-the-round. I was reasonably close to the stage, but far on the left side. For the first act, much of the action took place at the front of the stage, with the actors’ backs towards me. But even when I couldn’t see their faces, I could tell by the sharp and quick banter and the audience’s reactions that the performances were entertaining, and the play definitely had enthusiasm.

The second act was much better from my vantage point. For the courtroom scenes, the defense’s table was across the stage on an angle facing my side. During the courtroom scenes, when LTJG Kaffee was examining the witnesses, it struck me that this actor who’d not done theater in 11 years commanded the stage. He was so controlled and confident, it seemed like second nature to him. There was one point, near the famous “You can’t handle the truth,” scene, where he stretched out his arm and pointed to the witness stand. I was in the perfect spot to get the full impact of the scene. His stance (enhanced by the gold striping near the cuff of the Service Dress Blue uniform), his body language, his energy and conviction were sheer drama; it nearly stopped my heart.

My seats for the second night were center stage, but further back. I always enjoy watching a play from different sections. It often gives a new perspective on the play. In this case, several scenes in the first act became much more memorable. I caught small, humorous actions I’d missed the first night. And because I could see facial expressions, I was able to enjoy the full impact of the performers’ comedic timing.

The production far exceeded my expectations. I think the highest praise I can give the play is that I found myself wanting to rewatch the movie to catch the few little details I’d missed (you just can’t TiVo live theater); yet I’m hesitant to do so because I don’t want the movie to override my memory of the play, or to have the actors’ performances erased from my mind.

The play received a standing ovation both nights I attended. (In fact, I believe all the performances received standing ovations.) After the cast had taken their bows, they motioned to the audience for silence. The two leads then noted that Wednesday, June 6th had been the anniversary of D-Day. They took a moment to thank all the Service members, the veterans and their families; and then the cast joined the audience with their applause.

I was touched, and I smiled at a coincidence only I knew about. You see, when I’d opened my handbag, that little black fabric clutch, I’d found my small National Defense Service Medal inside. I don’t remember putting it in there, and I have no idea why I did. Whatever the reason, I felt an enormous sense of pride.