Over Exposure
19
Premiere
FRAN WAS JOINING several others preparing for the premiere with a spa day in Hollywood, where they would not have far to go for the limos to circle from the spa to the theater at Hollywood and Vine. A limo would pick up an actress or actor or couple at the spa and then drive them to the theater for their walk on the red carpet, then cycle back for another passenger. Not all, of course. Most were arriving in their own limos and a lot of the crew would simply be walking up to the entrance and presenting their passes.
I thought a Hollywood premiere was the opening of a new movie. Turns out that it isn’t that at all. It’s an opportunity for the glamour set in Hollywood to make an appearance and make appreciative noises in the audience while critics sit there and prepare reviews that will run before the movie actually opens a couple of days later, probably in a different theater altogether. No one was actually buying a ticket for this event.
But I got a phone call just a few minutes after Fran left instructing me to bring the essentials and meet the limo downstairs in fifteen minutes. We were going to get ready at Adrienne’s apartment. I’d screwed Fran again in the morning, but we didn’t have time for breakfast before she had to leave for the spa, so I was getting hungry. Adrienne assured me that everything was ready at her apartment.
When I got there, Samuel greeted me and told me breakfast had just arrived. I got to Adrienne’s apartment and found an elegant buffet set in her small dining room, attended by a chef who served us—starting with a wonderful cup of coffee.
“How does today work?” I asked.
“The showing is at five o’clock,” Adrienne said. “We are scheduled to arrive at four-thirty for our walk on the red carpet.”
“Red carpet? For real?” I asked.
“For real, Master. You will wear your tuxedo and Miss Anna and I will be in evening gowns. However, prior to that time, we have appointments for hair, makeup, and massages.”
“So, we need to go out and then come back?” I asked.
“Oh no, Master. The masseuse will be here in half an hour. She will pamper us with scented oils, baths, and the most exquisite massage you have ever experienced. After she has finished with the three of us, about one o’clock, we’ll have the hairdressers and barber here to get us shaved, waxed, and coifed. Then our dresser will arrive at three-thirty to get us into our formals and make sure everything is perfect before the limo gets here at four o’clock. The driver is on a schedule with an exact route and a radio that will tell him when to approach the theater. At four-thirty, he will pull up and a doorman will open the limo door.”
“At that time,” I interrupted, “I will step out of the limo and help each of you out. You are not to attempt to get out of the limo until I have effectively blocked anyone from seeing you trying to stand in your high heels and formal gowns as you get out of the car.”
“Master! You will do that for us?”
“Absolutely. It is one of the things I learned from the guy who rented me a tux in Huntertown a few years ago,” I said.
“That’s my man,” Anna said. “I love you so much. Let’s just enjoy the day and the experience our pet has arranged for us.”
So, we did. I’d never had a professional massage before. I found it unbelievably relaxing. I even fell asleep on the table. When we weren’t being pampered by a masseuse or hairdressers, we were being fed tidbits from the chef, who kept different foods appearing for us all day long.
And when we were ready to go downstairs to our waiting limo at five minutes till four, we were three Hollywood elite going out for a night on the town, including a movie premiere.
Anna wore a beautiful gown by some designer I’d never heard of. It left her arms bare, but the neckline was a modest cap to a form-fitting bust. The skirt of the dress was also form-fitting and slit up the front of her left leg to about mid-thigh. The pale blue suited her skin and makeup. Of course, the beautician had matched her makeup, nails, and hair to the gown.
Adrienne, however, wore an off-the-shoulder sleeveless gown of bright red. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back but she had an abundance of decolletage and her skirt was slit up one side almost to her waist! I was worried that she would show Anna up in the way she looked. Adrienne was a model!
“Doesn’t our pet look wonderful?” Anna said. “I told her that she must show that her master and mistress have the best taste of anyone at the premiere.”
“I worry more that people will question her taste when they see us next to her,” I laughed.
“Oh, there is no fear they will misunderstand,” Anna said.
She produced Fifi’s collar and fastened it around her neck as Fifi beamed at us. She looked so happy I almost cried. Then Anna really shocked me. She fastened a silver chain to the collar and handed me the end of it.
“I’ll take your arm, but you need to keep hold of Fifi’s leash. We don’t want her getting lost,” Anna said.
“Fifi? Is this okay when we are going out in public like this?”
“Master and Mistress, you make Fifi so happy and so proud to belong to you!”
I kissed her, careful not to smudge her matching red lipstick and we went down to our waiting limo.
We pulled up in front of the theatre and the doorman opened our door. I stepped out and then helped first Anna and then Adrienne out of the limo. We created a bit of a stir. The people on the sidewalk were mostly fans hoping to get a glimpse of their idols as they arrived, and photographers working for newspapers and entertainment magazines. I guess a couple of reporters were shouting questions at some of the actors as they arrived, too. When my ladies and I stepped onto the red carpet, there was a hush.
First, I was escorting two drop-dead gorgeous women. Second, one was on a leash. And third, no one had the foggiest idea who we were.
We smiled and posed and went inside. We were given glasses of champagne and an usher escorted us to our seats. Hollywood events are notorious for not starting on time, but since the theatre had a showing of its regular feature at eight o’clock, the lights went down and the two hour and fifteen-minute film started promptly at five o’clock.
I was really surprised. It was tense right from the beginning. We saw the argument between Sally Jane and her father while, in the background a shadowy figure picked up a rolling pin. You couldn’t tell if it was a cook or an intruder, but you could clearly see the way he tested the rolling pin, tapping it in the palm of his hand. When the film cut to the scene outside the restaurant, you still didn’t know if the person picking up Sally Jane was a bad guy or a good guy. And when the dialog started in the police station, you weren’t sure if someone had been killed or kidnapped.
From that point on, we were all waiting for the murder. Scenes of Joe photographing women and seducing them were interspersed with the FBI agent’s reconstruction of the crime and building a case board as he questioned townspeople, and scenes of Jenny confronting Joe about his affairs. At one point, after Fran had an argument with Joe, you see his demeanor change as he quickly finds and holds a knife behind Jenny’s back. Then the children run in and Joe turns away.
Of course, it is Myrna and Sally Jane who are the main focus as they each develop their relationship with Joe. Myrna is lost in a loveless marriage, attempting to put the best face on it and raise her daughter. Sally Jane is a sneaky brat who has traded sex for a grade in chemistry and went skinny-dipping with half the football team. And has blackmailed Joe into having sex with her after he has photographed her nude.
And finally, there is the big discovery, as the agent discovers the freshly turned earth over the septic tank and Rossi explains that they’d had to have it pumped out. The agent gets a warrant and has it opened to discover not only Rossi’s wife, Myrna, but also his daughter, Sally Jane. Rossi is arrested.
In the police station, the agent talks the case over with the two policemen who called him in. They all agree the evidence against Rossi is overwhelming, and they have nothing on Joe.
As the closing credits run, we see Joe come into his house. He tests the family rolling pin in his hand like he’d done in the opening credits, only this time he is looking across the room at his wife.
The biggest surprise of the night was that the movie was good! After the credits had all rolled and the audience sat in silence a few seconds, someone started applause and then everyone joined in enthusiastically.
After the theater was empty, select guests were invited to Frank’s mansion where we were fed and the liquor started flowing. This time, Anna and I avoided having tasty drinks and had a great time leading Adrienne around and talking to the actors and chief crew.
As soon as we could arrange it, the three of us went back to the hotel and got out of our formal wear and into Adrienne. Uh… bed, I mean. I actually got into both Adrienne and Anna. Then we slept. We left for the airport at nine the next morning and Adrienne promised to ship anything we’d forgotten to us in Chicago.
Anna was floating on her high from the experience of attending a Hollywood premiere and told Ronda and Patricia that no matter what, they had to attend the premiere of the sequel. I still wasn’t sure they’d ever manage a sequel, but I’d picked up a newspaper at the airport and read the review.
This reviewer is torn. I have either witnessed a travesty in the American film industry or a revolution in the art of the cinema. Whichever, Over Exposure heralds a new age of film production. The independent studio, Photosensitive Productions, has top talent to draw upon, headed by award-winning producer Frank Loras. Certainly, managing to corral the directorial skills of Reginald Lombardi, who has directed no less than three Academy Award nominees brought the film to perfect pitch.
But the movie is disturbing. Are we ready for this assault on our intelligence? Are we really so open to new ideas that we will be able to accept a plot in which the villain goes free? There is no happy ending to this thriller. There is perceived child abuse along the order of Polanski’s Lolita. Though we hasten to add that no actual teens were harmed in the production of Over Exposure. Veteran actress Lorna Love has faithfully reprised a role as the adolescent siren seducing an older man, this time as fourteen-year-old Sally Jane. Love says this will be the last time she plays a teen and, indeed, seeing her at the premiere drove all thought of that from the mind.
Leading actor Lyle Patterson may be universally hated after this movie, but not for his acting. His predatory character, Joe Price, chills to the bone as the audience gradually realizes that he is a willing participant in his seduction by Sally Jane. And that he may be contemplating murder long before the teen disappears.
The entire movie is replete with excellent actors, including Jayden Fisher as Sally Jane’s mother, Myrna. Myrna is also one of the many photo models Joe seduces in his studio, and is the original fuel for Sally Jane’s blackmail of Joe.
A highlight of the film is the intense acting of newcomer Fran Carter as Jenny, Joe’s wife. When this woman enters the scene, the camera belongs to her. The long-suffering wife and mother of two dares to confront Joe over his lascivious behavior and we see her enter his mind as a future victim. We are told Miss Carter has already signed a contract for the sequel and only hope she is a survivor. We are thrilled to welcome her to the Hollywood film industry and hope to see much more of her in the future.
And speaking of seeing much more, Over Exposure received a well-deserved R rating from the MPAA. There is an abundance of nudity as Joe poses his models for boudoir photos that end in sex with the photographer. We are thankful, however, that the double murder is not graphically shown, nor is there a graphic sex scene between Joe and the underage Sally Jane.
This reviewer gives Over Exposure four stars, but it remains to be seen if audiences will be as enthusiastic. We believe this is the next step in independent studio production and that this film will go down in history as important in the development of the American film industry.
It was a great review when all things were taken into consideration. The real test, of course, would be Friday night as the picture opened in Huntertown to our own little Midwestern premiere. Anna and I got home on Thursday and were on the road with the family first thing Friday morning.
I was surprised and pleased that Fran and Lyle had consented to walk our own mini red carpet in Huntertown. I would be there with my three girlfriends—Toni would stay with her grandparents. Frank Loras had personally conducted the negotiations with the town of Tenbrook and had made sure that each of the people who had roles as extras in the movie had tickets to the Huntertown premiere, which he also attended.
We got dressed at the hotel in Tenbrook, wearing a suit for me and party dresses for the girls. It was not quite up to the standard of a Hollywood premiere, but we felt it was important to be dressed up. It did a lot for our image when Fran, Lyle, and Frank met us on the red carpet, crediting us for bringing the film location to Tenbrook.
When the seven of us went into the theater, accompanied by Mayor and Mrs. Lechleiter, the rest of the guests were admitted. The movie received a more enthusiastic response from our crowd than from the Hollywood crowd. These folks weren’t afraid to cheer when their character appeared on stage and really let up a ruckus when the truck came roaring through town and crashed into the hay wagon. I’m not sure the whole community understood the implication of a photographer in town who was seducing all the married women he could entice into his studio, or that Joe had gotten away with murder. I think most accepted that Rossi had killed both women.
After the premiere, people gathered outside and talked, congratulating each other, and thanking me for bringing such a profitable production to our town. Frank, Fran, Lyle, the mayor, and my family were invited to the Greek restaurant where we toasted to the success of this and the next movie.
“Wish I could come home with you,” Fran said. “We’re being driven back to Chicago tonight for a midnight flight to New York for tomorrow’s opening there. Jayden and Lorna will meet us there. I’m surprised you aren’t coming.”
“It’s our busiest time, it seems,” I said. “We’re driving back to Chicago tomorrow and then Patricia and I are driving up to Stratford for a week of pre-production photos for the festival. Then we’re back here for Memorial Day and Anna and I will turn around and head back to Stratford. Ronda, Patricia, and little Toni will join us the thirteenth, as soon as Ronda’s quarter ends, and we’ll be in Canada for the rest of the summer, trying to make money in the photography business.”
“How did you ever choose to have a business in Canada? Are you Canadian?” Lyle asked.
“No. We bought the place in Stratford as a backup plan in case I got drafted. I had no intention of going into the military.”
“That’s not very patriotic of you,” Lyle scoffed.
“Mr. Patterson, my husband went to Vietnam,” Patricia said, rounding on him. “He’s buried out in the Tenbrook cemetery. He was drafted and we had a total of two weeks of married life together before he was killed. Nate is raising our little girl as if she were his own. In reality, my husband didn’t even know I was pregnant when he died. Don’t talk to me about the draft and the Vietnam war in the same breath as patriotism. They aren’t even in the same book.”
“You must be very proud of him,” Frank said, unsure of how to respond to the outburst.
“No! I’m very angry that he didn’t put me on the back of his motorcycle and run to Canada. I’m mad that a racist on the draft board rigged the call so he was drafted. And God damn the presidents of the United States who started this stupid war and who keep it fueled with the bodies of young men who could have had a life.”
Patricia pushed her chair back to leave the table. I joined her and Ronda and Anna stood to leave with us.
“Excuse us. Congratulations on the opening,” Anna said. “We are all in agreement with Patricia. It’s a little detail you left out of the movie.”
When we got to the car, Anna got into the driver’s seat with Ronda in front. I sat in back to hold my weeping Patricia. You’d think that after three years, we’d be past this, but you’d think wrong. The wound was always fresh and the pain near the surface.
We spent time with Patricia’s parents and Toni Saturday morning to make sure Toni was happy to be left there for a week. She didn’t get to see her grandparents all that often and knowing she’d get to visit Grandma Kowalski and to Gampa Hart during her visit was enough to keep her excited between visits to Sweet Treats, where Mr. Lewis treated her like a princess.
We got back to Chicago, did some laundry and repacked. Sunday morning, Patricia and I headed for Stratford. We made the full drive in one day since I had appointments for photos starting Monday morning. Patricia reached across the seat split of her little Rambler and put her hand on my leg. That was one thing about the car that I missed. Up until Patricia’s little car, all the cars I’d driven had bench seats in the front and you could sit three across, or one cuddled up to the driver. It seemed like all the cars today had two front seats and some even had a big divider and bucket seats in front. They just weren’t as cozy.
“You know, what I said at dinner was true,” Patricia said when we were nearing the Canada border. We’d talked about all kinds of things so far, but this broke a short silence.
“I agreed with everything you said. So did Ronda and Anna. I kind of started it all by declaring myself a draft resister,” I said.
“Oh, yes. That part. I was talking about the other thing. You’re raising Toni as if she was your own daughter, not just your goddaughter.”
“Is that a problem, honey? Am I overstepping my bounds?”
“Oh, no! Not at all. Nate, you’re the only daddy my little girl has. I want you to be her daddy. You know, she asks, sometimes. ‘Is Unca Nate my daddy?’ And I just say, ‘Yes, honey. Your father died a long time ago, and Uncle Nate is your daddy now.’”
“Patricia, I didn’t know. I love her so much! And I love you.”
“Yes. I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds, as you said. But with or without a piece of paper, you are my husband as much as you are Ronda’s and Anna’s. And you are Toni’s daddy.”
It was hard to drive with tears running from my eyes.
We didn’t bother with anything else when we got to Stratford. We went straight to bed and I loved on Patricia as long as we could both stay awake.
In the morning, we had to get straight over to the theatre. I was taking 35mm slides and specific staged 4x5 color slides. I’d have the Hasselblad loaded with black and white and would be looking for perfect shots to take with it. I’d have to see what came about. Patricia had set everything up with the executive director, so she was my guide.
The directors and stage managers of the different shows were on hand to call the scenes and lighting cues. John, the technical director I’d worked with last summer, was in charge of seeing that the sets were changed to the appropriate shows. This was going to take longer to shoot than it took to perform. We were only shooting two shows over five days.
Of course, Kathleen and Damien were there to meet us. Kathleen had a large role in The Duchess of Malfi and Damien was directing Macbeth and another show at the Avon. The shows were slated to open in two weeks, but were running back-to-back partial dress rehearsals this week.
There was a lot of waiting. The director would run a scene and then halt the action. He’d reset particular scenes that he’d decided he wanted photos of. While I was getting actors in position and freezing them at the point I wanted the shot, the director would be giving notes on absolutely everything. We broke for dinner and then went back into production on Macbeth in the evening, following the same basic pattern. During our dinner break, though, both Judy and Leanne came bursting into the theatre to hug us.
“You would not believe how intense it is in the costume shop!” Judy said. “Damien’s ideas are just phenomenal, but it’s a cast of thousands!”
“You’re kidding,” I said. “How is he getting so many people when the shows are in rep?”
“We’re all taking part,” Leanne said. “Anyone who isn’t operating a switch or running props or assisting with a costume change, or making people up, will be on the stage milling around. God, I’ve missed you this past week. How was the premiere?”
“Seems to be a successful show from what we’ve heard. Adrienne said she’d airmail me the numbers for our opening weekend as soon as she had them,” I said. I glanced at Patricia and she made a note. She’d been hauling around a clipboard beside me and writing down every frame number and actor. She had a bag of used film over one shoulder and a bag of fresh film over the other shoulder.
“And you’re both working on Macbeth?” Patricia asked.
“Shh. You’re not supposed to say the name of the show in the theatre. It’s just ‘the Scottish play.’ Saying the name is bad luck. Like wishing someone good luck instead of saying break a leg,” Judy said.
“Judy’s a little busier than I am,” Leanne said. “I do have some quick makeup changes to do before the crowd appears after dismembering Macbeth. But she has all the costumes for the peasants and police.”
“I don’t remember peasants and police in… that show,” I said.
“One of Damien’s additions,” Judy said. “The man is brilliant! Wait until you see Olivia!”
“I take it he was satisfied that she could do the job,” I laughed.
“Our pictures of her definitely cemented her role. She’s a different person when she walks onto the stage.”
“I can’t wait to see her. Who does he have playing… the male lead?”
“New guy who’s rather young. I guess Damien found him while he and Kathleen were touring England this winter. Name’s Todd Lincoln. It’s part of Damien’s concept to play the two leads as teenagers, as controlled by their lust for each other as by their lust for power.”
“Wow! You really memorized the program notes, didn’t you?” Leanne asked.
“Why make stuff up when he’s already done the work?” Judy asked.
“Well, I’d better get set up for the next rehearsal,” I said. “Speaking of Damien, I see he’s just over there.”
“Good luck. We’ll see you later this week, okay?”
“You bet.”
“Olivia, you look fantastic!” I said when I saw the woman playing Lady Macbeth. Last summer she’d been very reticent about having her photo done and hadn’t agreed until Judy and I came up with a concept that completely disguised her identity, even when she was nude.
“Thank you, Nate,” she said. She really did look like a teenager. I knew she was a younger actor, about Kathleen’s age, I guessed, but she was playing an adolescent that would rival Lorna Love. “If this all goes well, I think I’ll want another photo session this summer. That last one just gave me so much confidence that I’m able to do what’s coming. Not tonight, though. We won’t get that far in rehearsal tonight.”
“I’m looking forward to the whole performance,” I said.
The cast rehearsed the early part of the show, including the confrontation with the witches. They were quite entertaining. It seemed Damien was really going for a young look through the whole cast. These actresses could have been the teens accusing women of being witches in that Salem witch trial play. I remembered photographing an actress playing that role. So, instead of being a bunch of old hags, the witches in the show were no older than the characters of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth.
Overall, I thought the whole concept of slightly older actors and actresses—in their twenties and early thirties—playing parts presented in their teens to be a more radical difference than when younger casts tried to act older. It was refreshing.
“Welcome back to Stratford,” Damien said when we settled in at the café for a late dinner after the rehearsal. “Patricia, it’s nice to have you back with us, keeping Nate organized and on time.”
“Thank you, Damien. It’s a task, but I don’t mind being saddled with it.”
“When is the rest of your crew due to arrive?” Kathleen asked.
“Oh, we’re headed back to Chicago on Saturday, then to Tenbrook for the Memorial Day remembrance,” I said. “Then Anna and I will return in the middle of next week. Patricia and Toni will stay with Ronda until she finishes her classes on the twelfth. Then they’ll be up to join us for the rest of the summer.”
“Too bad they’ll miss the openings. You and Anna will be here, though, right?” Damien asked.
“Absolutely. I wish we could all be here, but our schools have different schedules.”
“Maybe after you and Anna get here, you can schedule another photo session with me. Maybe even Judy and Leanne will want to work on me, if they aren’t buried under the burden of Much Ado About Nothing.
“An Italian Straw Hat might be more difficult to prepare than Much Ado,” Damien added. “It opens only a week later.”
“I can’t believe you can get all those shows up and running in rep in the same space,” Patricia said.
“Oh, we don’t.” Damien said. “Remember we have a second theatre downtown. Straw Hat will open at the Avon. It will close at the end of July and There’s One in Every Marriage will open the sixth of August. That’s the other one I’m directing this year.”
“That doesn’t mean we’ll be finished with new shows at the Festival Theatre, though,” Kathleen said. “Volpone opens there on July 27th. And we’ve got a new stage. We’ve been calling it the third stage, but there’s a move to rename it the Tom Patterson, after the guy who founded the festival with Sir Tyrone Guthrie. The Red Convertible will open there on July 23rd.”
“Which brings us to your performance art,” Damien said. “As soon as you and Anna get here and we have the first two shows up and running, we’ll go over to Third Stage and tour it to plan out your performances with Leanne and possibly Judy. John got such a kick out of setting up and tearing down two sets for you that he wants to be involved in the performance, too. While you and Leanne are painting your models and Judy is getting costumes on them, John and a small crew will erect a set behind you so that when the model is painted, you’ll be ready to photo much like you did Olivia last year.”
“Wow! That will be cool. I really liked working with John on the two we did last summer,” I said. “I honestly don’t know what Leanne has planned. I know we’re planning a performance with Min and one with Shawna. I don’t even know who she has in mind to model for the third piece.”
“There’s a bit of a competition going on among the actresses here,” Kathleen laughed. “After Damien showed the film of you doing the beautiful black woman in your studio, it seems that everyone wanted to do it. It’s too bad you’re only scheduled to do three. They’ll be on Sunday afternoons when there is a music event at the Festival Theatre and will be advertised as ‘adults only.’ The first one will be the 27th of June, then four weeks and eight weeks later.”
“Somehow or another, I feel like I’ve already been caught up in the whirlwind of the festival. I hope Leanne has scheduled time for us to rehearse!” I said.
It was good to get back together with our friends.
It looked like The Duchess of Malfi would be a good, if particularly bloody, show. Here’s a spoiler: Everyone dies. The period costuming and Kathleen’s role were highlights. She plays the young wife of an old Lord who is not averse to fooling around a bit. Like everyone else, she dies—from a poisoned Bible.
I was most interested in the development of the Scottish play and the way Damien had envisioned it. First, there was Olivia’s stunning performance as Lady Macbeth. And I mean visually stunning as well as vocally. In her mad scene—“Out, damned spot, out, I say!”—she is wandering the battlements of the castle in a translucent nightdress. With the lighting the way it was set, you couldn’t actually see the detail, but you could just tell she was naked beneath the thin material. So, this was what Damien wanted her prepared for!
The second point of interest was all done in a long rehearsal on Friday that took both the afternoon and evening, the Malfi cast having the day off. There were over twenty ‘extras’ in the cast for Macbeth, and we went through every scene they were in. By extras, I mean they had no speaking roles. They were listed as poor people, servants, messengers, soldiers, thanes, and apparitions.
They were strikingly made up as milling poor people and something akin to riot police. The costumes seemed a little out of place with the rest of the show as they were more like what we imagine Eastern Bloc laborers and a kind of Gestapo to be. But the key element was that they were present almost throughout the show, changing shape somewhat when soldiers were required or when there was a banquet and people being served food. In the last scene, they come in bearing Macbeth’s head on a pike, their hands and mouths dripping with blood. But they are the same sad, zombie-looking peasants and riot police prodding them out of the way of the new king.
Patricia and I went out to eat after the rehearsal and I looked at the bag full of film rolls I’d taken. We talked quietly, and instead of having dessert, we went home and made love before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
In the morning, I made a stop at Pro Photo Source to drop off all the film I had to send out for color transparency processing. I left all the black and white film in my darkroom for processing when I got back next week. Then Patricia and I hit the road to head back to Chicago.
We barely spent the night in Chicago Saturday before continuing with Ronda and Anna to Tenbrook. We had a happy little girl when she saw her mommy and her family.
“Did you have fun with all your grandmas and grandpas?” Patricia asked the almost three-year-old.
“Yes,” she sighed. I could see a dramatic conclusion coming and expected her to say she didn’t want to leave. What she said was better. “Mommy, I need a ’cation.”
We all broke up laughing.
Monday morning, we were standing at the corner when Billy marched down Main Street with the flag. We fell in right behind his mother. Toni wanted to walk, so she held Patricia’s and my hands as the rest of the town silently walked behind us out to the cemetery. The community spread out through the cemetery to decorate the graves as the five of us knelt beside Tony’s grave.
Patricia told Tony how much his little girl had grown and told Toni about what a good man her father was. Then Toni shocked us all again. She patted the headstone.
“Fadder,” she said clearly. Then she turned and wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me tight as she said, “Daddy.”
There was no way to stop the tears then, for any of us.
We said goodbye to all the grandparents and loaded everyone into the bus. Mom, Dad, and Kat had come into town for the parade and to see us. Jim and Ellie Kowalski and Vanessa were there, so we got to see everyone before we took off. We also got to see Ronda’s family before they headed out for their annual camping trip, and Anna’s family. Then we got in the bus to head back to Chicago. Ronda still had classes on Tuesday.
Anna and I stayed another day in Chicago with Patricia, Toni, and Ronda, then headed out on Wednesday for Canada. We weren’t in quite as big a rush as when I’d driven up with Patricia a week ago, so we decided to stay a night at the Holiday Inn in Windsor. We just relaxed and made love. And when we woke up in the morning, we made love again, then drove the rest of the way into Stratford.
My number one priority was getting the black and white film processed and proofed, and proofing the 4x5 color slides. Friday, I was over at the theatre to show the proofs to the marketing people and have them select what they wanted blown up for their publicity. The color prints they wanted in 12x15 size would be displayed in the lobby for the opening next week. The black and white prints would be sent out with the press kits for publicity and reviews. My weekend was filled with darkroom time, made more pleasant by Anna’s naked presence in it with me.
We went out to That Scottish Café for breakfast Sunday morning and saw many acquaintances. Kathleen and Damien waved us over to sit with them.
“Welcome back to Stratford, Anna,” Kathleen said.
“Thank you, Kathleen. You’re looking terrific! I saw the pictures Nate took.”
“I think he was far more fixated on Olivia,” Damien laughed. “As will be every male in the world.”
“She does come off as sex personified. I think I got some good photos,” I said.
“We got the lighting right, didn’t we? Gil’s a master. You know she’s naked but you can’t actually see it.”
“Why did you insist on her being naked then?” Anna asked.
“I think Nate can tell you,” Damien said. “The human body disappears under the least bit of fabric. He does a lot of draping with thin fabrics over nude models. But if the model is wearing underwear, that stands out. Put even a flesh-colored bra or bloomers on a woman and drape her in the same fabric, and everyone will be able to see her underwear. It’s possible that a body stocking would be undetectable, but they distort the shape. Olivia’s shape is part of what sells the role.”
“Well, as Nate’s mother would say, ‘I’m not the judge of that.’ I just feel bad for how embarrassed she is for something that doesn’t really affect her performance.”
“We all do,” Kathleen said. “I think the only ones who are envious are the three witches. Those girls wanted to do the part stark naked.”
“They’re as near to it as I could manage,” Damien laughed. “They are truly wild women.”
“Isn’t one of those women Greta Ahlquist?” I asked. “I did photos of her last year. Too bad she never got on stage in that role.”
“Oh, she did once.” Kathleen said. “The last week of performance in September the lead mysteriously lost her voice one day and Greta had to do the performance.”
“I’d have to say that’s what got her the role of the witch. Actually, what inspired casting them like the teens in The Crucible.”
“You know that show crossed my mind when I saw them,” I said. “I did a photo shoot a couple of years ago for a young actress who wanted me to reset some of the roles she’d played and had production photos of, but have her nude in the picture instead of in costume. She called it something like ‘the character unveiled,’ I think.”
“If you drop that hint to Greta, I’m sure you’ll have three little witches dancing naked in your studio for you,” Damien said. “In fact, I’d like a picture like that, too.”
We had a nice brunch and then Anna and I returned to the darkroom to keep turning out the photos. It took nearly forty-five minutes to print and develop each 12x15 from the 4x5 slides. I had to be halfway through the process before I could start printing the next image. These were images the theatre wanted as one-of-a-kind posters that could be sold at auction during a fund-raising event. Anna had worked out an ‘at cost’ arrangement with the festival as part of our contribution. In return, we could sell smaller prints to cast members and the audience. None would be larger than 8x10 and the price to the public was set so that people thought the original might be worth waiting for.
Anna was heading to the theatre Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday mornings to take orders from the casts for black and white production photos.
Tuesday evening, Anna and I got dressed up to go to the opening night of Macbeth. Anna had only seen the photos and had not been privy to any of the rehearsals like Patricia and I had been. I’d have to say she was blown away. Once the whole piece came together you saw it for much more than a power-hungry ruler and his conniving wife. Both Macbeth and Lady Macbeth were sympathetic characters and when Macbeth is brought word that his wife is dead, you see a real struggle in him to keep from breaking down in the midst of a battle.
She should have died hereafter.
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
It wasn’t callous, like it could have been. He was truly moved to tears and having to shake himself loose to marshal his troops to battle.
We were invited to a backstage party after the show and congratulated the actors and crew on a great production.
“They said you were here,” Olivia said, appearing beside me. She clutched my arm as if I were a life vest in the ocean. It hurt. “I hate these parties. Especially after they’ve all seen me naked. But I’d be considered more of a bitch than I am if I didn’t attend.” She paused and looked beside me. “Oh, you’re Anna, right? We met last summer when you explained the process and pricing to me. Don’t worry. I’m not after your boyfriend. I just need someone to hang onto.”
“Just don’t hang on so tight you hurt his arm,” Anna laughed. “You were truly spectacular tonight, Olivia. Congratulations on another great show.”
“Damien had to practically drive me insane to get me to act it. I didn’t want to do the nude thing, you know. But he was right. It was the right way to do the scene. Then to bed to wait for my husband who never arrives.”
“To be forgotten by Shakespeare,” I said. “It wasn’t until Malcolm’s final speech that he mentions that Lady Macbeth took her own life.”
“And Damien nearly cut the line,” she said. “The curse of women in Shakespeare’s time.”
The next night, we had much the same experience with The Duchess of Malfi. We got dressed up, attended the bloody play, and went backstage for the opening party. This time, Kathleen caught up with us and wrapped an arm around me, seeking assurances from both Anna and me that she’d done a credible job in her role—which were not difficult to give. She was fantastic. And it was shown that Webster was no kinder to women than Shakespeare.
“You know what I’d like to see?” Anna said as we talked to Kathleen. “I’d like to see someone cast a whole Shakespearean play in role reversal with women playing all the men’s roles and men playing the women. And not as cross-dressers. As women performing the leading action. And men cast as weak and sniveling dits who all get killed because they cannot defend themselves.”
“Oh, my!” Kathleen said. “Um… Excuse me. We need to… I need to… I’ll see you later.” She turned and rushed across the room calling, “Damien! Damien!”
Anna and I finally got home and just made love and stayed in bed until noon the next morning.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
