Well, I guess there is a limit to what I can share online.
That was the opening sentence of today’s blog that I wrote in my head earlier today. I was dealing with a sensitive professional matter that I couldn’t speak about publicly. But now, 12 hours later, the whole thing has blown up, and the information is no longer classified.
And thank god, because I could really use the space to vent. So, if you’re reading, buckle up. It’s going to be a doozy.
As I mentioned before, I found myself producing a play that I was only meant to be acting in. Invested in the success of the show, I offered to help with fundraising and marketing, which led to a litany of meetings and tasks piled onto my plate. I promised myself that after the final curtain, I would truly take a step back from production and focus on making art, but I know damn well that the two go hand in hand and there’s really no escaping either component.
The thing about me, a blessing and a curse, is that I take my work very seriously. I have a lot of pride in my creations and I give them 100%. I committed myself to this project, and I poured into it tirelessly, perhaps to the point of martyrdom. But it would be worth it, I thought. Because this is my first ever acting debut, I wanted it to be a success. As a consolation, I would be able to add “theater producer” to my resume.
It was a bargain I consciously made and felt proud of… until last Friday. That was the day that the play's executive producer and main character informed me that her work visa is in emergency status and she may not be allowed in the country during our show dates.
The alarms started sounding in my head immediately, but my face looked like cool glass with only the slight ripple of a passing swan. Or so I’d like to think it did. I asked calmly if we should find an understudy for the part, but I was brushed off as the conversation deviated from the bottom line and found its way to emotionally-driven antidotes. Still, I kept the risk in the back of my mind, and as I tossed and turned in my sleep that night, I vowed to myself that I would bring it up at our production meeting the following morning.
The play director, the production assistant, and myself unanimously agreed that it was in everyone’s best interest to find an understudy for our main character. It was not an easy conversation, because the EP was defensive and resistant to the idea of giving up her role. She assured us that the likelihood of her being banned from the country was slim, though not impossible, and stated that if she wasn’t able to perform, the show would be “pushed to a later date” which in my mind, is the same as being canceled for good.
She cited that she was the primary financier for this project, and that since putting on the show was her idea, she had the sole right to pull the plug on the whole thing if things didn’t go her way. While that is all technically true, she failed to consider the thousands of dollars worth of donations that myself and others had collected toward the project through our personal network, the nonprofit organization who partnered with us in order to facilitate those donations, tickets we've already sold (some to out-of-town guests who plan to fly in) and countless hours of unpaid labor from dedicated cast members and our production team.
We collectively reminded her how much was at stake, and that none of this would be possible without the 20 other people involved in this endeavor, who had put their energy and faith into us. At the end of the meeting, she reluctantly agreed that we could enroll an understudy, who happened to be someone who was already working closely with the cast. I felt relieved… for a while.
On Sunday night, each member of the production team received an email from the EP expressing her disdain for this decision and made it clear that she reserves the right to cancel the show at her own discretion. She used the phrase “Executive Producer” six different times throughout the letter, clearly eager to assert herself as the one in charge. To that end, I informed her that I could no longer participate as a producer under such uncertain circumstances, especially on the fundraising front.
No one heard from her until about four hours ago, when she sent a mass email to the entire cast and crew saying that the show was being “rescheduled” while she awaits visa approval which is absolute horse shit because who knows what her immigration status will ultimately be and which actors would be willing or available to participate without pay at a random, unforeseen date, especially now that she has breached their trust?
Several of the cast members pleaded with her along with myself and the director, to allow us to continue the show with an understudy. We generously offered to buy her out of the debt she had collected during the production process (roughly $4,000)... while still granting her an EP credit... and running an extension of the show with her as the main character after her visa approval. But she refused.
She didn’t give a damn about non-refundable tickets, airfare, and donations that people had asked of their friends and families. She didn’t respect the valuable time we spent building websites, designing promotional content, memorizing lines, and attending rehearsals, some of which were held at cast members' homes. She didn’t care about the embarrassment that we would all face, especially the director, advertising a false production. She was so determined to be the star that she ran everyone else into the ground.
The argument could be made that since it was her project, she should do it her way or not at all. But mark my words, she was not capable of pulling it off herself. The work that the director, myself, and others put into this show is what brought it to life, and none of this would have been possible without us.
Not only that, she has burned bridges with everyone involved, so if she wants to put this on in the future, she'll have to find a new director, a new coproducer, new donors, and new actors. I would bet my cat's life she will not achieve that goal in her lifetime. So, what did she gain by this decision other than pissing off her peers and sinking thousands of dollars?
It's worth noting that I met this person in my acting class, and this was her first-ever production, also. I thought we would grow together, but instead, all we did is crush the spirits of 20 people because of her selfish, stubborn decision and legal negligence. Is there anything I should have done differently to avoid this outcome?
I’ve gone through waves of frustration over the last couple of days, but mostly, I’ve come to a resting place of peace on the matter. It is truly just amazing to behold how some people will entirely sabotage themselves and those around them in order to persevere their own ego. But I guess that's show biz, huh?
I could go on about why this is so wrong, but I don’t need to argue my case to anyone with half a conscience. I am putting this to bed for now and take with me the valuable lessons that I've gained through this process.
And who knows… I may just have something up my sleeve ;)
Ttyt,
Hannah