Everybody Needs a Plot by Warren Bull

Image from Wikimedia Commons

 Everybody Needs a Plot: By Warren Bull

One of the things that sells tickets for professional wrestling is the storyline. Wrestlers are incredible athletes who perform stunts and gymnastic moves that require strength, timing, and balance. But their genuine skill is less effective at the box office than a moving storyline that engages the audience with larger-than-life, but memorable characters.

At an event that featured both men, a 19-year-old boxer then named Cassius Clay met Gorgeous George (a nickname he acquired from his mother-in-law.) The 46-year-old professional wrestler had an ordinary physique but he attracted most of the 15,000 people who came. They wanted to see Gorgeous George get his comeuppance. 

During the event the wrestler announced, if he lost (to his opponent called Classy Freddie Blassie), “I’ll crawl across the ring and cut my [long dyed blond] hair off! But that’s not gonna’ happen because I’m the greatest wrestler in the world.” After the match. George told Clay. “A lot of people will pay to see someone shut your mouth. So, keep on bragging, keep on sassing and always be outrageous.”  

Clay, who later changed his name to Mohammad Ali, became a great character as well as a great boxer.  

Wrestling promoter and ring performer Vince McMahan employed scriptwriters and developed a number of extended scenarios that filled the seats, sold tickets at arenas and pay-for-view events, and kept people talking for years. When attractive Alaska Governor, Sarah Palin was a candidate for Vice President, a look-alike wrestler appeared who was always referred to as “The Governor.” Shannon Spruill who wrestled as “Daffney” parodied the candidate. She convinced other women wrestlers to tone down their makeup and look less glamorous so that men would take them more seriously. Her efforts mirrored some of the news commentaries that focused on Palin’s appearance as if that was the most important thing about her. Some of the wrestler’s statements closely resembled actual statements by the candidate. The whole presentation verged on political satire.

Curtis Wright who wrestled as “The Godfather” entered the ring surrounded by women in skimpy costumes, often recruited from local strip clubs, called “hos.” At one point, The Godfather “reformed” and appeared as a self-righteous religious bigot. The character change included more than a little social commentary.

I admit these examples were not the usual rivalry, betrayal, and “bad blood” themes of professional wrestling. But, if only by chance, sometimes the plots had a surprising level of complexity. Wrestlers with the best storylines were able to continue to perform well past their physical prime.

Plotting not Plodding by Warren Bull

Plotting not Plodding by Warren Bull

Image by Jesse Ramirez on Upsplash

I plan to attend a general audition, fondly known as a “cattle call,” which will allow many singers and actors to strut their stuff to several theater companies at the same time. To ready myself for the event I joined Portland Area Theater Association. I need to have a “headshot” and a resume that fits specific requirements.  The theater organization put out the notice below:

Audition Requirements – Read Carefully

Each actor will have 2 MINUTES to perform up to 2 contrasting contemporary pieces. Alternatively, you can use your 2 minutes to perform a monologue and a song. 

Your 2 minutes start AFTER you slate.[Slate means you describe the song, the character who sings it ,and show the song is from] If you are singing, you must slate after you give your music to the accompanist

A single chair will be available on the audition stage.

DO NOT bring any hard copies of your headshot or résumé.

DO NOT bring props, costumes or instruments. 

Remember to dress for a job interview!

Your audition time is an appointment – please call or email if you cannot attend. 

See, no sweat. Just chose no more than one hundred and twenty seconds of two contrasting and contemporary songs. And perform them with a pianist who is basically sight-reading, i.e., playing music he or she is looking at for the first time.

Like a television commercial — get in, get out and while in do something that will stand out in a positive way compared to the herd of singers who proceed and follow you.

How?

Think of a story arc presenting the tale of me as a singer.

The first task is the selection. Of all the contemporary musical theater songs, which ones should I choose? That depends on how I am presenting myself. When people who cast parts in shows see me, what kind of character do I want them to see in me? Physically I am an old, fat, balding man.  Vocally I am a baritone. So, for example, if someone is casting Oliver, I don’t want to perform songs sung by the characters of Oliver or Nancy because I will not be considered for those parts no matter how well I sing. However, Fagin fits my appearance and my range.  

The second task is to find contrast. If I sing something upbeat and showy where I can, “chew the scenery” first, then I will want to follow up with something melodic and lyrical perhaps a ballad or a lament. 

An upbeat song I’ve had good results with is Love Potion Number Nine.  That is loud and comedic.  I can start with a four measure introduction and then the lyrics She Jumped down…That chunk of the song allows me to have a comedic, dramatic and overblown ending. 

I have a number of ballads in my reparatory but I would like to try something new. Characters that I fit include Arvide Abernathy, Sarah Brown’s grandfather in Guys and Dolls, Fagin, the grandfatherly crook who sends boys out to pick pockets in Oliver, and Henry Higgins, the crusty old bachelor who teaches a Cockney flower girl to speak like a Duchess in My Fair Lady. Abernathy has one song, a lovely simple ballad. Fagin has a couple of comedic songs. Higgins has several songs. I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face inMy Fair Lady has enough information for a story plus an opportunity to show emotional change during the first few bars of the song. I’m going to attempt that. 

Two minutes. One hundred twenty seconds. What could possibly go wrong?