The art of backstage archery

An arrow protruded from my chest in Deathtrap, as I came tumbling down the stairs and fell at the feet of actor John Sayles, while he was still clutching the bow. A dramatic scene, made even more so with thunder and lightning.
But how was an arrow able to protrude from me, without actually piercing my skinny little chest? You may well ask.
Fellow actor Chrissy Russell fashioned a cup on a belt, tied around my chest under the jacket I was wearing. When going offstage, Chrissy helped me on with the jacket, already stained with fake blood. Then she took a shortened arrow and stuck it through the already drilled hole in the jacket, ensuring the end was secure in the cup, so it did not fall out.
Just as well for us, the arrow did not fall out as I made my dramatic falling entrance. Instead, I fell at John's feet looking for all the world like a dead playwright.

End of the road for villain

No more arrow-heads protruding from my chest. No more rising from the grave. No more blood dripping down my neck. It's a wrap on the Samford set of Deathtrap. After six performances, I have said goodbye to my most challenging role to date, that of Clifford Anderson.
For those who did not get to see Deathtrap, it was a black comedy and thriller rolled into one, with plenty of blood, violence and witty threats to keep audiences laughing and squirming. And I loved every minute of it!
I played a young playwright who sends his first play to older and established playwright Sidney Bruhl for feedback. The older playwright has a massive case of writer's block. He jokes with his wife Myra that he might kill Clifford and claim the play as his own. And that is what he does, using a garotte. Then Clifford comes back from the grave, all covered in blood and dirt, to beat Sidney to a pulp. Myra is a witness to the beating. When Clifford turns on her in his most menacing way, she has a heart attack and dies.
This is when the fun really starts. As soon as Clifford confirms Myra is dead, Sidney gets up from his fake beating. The audience realises the two playwrights had planned the whole thing, hoping Myra would have a heart attack. And all that happens in the first act.
I won't continue the tales of woe that follow, but say just this: the play was very demanding. The timing of lines and actions had to be spot-on. I had to struggle with principal actor John Sayles in the strangling scene, as well as later on during the twist in the tail. I had to fall three times, resulting in plenty of bruises. I also had to built up a believable character, one who went from a seemingly innocent young playwright to a calculating bastard who would stop at nothing for money and fame.
Having said all that, it was a great opportunity and loved every second of it. Nailing the performances was such a thrill.
For now, though, I am happy to let the bruises heal and enjoy not having to learn lines every night. Goodbye, Clifford...

Ritually speaking

Theatre is one place where rituals and superstitions reign supreme. Forget tennis players having to bounce the ball three times before a serve. Thespians are a far weirder lot.
I'll start with a few examples. One actor I have worked with gives fellow thespians a match just before curtain up on opening night and says ''touch wood''. A male actor I know gives all the females on the cast a red rose ahead of curtain up, but only if he is the lead in the production. Another male actor has to drink a red drink before each show and becomes quite hysterical if he forgets to bring it.
Then there are the actors who won't talk to people backstage before curtain up because they have to get into character. One would withdraw even before each rehearsal so she could find her ''emotional obligation''. Yet another would crack jokes and bring us all to tears of laughter just before we were due to go on, as a way of distracting himself from thoughts of the job at hand.
I know of seasoned actors who can't eat before a production because of nerves and other still who can't drink for fear of having to use the toilet while waiting backstage.
One actor applies make-up at home, though I think this could have something to do with convenience, rather than superstition.
So, what are my rituals and superstitions? I go over my script once backstage before going on stage to keep the lines fresh. But only once. I don't want to overdo it and create panic in that little brain of mine. Otherwise, it's all fine. No red drink. No red roses. No skipped meals. Just showing up is just about ritual enough for me...

Smelling of roses

A second critic has written a review about one of my plays and again I come up smelling of roses. Hooray to Ray Swenson. This is what he had to say about my role in Deathtrap, playing at Samford until April 10:

De Wit plays his part with gusto and between (de Wit and fellow actor John Sayles) they have the audience changing quickly form raucous laughter to deadly silence.

I could write more, but that would give away the plot. So come and see it!

All for my art

Bruises are liberally sprinkled across my legs and arms. My role as playwright Clifford Anderson in the Ira Levin thriller Deathtrap is a challenging one, with plenty of lines to learn and actions to remember. But it was only last week that I realised just how much of the action would cause pain and bruising! I can't say too much about what causes the bruising, because that would be giving away too much to audiences. But let me tell you this: I am bruised and battered for my art. In fact, I will do almost anything for my art, except take my clothes off. The world is breathing a sigh of relief at that news!

Just don't look down

Who needs a safety net? Actors in amateur productions don't. They don't have understudies for emergencies. They just have to be there, night after night, so the show can go on. But what happens, you may well ask, if there is an emergency? Well, I am finding out!
The first time, it was during Post Horn Gallop at Samford last year. An actor had a very bad migraine and could not even lift her head off the pillow. The director knew a woman who had played the part years earlier and she stepped in. Her role was one of a tourist guide, so her holding a clipboard and referring to it was not out of character. Of course, she had the script on stage! Yet the audience didn't even realise. What a trooper!
The second time was during the most recent play, The Hollow. But it was during the later stages of rehearsals. An actor became very ill and had to pull out. I replaced him, taking on a more major role. A new actor was found to take on my somewhat smaller role. The new guy was a seasoned actor and took no time making the role his own - and won quite a bit of audience admiration in the process.
Now we come to the third time. We are in the early stages of rehearsing for Deathtrap. The actor due to play the main role has had to withdraw because of serious illness. Another actor has been found - one I have previously played opposite in Black Coffee. Given that we are in the early stages of rehearsals, I don't see this as a problem.
But there is a bigger issue here: should there be understudies? Well, it's tough. I wouldn't want to be an understudy. It means learning lines and probably not getting so much as one chance to appear on the stage - even though you work as hard as the guy getting all the applause at curtain call! Or is this saying something about the size of my ego?
Anyway, this is where I skip to the last of my thoughts (my brain can only have so many at once). Things come in threes and I have had my three emergencies. I am not jinxed. Just things happening as they should, in threes. The reason these emergencies have been so deftly handled is that people in amateur theatre are so damned resourceful and practical. I hope it rubs off on me! Meanwhile, it's back on the highwire without a safety net for me...

Trapped again

It has been about a month and almost two weeks, so it was high time to get back on the horse, so to speak. I am doing that, proverbially, with casting in a play called Deathtrap. I will play Clifford Anderson, a young and (obviously!) good-looking playwright with a hit script on his hands. He is summonsed to a legendary playwright's house and offered a chance to work with him to improve the script. Or is he about to be killed, so the legendary one can steal the work and claim it as his own? You will have to come and find out at Samford in March. More details to come...

Murder, she wrote

It appears I have received a rave review. Just one, but I'll take it. This is what Kellie Scott at aussietheatre.com.au had to say about my performance in the Hollow, staged at Hamilton in November:

Erik de Wit as John Cristow was a charm as the classic ladies man. His foolish attitude was persuasive and I particularly commend his facial expression during death - hysterical.

I must admit, Kellie is not an Agatha Christie fan and did not say wonderful things about the storyline, but liked the acting, set and costumes. Well, it's as much as we can do: present a story with good acting, projection, movement on stage and good set, lighting, costume and the like...