On Autophagy, and Rehearsal Thereof...

There is always a point in the rehearsal process where I have to remind myself of why I chose to direct this play. Not because I'm dissuaded of its value, but because I need to return to the initial impulse, the feeling that came over me when I was first introduced to it: the moment that stopped me in my tracks and made me want to spend time creating this world on stage.

The play I'm directing for the Drama League Directorfest 2007, Autophagy, is a new play by a Chicago playwright named Sean Graney. I directed another play of his called En Mortem in 2003 for a company I formerly ran in Chicago called Flush Puppy Productions.

When I first read Autophagy, I felt like I was struck with an anvil. The play compacts a very complex series of events and emotions into 20 minutes that include among other things: an android, the revelation of a life-changing event, live music, violence against a doll, demonstration of an abusive relationship, and an offstage tragedy that changes everything. These things are often hilarious, and they happen so quickly and jarringly that they feel like they're coming out of nowhere. And before one has time to think about it, another event occurs.

The play left me stunned. I was upset, confused, and somehow in complete agreement with what just happened. I knew then that this was a play I wanted to do. It left me with more questions than answers, it made me remember something about my own life, and think about the world in a new way.

As I looked at a run-through of the play in rehearsal the other day, I was terrified that I had gone horribly off-track. The play lacked the excitement that I knew it should have. What had I done wrong?

I went back to the play. I put myself in that place, sitting at my desk, when I read it last summer. I remembered everything: the pace at which I read it, the surprise I felt when each event happened, the arc of the song, and the shock of the end.

What we had done, I realized, was an important part of a rehearsal process: we made the play make sense. The actors and I had worked hard at creating something that, for us, had a through line, linear thought, relationship and understanding. We played out each beat, figuring out how each event triggered the next. But the effect on the audience was no longer jarring and hilarious. The play should always be one step ahead of the audience, leaving them surprised and delighted by each new and strange moment, but instead the audience was right there with the characters, following the linear progression.

Now the actors and I know why everything happens in the order in which it does, and now all we need to do is not show each of those steps to the audience. In the next few rehearsals we will tighten the gaps, speed it up, and because of the foundation we have laid in the past week, this will be simple for us. With some adjustments we will bring the play back to the excitement of that first read, but with the depth of the investigative work we have done to get there.

-Joanie Schultz