Sam Bolen - Swing Time!

 

About two years into a certain global pandemic, I understudied five roles in a big Off-Broadway revival of a musical. The show was amazing. I saw it about 50 times. But what was hard for me was leaving the theater every night, not having done the show. It was disappointing to me and it was making me feel on the outside of it all. There was, of course, always a chance that I could go on. It was the Omicron surge in New York. My best friend called it the season of the understudy. [audience laughter] But for me, every time I got put on standby, I spent hours of that day tense, ready to go on, they turned out to be a false alarm. 

 

And so, when I got a call on a morning at the end of the year telling me to be ready to go on, I didn't think much of it. I just dutifully ran my lines and waited. But then, we got an email from the director, something that was new. And he said to the whole company, “I know there's a lot of confusion and distress about how we make the choice of when to put an understudy on. These are uncharted territories for all of us. We have to make the decision based on what we know right now. Sam, you're on. Have a great show.” 

 

The clarity of this email was like drugs. [audience laughter] I shot off a bunch of texts to my friends telling them that I was on that night, and I raced to theater for my very first put in rehearsal with the cast. And finally, when I walked in the doors of that theater that night, I was the main character. Everything was about making sure that I had a good show that night. And this cast that I had watched from my little understudy corner in the dark for months become a true ensemble, suddenly was surrounding me, and I was a part of it. 

 

And it felt so easy. It felt so good. When it was over, the cast applauded and the stage management dismissed them and said, “Sam, come talk to us.” I was so full of adrenaline, like it was an opening night and I just couldn't wait. I went to talk to stage management and I found them talking in whispers. And then, one of the stage manager called me over and said in a voice like she was telling me someone had died, “I'd like you to sit down.” And she says, “That was a fantastic rehearsal, you know that.” She said she was grateful that she could count on me. But then, she said that the other actor's test results had come back negative, the union had cleared him to go on and he has chosen to perform. “There's nothing we can do. I'm so sorry. I hold it together just long enough to say something really dumb like, “Rules is rules.” [audience laughter] 

 

I gather my things, and I burst through the stage door out onto the street, and I burst into tears and I just walk. As the adrenaline is draining out of my body, I think, I am not mad at--This show for jerking me around. This is the job. I'm not mad at this actor, because he spent the day in a clinic waiting for COVID results. I am just tired, and I don't know if I belong here. I text my friends to tell them that it was another false alarm. And I think, at least I got that rehearsal. At least I got to be up there with them. They know I can do it and I know I can do it. And then, I get a really sweet text from one of my best friends on the show. He says, “It's my birthday tomorrow. We're having a party in the dressing room. Please come and hang out with us after the show.” 

 

I'm not about to miss a party. [audience laughter] So, I go, and it's warm and everyone is full of sympathy for my day. This other actor apologizes to me and we hug it out. It's really nice, but I just still feel garbage. And then, we notice people are starting to disappear, but their stuff is still here, and we realize they're slowly sneaking into the theater, something that we had all never done before. And so, we follow them. When we walk in, it's dark and lit only by the ghost light. The ceilings are tall, but now they look like a cathedral ceiling. And it's quiet, a quiet that audiences never get to hear. It's magic. 

 

And then, the birthday boy says to one of the seasoned members of the cast, “What I want for my birthday more than anything else is for you to sing us a song right now. But here's the thing. I want you to give it 100%. I want you to give it a full go.” And he says, “No, no, no, no, no.” “But okay, okay. Finally, for your birthday. All right, I'll do it.” And so, we all get up on the stage and sit together and holding each other. We look up at him in his sweatpants and stocking feet on this stage, and he closes his eyes and he sings, “For the first time in my life, I am not outside the moment.” The walls of this theater know exactly what to do with this voice. 

 

The sound lifts up and takes us with it. And suddenly, we're all just theater kids again as this song fills the room. And for the second time that night, I'm crying. But this time, it's because I know I am a part of this, and I have been the whole time and I just couldn't see it. When it's over, we erupt in applause and then we do my favorite thing in the world, which is we linger. [audience laughter] It's impossible to leave this theater. I stay, and I stay and I stay in this theater that hours ago, I had fled. I thought it was rejecting me. And here, it was just holding me tight. 

 

Listen, the whole rest of the run, I never went on. But that night, as I left the stage door for the final time, I thought about the day and everything that had happened. I said out loud to the early morning air on the last day of the year that this, without a doubt, will always be one of the greatest days of my entire career. Thank you.