I often feel empathy for what an actor goes through on stage. This was the first time I can remember feeling horrible for what an actor was going through backstage.
The Saturday, Feb. 5th performance of “Murder for Two” at Swift Creek Mill started off pretty much as expected. As director Tom Width mentions in his curtain speech, the first few minutes are a bit odd: an extended bit of wordless stage business between the production’s two actors, Mark Schenfisch and Emily Berg-Poff Dandridge. Still, the actors moved through it briskly and settled quickly into the farcical murder plot that propels the show. Dandridge plays no fewer than 9 characters, all suspects in the killing of a famous author at his surprise birthday party, while Schenfisch plays Officer Marcus Moscowicz who takes it upon himself to solve the crime.
About 10 minutes into the main body of the show, Dandridge exited stage left in the middle of a scene. The show contains plenty of quick comings and goings so it didn’t seem odd. Schenfisch continued with some dialogue and, within a moment or two, Dandridge was back, flamboyantly portraying the dead author’s wife, complete with a southern drawl and a limp. Somewhere along the way, Schenfisch was joined by another character…but not another actor: his fellow officer, Lou, was represented by muted-trumpet “whah whah” sound effects similar to the adults in Charlie Brown cartoons.
Then, about 5 minutes later, Dandridge popped off stage again, only this time a bit more abruptly. Schenfisch stuttered a bit and started ad-libbing some tenuous lines. An amazingly quick-thinking tech person in the sound booth started responding to the ad-libs with impromptu “whah whahs” but the awkwardness was palpable.
Within a minute or two, Width was back on stage saying the show was going to have to pause. Someone behind me asked, “Is this part of the show?” Width explained: Dandridge wasn’t feeling well. As more murmurs started to rise, an audience-member asked “Is it COVID?” a question that Width was quick to rebut by outlining the testing protocols in place for the actors. It was probably something she ate or a stomach bug, he said, an answer that, given that the Mill is a dinner theater, had a couple patrons murmuring a bit more pointedly.
I know Emily a little: she was an amazing teacher for a dance program my son performed in for several years. I know her enough to be certain that she was doing everything she possibly could do to make it through the show and that her body was rebelling. Consummate professional that she is, I’m sure her sense of responsibility and “show must go on” attitude was compelling her to the stage even as her sick stomach was driving her back into the bathroom.
On stage, Schenfisch was demonstrating a charm completely consistent with his character in the show, settling behind the piano to pull a solid rendition of “Fur Elise” out of his memory banks. After he was done, Width was back out with a rope and a pair of scissors, asking for volunteers for a magic trick that thoroughly delighted the crowd.
Then Schenfisch was back, this time with a full-throated rendition of Sara Bareilles’s “Love Song,” which I appreciated as much for the reminder of this great song’s existence as I was for his committed delivery and solid piano accompaniment (again, pulled impromptu from memory).
And here’s where I swooned because theater people are amazing. The standard joke/complaint I’ve heard from thespians over the years involves a patron approaching them and asking “How do you remember all of those lines?” Not to downplay that very important skill but prodigious memorization only scratches the surface of most theater performers’ skills.
Schenfisch was reinforcing a reality many casual fans may not be aware of: Most successful people in the theater are double-threats, if not triple, quadruple, or more. “Murder for Two,” with both actors singing and playing piano, was already an obvious showcase for this but, with his improvisation and quick-thinking, not to mention his musical direction of the show, Schenfisch bolded and underlined his multiple capabilities.
As most people reading this know, Width is a director, actor, writer, set designer, and magician, just to name a few of his obvious talents, and he does all of these things at a very accomplished, professional level.
My impression is that people look at someone like a professional athlete, for instance, recognizing that they put in hours honing their skills, running, lifting weights, working with trainers, getting guidance from coaches, etc. That kind of dedication can be obvious in an athlete: it shows up in their physique and in their ability to perform physically in a way others can’t. Even though the interruption of the performance was unfortunate, both Schenfisch and Width were given opportunities to flex for the crowd. The crowd was clearly impressed.
Eventually, the Mill’s managing director showed up to make it official: the performance would not continue. Even though I didn’t see the show I expected, I ended up just as happy to witness one of those wonderfully weird events that only happen with live theater (and that the Artsies spent a whole awards program highlighting back in 2020).
Luckily, I was able to drag my lovely wife out the following week to see “Murder for Two: Stomach bug-free edition.” And you want to talk quadruple threats? Dandridge is a revelation in her role. In the abbreviated edition of the show, I only saw her portray maybe 4-5 characters – impressive enough, even when brief. In the full show, by the time she gets around to scampering around on her knees to depict three distinct members of a boy’s choir, I was wondering how she could possibly have any more accents or body-language characterizations up her sleeve. Sure enough, there was still more to come.
And while Dandridge deserves heaps of praise for this performance, there is wizardry in how Width has helped her define her characters and then reinforced some of the transitions with clever staging. Something as simple as having Dandridge pass behind Schenfisch on stage while switching characters proves incredibly effective.
By the way, I exchanged messages with Emily and she was fine a day or two after the interrupted performance. I didn’t get details on what ailed her but, in the aftermath, I expect she was mostly feeling embarrassed. She needn’t be: patrons at that performance got a singular treat that may end up being more memorable than the full show. I’ll never forget Barksdale’s “Souvenir” back in 2009; it was a great production but the specific performance I saw was bizarro-world unique.
This is not a review so I’ll not say much else about “Murder for Two” (I’d suggest checking out Julinda’s or Claire’s instead). I will say: I’m not typically a fan of farce but this production ends up being a snappy good time, thanks to the talents of Schenfisch, Dandridge and Width (his set design being yet another stand-out). It’s a show I typically wouldn’t enjoy seeing once. I’m distinctly happy to have seen it – and loved it – approximately 1.25 times.
