“If you see my mummy, mum’s the word”
M.Butler Photography

Looking back, I can see how other roles prepared me to play Sally Bowles. When I’m not doing comedy, I tend to play emotional roles. Sally has everything though – funny bits, intense drama (including a breakdown), a screaming match, life, death, five songs, skimpy costumes, plenty of kissing, and a ton a lines. Oh, and several quick changes. So I learned to be fearless.

“Mama doesn’t even have an inkling…”
Photo by M.Butler Photography

My first foray into breaking down on stage was when I played Tzeitel in Fiddler on the Roof. I learned that it was best to just jump in – don’t go half way. If you need to cry and beg and plead, just do it. It was more exhilarating as an actor (“Wow! I can do this! And I can make other people cry too. This is great!”) and easier to do it 100% than to work up to it. No fear. Go for it.

I had another tearful role when I played Miss Edith Evans on the Titanic in the opera La Roche. (The real Edith Evans gave up her seat on a lifeboat.) She sings a prayer in counterpoint to the rest of the terrified passengers as the ship goes down.

In BK Productions’ White Christmas, I got used to being a bit flirtier on stage. I was in the dance ensemble, but any dancer will tell you that you’ve got to sell it. So I did. Then when I was cast in WC as Rhoda (a star chorus girl – not the brightest) in the production at The Holly, there was even more strutting involved in tinier and tighter costumes. As it turns out, that was the first of three slutty dancer roles in a row: Rhoda, Val, and Sally…though Sally doesn’t dance much. (She does other things though…Sally ‘n’ Max, sittin’ in a tree…)

“What the hell is this?!”
Photo by M.Butler Photography

Playing Val in A Chorus Line was intimidating to say the least. I consider myself an actor/singer/dancer, so doing a dance-heavy show in a leotard and tights was enormously scary. And because that’s not bad enough, I had to strut (again!) and sing a song (“Dance 10, Looks 3”) about how great I look and that’s why I get hired…I did it, but it was a challenge. I could see the borders of my comfort zone way off in the distance.

By the time I got cast as Sally, I’d spent more time chillin’ in a leo and tights than I ever expected to in my whole life. I knew the costumes for Cabaret were going to be revealing, but I wasn’t sure of the extent. Mere weeks before opening, I saw the sketch for the “Mein Herr” costume…and there wasn’t a lot of, um, costume involved. Whoa. I was terrified of fittings. I’m (not) wearing what on stage?!

KitKat Klub

Yet when we had the costume parade, I was fine. I surprised myself. Sally doesn’t care, and I’d buried myself enough in the character that not only did I not have a panic attack, but I was able to assume my Sally attitude and be like, “Yep. Here I am: bra and lacy boyshorts and some tie thing, a bustle, fishnets, and garters.” Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be in a Fosse show. (In fact, both Cabaret and A Chorus Line were on my “shows I’ll never get cast in” list. I guess life is funny that way. What’s next? Chicago?)

After a run-thru, I realized the change from “Don’t Tell Mama” to “Mein Herr” was so quick that there was no choice but to change onstage. (It’s a scene set in a dressing room, after all.) Sally is trying to seduce Cliff anyway; it makes perfect sense to advertise a bit.

“Happy New Year, Darling!”
Photo by M.Butler Photography

So when I took off the babydoll top and stood there defiantly in a bra and lacy pants, staring upstage at an adorably cringing Cliff Bradshaw before adding the rest of my costume, I was Sally – and I was fearless.

That was another thing Cabaret did for many of us in the cast. Nervous about your costume or what you’re doing on stage? There is no choice but to get over it. Thankfully, it was a safe space, so we could. Comfort zone? What is that? We left that place behind ages ago. That is another peculiarity of the show. It requires everyone to push the envelope in some way, and we bonded and grew into a family because of it.

Hans, Texas, Fritzie, Frenchie, and Sally

When it was time to run the show in full costume, I channeled all of my smirking Sally attitude and strode on for the opening of “Mein Herr.” And, commanding a stage as Sally Bowles, I had fun.

Mein Herr – Photo by M.Butler Photography