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Waiting in the wings
Michelle takes the stage at last - in a rehearsal - then returns to the place where she had always been a star.
By LANE DeGREGORY
Published December 9, 2005
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[Times photos: Cherie Diez]
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Onstage at the Neil Simon Theatre, Michelle rehearses for Hairspray with dance captain Rusty Mowery, left, and assistant dance captain CJay Hardy Philip, right.
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Fifth of six stories.
July dragged by, hot and heavy as a bouffant wig. Michelle Dowdy had been in the cast of Hairspray for two months, but she had rehearsed her part only eight times, mostly with the other understudies.
She was dying to show what she could do.
Finally, the stage manager told her she could do a "put-in." The next day, she would run through the entire show with the regular cast. The producer, director, choreographer and musical director would be watching. When they saw things she needed to change, they would stop the rehearsal.
Suddenly Michelle had doubts. "Some of these people won Tonys!" she told her mom on the phone that night. "I'm nervous." Karla had never heard her say that before.
The next day, she relaxed and ran through the whole show: 14 scenes and 14 songs. She danced the Madison, the monkey, the mating dance called Peyton Place After Midnight. No one stopped her. Not once.
Afterward, the directors gave her notes:
Keep pitch on "Oh's" during Good Morning Baltimore. Hold hairspray can in left hand during detention scene. Remember arms in Big Girl. Don't spin lollipop.
Breathe! Pretty minor stuff for a first put-in, the cast told her. You were the talk of the theater! the understudies said. In a pinch, the stage manager told Michelle, we could put you on now.
But they didn't.
* * *
At least she could stay backstage during performances now.
After watching Hairspray from the audience more than 40 times, Michelle was glad to hang out in the dressing room. She and two other understudies shared a space the size of a walk-in closet. A speaker in the wall broadcast what was happening onstage. If something happened, the actresses could get dressed and be onstage in minutes.
Michelle spent most evenings watching Golden Girls DVDs with the other understudies or sleeping on the floor, under the makeup counter. She devoured the latest Harry Potter book backstage.
At first she understood, sort of, why she had to wait. The directors had brought back Marissa Jaret Winokur, the actress who had originated the role of Tracy in Hairspray. Of course Michelle had to take a backseat to her - and her understudy.
But then Marissa had landed a part on Pamela Anderson's new TV show, Stacked, and her understudy had started playing Tracy. For the past few weeks, Michelle had been the understudy to Shannon Durig.
She would have to wait in the wings until Shannon got a night off. And nobody was saying when that would be.
* * *
She needed a break. She needed to go home.
One Sunday in mid August, Michelle hopped a midnight flight to Florida. Karla picked her up, all hugs and tears.
The next morning, Michelle went back to Gibbs High, where she had graduated just three months earlier. She wanted to see her teachers and theater friends who were still there. This was where she had learned to act and dance and sing. If not for this school, she felt, she never would have made it to Broadway.
"Dowdy!" "Girl!" "Look at you!"
Teenagers pounced on Michelle outside the drama department. All her friends call her Dowdy. "We've missed you sooo much!" "Oooh, your hair!"
Michelle had let the Broadway stylist cut off her waist-length hair. Now the ends brushed her shoulders. He had highlighted it too, with wide caramel streaks. Michelle had always wanted highlights but could never afford them.
One of her friends made her a name tag: "Michelle - the best person ever."
In high school, she and her many theater friends combed thrift stores for costumes, built sets together and sang show tunes. Michelle was the one they all called when they needed help with their characters; she was never too busy to help others run their lines.
And, incredibly, she had made it. She was where they all wanted to be.
"We want to know what your life is like," drama teacher Keven Renken told Michelle, cupping her hand in both of his. "Tell us stories."
So Michelle pulled up a stool in Mr. Renken's classroom, under the poster from her Hairspray senior project. She looked out at the 18 students. Suddenly it felt weird, being back here. Like she was playing this person who was supposed to be her.
She didn't know what to say. Everyone thought she was a star - and she hadn't even gone onstage.
"Ask me questions," she said.
* * *
"Tell us about the clubs."
"Well, I've only really been to one, and it was a gay drag club. It was crazy."
"Have you been mugged?"
"No, not yet. I'm tough."
"Tell us about your regular day. What's it like?"
"Well, I get to the show, like, 30 minutes before it starts. That's all it takes to get ready, if they need us. And I mostly just go to the dressing room and hang out and watch movies with the other swings."
"What's a swing?"
"They basically cover all the other parts. They're like the understudies to all the other actors."
"What about costumes?"
"I don't have mine yet. But they built me a fat suit. It's weird. They built me a new butt, it's like an inch thick. It's like a fat leotard, but with shorts."
"Do you have a crush on anyone?"
"There are five straight guys in the cast, but they're all married. The guy who plays Seaweed is really cute. But we just flirt a lot."
"Are you still with R.J.?"
They all knew R.J., a junior in Gibbs' theater department. But no one had wanted to ask R.J. directly.
Michelle shook her head no. They were worlds apart now.
"Have you met any famous people?"
"Well, I got free tickets to go see Lennon and I met Jeff Goldblum. Okay, who else? Well, I didn't really meet them, but I was walking past the theater where they do Spamalot and I saw Hank Azaria and David Hyde Pierce and they sort of just smiled. And I was like, "Wow!' "
When the bell rang, everyone mobbed her.
"You'll have to let us know when you go on. We all want to come see you."
"When I come, can I crash on your couch?"
"When's it going to happen? Why's it taking so long?"
* * *
The rest of August crawled by, then September. For six weeks, she didn't rehearse at all.
In October, Michelle had to buy her first coat. She had been in New York since May. Five months!
One Sunday night, the stage manager called her into his office.
ABOUT THE SERIES
It is based on six months of reporting. St. Petersburg Times writer Lane DeGregory and photographer Cherie Diez met Michelle Dowdy and Karla Harris in May. They interviewed Michelle and her mom, as well as Michelle's teachers, friends and relatives in Florida. They also made three trips to New York City, where they interviewed the producer, stage manager and musical director of Hairspray and watched Michelle at work on Broadway. Most of the scenes described were witnessed by the reporters. Others are based on people's recollections.
Lane DeGregory can be reached at 727 893-8825 or degregory@sptimes.com Cherie Diez can be reached at (727) 893-8048 or cdiez@sptimes.com
MAMA, I'M A BIG GIRL NOW
SUNDAY: Broadway calls
MONDAY: Goodbye, Mom
TUESDAY: Turning into Tracy
THURSDAY: Are you happy, Honey?
TODAY: Waiting in the wings
SUNDAY: Showtime
[Last modified December 9, 2005, 11:19:04]
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