Auditions

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June 1st 6-8:30PM

Virtual Auditions are due Wednesday, June 1st at 9 pm

AGES 12+ 

 *PREPARE A MONOLOGUE FROM  BELOW  THAT RELATES TO THE CHARACTER YOU ARE AUDITIONING FOR. IN-PERSON AUDITIONS WILL ALSO CONSIST OF A COLD READ FOR GROUP SCENES. 

SHOW DATES ARE: JULY 23-24 REHEARSALS WILL TYPICALLY BE A MIX OF MONDAYS 6-8:30 (9), AND WEDNESDAYS 6-8:30 (9). There will be additional rehearsals during tech week.

Participation Fee: $125

Make Your Payment Here: https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/SpotlightPAA

Show Information, Characters, and Free Version of the Script can be found at: https://www.playscripts.com/play/1171 

Stage kisses, pinkeye, inciting World War III -- these are only a few of the many things that can go wrong during the production of a play. From the author of 15 Reasons Not To Be in a Play comes a full evening of the horrors and hardships that befall those who feel the call of the stage. In a series of hilarious examples, this play proves that drama can be a very dangerous thing and it must be avoided at all costs. 

Female Monologues 

1. Misty (Reason 2): When you were in second grade, you had a teacher named Miss Griswold. She was older than God and she smelled like stale coffee and gym socks. She invented amazing methods of torture using construction paper and popsicle sticks. She turned perfectly normal questions into sadistic games of chance that you would always lose. You had Miss Griswold and she decided to put you in a play. The play was about loving the earth and you spent weeks with your hands in paper-mâché trying to put together the costumes and the props. She made you put on a tree costume. It itched like you had lice all over your body. When you tried to turn your head you faced the inside of the tree and you couldn’t see. You could barely walk because the tree trunk was so small. Only ten minutes into the play, Jesse Givens, who was dressed as a skunk, bumped into you. You fell. You lay on the floor for the rest of the play because your arms were trapped at your sides. When the play was finally over and everyone had taken their bows and had exited the stage, you were still left there, a fallen and forgotten tree feebly calling for help. By the time your mother found you, you had given up and gone to sleep. And in that sleep, you had your first nightmare where Miss Griswold was a giant tree coming at you with a thousand play scripts hanging from her branches and you couldn’t run, you couldn’t scream, you couldn’t move. That dream came back night after night for weeks and months. Eventually, you had it less and less often but every time you have it, even last week, you wet your bed. So anytime you hear someone talk about a play you smell paper-mâché and you see the inside of a tree and you hear Miss Griswold’s voice saying... Needs! Needs! And you walk away, very, very quickly.

 2. Julie (Reason 3): Because you’re a fast talker. You come from a family of fast talkers and if there’s such a thing as a gene for fast talking you have definitely inherited it and if you were in a play you’d memorize your lines and all that but you’d say them too fast and you know the director would tell you to talk slower. And you’d know you’re supposed to take it slower and you would say to yourself over and over, “Talk slower, talk slower,” but when you worried about it you’d get tense and when you got tense you’d talk even faster so the director would start to get mad and he’d say... “You have to talk slower!” And you’d practically be screaming at yourself inside your- self and beating yourself up because you’d know you were still talking too fast but you’d be getting so nervous about it you’d be getting faster and faster so the director would lose his patience finally and yell... “Slower!” And that would make you go so fast that you never even took a breath and you’d go and go and go and go and go and go so fast that you ran completely out of air but still you’d be telling yourself to slow down so the director wouldn’t yell at you because you hated that but you couldn’t stop racing and racing until finally you just... (JULIE passes out.) 

3. Mandy (Reason 4): Plays take passion and devotion and commitment. You can’t afford to expend any of those things on a play when Travis Thorburn is alive. Look at him! All passion, all devotion, all commitment you must direct at him and him alone. Listen, Travis Thorburn is your everything. He is your sun and your moon and your breakfast cereal. He is your waking and your sleeping and your daydreams and your night dreams.    He is the taste of toothpaste. He is the cool breeze in your face. Every breath you take in should be exhaled with a single purpose: to say the name Travis. Every thought you form should have but a single intention: to visualize Travis. Do you know what some people do at the end of a play? They bring flowers to the performers! That is a crime, a sin, an act of utter blasphemy because all of the flowers grown in this world are grown to be strewn at the feet of one person and one person only Travis Thorburn. With Travis Thorburn in the world, can you take time to think about a play, practice for a play, memorize for a play, be in a play? Hell no! How can you even consider it? Look at him! Behold the great Travis! What more can you do than try not to faint when he walks into the room? And if he should ever say to you... “Get lost. I have a girlfriend.” ...what more can you do than feel your aching heart burst into a billion bloody pieces? What more can you do than just lay down and die? 

4. Megan (Reason 8): Because rehearsals and performances will make you run the risk of not monitoring your cell phone and your e-mail on a regular basis. That’s very dangerous. Because, yeah, most of what you get are meaningless bits of gossip and Viagra ads, but you never know! The one cell phone call might come, the one e-mail that has to be replied to within five minutes, the one message that will completely change your life. Okay, so it’s never happened to you before and it’s never actually happened to anyone you know but that doesn’t matter. It could happen! (Her cell phone rings.) Hello? No, this isn’t Carma’s Tattoo Empori um. No, I do not want to get a tattoo there, thank-you. (She hangs up, looks back out at the audience.) It could happen!

 5. Celcily (Reason 11): Because you’re just, you’re just, you’re just too shy. You...you can barely get two words out of your mouth in front, in front of, of an audience. Whenever you have oral presentations in class, you, you, you, you just take a zero. If somebody tries to force you, you start to cry. A play? Oh, no, no, no. You’re painfully shy. That would kill you. You would just die from embarrassment, staring out at those lights, knowing that people are sitting there, judging you—judging what you’re wearing, what you’re saying, the way you’re standing. You’d be mortified! I mean, it’s a completely unreasonable request, to ask you to be in a play. They might as well tell you to stand against the wall so they can assemble a firing squad and have you shot, righ t? You’re shy, remember? Hands-freezing, armpits-dripping, knees-knocking, head-pounding shy! Is that a problem? Is it? Just because you’re shy, can’t you be allowed to just stay in a corner and be that way, or does this society absolutely require that, no matter how traumatic it might be, you have to get up on stage and do whatever some script requires? You’re shy, darn it! Shy, shy, shy! So what, if the script says sing the ABC’s like an opera star, do you have to go ahead and start singing away? (Singing like an opera star:) A-B-C-D-E-F-G! That’s way too much to ask of a shy person, I’m telling you! If the script should require that you grab some strange guy and hold him close to you like he’s your favorite teddy bear; if it commands that you stroke his hair and grab his shirt as if you can’t liv e without him...are you supposed to just go ahead and do that? If they script calls for you to kiss him passionately, No! You’re too shy! You can’t be in a play and you can’t sing opera and you can’t grope some guy and you just can’t possibly make a fool of   yourself in front of a crowd full of people because (Screaming, emphasizing every word with huge energy:) YOU ARE JUST WAY TOO AMAZINGLY, INCREDIBLY, PITIFULLY... (Suddenly pausing, realizing the irony, and backing off to a whisper:) ...shy. 

6. Kim (Reason 18): Because if you’re in a play, when the play is over, they’ll want to have a cast party, which is okay, except that it will be at this boy named Peter’s house who you find fairly attractive which is okay except that sometimes when you look at the shape of his face and the depth of his dimples you start to wonder about the names and genders of the offspring you might produce together which is okay except that he has no idea you have a crush on h im which is okay except that at the cast party at his house, Peter’s mother is going to make this pink, fluffy salad sort of stuff with Cool Whip and strawberry Jell-O and canned fruit cocktail in it which is okay except that when you were four years old you sort of loved the stuff so much that you sneaked a huge bowl of it off the buffet table one New Year’s Eve and sat under the table with the bowl and a soup spoon and by the time your parents finally found you, you had pretty much o.d.-ed on the stuff which is okay except now every time you even look at the pink fluffy stuff you get that pukey feeling which is okay except at the cast party some body will put a big mound of the stuff with little bits of fruit poking out of it like body parts in a zombie movie and they’ll hold it ri ght up to your face, right under your nose, and they’ll say, “Don’t you just loooove this pink fluffy stuff?” which is okay except not only will you get that pukey feel- ing but you’ll actually know you’re about to worship the porcelain god which is okay but before you can sprint to the bathroom who will end up right in your path but your future husband for all time and eternity, Peter, who will be about to smile and show you his dimples when you’ll suddenly make that horrible “raaalph!” noise and you’ll vomit all over the brand-new jet black Converse All Stars he bought just for the party. And that will definitely not be okay! 

7. Mia (Reason 26): My first reason —Abraham Lincoln. Long recognized as one of our greatest presidents, Mr. Lincoln was killed in the theatre, by an actor, after watching a play. Does that make sense now, Nate? My second reason—overgrown zucchini. At various points in history, audience displeasure at a poor theatrical performance has been expressed by the throwing of over-ripe vegetables. Given the cyclical nature of fashion, such a tradition could well return. And if, while performing in a play, one we re clobbered by a vegetable as substantial as an overgrown zucch ini, one might be rendered unconscious, perhaps even comatose. Any questions, Nate? Mia’s reason the third—conjunctivitis. Also colloquially known as pink-eye, this highly contagious and irritating malady can be easily spread amongst cast members of a play because they foolishly, wantonly share mascara in preparation for stage appearance. Satisfactory, dear Nathaniel?And my final reason—half inch plywood. One common error in theatrical construction, when amateurs rather than professionals are often engaged, is the utilization of too-thin plywood for the construction of standing surfaces, otherwise known as platforms. Specifically, these novices will construct platforms of 1⁄2 inch rather than 3⁄4 inch plywood, thinking that a 1⁄4 inch will not much matter. But when these insufficiently-supported platforms are elevated several feet above the stage floor and are   overloaded by too many uninformed actors, that 1⁄4 of an inch of insufficiency may well cause them to plummet to the stage, injured not only by the fall but by the lethal shards of wood and metal that might impale them on the way down! Nathaniel, are you now satisfied that my assertions are, in fact, valid reasons not to be in a play?  

Male Monologues 

1. Rob (Reason 6): The play might have a part where you’re supposed to hold hands with the person next to you and the person next to you might have these wart-like things on their fingers and you’ll feel them as you’re holding hands with them and you’ll be thinking the whole time you’re holding hands with them how their hand feels like a toad and you’ll be worrying that the wart-like things might be contagious and you’ll start seeing yourself covered with these wart-like things from head to toe, I mean, every body part including your face and your elbows and even your navel and you’ll practically puke! So it’s definitely not worth the risk. 

2. Doug (Reason 7): Because you remember Susie Jenson. When you were six, you lived in a neighborhood that had a lot of old people, trees, dogs, fences and just one other kid your age: Susie. Since you were the only other kid Susie’s age, she decided you must be her best friend. Since—amongst the trees, fences, dogs and old people— there was only one other kid your age, your parents assumed you wanted to be with Susie. But, in truth, Susie Jens on—whom you could not escape— bugged the living heck out of you. Why? Because every day, every single day, she wanted to do the same thing. She wanted to put on a play. And every play, every single play, she wanted to be the same thing, a fairy. And then Susie, the fairy, would proceed to tell you every possible way you could enact her supporting role. Hour after hour with Susie. Day after day with Susie. The weeks, the months, the eternities with Susie and her fairy variations. Susie. Susie Jenson. The torturing fairy of your childhood. So now, whenever anyone mentions being in a play, you think of... Susie. And you curl up in the fetal position and refuse to eat or speak for a month. 

3. John (Reason 24): Because when you’re doing stuff in the play, you might hurt your left-hand pinky finger. Yeah. And you know, you never know, but the way science is going, you have a pretty good idea that someday they’re going to come out and say that the whole key to your entire health system isn’t your lungs or your heart or your spine or your brain...it’s your left-hand pinky finger. And you’ll be really old and feeling really crummy and you’ll hear the science people say that and you’ll look at your ruined left-hand pinky finger and you’ll say, “Rats! That darned play. Rats, rats, rats!”