Nestled close by Cape Town’s legendary, unfinished bridge is the Waterfront Theatre School which recently opened the Galloway Theatre as an intimate, creative space. This is the setting for Canned Rice Production’s debut Understudy Blues. Opening night was abuzz with excitement and anticipation about the one-woman cabaret extravaganza directed by Richard Wright-Firth and starring Candice van Litsenborgh, accompanied by Drew Rienstra on piano. As the title suggests, it chronicles the lamentable travails of an actress cast as an understudy, pining for the day she will take to the boards, if only the lead would break a leg literally and not metaphorically.
Throwing a much-needed spotlight on this prerequisite of theatre performance, the show is a tribute to the underrated actor. Understudy Blues gives them a chance to shine through the telling of the story, the idea further extended with posters adorning the walls inside the theatre. These posters chronicle the real stories of various understudies, along with anecdotes from actors thanking their stand-ins. The stories range from heart-warming to horrific and add a personal touch to the production. Blank pages lie in wait for any fellow understudies who may be in the audience and wish to share their stories as well.
The butterflies that flit through the stomachs of many actors prior to a show find their way into mine whenever I watch a one-man/woman show. I approach these shows with trepidation, because it takes an awful lot of courage to pull it off. Van Litsenborgh ups the stakes even further by having to sing for much of the performance as well. This is made even more challenging by musical numbers which leap between varying genres, styles and characters. But van Litsenborgh pulls it off with aplomb, displaying range, sparkle and, above all, a delightful comic wit which set my butterflies at ease.
Everything on stage – from the ambient lighting and captivating music to the changing costumes and plethora of props – combined to faithfully and humorously reflect the drama of theatre and the actor, as well as the boredom the understudy endures wiling away hours in the dressing room. But my favourite moments were the ones where she contemplates convincing the director to give her just one performance, at the very least. The varying tactics van Litsenborgh employs are moments of comic precision, pulled off with grandiose expressiveness and physical frustration, all the more admirable for the absence of an actor at the receiving end of her pleas. The show is incredibly niche, with its fair share of in-jokes; while a sound knowledge of film and theatre is often required to keep up. But van Litsenborgh’s deft handling of the comedy and the music keep the audience in the palm of her hand, while the other one holds up a candle for the underdog.
Understudy Blues runs from 21 to 31 May at the Galloway Theatre.