This is a "behind the scenes" review of my school's 1999 fall theater production, Lincoln Park Zoo, by Richard Strand, that I wrote for the school paper. I was also the stage manager for the play.

Undoubtedly, the most memorable part of this year’s Fall Production, Lincoln Park Zoo, was the bloody condom. In the sixth scene, Brian Kanner got shot. Stacy Sher, the prop manager, couldn’t find blood packets, and so she created her own with plastic bags, fake blood, and a lighter. Unfortunately, they were flimsy and leaked, so we turned to a substance that’s guaranteed to be durable and leak-proof. Simply pour the red-dyed fructose in, squeeze it to the bottom, tighten into a high-pressure ball, attempt to tie a knot (not so easy with spermicidal lubricant), cut off the excess, and tape onto Brian. It took awhile to get it to work right–first it was too loose to pop, then it was splattering all over the floor when someone touched it–but the end result worked well enough. There’s an uncountable number of disgusting images in the world, but few beat a condom oozing with chillingly realistic blood. On the other hand, resisting the urge to vomit when looking at one of the play’s only special effects was but one of many trials that those involved went through.

As always, the play had a demanding rehearsal schedule. However, because the whole cast had the same Theater class, early rehearsals took place during the schoolday, meaning fewer evening visits to Shorecrest. The last two weeks before the play opened, of course, were as time-consuming as ever: three to four hour rehearsals on weeknights, a total of nine hours during the last weekend, and time before and after each performance. The juniors involved in the play faced a specific hardship in the form of Mr. Moore’s dreaded second quarter US History test. It was worth ninety percent of their quarter grade–and the day after Lincoln Park Zoo opened. Despite having no time to study for the week and a half prior to the test, the six juniors in the cast and crew managed to pass with enough late night cramming. While in an ideal world, it might have been possible for them to study for the test when not on stage, it just doesn’t happen. Ever.

Because Lincoln Park Zoo is written so that every character (except for George, Brian Kanner’s character, which gave him the dubious honor of spending two extra scenes on stage as a corpse) is only in two scenes, which are consecutive (except for Stan, Josh Phillips’ character, who bookended the play), everyone was backstage for most of the play. Cast members would run lines and console their friends if anything went wrong with their scenes outside the auditorium. Others would sit in back and watch the show. The real social center, though, was the Lower School kitchen, where the cast could talk without being heard by the audience and stare at the refrigerators, wishing someone had a key giving access to the various and sundry snacks sure to be residing inside. Thoughts of the unattainable ice cream and soft drinks and cheese cake and water were almost the most depressing thoughts. Almost.

Right above that on the list of morale-droppers was the pathetic turn-out. No one is quite sure why so few people showed up to see the play, and in fact, it’s somewhat ironic that the student body gave more support to last year’s performance of Our Town than to this year’s production. One can only assume that a play chock-full with murder, mystery, comedy, and satire would be more appealing to teenagers than a play about a small New Hampshire town and the beauty of life and death. But then, Our Town did have off-stage sex. Maybe we just needed to advertise that Brian would be using a condom on stage.