Remember these names:
Jessica Anderson
Danny Webber
Andrew Hayes
Nestor Campos
Amber Cheatham
Fae Salfiti
Tim Andrews
Paris Watson
Stewart Smith
Shaun Nuusa
Curt Thompson
Especially Curt Thompson.
You have to remember those names, because in the years to come, you’re going to see their names on marquees and in movie ads, on you TV screens and the entertainment section of your newspapers. You’re going to see them, because they are that good.
Curt Thompson would be The Boy. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned him by name here before, but that’s him. That’s my son. Our son. The Spouse Thingy and I have always been proud of him, and admired that he stayed here to go to school while we went off to Ohio for two years, but tonight we got a glimpse of his future, and holy hell. At the risk of being Way Too Proud parents. Holy Hell.
He is good.
This is the first time we’ve seen him perform since the 8th grade play of Hee Haw Hayride; last week he showed us a short film he was in that taped his second or third week of being in the Actor’s Training Program, and he was good in that, but tonight… he was good.
The entire cast of Twelfth Night was amazing. I sat there, transfixed, completely sucked into the story and the characters—and that was it, we saw them not as the actors but as the characters—and I followed it in a way I’ve never followed Shakespeare before. I “get” Shakespeare; I had great teachers through the years. But tonight I saw Shakespeare and got why the Boy likes performing Shakespeare so much.
But the fishnet stockings. And the pantyhose…
Those of you who guessed it must be a play, you win a cookie. The Boy played the part of Malvolio, a part requiring the donning of bright yellow stockings. And he wore them proudly, prancing (yes, prncing! And spinning!) on stage in his bright yellow tights and equally bright yellow A-shirt, and on that stage I didn’t see my son in skin tight…tights; I was watching Malvolio. I was watching a guy who can be a real ass, a guy who let some of his other side through and was tormented for it, embarrassed and humiliated, and a guy who walks away in the end, not having really learned anything about himself.
The Spouse Thingy and I couldn’t stop talking about it on the way home; and honestly, it wasn’t just the Boy we gushed over. We only got to see half the class of 2005 perform, but those kids…those are all amazing talents.
Sitting here, I have these twinges of regret; if we’d been here all along, we could have seen them all develop. We could have seen the Boy take those steps from the kid in the short film to the real actor that was on stage tonight. We’ve always believed in his drive to do this, but damn… now we know.
My kid is an actor. And he’s a damned fine one.
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