The first play I wrote in Canada was staged in a well-known Toronto theatre this month. It was an amazing experience. I, a newcomer, watched my lines come alive, and in English.
Thank you, my faithful readers, who recognized me and came to congratulate me. You all told me you had come to the show because you loved my columns, you said it was a well-written show, and you showered me with love and affection, which made me giddy for days after.
I appreciate your faith in me, and I promise there’s more where this play came from – and even this one, you haven’t heard the last of…
During the audition process, I spotted my two stars right away. First, was the actor Ron Boyd (Paul, the Canadian). The man is a walking humour bomb. The moment he entered, he owned the room. Ron had a role in the CTV show Corner Gas and has acted in many other shows. His charisma is palpable. He was my lead character, and boy, did Boyd deliver the goods. Watching his unique interpretation of the character was more than a delight!
My second star was Richard Hoffman (David, the Israeli), who, among other roles, is a panellist on the CP24 show Hot Properties. When I saw him, I knew he was my David. He is handsome, and had this power of making my words really sound authentic. During intermission, I overheard two couples mistakenly saying: “The Israeli character is based on Nina’s husband…’cause that’s how Meir comes across in her columns…”
My Meir says he’s not that submissive, but who listens to him anyway?
So, please remember those two names.
I remember the first time my Israeli play was staged in Tel Aviv. I was so excited that day. I booked an appointment at the hair salon and went out with this super chopped “do.” I bought a new tight, sexy skirt, and I decided to dye my fair eyebrows, and was left with two frightening, dark worms on my whitish forehead. I also tried a new lipstick, which turned out to give me an allergic reaction. Oh, well… two seconds before I entered the theatre, my sexy skirt split, and I had to borrow Meir’s dark, huge jacket to cover my outstanding behind. Picture this: super short “do,” swollen lips, black spots above the eyes, and a big man’s smoking jacket. I was not smokin’, not at all. Naturally, I had to go on stage and say my thanks.
The next day, the local paper included flattering comments about the show and, what do you know, the “goth” playwright. “It was such a genuine surprise to discover the dark, sombre artist, who wrote such funny material, yet, somehow, was not afraid to show her deep, dour, true colours,” the paper said. So go figure…