bald in spots. He was a young dog, about two years old, shy with strangers, but friendly with the shelter people he knew. He was cautious with me, but let me hold him. They called him Snowball. My heart went out to him. While he would probably never be a performing dog, I felt I could help him, so I adopted him. He immediately went to my vet for a complete checkup and remained there for about a week while they cured his intestinal worms.
As Snowy (his new name) began to feel better, his energy improved. He was the direct opposite of Fritz, who was calm and loving. Snowy was a true terrier. He would pick fights with the bigger dogs that challenged him, he barked at everything, and he never sat still except for sleeping. But it was a joy to see him come back to life and good health, and he got along with Fritz.
Rehearsal began as scheduled, and I was thrilled to be part of this new project. The cast was brilliant. The design team had cooked up an unbelievable set. The director and writer had a clear vision of what they wanted, and it seemed flawless. I spent my days with the dogs in rehearsal, getting used to the action and the cast and working individually with Scotty Schwartz.
One of the most interesting things I’ve ever done in my career is work with puppeteer Bil Baird, who was given the job of making the dead “Fritz.” When I first met him he looked exactly like you’d picture a puppeteer. He was white haired with a white beard and looked like Gepetto from
Pinocchio
. He was soft spoken and kind. He measured Fritz from every angle and went to work. When he came back with the finished puppet, it was incredible. He used white yak hair to simulate the white Westie fur. The puppethad enough movable joints so that when you carried it, it moved exactly like a limp body. The detail was incredible in the face, even down to the tongue, which hung out and had glycerin drops on it to look like saliva. It was a masterpiece and even fooled the dogs when they first saw it!
We were slated to open the show in New York at the famed Palace Theater. The tech rehearsals in this show went on longer than any show I had worked on. We spent weeks in the theater going from scene to scene. The show opened with a blizzard onstage and Dr. Frankenstein and the creature scaling a mountain. The scene went black, and in seven seconds, we were in the drawing room of the Frankenstein estate with Scotty, the dog, and four other actors onstage. It was an incredible effect, accomplished by a large white silk drape covering the set with everyone preset underneath, and two life-sized Bil Baird puppets being controlled from behind the set. The lights would go down and the silk would be pulled into a hole at center stage. And that was only the beginning. The laboratory scene had electricity, bubbles, and, of course, the creature, who was lifted up into the air on a table and struck by lightning. The creature himself was scary to look at and required two hours of makeup. And in the end, the entire lab would blow up and collapse around the actors, only to be covered again by the white silk to reenact the opening scene in the blizzard. They even pulled out seats in the audience and put huge speakers in the floor so that when the thunder and lightning crashed, the entire orchestra area would vibrate. It was a feat unmatched in theater design.
During all the waiting around, we would sit and listen to the legendary actor John Carradine, who was playing a small part in the play. Because of his age, John only came to rehearsal for his one scene. He was very professional and quiet. During these long hours at the theater, he would hold court and tell stories of the old days. He’d tell us about John Barrymore and his drinking escapades, or about working with Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi. He was a treasure to be around.
We began previews on December 9—it was such a thrill to say I had two shows running on Broadway at the same time. Fritz was doing great.He
As Snowy (his new name) began to feel better, his energy improved. He was the direct opposite of Fritz, who was calm and loving. Snowy was a true terrier. He would pick fights with the bigger dogs that challenged him, he barked at everything, and he never sat still except for sleeping. But it was a joy to see him come back to life and good health, and he got along with Fritz.
Rehearsal began as scheduled, and I was thrilled to be part of this new project. The cast was brilliant. The design team had cooked up an unbelievable set. The director and writer had a clear vision of what they wanted, and it seemed flawless. I spent my days with the dogs in rehearsal, getting used to the action and the cast and working individually with Scotty Schwartz.
One of the most interesting things I’ve ever done in my career is work with puppeteer Bil Baird, who was given the job of making the dead “Fritz.” When I first met him he looked exactly like you’d picture a puppeteer. He was white haired with a white beard and looked like Gepetto from
Pinocchio
. He was soft spoken and kind. He measured Fritz from every angle and went to work. When he came back with the finished puppet, it was incredible. He used white yak hair to simulate the white Westie fur. The puppethad enough movable joints so that when you carried it, it moved exactly like a limp body. The detail was incredible in the face, even down to the tongue, which hung out and had glycerin drops on it to look like saliva. It was a masterpiece and even fooled the dogs when they first saw it!
We were slated to open the show in New York at the famed Palace Theater. The tech rehearsals in this show went on longer than any show I had worked on. We spent weeks in the theater going from scene to scene. The show opened with a blizzard onstage and Dr. Frankenstein and the creature scaling a mountain. The scene went black, and in seven seconds, we were in the drawing room of the Frankenstein estate with Scotty, the dog, and four other actors onstage. It was an incredible effect, accomplished by a large white silk drape covering the set with everyone preset underneath, and two life-sized Bil Baird puppets being controlled from behind the set. The lights would go down and the silk would be pulled into a hole at center stage. And that was only the beginning. The laboratory scene had electricity, bubbles, and, of course, the creature, who was lifted up into the air on a table and struck by lightning. The creature himself was scary to look at and required two hours of makeup. And in the end, the entire lab would blow up and collapse around the actors, only to be covered again by the white silk to reenact the opening scene in the blizzard. They even pulled out seats in the audience and put huge speakers in the floor so that when the thunder and lightning crashed, the entire orchestra area would vibrate. It was a feat unmatched in theater design.
During all the waiting around, we would sit and listen to the legendary actor John Carradine, who was playing a small part in the play. Because of his age, John only came to rehearsal for his one scene. He was very professional and quiet. During these long hours at the theater, he would hold court and tell stories of the old days. He’d tell us about John Barrymore and his drinking escapades, or about working with Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi. He was a treasure to be around.
We began previews on December 9—it was such a thrill to say I had two shows running on Broadway at the same time. Fritz was doing great.He
Similar Books
