The scenario, creating a squirm-in-your-seat discomfort, is exactly where Nat Paradis and Lurene Legassey Soloway wanted to be.
Back on stage, making the audience feel the moment, the emotion, the awkwardness of two former lovers meeting after two decades apart, trying to figure out if a future together still exists. Or if that’s even a good idea.
In this case, Soloway tried to seduce Paradis, tempting him with kisses and memories. In response, Paradis, torn, confused and cautious, fearful of getting hurt, mentioned that the Red Sox hadn’t won the World Series in 86 years.
“It affects my testosterone,” Paradis said.
“You should be fine,” Soloway responded. “The Red Sox are in first place.”
These were actors – Suzanne Watts of Penacook, Patrick McGranaghan of Pembroke – from the Community Players of Concord, rehearsing for a slight variation of a Grand Opening.
With the threat of COVID diminished, at least for now, this is a Grand Reopening, a play called “Last Gas,” running from May 6-8 at the Concord City Auditorium.
The Players performed “Bare Foot in the Park” last October at the Audi , but that was at one-third capacity. Masks and hand sanitizer were required.
This time – for a play focusing on family relations and friendships that unfold in a remote convenience store/gas station in Maine, three miles from the Canadian border – a capacity crowd would be just fine with our star-crossed lovers.
They’re back with four other members in this troupe, back to their Josiah Bartlett Road Studio, practicing a screenplay that blends poignancy with humor.
It’s been a long time coming.
“We had a read-through and two or three weeks of rehearsal,” McGranaghan said by phone after a recent rehearsal. “Then we were done in March (2020). It was just a little bit frustrating, because you get excited about something and then you’re put on the shelf.”
The world, in fact, was put on a shelf, and around here, the Community Players represent part of Concord’s return to normalcy. They were scheduled to perform “Bare Foot” in May of 2020. COVID pushed it back to last October.
Wayne Bunnell, the director of “Last Gas,” has seen a lot in the 40 years he’s spent volunteering for an enduring part of the city’s artistic landscape.
He sensed early on that society had to bow in deference to COVID.
“No one knew, and no one wanted to guess,” Bunnell said. “I said all along that COVID is driving the bus, and where ever the bus goes, we have to go.”
They were led to a dead end, interrupting the rhythm of “Last Gas” and, in fact, all stage presentations for nearly 20 months. And remember, the Players date back 95 years, to 1927.
Volunteers were and remain the bottom line to success, and it’s something that Ellen Burger, president of the Players, says a lot.
“Make sure to mention that,” Burger said. “We need them (volunteers).”
She had them during the shut-down. While the actors were told to stay away, finally returning to rehearsal last August, others were back the summer before, just four months after the quarantine went into effect, wearing masks, socially distancing themselves and giving the studio a makeover and a thorough cleaning.
They filled two 30-yard containers with stuff that should have been discarded long ago. They painted everything, reinstalled new floors, new toilets, new shelves and cubbies, an upgraded electric system in the workshop.
Now, Betty Lent of Epsom has a place for her computer. She uses it to track the costumes lent to other theater groups, making sure they’re returned to an organization that has 20,000 costumes.
On nearby shelves sit Tupperware containers labeled ‘Oz munchkin shoes, ruby slippers,’ and ‘Dorothy and the witch.’
“Back here in the zoo,” Lent said, pointing, “we have all sorts of creatures. Lions and dinosaurs and bears.”
Oh my.
Some wardrobe items hang in the office. “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Lent said, before moving to a back area, where corridors that stretched like school hallways connected to 10 packed closets, some the size of a studio apartment.
Everything is categorized and separated, by gender, time period, occupation. There are scarves from the 1930s and ‘40s, plus military uniforms.
“They improved the place in ways that had never been done before,” Burger said. “The studio, to me, helps to demonstrate and illustrate what we have created here.”
The creation relies on donations as well as volunteers. And while the studio was officially closed for 1½ years, Burger and her staff raised about $25,000. during that time. That, she said, saved the studio’s life.
“Our initial reaction was that we needed money,” Burger said, referring to the effect caused by the pandemic. “People are out of work, people don’t have enough food, but can we ask for money right now? People were extra generous. We could have gone under.”
Instead, the main room is alive with rehearsals. The set, built by former carpenter Rick Silverberg of Concord, includes a counter, shelving, doors, windows and blue-striped walls.
The irony is that the studio’s closing due to the pandemic helped this production, giving Silverberg more time to build the set and the actors more time to learn their lines, refine their craft.
“What happened was each person processed everything,” said Bunnell, the director, “and they did better than when I left them off several months before.”
Paradis and Soloway, portrayed by McGranaghan and Watts, nailed their scene.
Soloway knew what she wanted.
Paradis, haunted by their past, wasn’t sure.
“My interpretation of it was that he very much loves this woman,” McGranaghan said. “But loving and being comfortable with someone, to push through your own mental issues from the past, that does not come naturally.”
That scene, tense and risque, sure did.
Welcome back, Players.
For tickets, visit communityplayersofconcord.org.