Hey, actors! Here’s a plum opportunity for you: a classic, really well-crafted, suspenseful play that recently enjoyed a big hit revival; and a director who’s skillful, generous, and with great acting chops herself.
Auditions in August, performances in November. Do it.
Please follow the instructions for securing your audition appointment with the Director. Thanks!
by J.B. Priestley | Directed by Mary Fitzpatrick | Produced by Evelyn Alcorn Corsini and Ginger Webb
Please prepare any one of the monologues included in this notice regardless of the part you are interested in. No British accents required. You will also be asked to read scenes from the show. Performers of all ethnic and racial background are encouraged to attend. Groups of actors will be scheduled in one-hour blocks.
To schedule an audition appointment or for questions contact Director Mary Fitzpatrick at firstname.lastname@example.org
Please bring the following with you to your audition:
1) Head Shot or Photo
2) Theatrical Resumé
3) Completed Audition Form
AFD is seeking actors for the following roles:
- ARTHUR BIRLING: Middle 50s-60s. Stolid and prosperous manufacturer who is eager to improve his social standing.
- SYBIL BIRLING: 50s, her husband’s social superior. Gracious but somewhat aloof.
- SHEILA BIRLING: Early 20s, warm, open, and vulnerable.
- ERIC BIRLING: 20s, awkward and ill-at-ease. Has low self-esteem and a drinking problem.
- GERALD CROFT: 30s. Handsome, well-bred, and sure of himself.
- INSPECTOR GOOLE: Middle aged (40-55). Keenly observant, blunt, authoritative.
- The Birlings’ parlor maid. EDNA: Any age.
ABOUT AN INSPECTOR CALLS:
It’s April 1912 in the home of the prosperous Birling family. Arthur Birling, his wife Sybil, their daughter Sheila and son Eric are in the drawing room just after dinner celebrating Sheila’s engagement to Gerald Croft, son of Sir George Croft, and heir to the most successful family business in the North of England. Their cozy celebration is suddenly interrupted when Edna, the maid, announces the unexpected arrival of ‘Police Inspector Goole’. The Inspector has come to the Birling home to investigate the death of a young woman. As the Inspector’s questions unravel the mystery, each member of the family learns of each other’s secrets linking them to the tragedy. His startling revelations uncover the truth and shatter the foundations of their lives.
The first read-thru will be held on Tuesday, August 30. Rehearsals will begin the end of September on Sunday afternoons and Monday, Thursday and some Friday evenings.
All rehearsals will be held at Arlington Friends Of The Drama, 22 Academy Street, Arlington, MA
November 11, 2016 at 8PM
November 12, 2016 at 8PM
November 13, 2016 at 4PM (with talk-back)
November 18, 2016 at 8PM
November 19, 2016 at 8PM
November 20, 2016 at 4PM
MONOLOGUES TO PREPARE:
Birling: This is the point. I don’t want to lecture you two young fellows again. But what so many of you don’t seem to understand now when things are so much easier, is that a man has to make his own way—has to look after himself—and his family, too, of course, when he has one—and so long as he does that he won’t come to much harm. But the way some of these cranks talk and write now, you’d think everybody has to look after everybody else, as if we were all mixed up together like bees in a hive—a man has to mind his own business and look after himself and his own and— (doorbell rings) All right, Eric, Edna’ll answer it. We’ll have another glass of port, Gerald—and then we’ll join the ladies. That’ll stop me giving you good advice.
Inspector: I don’t need to know any more. Neither do you. This girl killed herself—and died a horrible death. But each of you helped to kill her. Remember that. Never forget it. But then I don’t think you ever will……One Eva Smith has gone—but there are millions and millions of Eva Smiths and John Smiths still left with us, with their lives, their hopes and fears, their suffering and chance of happiness, all intertwined with our lives, with what we think and say and do. We don’t live alone. We are members of one body. We are responsible for each other. And I tell you that the time will soon come when if men will not learn that lesson, then they will be taught it in fire and blood and anguish. We don’t live alone. Good night.
Sheila: I’d gone in to Milward’s to try something on. It was an idea of my own—Mother was against it, and so had the salesgirl—but I insisted. As soon as I tried it on, I knew they’d been right. It just didn’t suit me at all. I looked silly in the thing. Well this girl had brought the dress up from the workroom, and when the salesgirl—Miss Francis—had asked her something about it, this girl, to show us what she meant, had held the dress up, as if she was wearing it. And it just suited her. She was the right type of it, just as I was the wrong type. She was a very pretty girl, too – with soft fine hair and big gray eyes—and that didn’t make it any better. Well, when I tried the thing on and look at myself and knew it was all wrong, I caught sight of this girl smiling at Miss Francis—as if to say, “Doesn’t she look awful?” —and I was absolutely furious. I lost my temper. I was very rude to both of them, and then I went to the manager and told him that this girl had been very impertinent—and—and—how could I know what would happen afterwards?
If she’d been some miserable plain little creature, I don’t suppose I could have done it. But she looked as if she could take care of herself. I couldn’t be sorry for her.
Mrs. Birling: I’ll tell you what I told her. Go and look for the father of the child. It’s his responsibility…. Oh, stop it, both of you. And please remember before you start accusing me of anything again that it wasn’t I who had her turned out of her employment—which probably began it all. I think I was justified. The girl had begun by telling us a pack of lies. Afterwards, when I got at the truth, I discovered that she knew who the father was, she was quite certain about that, and so I told her it was her business to make him responsible. If he refused to marry her—and in my opinion he ought to be compelled to—that he must at least support her. She was giving herself ridiculous airs. She was claiming elaborate fine feelings and scruples that were simply absurd in a girl in her position.