REVIEW: 'The Christmas Show' is a labor of love

Last night, I got to see "how the sausage is made."

As a member of the media, I was invited to watch DPRCA's "The Christmas Show" before anyone else. This time, I was on assignment, shooting photos to document Elliott Schwab's original script coming together on stage.

Well, that was part of it. I also wanted to be among the first to see it so I could give you, my dear readers, a glimpse inside the show.

It was the one Wednesday night appointment I was happy to take, and it came just in time.

The news cycle never stops, especially not on a press day, and this week was par for the course. Earlier in the day, reporter Nathan Price covered the breaking story about the Midkota superintendent's arrest. Then during intermission, I heard the news that Henry Kissinger had died at the age of 100.

It was a delightful way to relax after a chaotic day. I snapped more than two thousand photos over the course of the three-hour rehearsal. I got to see it all, from start to finish, and I watched the characters develop and the choreography come together.

I felt like I was at home in that theatre. At times I was so drawn into the story that it was like I was in my favorite chair watching a movie.

Yes, this show is a must see, for many reasons.

DPRCA's hallmark is its music, and "The Christmas Show" was spot on. If the music is what brings you to a show, you won't want to miss this one. Schwab has incorporated so many classic Christmas songs, and there isn't a weak voice in the troupe.

At times I focused exclusively on taking great photos to capture this historic moment for DPRCA. Elliott Schwab's original script deserved to be celebrated and documented. Therefore, expressing appreciation for each scene and the actors' performances took a back seat.

Yet, certain "moments" stuck with me. I especially enjoyed Waldorf and Statler, the ghostly original inhabitants of the property. Their raucous musical number in Act 1 was a great introduction to their characters.

It's like Celia, the troupe's musical director, tells the resident monster, Minkus: "Little moments. We never know how, where, or when they'll speak to people, but they do. Always, Minkus. In every show."

Yes, life is a string of moments. This play shakes up the whole string, and through the characters we experience all the emotions.

We discover the past, present and future through this small-town troupe. We learn about the beginnings of the Penrose Playhouse and its inhabitants and how that shapes the troupe's current state. The characters, each in their own way, grapple with the sudden end of an era and ponder what the future holds.

They come together, and they find joy in the local experience.

That's what small town people and community theatre actors do. They make each other feel like they belong, like they are part of something.

The moments that speak to you may be different than mine.

I already have booked tickets so I can see a live performance. As a patron, I will pay close attention to "what changed" to make the scenes flow even more smoothly than they did last night. And I will clap and laugh and enthusiastically express my appreciation to the actors.

Someone asked me the other day, before even seeing the show, if I thought Schwab would license the show so other playhouses could perform it. I certainly hope he does.

When I said I intended to write a review, another staff member asked what would happen if the show didn't meet my expectations.

"There's no way I won't like it," I replied. I was right. Even with the few cobbled-together lines, late sound effects and missing props, I saw one man's vision of life on display.

It wasn't flawless, and there's incredible beauty in that. The scenes are long but the show is short, just like life. We can each relate to the emotions of at least one of the characters.

Early in the show, a philosophical Minkus commiserates about the fact that maybe live theatre was becoming irrelevant, considering the endless forms of entertainment now available. He muses, "The past few years have just felt like a forced march through the sulphureous muck of 'low comedy'. Seems to be the only thing anyone wants to see anymore."

"If broad, low comedy, as you put it, can brighten someone's life – even for just a couple hours – isn't that worth celebrating? Grand gestures are wonderful, Minkus. Sweeping strokes of genius are wonderful. But sometimes, a person just wants to laugh," Celia replies.

We get all the above with this one. DPRCA captured the essence of life, in all its glory and its messiness, in one performance.

Art is a labor of love, and we are so fortunate that we have the talent, imagination and vocabulary of Elliott Schwab in this community.

He and the Penrose Players await the chance to make you a part of their family this season. Take them up on it.