It's so fulfilling to have the opportunity to breathe life into not one but five different characters, eight shows a week, on Broadway. I could ramble on and on about what I enjoy most about each of my characters in Spamalot, but how interesting would that be? Instead, I'm going to talk about the challenges in playing each of these unique roles. This will also give me a chance to practice one of my favorite pastimes: good ole' self-deprecation! OK, here we go...
The Historian, a tweedy academic who opens the show and provides narrative throughout. On paper and in thought, the Historian is the character I have the least in common with. As actors, we often hear, "It's not about how different you are from the role you're playing, but how alike." So what do you do when you are alike in no way whatsoever?! It's been a wonderful lesson to realize that no matter how much distance I feel personally from any particular character, the same rule always applies. Focusing on the differences will only lead to some form of random, phony garbage. When I focus on the similarities between me and this older gentleman, I keep finding more and more.
French Guard, one of the keepers of the French castle who's not exactly interested in being recruited by King Arthur and his men. Here, I have to create a character based on only a few lines, most of which are spoken in French. The obvious choice would be simply to stand up there and "act French." Don't get me wrong. That would be appropriate for this scene, but it can feel a little icky as an actor. Fortunately for me, all I have to do is listen and react to Rick Holmes as the French Taunter, as he is of course my superior in this scene and in life.
Minstrel, who sings delicately of the many catastrophes Sir Robin may be facing. I'm not gonna lie—the challenge with the minstrel is spitting out all those words without forgetting any or biting off my tongue. The character himself is a simple, honest minstrel. But he's got a lot to sing about. I go through the song in my head sometimes multiple times, depending on my mood and exhaustion level every time before going out for this scene. I, of course, wouldn't want anyone in the audience to miss the gruesome details of Sir Robin's possibly painful death, so diction is key. And that's hard for me, 'cause I like to mumble.
Prince Herbert, a hopeful boy pining for his love atop a tower. One similarity among all the Monty Python characters is that they are believable. Prince Herbert is no exception. And that's the challenge. He is ridiculous, but he is real. Herbert's hilarious romantic scene with Sir Lancelot is a great test for the "less is more" theory. Actors like to believe that, well, more is more. I have really learned to let that go, especially with Herbert. Otherwise I find myself swimming in dangerous waters... yucky, presentational waters. And I hate presentational water.
The common denominator to playing all of these characters? Keep them simple. Keep them real. I've found that if I just stick to those two key rules, the citizens of Spamalot will all flow out and I can let them breathe life into me. If I don't, the earth's floor will part, and I will be sucked in and gone forever.