1% of You
Posted by Tracy Letts on 4/30/2007In order to truly appreciate what I have to say here, you have to accept this premise: 99% of you are great. Thoughtful, energetic, and respectful, you are the fuel that drives the engine of Steppenwolf. We couldn’t do it without you, and we wouldn’t want to.
No, REALLY, you have to accept that premise. Please don’t e-mail me, saying “I can’t believe Tracy holds his audience in such contempt.” I don’t hold you in contempt. I love you. I love you very much.
But I’m not writing about you, the 99% of you. I’m writing about YOU, the 1%. And I’m willing to wager the 99% know exactly who I’m talking about…
The Talkers: Now, I’ve talked myself, as an audience member. Sometimes I lean over and whisper, “Is that supposed to be his brother?” or some such clarifying question. And after receiving a short answer, I return my full attention to the stage. So this kind of talking doesn’t bother me as an actor. And yes, when I’m on stage, I can hear you, and I know what you’re saying, and I truly don’t mind it when you’re engaged in the story. But when I hear (actual examples): “She’s put on a lot of weight.” “Oh, it’s one of those ‘walking around’ plays.” “Stop touching my face.” “Where are we eating?”…well, let’s just say, if you said any of these things, you fall into the 1%, and I hate you.
The Cell Phone Users: How do the 1% of you who receive cell phone calls during a performance not yet realize what terrible people you are? Are you not bothered by how much the 99%, not to mention the actors, despise you? And in regards to the 1% of the 1% who actually ANSWER your phones? There is a special place in Hell for you.
The Snorers: All right, maybe WE share some of the blame in this regard. Chances are, if you’re falling asleep, the show simply isn’t engaging you. But I draw a line between those of you who aren’t captivated by our work and those of you who pass out in any dark room. I have some advice for those of you in the latter category: don’t come to the theatre. Go home and go to bed.
The Psychos: Granted, this is a small demographic. But every now and again, somebody flips out. In fact, we had a psycho at last night’s performance of Betrayal. She arrived late and was shocked to learn she would have to accept ‘late-comer’ seating. She stomped up some stairs, stomped down the stairs, threw a fit in the lobby, slammed a door on an usher, raced up some more stairs, and then talked to her friends as she watched the show. I heard all of this from the stage, of course, and I’m delighted to say her behavior was so rude to the extreme, she has been barred from future productions at our theatre. Get some counseling.
The Unwrappers: This one perplexes me. Unwrap your shit before the show starts. And do you actually believe that by unwrapping your shit SLOWLY you’re making less noise? You’re not. You’re making the same amount of noise, but for a longer period of time. And what the hell are you eating, anyway? Can you really not wait until intermission to eat your fucking beer nuts?
The Program Readers: I love the program. It’s one of my favorite elements of attending the theatre. You know when I love reading it? Before the show. At intermission. Or even later, at home, in my bathroom. You know when I don’t love reading it? While the performance is happening. Especially if I’m seated in the front row, and I know the actors can see me, and they’re aware I could care less about the performance happening in front of me. Because then they would hate me.
The Coughers: Here’s a tough one. You may not actually fall into the 1%. You may be part of the 99% (remember, this is the percentage of you that I love), and you have suddenly become seized with a need to cough. Hey, I understand. I have a heart. But if you happen to be ill, and in fact, cannot stop coughing before you even enter the theatre, try this: don’t come inside. Go home and go to bed. Your snoring spouse needs the sleep anyway. (Note to cough drop users: please read the above paragraph about the “unwrappers,” i.e. unwrap your shit before the show starts.)
The Inappropriate Laughers: We actors love laughers. We love laughs. We love knowing we have affected you in this way, that something about our little theatrical production has managed to tickle your funny bone. We love it because we know we are succcessful, if only for a moment, in transporting you from the humdrum worries of your day. We do NOT love, however, those of you (who fall into the 1%) who have decided to announce yourself to the audience with your laugh. Because here is what your laugh is saying: “Oh, I get this joke, and do you hear how I’m getting it? I’m telling you all that I have heard and understood this joke and you must know how I feel about the fact that I’ve gotten it. Can you hear me laughing? I’m sharing my laugh with all of you, and now you know who I am and how I feel about this wonderful joke that I have heard and understood.” Just…stop laughing. Just sit there, please. Or leave, and see if you can get cast on a reality show.
The Jewelry Janglers: You know those big hoopy bracelets that some women wear, and they jangle every time you move your arm? Don’t wear those.
The Stage Invaders: Don’t put your feet on the stage. Don’t put your program on the stage. Don’t rest your purse on the stage. Don’t sit on the stage. Don’t walk across the stage. Some of you 1%’ers may ask, “What is it, SACRED up there?” Yes.
The Early Exiters: Some of you 1% love to race for the exit during the curtain call, hoping to beat the rush to the parking lot. Guess what: it’s not Wrigley Field. You’ll still get out pretty quickly. Stay for the curtain call. Because we see you, you know, storming up the aisle, and we hate you.
Did I mention that I love 99% of you?
May 1st, 2007 at 9:13 am
well done.
May 1st, 2007 at 11:25 am
I have appeared periodically on stages – sometimes all alone, the only dude up there – and I have joined many audiences.
My ONLY criticism of Mr. Letts’ well-reasoned (and in my view too charitably observed) characterization of these poor souls who are ill-equipped to join the rest of us in a public place to share the many pleasures and pitfalls of the theater is that I think his math is off. I think we in what he calls the 99% who are drilling those others with our laser gaze in the darkness and remain powerless to dissuade them from their path would REJOICE if they only accounted for 1%.
I would peg that percentage at perhaps in the 2-3% range and growing. It seems, for all their deficiencies where communal civility is concerned, that they are breeding at a rate that substantially outpaces the rest of us. Like rabbits taking weapons-grade fertility drugs.
Maybe they’d be more attentive & lively if the actors were empowered to signal to front-of-house staff to stuff the offenders into duffel bags and hustle them out of the theater. With a crack squad, it could be done more quickly and quietly than say the unwrapping of a box of Sno Caps. Seems to work in Canada.
May 1st, 2007 at 11:47 am
Thank you, Tracy, for helping the 97% of us who are there to see you enjoy the performance more (and unfortunately, I do agree with Ian that you’re far too charitable).
As I noted on my blog, I was recently horrified when another the walkie-talkie feature on a fellow “patron” (I use that term loosely) sounded with a voice booming throughout the theatre. I can’t get over the disrespect that individuals show, not only for the rest of the audience, but also for actors.
Personally, I love the fact that I’m tuning out the rest of the world for a couple short hours so I may savor every moment of my theatrical experience. Thanks for the excellent post!
May 2nd, 2007 at 2:56 am
Bravo, bravo. Sometimes I wish that ushers could be issued with tasers to dissuade people from behaving like this, but I suppose it would be even more distracting from the stage to hear/see the results!
May 2nd, 2007 at 5:04 am
Well said, but I think it’s important that theatres make clear to audiences the standard of behaviour expected. The time has come for pre-show announcements, the banning of food in the auditorium, and enforcement of “no readmission” policies. At a recent performance of “Black Watch” in the UK it was made very clear that the show lasted 2 hours without interval and anyone leaving would not be allowed back in.
Back in February we felt the need to post our own “Guide to Polite Theatre Going” just to state what is and isn’t acceptable behaviour.
While throwing nuisance audience members out may not be easy, the interval should provide the perfect chance for them to be asked to leave.
View From The Stalls
May 2nd, 2007 at 1:56 pm
I agree with you, Tracy, and I have this recommendation to alleviate this problem in the future:
Theaters should hire a crack team of ushers to ferret out this one percent during performances. This elite squad could be made up of hungry young artists, ex-cons, anyone with a strong will and something to prove.
Equip this Etiquette Junta with small flashlights and very long canes to pluck out talkers, eaters, snorers, and the like, and give them $10 per offender captured.
Place these malefactors in a roped-off holding pen in the lobby for the remainder of the performance in which they may chat, nap, snack, unwrap, and wallow about in their misery. After the show, encourage the well-behaved patrons exiting the theater to hurl insults and crumpled-up programs at the wretched, wailing captives.
After the parking lot has closed for the evening and all the buses and trains have stopped running, turn these miscreants into the cold and unforgiving night.
May 2nd, 2007 at 2:45 pm
well said, Tracy. Thanks for taking a stand for the 99% of us and for keeping your posts to the blog so candid. They’re very fun to read.
May 3rd, 2007 at 12:27 pm
Tracy, my husband and I still tell the story of being at the performance of The Dresser during which you smoothly and efficiently kicked a 1-percenter’s program off the apron of the stage (I say “the performance” rather than “one of the performances” hoping against hope you only had to do that once). You were truly our hero at that moment.
May 11th, 2007 at 9:13 am
Thank you Tracy.
May 11th, 2007 at 10:28 am
Bravo, Tracy. Reminds me of the time Carmen Roman and I removed my screaming 3 year old from the theater. She learned quickly. Now, at age 14, my daughter is appalled at inappropriate theater-goers. Perhaps removal of those patrons acting like toddlers (definitely more like 3%) is the answer.