Pantages Theatre, Toronto
It was hard to choose which stage story to tell about, for one way or another the stage has been part of my life since I can remember. Do I talk about sitting in the front row for the Young People’s Theatre season at the age of 9, not knowing whether to be more afraid of the sword swinging battles, or the saliva spraying soliloquies?
Maybe my most memorable stage moment is seeing the Phantom, then Ciaran Sheehan, fall from the twelve foot grave set and keep going with the scene, hurling his fireballs from all fours as he fought off the pain? Or perhaps the time I was doing improv and asked an audience member for a suggestion, only to see it was Mr. Whose Line himself, Colin Mochrie? We killed it that night.
Between acting, directing and working as an usher turned Front of House Manager for Mirvish Productions in Toronto, I’ve had my share of stage experiences. More highlights flash before my eyes, as if I was staring down the hood of an 18-wheeler headed my way.
The time Billy Crystal talked to the theatre staff about how important a pin drop quiet auditorium was to him for 700 Sundays, and then raved about respectful Toronto audiences on Letterman (boo ya we did it!); Mel Brooks climbing to the back of the mezzanine, to make sure the worst seat was still good, before we opened The Producers; feeling the rush when Brian May and Roger Taylor played the encore for We Will Rock You, even though it was a show I had grown tired of long prior; Paul Stanley bringing us Timbits (think donut holes) during his run as the Phantom; Colm Wilkinson telling me he loved my take on Threepenny Opera which I had directed; drilling the lid of a coffin shut with an audience member inside (yes, you read that correctly… there was a contest during Ghost Stories to survive the night in a coffin in the theatre, our job was to freak them out so they’d call chicken).
Alas, all of these moments were amazing, but there is one that stands out as the most important I have had in the theatre.
It was Christmas Eve, I don’t even remember what show. I was working then as usher captain, anxious to get home. The 2300 seat theatre was nearly clear, there was just one woman in a wheelchair waiting by the door. Wheel-Trans was due to pick her up, but running behind. I sent the last of the staff home and waited with her.
Time passed, and passed, and passed. Midnight approached. Inside I was almost in tears, having missed any chance of seeing family for the night, and wanting nothing more than to go home and enjoy the holiday.
Nonetheless, we talked, about all things: other shows, life in Toronto, the intensifying snow outside, and how beautiful the lobby spaces of The Pantages were, empty for all eyes but ours. The next thing I knew it was two in the morning, and she was finally being picked up. In that time I realized that it actually couldn’t have been a better Christmas. I got to have a conversation with a woman full of experiences, to whom I never would have spoken otherwise, and more importantly, I was able to be a friend to her when she had none.
That is the magic of theatre, the ability to affect someone on a meaningful level. It can happen from the work of the cast, the stagehands, the creative team, and even the front of house workers.
Jonathan Robbins is an actor, director, writer and Front of House Manager in Toronto, Canada.
Image credit: Jonathan Robbins