Draper drama — Actors love fun, chaos of running community theater

On a Monday evening in the Draper Historic Theatre's lobby, more than an hour before the play begins, the smell of popcorn begins to fill the room. One after another, the actors arrive. Some wear makeup. Most are still in their street clothes.

It is a typical night at a typical community theater. A couple of the child actors are already in costume and are laughing as they trot up and down the dimly lit aisles. This production, "Singing in the Rain," calls for them to wear knickers and newsboy caps, and they appear to be frolicking carefully, so as not to lose their caps or smear their makeup.

The producer, Daidreann Wardle, stands behind the candy counter, her laptop computer flipped open. Wardle has a spare minute and she's decided to check her list to see which actors haven't returned their scripts. The production is nearing the end of its run. It's time for Wardle to mail the rented scripts back to the theatrical agency.

Earlier in the run, Wardle sewed a ripped costume, balanced the books and ran the lights. To be a producer means to know the entire operation, she says. This is Wardle's first time producing. She took the job because her husband and son love acting, and she wanted to spend time with them.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the counter, the director, Melanie Kieffer, talks on her cell phone, trying to track down a couple of actors who haven't shown up. A preschooler with a round face appears and wraps her arms around Kieffer's leg. She announces, "I have to go potty." Kieffer and the child, who turns out to be her niece, head toward the ladies room.

Next a woman named Vanessa Nelson comes in looking for a door. That's right, a door. Nelson used to own this theater, before it became a nonprofit, and she is still on the board of directors and also on the board of the Draper Arts Council. She's looking for a piece of scenery to loan to some other organization. Kieffer searches backstage, in vain, then hurries onto the stage to talk to a costumed actor who is setting up props for the first scene. It turns out he knows the location of the door.

At the same time, in the women's dressing room, one young actress applies rouge while she chats about her recent date, a guy who happens to be the brother of another actress. All the while, Chloe Wood, the high school senior who stars in the production, curls her hair and wishes aloud that her sister hadn't been too busy tonight to help her with the crimping iron.

Sitting on the floor in front of the mirror, Michele Rideout slathers her face with some gray-beige goop, explaining this is the stuff you put on when you are 40 and need to look 25. But it's also the stuff you put on when you are a teenager actress wanting a base on which to draw wrinkles so you can play a granny.