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.

When a fellow actress discovers, "I totally left my lashes at work," Rideout responds, "Guess what? I have four pair." She pulls out a brand new box of false eyelashes.

If you ask the actors what they love about community theater, they'll talk about camaraderie. They'll describe the moments of chaos and fun of making art together when no one's paid and everyone is willing to help out any way they can.

As for Justin Lafeen, the first time he acted at the Draper Historic Theatre, he was also working on his MBA. Lafeen decided to help out by drawing up a business plan for this little stage company. Now he's the acting head of the board of directors, and you can find him at the theater tonight willing to talk about the place.

Community theaters do so much for the community, Lafeen notes. They can draw together the generations, offering roles to young and old and presenting inexpensive entertainment for the whole family.

But community theaters never have enough money. And creative people dream big. Someone has to strike a balance between artistry and a viable business, Lafeen says. At any rate, the Draper Theatre's board of directors accepted many of his suggestions.

Lafeen suggested a binder for each job, with written descriptions of the duties. When you need a question answered and you want to know who to talk to, a more formal hierarchy saves time, Lafeen points out.

Eventually, the theater company also reduced the size of its board of directors. As Lafeen explains, when he first came to the Draper Theatre, there were 35 people on the board, which was every interested person in town. When those 35 people burned out, you'd have no one left to call.

Right now, Lafeen says, the theater is in the black. They never spend more than $8,000 or $9,000 per production.

Kieffer says keeping to the budget for "Singing in the Rain" was an extreme technical challenge. If they'd had a little more money, they might have come up with some special effects that looked like rain.

As it was, they projected drizzle-like flashes onto a screen. When it was time for the actor to dance in it, the rain disappeared. Kieffer says they often have to count on audience members being able to use their imaginations.

Luckily, many generations of Draper residents have enjoyed using their imaginations.