Still Time to Catch My Man Godfrey @ Theater Schmeater

Pictured: Eric Smiley, Teri Lazzara, Sarah Karnes
Pictured: Eric Smiley, Teri Lazzara, Sarah Karnes

Audiences are laughing their way through My Man Godfrey, and you should join them! There are only two more weekends left to catch this rare classic screwball comedy.

Here are a few of the reviews so far:

“Directed by Doug Staley, this show was beautifully set and costumed, and the theater was full of eager patrons. This madcap rom-com whipped the audience up into fits of laughter throughout the play. The performances of Alysha Curry as Molly the maid, Sarah Karnes as Irene Bullock, and Teri Lazzara as Angelica Bullock all displayed quick comedic timing and attention to detail that kept the audience laughing all night. Between the costumes and the drinks, the jokes and the jewelry, this production was certainly a party.” – Drama in the Hood

“Sarah Karnes’ portrayal of the bratty, diluted Irene is a delight. Teri Lazzara brings sauciness to the flighty Angelica Bullock. As her piggish “protégé” Carlo, Lantz Wagner is so dramatic in a really entertaining way. Terrence Boyd’s Alexander Bullock was an enjoyable victim of circumstance.” – BroadwayWorldSeattle



Up Next: My Man Godfrey @ The Schmee

Turns out one of my favorite movies of all time, My Man Godfrey (starring William Powell and Carole Lombard) is also a play, and I am beyond excited to share with you that I will be playing Irene Bullock in Theater Schmeater’s upcoming production of My Man Godfrey (directed by Doug Staley).

Most people have never heard of this gem of a film, which is unfortunate. I quote this movie on a regular basis and have since high school. If, as of yet, my recommendation to see this movie has gone unheeded, you now have an even better excuse to see it. There are literally eight full versions of the movie uploaded on YouTube. Go watch it, and then come see the show.

January 27-February 18th at 8pm
Theater Schmeater


See you at the Schmee!

Up Next: Challenger

Come April, I will portray Teacher-in-Space Christa McAuliffe in the Seattle premier of Challenger. Originally devised by a student ensemble at Central Washington University, Challenger is a six-woman show that tells the story of the shuttle disaster and aftermath as a unique ensemble piece.

January 28th marked the 30th anniversary of the disaster, and this show in memoriam will be a moving tribute to the crew who lost their lives in 1986, while also serving as a poignant reminder that in the face of disaster, we must continue looking to the stars.
Click here for more information.

We are also in the middle of a GoFundMe campaign to take care of the rest of our expenses and help Rocket Theatre Lab continue its good work after the show closes. If you can give, even just a few dollars, we would greatly appreciate it. Your support makes shows like ours possible. Donate here.

Plays at The Pocket Theatre – TICKETS
Thursday, April 7, @ 7pm
Friday, April 8 @ 10pm
Friday April 15 @ 10pm
Saturday, April 16 @10pm

Lizard Boy – A Belated Non-Review

I’ve been working on this piece in between work and rehearsals for a few weeks now, trying to determine exactly what I want to say about Seattle Repertory Theatre’s production of Lizard Boy. I could wax philosophic about how we can each be the hero in our own lives. I could warn against Fear, the quiet villain, whose power to keep us comfortable cripples. I could draw a parallel between Huertas’ childhood dreams of being Spiderman to my childhood dreams of being Batman (true dat). I could rant on the need to revitalize our ability to suspend disbelief, etc. I could easily write about any of those things. In fact, I already have full paragraphs about them, but they don’t accurately express my feelings. So, here goes my final attempt:

Once upon a time, the late Jerry Manning asked Justin Huertas to write a play. So Justin Huertas did. Then he doused the play with music and dragon blood, and it turned into a superhero.

This is not a review.There may be spoilers and unexplained references. There will not be a synopsis or summary of the plot, character analysis, or background information. If you want those things, check out the many articles, reviews, interviews, etc. written about the show: I’m helpful, so here’s a link. Instead, this is a fan letter, of sorts. A thank you card sent after receiving an awesome gift. This is unabashed applause, praise, and a city-wide shout for an encore.

The first time I saw Lizard Boy was as a volunteer usher, and I sat in the balcony. I had heard great things about the show, but I really didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t long before I was laughing with and relating to Huertas’ Trevor. He was someone I recognized. A semi-fictional rendition of people I know. And as he tried to decide on his dating app profile header, “looking for now” – because he was only looking for a moment (y’know, for now), I thought, “Oh yeah, this is my sense of humor.” Then Siren exchanged Trevor’s cell with a ukulele and Trevor seamlessly continued using it, seguing into an IM conversation with dueling instruments, and I thought, “Yesssssssssssss.” Eloquent, I know. But it was at that moment that I knew I was witnessing something rare, something unafraid to be truly inventive, while also being truly real.

Let me explain. Trevor, Carey, and yes, even Siren to a degree, are all versions of people I know. So much so that it actually astounded me as I sat in the audience. “Hey, don’t I know that guy? I think I know that guy.” Sure, the story is about a burgeoning superhero – a scaly local origin story – but it’s told with a cast of characters you would find walking down any street in the city. It’s told through conversations you would overhear in any corner coffee shop. Isn’t that what theatre is supposed to be? Real people and real conversations in fictional environments. Truth in the moment even when the moment involves a rock-star murderess with telekinetic, telepathic, siren-song powers.

The second time I saw Lizard Boy, I got $5 tickets with a friend, and we sat in the front row. In Seattle’s Leo K. Theatre, the front row  is, as my friend put it, “…a cockroach’s-eye view.” But from our up close and personal seats, I could see things I hadn’t seen the first time, and I don’t just mean Justin Huertas’ back molars. I could see the work made effortless, the changes in the actors’ eyes as they moved inside the minds of their characters, the tears on Kirsten deLohr Helland’s cheeks. I could feel the choreography, both physical and emotional. And when Trevor, Carey, and Siren grabbed their instruments, plopped criss-cross-applesauce down center (aka our laps), and sang us the story of the Lizard Boy of Point Defiance, I felt like a kid around a campfire, caught up in a scary story, giddy as all get-out. That night was also the anniversary of Jerry Manning’s passing, making it all the more meaningful, especially to the actors who had worked so enviously close to him. After the show, Justin Huertas, William A. Williams, and Kirsten deLohr Helland took the stage once more to pay him tribute. They sang a cut song from the show, one Jerry had loved, called “Old Man.” With tears in my eyes, the night was complete.

Though it’s been a few weeks since the show closed, I would like to say thank you to the Cast, Crew, and Production Team of Lizard Boy. Thank you for putting a huge smile on my face. Thank you for your crystal clear dedication and devotion. Thank you for reminding us what theatre is supposed to be, for sharing truth in the moment, and for sparking our imaginations with your energy. You’ve reminded us that we are our own protagonists, and we have to decide whether or not to be the villain or the hero on a daily basis. Your work was a concert, a dance, a master class in ensemble theatre. Please come back. Please show us more. Because we’ve fallen in love with the boy who looks like a lizard.


Here’s to You

We closed The Drowsy Chaperone last night. I am sad to see that show end, but I woke up this morning to find a heartfelt note from a couple that saw the show last night and The Sound of Music the night before. Here are their kind words:

“Hello Sarah….

Greatly enjoyed your Trix performance last night as well as Schraeder the night before. Great stage presence and a fun transformation between the two very different roles. What really blew us away was the unexpected the “bigness” of your voice, in particular after the sub-dued and classy role in “Sound..” Congrats and many thanks. You are a great talent.

We are visiting from NY which we do a couple of times. . . . Do keep us posted of you upcoming roles and we’ll be on the look-out. Next visit to Seattle will be Christmas later this year. And should you be in NY.,…

All the best, Karin & Al”

Thank you, Karin and Al. Your kind words have lifted my spirits, encouraged me during this week of endings, and reminded me that I have many people to thank.  Most of those people I can talk to, keep in touch with, hug. But there is one group that I cannot reach so personally: the audience.

I hope that some of you who came out to see our shows this summer will find this note and know that you were just as much a part of our summer as anyone in the cast and crew. Five nights out of the week for two months, you showed up, supported the arts, and shared this beautiful summer with us. I’m sorry that I only got to meet a few of you and thank you in person. I’ll never forget the small family that spent a weekend introducing their young children to live theatre or the people that took the time to remember my name and thank me personally. You have overwhelmed me in the best sense.

So, here’s to you. To your handshakes, your laughter, your warmth, your jokes, your reactions, your applause, your ovations, and your smiles. To each of you, thank you for allowing us to be a part of your memories. It means more than you can know. And as you exit the theatre these last few nights with “thank you” on your lips, I say from the deepness of my heart, it has been a pleasure.