Sir Andrew Aguecheek is a jerkface.

 

Ok, no he isn’t.  He’s actually one of my new favourite people. His name is Jordan. And he’s quite a talented actor. But for the purposes of this post, he is a jerkface.

Before I launch into my serious thoughts on this production, I thought I would share this fun little moment from yesterday’s closing…

There is a lovely moment in I.iii of Twelfth Night when Sir Toby urges Sir Andrew to “accost” Maria, accost being “front her, board her, woo her, assail her.”  Eventually, Maria wins the battle of wits and walks out of the scene, getting the better of both of them…the exchange goes like this:

Andrew: Do you think you have fools in hand?
Maria:  Sir, I have not you by the hand.
Andrew:  Marry, but you shall have; and here’s my hand.
Maria: Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar and let it drink.
Andrew:  Wherefore, sweet-heart?  What’s your metaphor?
Maria: It’s dry, sir.
Andrew:  Why, I think so: I am not such an ass but I can keep my hand dry.  But what’s your jest?
Maria:  A dry jest, sir.
Andrew:  Are you full of them?
Maria:  Aye, sir, I have them at my fingers’ ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. (And she peaces out…yes, that’s Shakespeare’s stage direction)

So in our show on Sir Andrew’s second line, Jordan was supposed to take my hand, get down on his knee, and give it a kiss.  And throughout the run this turned into further molesting it until I stopped him—usually he would lick my arm.  We always had a playful little moment.  And then we carried on with the scene.

Until yesterday.

We got to our lovely little moment.  And the little shit kisses my hand, drops it, grabs my face, and plants a big one right on my lips.  And then he stands there looking at me with this giant, shit-eating grin on his face.

I am not generally caught off guard on stage, but he got me.  Good.  Really good.

I stood there shell shocked for a second, all flustered and glaring at him, walked over to Sir Toby, hit him (because obviously, within the world of the play, Maria would feel this was Toby’s fault…and it was even better because the actor playing Toby hadn’t seen what happened), walked back to Sir Andrew, stuck my finger in his face accusingly, and huffed and puffed for what felt like an eternity because I could not for the life of me figure out what the next line was.  Because it was about his hand.  Which I was no longer holding.  Because he grabbed my face and kissed me.  Which necessitated the letting go of my hand. Jerkface.

Eventually I figured it out, but not without cracking a tiny smile. I could’ve killed him.  I never go up on lines.  Although, I have been known to crack the occasional smile on stage…

Anyway, the audience never realized he wasn’t so much supposed to do that.  But the looks on my castmate’s faces (who were standing behind the audience and could see it all) were priceless.

These are the moments that make theatre fun.

And now Jordan and I have to do another show together so I can get him back…