So, I’m popping my Beaver cherry.
…And with that, as many gauche and explicitly inappropriate references to the subject that I can make (or anyone else can, for that matter) will follow.
Children’s theater. For the Holidays.
…Friends I know run it. Friends I know do it. So I thought, “Whelp, at least there will be friends…that I know…in it.” Thus began my first venture into the world of children’s theater.
…Not that I haven’t done theater WITH children (for, I have), or performed FOR them in the past (Hello, ridiculous 9 am student matinees)…but this would be the first time I had ever began a show whose goal audience IS, “children.”
As one of a handful of actual adults in the upcoming “Lion, The Witch, & The Wardrobe,” I’ll be attempting to embrace the wholesome atmos being a good and wise example, (whilst little people are watching)…and making fun of it as wrongly as possible, when they are not.
Why?
…BECAUSE I’M PLAYING A FUCKING BEAVER.
(Totally different from a Beaver fucking, P.S. You can tell, because I’m a “Mrs.” That means there is a “Mr.” We already have two beaver kids, and everyone knows…sex after that for married mammals is non-existent. Which is prob’ly why they bicker so much in the script. Sex antagonism.)
…First off, the “Mr.” is out, TOTALLY ignoring them all by working on his damn dam all day. (A useful excuse if I ever heard one.) I mean, it’s been ice and snow in Narnia for like what…five generations or something? Am I right? What the hell is he daming up? There’s no stream flowing through there. There’s no mud to pack. Shit is FROZEN, bro. Has been forever. Prob’ly always WILL be. But yeah, you go out and keep “working” on that dam, dude.
…Meanwhile, the “Mrs” is stuck inside that frozen hut all day, dealing with never-hibernating children. Constantly hungry. Constantly cold. And housebound. Everyone’s all freaky-deaky about the White Witch and all her secret followers, so even sending the kids outside to play and get the hell outta your fur for five minutes is basically just inviting the Child Protective Services to come knocking on your hut, being all:
CPS Rep (prob’ly a Kangaroo): “Uh, yes, Ma’am…we have report of child neglect from a few of your neighboring Oak Trees and local Ground Covers. They feel very concerned that you aren’t taking proper precautions to the White Witch Warnings.”
Me: “Oh, really?”
Kangaroo: “Yes, Ma’am.”
Me: “Well, let me ask you this, Mr. Roo …or-whatever-the-hell-your-name-is…have you ever been in constant fucking demand in an ice-bound hut, with no ventilation for three decades, going on four…while early onset beavopause, hot flashes night and day…running off and on like a sunofabitch, as your body keeps packing on winter weight you’ll never lose the whole of your fucking life, non-stop, while your children scream at you all day long about how bored they are of eating twigs and frozen bark, and your husband is out, every day, futzing with some goddamn dam, useless as a tick on a dog, without so much as a stream trickle to keep at bay, as even his PISS freezes before it reaches the ice-packed ground?!”
Kangaroo: “Well…no. I can’t say that I have.”
Me: “Alright then!”
…So begins the character motivation work.
Now that we know the dynamics of “home life,” we can begin to delve into the curious fact of there being but TWO Beavers (and corresponding children) in all of Narnia to begin with…which begs answers to questions like, “where did we even come from?” And, “If it’s so shitty in there, why don’t we just leave? Cuz clearly everyone else did.”
…Not to mention the supremely convenient, total-rip-off-of-entire-character-existence, by J.K. Rowling, in this whole business.
Seriously.
Make us human and call us “Weasley.”
Think about it for a hot second.
We’re Bohemian, country bumpkins with weird accents . (Check.)
We are the natural defenders and protectors of the “Chosen One(s).” (Check.)
We are responsible for explaining all the main plot, concepts, and obstacles, to the completely ignorant main characters. (Check.)
Our home is demolished by evil bastards in vengeance. (Check)
Our kids are almost killed by a total mentally evil and fucked-up Witch. (Check.)
…Only real difference is, the Weasleys have super-awesome magical powers…while, as Beavers, we have…
…Buck teeth.
And…
Yep. I got nothin.’
Wow.
Did we get the shaft on that one, or what?
So…to round things up:
We are the only surviving animals in our class, left in this place of total frozen devastation, waiting indefinitely for a prophecy to come true, which if/when it DOES, will mean CERTAIN war…which we will fight, with the use of nothing.
Good plan.
Totally logical.
Don’t see how it could POSSIBLY fail.
…I mean, it’s like work here at the office, really, when you think about it.
Frozen wasteland of crap, surrounded in devastation.
…And look how well THAT turned out for us!
~D
