The rap Lynn gives before the gig, or at a rehearsal if we were ever to have one.
Hold your horses. I know those paper bags are interesting. But first we do the walk-through. Then we kit up. Then we go. This isn't about kit--not yet. So, here's your chapbook script. First, face the audience and stand in a close half-circle. This is where you are when you're not speaking--you're scenery.
Our chief weapon is: SURPRISE! Make a big entrance. Seize the stage with your "In Comes I" speech, then bring on the next player. When you are not speaking, step to the back of the stage area and become scenery. When you have lines, step up to the center. If you are in a dialogue with another player, "cheat" towards the audience, and don't forget the audience behind you. Play to the whole room, or to the whole street.
USE YOUR VOICE! Speak clearly, with feeling, and take your time. Especially outdoors, people will hear and enjoy you better the more you can PROJECT! Ham it up, live it large, lay it on thick. Overplay it. If it's too much, someone will tell you later, and someone else will tell you they loved it. Enjoy the words. When someone else is speaking, REACT. Listen with your whole body, so the audience can see it. Cheer the hero. Hiss and boo the bad guy. Quack the doctor. But don't drown out the player with the lines--in a minute, that will be you.
Keep your eye on the plot. People come in. There's a challenge. Then a fight. Someone dies. They get revived. All sing. That's it. (For the hero-combat plays---wooing plays are another story, but we'll get to those later.) Anyway, keep the focus on the action. If someone stalls or muffs a line, cover for them with an ad lib. If someone ad libs over your line, take it back and get a laugh. Stepping on someone's line is better than dead air. If you get stepped on, take back the focus and play it up.
When you don't have center stage, you can keep the play moving. Room and Fr Xmas are good characters for fooling the audience; Horse and Driver can play the space for physical comedy; anyone can (and should) react to the fight with exaggerated emotion. Energetic interplay can really make a play crack along; overdoing it can kill it with confusion. To keep it balanced, WATCH THE PLOT. Literally. Keep your eyes on whoever's got the ball.
The ball is the focus of the audience. When you enter, you catch the ball. Whenever your role is center stage, you have the ball. When the next person enters, you toss them the ball. When you're in a dialogue, you're trading off the ball. Mumming is kind of like volleyball: keep the ball in the air, back and forth over the net, never hit the ground. Actually, it's more like group hacky sack, because you're all playing the same team. You can control the ball by looking at it, literally. WATCH whoever's up, and be ready to grab, pass, or catch the ball.
We don't rehearse. Right? So, how do we do a sword fight without whacking someone? We script it. So, here it is.
There's a little fight cheer that goes with this. It goes: G-E-O! R-G-E! Sa-aint GEORGE! Sa-aint GEORGE! Gooooo, GEORGE! If you do this more than once, the audience will catch on, and by the time you get to the third round, you will have the entire room cheerleading the combatants. How many times you do The Fight depends on the play, but dynamic repetition is a Good Thing.
The villain, and sometimes other characters, will die onstage. If you cannot fall to the ground and get up again (for example, if you have bad knees like the Squire) then let us know and we'll trade you with someone who can. When the hero runs you through, DIE. Fall down dead. Make it quick. (Feet in the air, then flop, is funny if it's fast.) Then lie there. In a mummer's play, this is the hero's big moment, so don't upstage him/her with a lingering death. As the villain, your big moment comes when you are revived. NOW you can make a big deal of clambering slowly to your feet, wailing about your back (when this is in the script), and being the focus.
For the closing song, step back into the semicircle and stay close together, shoulders touching. If space is tight, tall people in back, shorter ones in front and take off your hats. The song is a thank-you-and-goodbye, not a concert, so keep it short, sweet, and snappy.
If we are going to bag, you'll be told before the gig. (If you don't know, ask.) As the song closes, TAKE OFF YOUR HAT, grin, and make eye contact with the audience. Lynn or the designated bagman will make the pitch, and that's your cue to pass the hat. If you get bills, you can usually put the hat back on your head. For change, find whoever has a prop that will hold coins (a mug, a purse, a pan) and put them in there, or just hang on to your hat. Smile and make eye contact as you pass the hat, and for anyone who shakes their head, pass over with a smile. This is a luck-bringing ritual, not a shakedown, and contributing to the bag is always the donor's choice.
Lynn: "WASSAIL!"
You: "WASSAIL!"
Lynn: "We are the Paper Bag Mummers of Waltham, Massachusetts, and our motto is..."
You: "We never rehearse, we only perform!"
Then RUN. Clear the stage. Scram. Get outta Dodge. Leave 'em asking, "Who WERE those masked mummers?"
Everyone gets a paper-bag tabard and a mask. Put both of them on with the paper-bag fringe side out. There are special masks for glasses, with one large eye hole; they work better if you put on the mask, then the glasses over them.
Some characters also get character hats. If you don't get a character hat, take a paper bag hat. Each character gets one hand prop. If you're reading this, most gig pages have a list of what hand prop your character gets. If you get something different than the webpage says, don't argue--this is improv, remember? Don't try to handle more than one prop; you will need the other hand for your chapbook.
Got your kit? OK. Line up in entrance order. DO NOT LET THEM SEE YOU! Remember, our chief weapon is surprise. Try not to rustle. Got the right page? Ready? Here we go.
Room, room, brave gallants all!