Teahouse of the August Moon - Stories from the Attic

In our great attic clean-out, we came across several boxes full of keep-sakes - old photos and such. From those, I have mined some blog stories. Here's one based on some photos from the "College Days" box.

When I graduated from ACU, U.S. military involvement in Viet Nam was escalating dramatically. Enrolling in graduate school seemed a better choice at the time than enrolling in the military, so I signed up for a course called "Technical Problems of the Theater" which involved co-directing the Spring theater production. Shortly after enrolling, Kennedy exempted all married men from the draft, and I was working full time by then, so the graduate studies were short-lived, but the show must go on.

The production was Teahouse of the August Moon, John Patrick's Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award winning Broadway play; in 1956 it was made into a movie starring Marlon Brando, Glen Ford, Eddie Albert and Paul Ford.

If you are not familiar with the story, it is a gentle satire of U.S. military/civilian relations and the drive to Americanize the world. One year after World War II, Captain Fisby is sent to the village of Tobiki in Okinawa with orders to teach the people democracy. The first step of Plan B is to build a school -- but the wily Okinawans know what they really want.

They teach him about their culture and traditions, often counter to his expectations, and persuade him to build something they really want instead: a teahouse. Fisby, of course, succumbs to the laid-back island life - as do all the subsequent officers sent to find out what is going on with Plan B. Finally the Big Brass, Col. Purdy shows up, the truth comes out and the teahouse is ordered destroyed.

Immediately afterwards, Col. Purdy learns that the Pentagon thinks Teahouse Pacification is a wonderful idea, and a delegation is on the way to celebrate the success of a teahouse that no longer exists. The day is saved, of course, because the sly Okinawans had only pretended to destroy the teahouse. "Oh no, Boss. Only hide teahouse. We put it back quick."

Gary Ady, the other guy in the first picture (the woman is Jacqueline Taylor - the Assistant Director) directed the play for his Master's thesis. He cast the show, coordinated the interpretation of lines, composition, "stage business" and movements of the actors. My role was Technical Director; I designed the sets and the visual impact of the show, created the lighting scheme, chose props and costumes, and designed the backdrops. I had a wonderful crew to help carry all this out.

One of the props was a jeep. A real jeep. There was a kid on campus. Lynn Mullings, who had a vintage military type jeep and we talked him into loaning it to us for about 3 weeks. Not only that, he let us paint it Army color. We scientifically established that the stage was strong enough to support a jeep by looking into the sub-space through an access panel and saying, "Looks pretty stout. What do you think?" "Yea, let's do it." So we took out about 6 rows of seats, built a shaky ramp and fearless Lynn drove his jeep up onto the stage.

It's the part about "Oh no, Boss. Only hide teahouse. We put it back quick" that still gives me goosebumps. Lewis Fulks, the Director of ACU Theater at the time, required a model of all the sets and scenes; that's what Gary, Jacqueline and I are looking at in the picture - a model of the stage with the teahouse set. The vertical panels were free-standing, decorated with large white Styrofoam designs and gold reflective foil. The canopy was fabric, a rich red that draped over horizontal rods.

When it came time to "put it back quick," Sakini, the interpreter-scoundrel Okinawan in the play,  gave directions and the villagers scurried out with the vertical panels, the mats, tables, flowers, tea pots and cups, and when all was back in place, he clapped his hands and the canopy, previously hidden in the fly-loft, floated down and settled gracefully on the set. It got applause every time it happened.

May I, ahem, unabashedly quote from Patrick Bennet, Abilene Reporter News Amusements Editor's review: "Robert Anderson's sets, players and effects all joined smoothly to produce the fine product for which Lewis Fulks' shows are noted. Flawless."

There was another quote - from the play, itself. We repeated it often as we worked to put the show together:

"Pain make man think.

Thought make man wise.

Wisdom make life endurable."