Big Fish: Big Deal - Heber’s Ideal Playhouse
"A man tells the same story so many times that he ultimately becomes the story” - Edward Bloom, Big Fish
Whenever I think of Heber City, UT, I’m immediately transported back in time to when my father would take us to Dairy Keen for a burger and a shake on the way home from a semi-annual fishing trip.
However, in my adulthood, I have found it much harder to be emotionally anchored to a location or event like I used to be. That’s why, I find it worthwhile to mention a recent instance in which my soul felt “anchored” to a place ironically nestled in the heart of Heber.
Just two minutes off the Provo Canyon highway, and situated perfectly on Heber’s Main Street, sits an old theater by the name of: “The Ideal Playhouse.”
Brooklynn and I recently visited this theater for a romantic getaway and break from our restless 1-year-old. There, we had the opportunity to watch the musical Big Fish in its full glory.
With a cast of 13 and a theater built in 1914, I was not expecting to be as thoroughly entertained as I was. Immediately after I sat down and waited for the show to begin, I observed digital decorations on the walls surrounding us and the cyc wall behind the stage. I was further impressed when those screens created rolling hills, castle walls, and flowing rivers.
In every sense of the word, we were immersed in the experience. In fact—sticking with the topic of my interest over the set design—one of my favorite details of the setting itself was the flowing river they built in the first row of the auditorium. The characters of the musical frequently threw items in and even “swam” in this portion of the set. For me, it created the sense that the audience was both physically and metaphorically there to consume what the cast had to offer (and something you ought to know about me is that this is one of my favorite things a production company does).
I believe that the audience is the most important part of the show. If you have no audience, you have no story. For what is a story without someone to listen to it? So, to watch the cast, director’s decisions, and stage hands reflect the importance of their audience, it was hard not to feel a sort of magic about the show.
In fact, as I watched Edward Bloom tell his son his extraneous stories, I was immersed in my own imagination and found myself picturing Edward conversing with a witch about how he’ll eventually die. The lead actor's performance convinced me of the truthfulness of Edward’s story even before they rolled out the set and actually showed me his interaction with the old hag.
Similarly, I found myself taking sides with Will when his father seemed to make lighthearted remarks about a past full of complexities or when his father continually brushed over the fact that he was gone so often in Will’s childhood.
On all counts, the Bloom family actors convinced me that they were actually a family full of problems. I even watched their expressions and mini interactions with other characters when they were not delivering lines and was just as fooled.
Throughout the course of the story, I loved watching Edward Bloom touch the hearts of townspeople, high school peers, and entertainers seeking meaningful lives. I know that many of the stories of his time as a traveling salesman were hyperbolic, but I got the sense—with the help of the cast—that Edward’s impact was never exaggerated.
Additionally, there were multiple times I wondered if the actors and actresses were actually related or actually married. I was dumbfounded on many counts as to how the cast emanated the sense of a community. And this is really saying something because I have watched productions before where I wondered if the leads had just finished an argument backstage.
As the musical progressed, I was CONTINUALLY surprised by the ability of this community theater to portray the story of Big Fish. This has quickly become one of my favorite stories and I wouldn’t have it any other way than for it to be done right. This intimate cast each took on multiple roles and contributed vocally to embedding the story of an exaggerating father trying to connect with his skeptical son into the audience’s hearts. The music was catchy and I found myself singing a few of the songs on my drive home (which I considered to be worthy “last words” given the fact that I could have hydroplaned on the rainy canyon roads at any minute). The sense of urgency was apparent and I never wanted to look away from the stage in fear that I might miss something. The good name of theatrics was kept intact and I watched the cast solve different problems that arrived while they were performing.
At the end of the show, one of the lead actors invited me and my wife on a tour of the theater and showed us around backstage. Upon surveilling the scene, I was significantly shocked that the impressive production I had just watched was born from a space not 40 feet wide and 20 feet deep. The space was no bigger than my childhood garage and yet these actors and stage hands were able to pull “rabbit” after “rabbit” out of their one hundred and twelve-year-old tophat.
This magic was so noticeable in fact, that after I asked the youngest actor what his favorite part about being in the show was, he told me that it was running around the building after his scenes and watching the production from the back. Now, I know this may not be considered “proper acting adequate," but I was taken aback after he said that. Big Fish held so much significance that even the actors that have been rehearsing it and performing it for weeks still want to watch it!
Essentially, I could tell—both in watching it and receiving statements about it—that Big Fish was an expression and a plea for the love of art as much as it was an entertaining presentable. In the film adaptation of this musical, Edward Bloom (the leading protagonist) states: “A man tells the same story so many times that he ultimately becomes the story.” It didn’t matter who I talked to after the show had concluded, I felt like each and everyone of these performers had become the story and the story was worth telling. In fact, Big Fish itself is a BIG DEAL. When Will finally learned that his father Edward wanted to spark his imagination and help his son respect him even though he was on the road for work so often, I learned it too. Even though I’ve seen this story play out, The Ideal Playhouse cast gave it to me with handfuls of surprises: Carl(the giant) was 6’7’’ before he stood on stilts, the stage tech would crawl through two-foot wide trapdoors hidden from the audience to deliver props and escort mermaids into the river set, the rough-and-tumble bully would pick up characters and carry them, and Edward Bloom played both his older and younger version of himself. I was blown away by their creativity!
Regarding this, I asked James Longhurst, the actor who played adult Will in Heber’s production, why telling this story was important to him. He said: “I want the audience to feel the wonder and grandeur of Edward's stories but I also want them to feel the emotional heart of the story—which is the conflict between him and his son. Yes it's a fantastical show about storytelling but I hope people feel the importance of family ties as well. To me that's the most magical part of the show actually: that in the end it's about life, death, marriage, and children, not just mermaids and giants.” I can confidently say that the production I watched at The Ideal Playhouse did just that. It gave me the courage to acknowledge when I need to play in a more lighthearted manner with my child or when I need to have necessary conversions that I wouldn’t naturally want to have. It taught me that stories are worth sharing and lives are worth changing. And a cast of 13 talented individuals working on a quaint old stage brought me to tears as they instigated precisely that.
If that isn’t incentive to come and witness such a feat, I don’t know what is.
I must admit that I'm a sucker for productions at Hale Center Theater and Ballet West, but I’ll boldly witness to you, in writing, that nothing beats the warmth and comfort of a “home-cooked meal.” And though I was not consuming my mother’s chicken alfredo, I was consuming Heber’s prime entertainment and I was warm and comforted in every sense of the word. All thanks to The Ideal Playhouse.
If you want to see what I saw, you’ve only got three more chances to do so. Get a ticket and help fill the seats of a sorely underestimated theater:
- Cale K. Montoya
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