Theater troupe's acting marathon tests cast's mettle

About 4:30 a.m., Bradley Wrenn knew his fellow cast members needed a lift: They had been acting for nearly nine hours straight - and had 15 more to go.

So he scrapped his fireman's uniform and came out on stage in a thong.

"I decided I should match that," said fellow cast member Gwendolyn Rooker.

Out she came sans maid costume, in just a bra and panties.

And so it went at Plays & Players Theatre in Center City on Saturday, where Brat Productions staged a 24-hour version of The Bald Soprano.

The six-member cast repeated the play 24 consecutive times - with a few twists here and there, such as losing their clothes to keep the audience on their toes and to get a reaction from their fellow actors.

The play, an absurd comedy by Eugene Ionesco first produced in 1950, features two couples - and the fireman and maid - caught up in mindless exchanges and poor communication.

Turning it into the marathon "A 24-Hour The Bald Soprano" was the idea of Brat co-artistic director Madi Distefano. It was the fourth time Brat held the production.

It was designed to put young actors "through a test of endurance that they'll never forget," Distefano said.

The idea met with enthusiasm from the audience, which came and went throughout the 24 hours. Some viewers brought pillows and sleeping bags and set up in the balcony. About 500 passed through.

"There's like this buzz. It's exciting for everybody involved," said Joe Matyas, 25, who watched from 10 p.m. to 3 a.m., then returned from 10:45 a.m. until 3 p.m.

Some became so familiar with the script that they shouted out words if an actor hesitated. That was in the plan.

"Leaving a word out and hoping maybe someone in the audience will shout it out is good," Distefano said. "It's engagement. It's involvement. The whole play is about the breakdown of the English language."

Distefano communicated with the actors via text messages, reeling them in if the performance became "wackadoo for wackadoo's sake."

"I try to remind them it's about pain and search for communication, and suppressed human desires," she said.

Making the show particularly challenging, the two couples switched parts at the top of every hour.

About 3 p.m. Saturday - when all the cast members already had been awake for well more than 24 hours - they said they had made it through the toughest time, early morning.

Things were dragging when Wrenn and Rooker, who had longer breaks between stage appearances than the other cast members, decided to shed their clothes.

"The real emphasis is to try to keep them - the other four - awake and alive. It's really, really hard what they're doing," Wrenn said. "They're pretty much constantly on stage."

Wrenn, 31, of South Philadelphia, brought a dog on stage for one performance. In another, about 2 a.m., he wore his bright red "Berserker" uniform from his local theater group, "The Berserkers."

Cast members spontaneously referred to him as "Mr. Berserker" for that performance.

Yet another time, he donned a scary mask.

Rooker, 33, of Center City, came out on roller skates once.

It was all in the plan - except for the 11 a.m. show, when an actor due on stage went missing, briefly.

"He was in the bathroom and missed his entrance," said general manager Melissa Rodis.

"I thought we didn't let them pee," kidded the ticket-taker.

Five hours before the end, the actors said they were exhausted but holding up, thanks to the interaction with the audience, which was expected to build again at the end and buoy the cast.

"I feel good," Rooker said, "but I think the costume is probably feeling it."