Just Like a Dog
posted by Manoel Felciano, cast member of Round and Round the Garden
Associate Artist Manoel Felciano plays Norman in A.C.T.’s production of Round and Round the Garden. He writes about his unique inspiration for Alan Ayckbourn’s endearingly lusty librarian.
Character inspiration can come from the unlikeliest of sources. As rehearsals began for Round and Round the Garden, I was struck by how much my character, Norman, is compared to a dog in Ayckbourn’s text. He is lovingly described, with his “aimless sort of beard,” as “an Old English sheepdog . . . all woolly and doubled ended.”
Norman’s long-suffering wife, Ruth, who knows him best, describes him as follows: “It’s a bit like owning an oversized unmanageable dog, being married to Norman. He’s not very well house-trained, he needs continual exercising—mental and physical—and it’s sensible to lock him up if you have visitors. Otherwise he mauls them. But I’d hate to be rid of him.”
Of his philandering ways, Ruth wryly remarks: “He only jumps at people who encourage him. It’s a general rule, if you don’t want him licking your face, don’t offer him little tidbits.”
Now, lucky for me, shortly before rehearsals began I adopted an old fuzzball of a dog named Beethoven (who, incidentally, was also known for his unruly hair). Suddenly I had the perfect role model. Beethoven’s fluffy fur slowly began appearing all over my house in the same way Norman’s eager, passionate, excitable presence leaves its mark on everyone and everything in the play.
Beethoven is always happy to see me, tail wagging, deep soulful eyes looking up at me. What I’ve learned is that he exhibits the exact same behavior to anybody (my doorman, people he meets on the street) who might provide some chicken, a biscuit, or even a pat on the head. I don’t begrudge him this, because I realize that, similarly, Norman loves whichever woman is in front of him deeply, truthfully, and completely. He truly lives “in the moment,” unencumbered by such pesky things as past, history, future, and repercussions. His desire and ability to make women happy overwhelms all else.
At the end of the day, Norman, like Beethoven, just wants to play, consume (make love or eat), and sleep. He cannot resist temptation in any of those areas, no matter the risk. Beethoven will charge heedlessly off a ledge in pursuit of a tasty little bite. Similarly, Norman can’t pull himself away from playfully toying with the unknowing Reg and Tom, his allies and rivals in the play, or seducing their respective paramours, even though such behavior invariably leads to trouble.
Much as the golden retriever in Pixar’s Up confesses, “I was hiding under your porch because I love you. Can I stay?” Norman confesses that he is, if nothing else, “full of love!” adding, “Anyone I love is automatically beautiful.” It seems like a childish and naive way to look at the world, and perhaps it is, but then why do Beethoven and Norman both manage so unabashedly to pull at our heartstrings? More power to them!
Associate Artist Manoel Felciano plays Norman in A.C.T.’s production of Round and Round the Garden. He writes about his unique inspiration for Alan Ayckbourn’s endearingly lusty librarian.
Character inspiration can come from the unlikeliest of sources. As rehearsals began for Round and Round the Garden, I was struck by how much my character, Norman, is compared to a dog in Ayckbourn’s text. He is lovingly described, with his “aimless sort of beard,” as “an Old English sheepdog . . . all woolly and doubled ended.”
Norman’s long-suffering wife, Ruth, who knows him best, describes him as follows: “It’s a bit like owning an oversized unmanageable dog, being married to Norman. He’s not very well house-trained, he needs continual exercising—mental and physical—and it’s sensible to lock him up if you have visitors. Otherwise he mauls them. But I’d hate to be rid of him.”
Of his philandering ways, Ruth wryly remarks: “He only jumps at people who encourage him. It’s a general rule, if you don’t want him licking your face, don’t offer him little tidbits.”
Now, lucky for me, shortly before rehearsals began I adopted an old fuzzball of a dog named Beethoven (who, incidentally, was also known for his unruly hair). Suddenly I had the perfect role model. Beethoven’s fluffy fur slowly began appearing all over my house in the same way Norman’s eager, passionate, excitable presence leaves its mark on everyone and everything in the play.
Beethoven is always happy to see me, tail wagging, deep soulful eyes looking up at me. What I’ve learned is that he exhibits the exact same behavior to anybody (my doorman, people he meets on the street) who might provide some chicken, a biscuit, or even a pat on the head. I don’t begrudge him this, because I realize that, similarly, Norman loves whichever woman is in front of him deeply, truthfully, and completely. He truly lives “in the moment,” unencumbered by such pesky things as past, history, future, and repercussions. His desire and ability to make women happy overwhelms all else.
At the end of the day, Norman, like Beethoven, just wants to play, consume (make love or eat), and sleep. He cannot resist temptation in any of those areas, no matter the risk. Beethoven will charge heedlessly off a ledge in pursuit of a tasty little bite. Similarly, Norman can’t pull himself away from playfully toying with the unknowing Reg and Tom, his allies and rivals in the play, or seducing their respective paramours, even though such behavior invariably leads to trouble.
Much as the golden retriever in Pixar’s Up confesses, “I was hiding under your porch because I love you. Can I stay?” Norman confesses that he is, if nothing else, “full of love!” adding, “Anyone I love is automatically beautiful.” It seems like a childish and naive way to look at the world, and perhaps it is, but then why do Beethoven and Norman both manage so unabashedly to pull at our heartstrings? More power to them!