Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to play the lead, to rule those weathered planks (for I have nearly forgotten); instead, I find myself Rosencrantz (or Guildenstern), Basilio, the Fool, Wilmer Cook, Tom Hagen, Spoletta—lurking by the wings, obscured by curtains, only appearing when called on and then slipping back into the dark murk of insignificance.
Oh, to stand on those weathered boards, to stay and command that silv'ry light; to the prince, the count, the old king, the detective, the don, the painter. But instead, I take my bows early and then retire to the side to smatterings of applause; the roar of the crowd is reserved for those more central, more vital, more significant. I play my parts as best I can, but the roles grow weary and feel as if they could be played by another with no consequence.
Perhaps I am merely a player who has but an hour to strut and fret upon this stage, but this poor player wants more lines. A lot more.
very nicely done.
Then maybe you should audition more; shmooze the producers; make friends with the other actors; and when your strutting hour comes, be not afraid of the planks, of the stares, of the lights so bright, and give it more than all of you - own that stage, that space not as small as you think, and when you bow out do so with so much majesty that they will call you back again and again, and you will know how consequent, formidable you are.
Because, you know, you are.
Try sleeping with the deep pocket.
I didn't, and look where my career went. >;-p
Yeah, but don't forget that it's always the minor characters who are much more interesting. And it's the character actors who always have the longest filmographies.