JB Top 5's: Liquid Relief

Incredibly, after a nearly four-year run, Jersey Boys Australia will take its final bow in about two weeks. One of the world's most successful musicals in decades has certainly been a hit Down Under, as it has around the world. And for me, this will mark the third time I will be saying "Bye Bye, Baby" to the show. Will it be for good this time? Who knows.

      Facing another closing night has inspired me to look back and examine my time with this show. And because I think you might find it interesting, I've decided to share some of these thoughts with you. Specifically, my goal is to put into words exactly what it's like to be an actor playing this iconic person in this famous band in this amazing show, in another Country, six nights a week. 

      This is Part 4 of an on-going series of Top 5’s that illuminate what it’s like to play ‘Frankie Valli’ in the long-running show, Jersey Boys. Part 1 is the Top5 moments that make my heart soar, Part 2 is the Top 5 moments that make my heart ache, and Part 3 is my Top 5 daily must-dos.

      You can find Parts 1 and 2 to the right of this page, by clicking on 2013, then clicking on ‘May’. Part 3 is on the right, under ‘June’.

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Today's Subject: The Top 5 Moments of Liquid Relief

For the next couple JB Top 5’s I want to do something a bit cheeky, to use a common Aussie expression. I'm going to lift the curtain for you a bit, and reveal a few of the fun details about how we make the show work.

I mentioned in Part 3 of the JB Top 5’s that in order to keep my vocal chords in the optimal condition for the onslaught of singing and speaking, I drink a bladder-busting 2-3L of water while at the theatre. Well, I lied – sort of. It’s not all water that I drink. And some of it happens right before your eyes, onstage.

Why do I drink so much? First, there's the two and half hours of highly energetic singing, acting and dancing. But on top of that, theatres themselves are super dry places. In every theatre I’ve ever worked in, the backstage area is a massive space which in itself is hard to humidify. Then, they're blasted with Air Conditioning and filled with tonnes of electrical, sound and lighting equipment, zapping the air of what's left of its humidity. Less humidity equals dryer throats. Not good.

Jersey Boys is the fastest-paced show I’ve ever done, by a whole lot. It’s so fast, none of us have time to run to the water jug and pour ourselves a paper cup-full. Most of the cast are too busy running around, whipping off costumes and changing wigs while simultaneously singing background harmonies to boot. (You think I'm kidding? Think again.) This is why we all have a refillable water bottle positioned at our costume rack, so we can grab a quick drink while changing costumes. We also have a team of dressers backstage to help us do our faster costume changes, and they will often ‘travel’ the water bottle to you if there isn’t even enough time to make it to your costume rack, which you have to admit is pretty awesome, right?

“But wait a second,” you might say, “I saw the show and there’s lots of drinks onstage. Isn’t that enough?” Well, smarty-pants, most of the drinks you see onstage in Jersey Boys are not actually real. It's the magic of the theatre, sweetheart. That 'cocktail' you see is actually coloured water in a plastic glass which has been sealed with a plastic lid. I'm particularly fond of the "on the rocks" drinks we use, with the fake plastic ice cubes are sealed in, too. In other scenes, the ‘liquids’ themselves are not even liquid. For example, Crewe's glass of "milk" is a delicious combination of paint and plaster, and the schooners of 'draft beer' are actually molded plastic - unmovable, unspillable, and unbreakable (not to mention undrinkable).

The reality is that using actual liquids onstage can be dangerous in many ways, especially in a fast-moving musical. A drink could easily fall to the floor, which besides signaling an obvious mistake to the audience, it would make the stage dangerously slippery. Or the liquid could simply spill onto the actors, which could stain and possibly ruin someone's costume or shoes. And if a glass fell to the floor and broke into many sharp pieces, that would surely spell disaster. Nobody wants to see that.

But, in spite of these and so many other reasons, we occasionally take the risk and use real liquids in Jersey Boys. Why? Sometimes, when scenes are 'smash-cut' right into other scenes again and again, we’ll get stranded onstage for long periods of time, unable to quench our thirst before singing a big number. Luckily for us, the original creative team figured out a way to get us some liquids onstage just when we need it most. Here are Top 5 places during the show that I get me some liquid relief.

  1. On Crewe’s Couch.

My first onstage drink occurs in Act 1 during Bob’s season, “Spring”. We're enjoying a celebratory ‘shot’ with Bob Crewe, rejoicing in the fact that we’ve got the money together for our first recording session. The ‘shot’, which I assume is meant to be whiskey (Canadian Club, perhaps?) is a delicious room-temperature Iced Tea, and it perfectly whet’s the whistle for the next section leading up to the Big Three, ‘Sherry’, ‘Big Girls Don’t Cry’ and ‘Walk Like A Man’. Hmm, maybe drinking the Iced Tea is the secret for hitting all those high notes...

The photo below is of the original Chicago cast - that's Dominic Scaglioni as Frankie and fellow Canadian Jeremy Kushnier as Tommy. A good friend of mine, Jeremy was also the original Tommy in Toronto. In the moment captured below, you can tell he's very upset that he didn't get any Iced Tea, too.

                                                                                                            (Photo by Craig Laurie )

         2. In Gyp’s Basement.

In the dramatic ‘Sitdown’ scene early in Act 2, the four of us head into Gyp’s basement with loan-shark Norm Waxman to broker a deal to settle Tommy’s debt. In a stroke of luck, Gyp has thoughtfully provided us with some nice Italian Red Wine on the table. Unluckily for us, it’s not actually wine, but a very sweet grape juice. Welch's, I think. Whatever it is, it’s a welcome way for me to keep my voice hydrated in the middle of what’s probably a 30-minute stretch of singing and acting without exiting the stage. Hmm, maybe drinking Welches makes me belt better ...

In this tense photo below of the 2nd US National Tour, Nick is asking Gyp for some more Welch's, but no one moves a muscle.

                                                                                                               (Photo by Joan Marcus)

         3. In The Diner.

About 15 minutes later, there’s an awesome scene in a Diner where Bob tells Frankie that he’s also leaving the group, and tries to convince Frankie that things will work better this way. I love that scene for so many reasons. First, it really shows the depth of their relationship and highlights not only Bob’s intelligence but also his understanding of Frankie. Secondly, it shows Frankie having a rare moment of vulnerability, briefly opening up a softer side by confiding in Bob his fears and distressed feelings. And the scene manages all this in a believable way, with a nice dose of humour to boot. One other touch I love (although I only know it exists because I’ve seen it as an audience member – it literally happens silently behind my back) is when the waitress and bus boy overhear us talking and realize that they are actually in the presence of ‘celebrities’. Major kudos go to writers Marshall Brickman, Rick Elice and director Des McAnuff for this scene. 

Oh – and there’s one last great thing I love about this scene - I get to drink some more of that delicious room-temperature Iced Tea, just enough to keep the chords moist for the next ten minutes or so. Much to Bob's surprise, it makes me so happy that I get up and do a Happy Dance, which is captured in this rare archival photo below.

         4. On The Spiral Staircase.

Later on in Act 2 during the "Winter-of-my-discontent" section, in a 90-second burst of energy I sing ‘Mary-Ann’, blast out a monologue setting up a scene between Bob and the record company executives, and finally head up the spiral staircase to catch my breath, out of the light. Luckily for me, there is a little ledge hidden near the top of the staircase with a tiny Frankie-sized water bottle just waiting to be used. 

In those few seconds before the light comes back up, I enjoy a nice drink of water and empty my pockets - I place onto the ledge the (fake) microphone that I’ve been singing into and the pack of (fake) smokes in my jacket pocket. The drink is just what the doctor ordered before launching into ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You’ and ‘Workin’ My Way Back To You’, two of the most challenging songs in the show.

Despite what you may think, this is not a photo of me. It is, however, fellow Canadian Kara Tremel of the Vegas company, playing Mary. Although I couldn't find a photo of a Frankie up there, I thought you might enjoy seeing Kara sitting on the spiral staircase, holding a plastic glass filled with coloured water and plastic ice cubes, complete with a sealed plastic lid. Awesome.

                                                                                                             (Photo by Joan Marcus)

         5. On The Hospital Bench.

After singing those two huge songs and delivering another monologue, we segue into the section preceding ‘Fallen Angel’. I haven't been offstage for about 30 minutes, and at this point of the show – 2 hours in and 21 songs down - my voice is very tired. I finish the monologue, sit on the bench, and a nurse comes out and gives me a nice white box. Although that was very kind of her, I kinda appreciate the Priest a bit more because when he comes out, he hands me a Styrofoam cup holding a few sips of water. Although, I gotta be honest with you, sometimes I wish it was scotch. (Ok, most times I wish it was scotch, but what are you gonna do.) 

Funny thing about this moment - sometimes when I bring the cup to my mouth, it smells ever so faintly of hand sanitizer. This makes me smile on the inside, because it tells me that the actor playing the Priest, Enrico Mammarella, probably just sanitized his hands backstage, and is trying not to transfer any germs on to me. Personally, I’d rather not get a whiff hand sanitizer up my nose before singing, but at this moment, it’s still worth it for that lovely sip of germ-free water.

    

This is Rebecca Jayne Davies as Francine and Ryan Molloy as Frankie of the London company. Here, she's saying to Ryan, "It's OK, the show's almost over. You'll get offstage soon. Then you can drink whatever you want." (Photo by Brinkhoff/Mögenburg) 

JB Top 5's: Daily Must-Dos

Incredibly, after a nearly four-year run, Jersey Boys Australia will take its final bow in about two weeks. One of the world's most successful musicals in decades has certainly been a hit Down Under, as it has around the world. And for me, this will mark the third time I will be saying "Bye Bye, Baby" to the show. Will it be for good this time? Who knows.

      Facing another closing night has inspired me to look back and examine my time with this show. And because I think you might find it interesting, I've decided to share some of these thoughts with you. Specifically, my goal is to put into words exactly what it's like to be an actor playing this iconic person in this famous band in this amazing show, six nights a week. 

      Part 3 of an on-going series of Top 5’s that illuminate what it’s like to play Frankie Valli in the long-running show, Jersey Boys.  Parts 1 and 2 are linked below, or you can also find them to the right, by clicking on 2013, then clicking on May.

      http://jeffmadden.blogspot.com.au/2013/05/jb-top-5s-5-moments-that-make-my-heart.html

      http://jeffmadden.blogspot.com.au/2013/05/jersey-boys-top-5s-5-moments-that-make.html

   From L-R: Declan Egan (Bob Gaudio), Me, Anthony Harkin (Tommy DeVito), Glaston Toft (Nick Massi)

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 Today's Subject: The Top 5 Daily Must-Dos

“It must be so glamorous getting to play Frankie Valli! You must be having so much fun up there - You make it look so easy onstage! It must be nice, only having to work at night!” These are a few of the typical comments I hear from audience members after the show at the stage door. I also get, “How do you do that – is that your normal singing voice?” And then, “Oh, you have an accent - What part of the States are you from?”

My answers are usually – “Glamorous - not really. Fun – absolutely! Easy – not on your life!” Basically, most of the time, an actor’s life is not what you might think. It’s a tonne of hard work, we’re just trained to make it look easy. Now, trying to answer the question about my ‘normal’ voice and how I sing like Frankie… well, that’s hard work, too. It’s actually a fascinating question, one that I will address throughout this Top 5 post. (Oh, and I answer the ‘Where in the States’ question with “The Canadian part.”)

It’s pretty obvious that playing ‘Frankie Valli’ in Jersey Boys is kinda difficult. There’s the singing technique, power and endurance required, in addition to closely approximating Frankie’s iconic sound. Then there’s the acting skill required to play this world-famous Italian-American from a dirt-poor teenager to a Rock and Roll legend. There’s more than a few dance skills required, not to mention the fitness to sing and dance through 25 songs and all those scenes with only a few very short breaks.

But on top of all that, in order to succeed in this role, you’ve got to be reliable. You’ve got to have the endurance to deliver the goods night after night, six days a week. And in my opinion, maintaining this endurance is the hardest part of doing this role. It’s also probably the trickiest to predict in an individual, from a casting point of view.

For me, being reliable has been a point of pride throughout my whole life. Whether at school, or the baseball field, as a band member – heck, just as a person – I've always tried to make it a part of my character. 

But, how does an actor do ‘reliable’? I think it starts with really knowing yourself. Throughout my 16 years being a professional actor and singer, I’ve been undergoing a never-ending exercise in self-awareness. I constantly “check in with myself”, during rehearsals, during warm-ups, during performances (if the occasion permits), and after the show. It’s a process that every actor needs to develop in order to get better in their craft. 

For example, I’m constantly checking in with my muscles – vocal and otherwise - to see how they felt after doing a particular section of the show. I’ll ask myself, “How did that section go – great or less than great? And how did it feel? Did I do something differently there? And if the answer is yes, was the outcome the same, better, or worse? If it was better, is it worth making the change permanent?” On my breaks, I’ll write down the information gathered from doing this type of analysis into a notebook which I keep in my dressing room. I’ll refer to the notes on a constant basis until the information becomes a part of my muscle memory. Sometimes, if I’ve gotten into some bad habits, I’ll look back through my notebooks and invariably come across the solution.

When doing a challenging show six days a week, I’ve found that the most important factor for being reliable is being properly warmed-up. Obviously, how you warm up depends on the role you’re playing. For some shows I’ve been in, warming up is a 20-minute thing. You stretch for a minute or two, you vocalize for maybe 10 minutes, maybe have a cuppa joe, and throw on your costume. Other roles have been much harder. For example, playing Homer in Floyd Collins at the Shaw Festival back in 2004 was so vocally and physically challenging for me that I was having problems consistently being my best. I discovered that by spreading out my warm-up into shorter intervals throughout the day - thus gently nudging my voice and body in the direction that they needed to go - I would have a better show than if I just warmed up during the hour before curtain. That experience helped prepare me for this one. 

Doing Frankie consistently well requires the most intensive warm-up I’ve ever had to do. I’ve developed it from listening to my creative team - who’ve learned from other Frankie’s experiences - and from doing this type of self-awareness analysis from Day 1. If I waver from it, injuries inevitably start to creep in. They’re usually minor at first, but they can quickly escalate to major issues. And trust me, you don’t want to be doing this role in pain – talk about a nightmare. (My experiences there might soon be the topic of another Top 5 list…) 

So, without further ado, here are the Top 5 things that I must do every day to be my best onstage as Frankie Valli every night. (I don’t know what the other Frankie’s past and present do to get ready to play this part every day. It may be very similar, it may be completely different. This post is only meant to describe what it’s like for me personally.)

·        1. Get eight hours of sleep, eat healthily, take vitamins, and drink tons of water.

Sleep is a no-brainer. Your body repairs itself while you sleep, leaves you with enough energy, and keeps your mind sharp. ‘Nuff said.

Like anyone who wants to perform at their highest level, musical theatre performers must eat a healthy diet and supplement with vitamins as required. I’ve always had a high metabolism, so I’m usually quite hungry in the morning. I never skip breakfast. Ever. I’ll try to have a large healthy lunch, but sometimes the lunch is small and the dinner is large. But whatever I do – and I’ve learned this the hard way – I never perform Jersey Boys with food in my system. Ideally, the last meal I eat will be between two and three hours before showtime. There’s way too much running around while vigorously using my diaphragm singing and screaming in this show to have food in my system. Ugh… I’m getting sick just thinking about it.

And water. I never stop drinking water during the day. It keeps the voice happy, heals up everything quickly, and keeps things running smoothly. I probably drink 2-3L of water during the day, then another 2L at the theatre between warm-up and warm-down. Maybe more. (And yes, I have planned my drinking and bathroom breaks very carefully during the show… haha).

·         

     2. Minimum 20-minutes of a tongue-pulling vocal warm-up.

What? Tongue-pulling? Yup. Singing rock music for a couple hours puts a huge strain on the tongue muscle, not to mention many other muscles in the face, neck, chest and back. Everyone knows that it’s extremely beneficial before and after exercise to stretch your muscles to avoid muscle pain, cramping and inflammation. The tongue is no different, and gently pulling it forward while doing a series of vocal exercises has proven time and time again to keep the vocal apparatus healthy enough to rock it out six days a week.

This lesson was first drilled into me in a recording studio in Nashville, TN where I met the one and only Bob Gaudio and the woman who would become my new best friend, vocal teacher Katie Agresta. Katie teaches her methods to all the Frankie’s around the world, whether in-person or by Skype, and I know that utilizing Katie’s knowledge has greatly helped my reliability. If you’re reading this, “Thanks for everything, Katie!” (Incidentally, she has taught, among others, Jon Bon Jovi, Lenny Kravitz, and recent Tony-award winner Cindy Lauper… so, Katie’s kind of a big deal…) Also, “Thank you, Dodger Theatricals, for contracting Katie to teach all your Frankie’s – smart move!” It’s sure made a difference in my career.

I do tongue-pulling vocal exercises for at least 20-minutes before the show, and for about 15-minutes after the show as part of a warm-down. Every single show, without fail. It works.

·         

     3. Minimum 20-minutes of a “legit” Bel Canto vocal warm-up.

Bel Canto is Italian for “beautiful singing”, but I’m referring here to the Bel Canto teaching style for singers. It is widely used to train singers in a ‘classical’ or ‘legitimate’ style of sound production that dates back to the late 1700s. I was taught this technique for about seven years while working at the Shaw Festival by the inimitable Carol Forte (and if that isn’t a great singing teacher’s last name, I don’t know what is).

Singing with this technique is considered the ‘healthiest’ style of singing, and when done correctly, it produces a beautiful tone while putting the least strain on the voice. My friend Wikipedia tells me that when using this technique properly, singers will have an impeccable legato production throughout a seamless range and the use of a lighter tone in the higher registers, giving the singer an agile, flexible voice capable of dispatching ornate embellishments (um, licks?), the ability to execute fast, accurate divisions (um, runs?), the avoidance of aspirates (wuh?), a pleasing timbre (“look out below!”) and a graceful phrasing rooted in a complete mastery of breath control.

Basically, it helps me sing good! If I don’t warm-up with Bel Canto exercises for a few days, my tone suffers and I lose the ease of connection through the bridge (between my chest voice and falsetto) which, in this show, is deadly. That’s why I do them. I remind my voice what’s healthy before I go out and shred it. (“Thank you, Carol! You Rock – but in a legitimately healthy way!”)

 

·        4. Minimum 20-minutes of a “mixed” head-voice dominant vocal warm-up.

I usually do these exercises during the last 45-minutes just before the show every day, and helps me to solidify that iconic “Frankie” sound. Here, I combine specific exercises from my work with Katie with specific exercises from my work with Carol, and add in what I learned from Bob Gaudio in that Nashville studio. I throw all of that into a blender, add in some tobacco sauce and some roasted garlic, say a couple prayers, and Viola- I’m ready to go.

It’s really quite difficult to describe, but there are a few particular exercises that help me merge my chest voice with my falsetto in a silky smooth manner. When done properly, this allows me to sound a lot like Frankie while still singing in a healthy, Jeffy-like way (Or, is that J-e-f-f-i?). Regardless, this step is also essential for helping me make believers out of the audience.

·         

     5. Minimum 30-minutes of a physical warm-up.

So, again, this kinda goes without saying, but if you want to do a physical activity well, you’ve got to warm-up your muscles. And playing ‘Frankie Valli’ certainly qualifies as physical activity. I’ve never been a good runner – for me, running creates more problems than it helps – so I like to ride a bike for a light cardio warm-up. Failing that, I do lots of squats, lunges and step-ups. Singers need to warm their legs, their glutes, their back and their core, because despite what you might think, all of those muscles are essential to proper singing and voice production. 

I have found that Yoga is also extremely helpful for me, and I do about three 30-minute sessions a week now (I used to do 30-minutes every day in my early days playing Frankie back in Toronto in 2008). I had never done Yoga before starting Jersey Boys, but my good friend and assistant choreographer Danny Austin told me to start doing it during our first conversation after I got the job. “Thanks, Danny! You’ve helped me more than you could possibly know!” (Oh, and those Side-Splits would have never happened without it!)

I also lift weights in a circuit, once or twice a week, hitting all the muscle groups. I try not to get into the same pattern of exercises, because I find the body adapts very quickly to them, lessening their effect. I don’t lift heavy weights at all, because doing so definitely affects my performance – trust me, dragging lead-like lactic acid-filled muscles around the stage at a high pace for two hours is a nightmare. And of course, before show-time, I like to make sure I get a nice stretch through my hips, my rib-cage, my chest, shoulders and neck. I gently repeat these stretches after the show as part of my 15-minute warm-down before heading out of the theatre. 

It’s all part of the daily routine of being a Frankie. A ‘good ol’ reliable’ one, as the famous song from Guys and Dolls goes. (By the way, I can’t wait to see that show down at the Shaw Festival in Niagara this summer – I hear it’s a wonderful production. Go see it.) Till next time.

JB Top 5's: 5 Moments That Make My Heart Ache

All we want is to be ‘believable’.

People come to the theatre for a lot of reasons. Some come to chat and talk on their cellphones. (See my LINK: http://www.jeffmadden.blogspot.com.au/2013/05/the-audience.html). But let’s assume most of them pay their hard-earned money to watch an entertaining story unfold, to understand the motivations of the characters, and possibly to be moved to feel something. The more ‘believable’ the actors are, the likelier the audience will go home happy with the transaction.

So, how do we do ‘Believable’? An actor’s job is simply to communicate a character to the audience. By manipulating their voices, bodies and minds, the actors work together within the structure of the script and the director’s vision to bring the story to life. Each actor’s goal is to allow the audience to understand what his or her particular character is feeling at all times.

This brings up one particular aspect of acting that has fascinated me for years. While communicating a character to an audience, the actor’s goal is not to make himself feel what the character is feeling; rather, the goal is to enable the audience members to understand it; should they then be moved to feel something themselves, all the better. It’s an important distinction to make.

Of course, there are many different techniques that actors can use to achieve this goal. All these techniques get honed through practice into what we call our ‘process’. For me, it is easiest to achieve the goal when I’ve personally gone through a situation similar to the character’s, and can tap into my own actual sense memories to portray it. When this is not the case, the actor must rely on other techniques to plausibly portray the moments in question. I know quite a few actors – many of whom are exceptional – who give almost entirely technical performances and still move the audience.

I’ve always been a deeply sensitive individual. Maybe a bit too sensitive for my own good in this modern world. But I see this sensitivity as a gift. It has made me the man I am today - a husband and father of two beautiful little girls, and an artist. As hard as it is being an artist these days, it always brings me joy to sing great songs, to act in great plays, and to appreciate the work of other artists. That I am able to use my sensitivity to move or inspire others is the icing on the cake.

Let’s face it – I got very lucky to win this role. I may not have grown up Italian, American, or dirt poor, but in other powerful ways, I relate very closely to Frankie’s journey. In some instances during the show I use a purely technical approach. But, as I illustrate in the examples below, when I tap into my own emotional sense memory onstage every night, I feel as though I can access the very essence of these emotions. And if I'm doing my job well, they are communicated to you in a believable way. That may very well be the defining characteristic of my “Frankie” – his heart. Bursting with joy one moment, breaking apart the next.

In my last post (LINK: http://www.jeffmadden.blogspot.com.au/2013/05/jersey-boys-top-5s-5-moments-that-make.html) I talked about the Top 5 things that make my heart soar when doing Jersey Boys, but here I want to turn the tables. I want to talk about the Top 5 things that make my heart ache, and shine some light onto my ‘process’ along the way. And in so doing, I’ll throw some love to some of the great actors I’ve had the pleasure of working with over the years in Jersey Boys.

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Today's subject: The Top 5 Moments That Make My Heart Ache.

   1.      Singing “My Eyes Adored You”.

Prior to this song, you watch Frankie meet the Jersey girl of his dreams in Mary Delgado. They fall in love, get married and have a kid before you can say, “Call your mother, you’re gonna be home late.” You watch as Frankie and the band overcome their early struggles to score three Number One hits in a row. Then, the guys struggle with their new-found success and the constant touring, and you witness the toll it takes on Frankie and Mary. And finally, after returning from a successful tour, you watch as Frankie engages in a shouting match with Mary that ends their marriage.

I’ve worked with many different Mary’s in my Jersey Boys days. They say, you always remember your first – and how could I forget ‘Jenny from the Block’, the amazing Jenny Lee Stern. She was scary good. I also had the pleasure of working with two other Marys in Toronto – the lovely and talented Jennifer Copping and Cleopatra Williams, and the fantastic Elise Brennan in Sydney. On Tour here, Mary is played by Lisa Adam, the best actor in the current company by miles. And I don’t think anyone would dispute it, either. She is the only Jersey Girl in all the productions worldwide to be nominated for a best supporting actress award for Jersey Boys. And it was well-deserved. She can be funny as hell one moment, rip your head off the next, and then break your heart. What a gift it is to work with her.

Frankie and Mary had two girls together, and Mary had a daughter from a previous relationship. Frankie was on the road a lot, doing his best to provide a decent living for them all. Frankie’s future certainly looked like it would continue to be full of traveling. They were growing apart. How long would it go on?

It doesn’t take much effort or creativity for me to relate to this moment, being married with two little girls of my own at home, seemingly millions of miles away. I know too well the complexity of feelings involved in choosing to live a life on the road, doing the thing that I’m really good at and passionate about, and providing for a family that I dearly love but rarely see. My heart aches just thinking about it.

It’s interesting. When I sing this song away from the show – in a concert or cabaret setting; even in rehearsal – I usually sing it, in a word, better. More technically pure, prettier even. But in the show, it comes out more raw, rougher around the edges. A bit ‘haunted’, perhaps. At first it used to bother me that I wasn’t singing it as nicely as I could. But then, I realized – don’t fight it. Embrace it. When I sing it in the show, my heart is aching. It’s more believable.

Declan Egan (Bob Gaudio), Jeff Madden (Frankie Valli), Ant Harkin (Tommy Devito), Glaston Toft (Nick Massi)

   2.      Saying Goodbye to Tommy after the Sitdown.

Tommy Devito is Frankie’s big brother. Tommy takes teenaged Frankie under his wing, teaches him about life, about women, and about how to get off the mean streets of Bellville, NJ. For this, Frankie idolizes him. One could argue that Frankie's love for Tommy was only matched by his love for music. As Jersey Boys progresses, you witness their relationship shift– Tommy betrays Frankie a couple times, and Frankie stands up to Tommy, demanding his respect. But the love was always there. It’s a complex relationship that many people in long-term friendships can relate to. Even when Tommy puts the group’s future in jeopardy by his inability to control himself, Frankie still backs Tommy. Frankie wants the entire group to work together to pay off Tommy’s debt rather than sending him to the curb, or worse, into the arms of Norm Waxman's 'people'. Frankie’s loyality and love for Tommy blind him from the true reality of the situation. “You come up together, that’s a promise. And it’s like iron.” Frankie puts up with Tommy’s shenanigans because they are brothers. Blood. Family. And, to Frankie, “Family is everything”.

In my years of doing Jersey Boys, I’ve been blessed to work with so many amazing Tommy’s. Jeremy Kushnier and Dan Sullivan led the way in Toronto, and Glenn Quinn held the reins when I did the show in Sydney. Anthony Harkin has taken control here on Tour, and it’s incredibly fun working off of his Tommy.

I have two older brothers myself, and I love them very deeply. In fact, my life has been shaped as much by them as it has by my loving and supportive parents. I watched them grow up ahead of me, I analyzed their successes and failures, and I witnessed how their separate near-death experiences scarred my family. One brother nearly died in my arms as a result of his peanut allergy, and the other somehow came out of a 12-day-long coma after having been run over by a car while attempting to cross the street. At the time of each instance, I didn’t know if they would make it, or if I would ever have the chance to say ‘Goodbye’ and tell them how much I loved them. Those feeling still stick with me today.

Thankfully, both brothers survived and have recovered to be absolutely awesome human beings. But like in most families, our relationships have faced many bumps in the road through the years. At times, I remember being overwhelmed by my conflicting feelings, wanting the best for them, but being at odds with their decisions at the time. When it’s your blood, it hurts deep down inside.

Blood nearly spills when Frankie and Tommy fight during the Sitdown scene, when all of Frankie’s frustration, anger and hurt that was pushed down for years finally come bursting out. When someone you love lets you down in such a profound way, it hurts so much. And having to say goodbye to them - your family – well, that hurts like nothing else.

   3.      When Francine Runs Away.

Having to say Goodbye is a recurring theme for Frankie in Jersey Boys. One by one, all the people that he loves leave him, and he must soldier on alone. Mary is the first to do so. The audience catches up with her again in the middle of Act 2. You discover that the divorce has not made things better for Mary. With Frankie on the road and not around, she is left to deal with raising her children alone. When Francine has run away from home and not returned for two days, Mary calls Frankie to come over to the house to talk about what to do. But before long, Frankie and Mary find themselves in another yelling match – Mary, drink in hand, accuses him of being a horribly absent father; Frankie implores her to clean herself up. And then the phone rings. It’s Francine. It’s her cry for help. It’s a crucial moment for her, for everybody. Only, Francine wasn’t expecting the voice on the phone to be her dad’s.

The first time my younger sister ran away from home, it was for two days. She was 16 years old. It was devastating to my parents. An absolute nightmare. I was living at home and going to University at the time, too wrapped up in my own life to see the warning signs. Turns out we got lucky – she came back home, only to vanish again a few weeks later.

Thankfully, my sister is just fine now – she lives with her fiancé and their bouncing baby boy a few kilometers from my parent’s house. But for 15 years, it looked like it was going to be a disaster. She lived on and off the streets, she got addicted to drugs, she hung out with the wrong crowd, and amazingly, she came out alive. Somehow we were blessed with good fortune. There is still a gulf chock full of hurt feelings there, but one that my family has managed to build a bridge over, and move on.

As a parent for almost seven years now, I’ve come to understand that there’s a spark, a beauty, a light inside each and every person, and that it can either be supported and allowed to shine, or squished down only to fade away.

In that moment onstage when Francine hangs up the phone on me, I am left standing there, as my own parents once did, facing the reality that she is gone, maybe forever. Frankie knows he may never see his daughter again, and that he’s partly to blame for this colossal failure. I remember the pain on my parent’s faces all those years ago. I remind myself of the crushing feeling of saying goodbye to my own children. I feel the heavy guilt of my own decisions weighing on my heart.

And when I turn to Stage Left to sing the first lines of “Bye Bye, Baby” and find myself staring into Francine’s eyes, it’s almost too much. Kat Hoyos’ big, beautiful brown eyes, filled with hurt and anger and tears, bear down on me. Then she runs off, and my heart is about to burst. It’s an extremely powerful moment. All Frankie can do is soldier on, and continue to bear the weight of his choices across his slender shoulders.

Lisa Adam (Mary and others), Kat Hoyos (Francine and others), Michelle Smitheram (Lorraine and others)

   4.      When Lorraine leaves Frankie.

He leads the female reporter to a spot at a bar. The man has been wounded, but his wounds have now healed over. He’s a bit gun-shy of her beauty. After all, he’s responsible for an ex-wife and three kids, he’s always on the road, but damn, he’s lonely. It’s complicated. He finds himself talking, really talking. He’s unusually forthcoming. For the first time in a long time, he’s at ease. As he’s talking about his childhood and his mother – his mother - a warmth comes over him, and he realizes… ‘Who is this woman? Why am I opening up so much? She’s beautiful, classy even. Different. Is she bringing this out of me? Am I imagining this? Could I be falling for her?’ It’s a sweet scene.

Lorraine is Frankie’s savior. She listens. She smiles openly. She picks him up after his fall, helps him to stand up and walk again. It's all going well at first. But the strain of Tommy’s behavior on the group is driving Frankie to the brink. Frankie’s temper rages after Tommy hits on Lorraine, and she is awoken. She witnesses this vulgarity, this animal leap out from inside Frankie, and realizes the truth. ‘Maybe we’re too different. Maybe the timing is wrong. Maybe we both want different things. Is it worth it?’

Lorraine confronts Frankie with the truth. She’s right - the relationship’s going nowhere, they barely see each other, and she’s taking a back seat to everything band-related. There's no future in it. She wants out. Frankie is stuck, trapped even. What can he do? He’s made his commitment to the band, to digging them out of their hole, the tour-dates are set, there’s no turning back now. Nothing he can say – not even a half-hearted offer of marriage – is going to change the reality of the situation. He has to let her go. It’s a bitter-sweet breakup – they really care for each other, but it’s all bad timing and crazy circumstances - but it aches nonetheless. We’ve all been there at some point in our lives.

So Frankie says Goodbye again. Watching her turn her back and walk up those stairs crushes me every single night. With each high-heeled step, all the shining possibilities of a new life, a better life, a healthier life, fade into another chorus of "Bye Bye, Baby". I’ve been blessed to work with some fantastic Lorraines over the years. Good friend Elodie Gillet was Lorraine in Toronto, Cinzia Lee in Sydney, and Michelle Smitheram here on the Aussie Tour. They all absolutely nailed it, and it was a pleasure trying to be ‘believable’ with each of them.

   5.      Francine’s Death.

You’ve just witnessed Frankie triumphantly sing the hits “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” and “Workin’ My Way Back To You”. To quote a famous Broadway Mama, ‘Everything’s coming up roses’. Frankie’s done it. Bob’s two new songs were hits, and they sold like wildfire. The years of touring and hard work have paid off – literally. The debt is gone. And to top it off, Frankie is feeling good. He’s even getting a weekly phone call from his runaway daughter, and it seems like things are heading in the right direction with their relationship.

And then, it’s over. In the span of a few seconds, Frankie’s world once again begins to crumble as he learns of Francine’s death. At first, there’s shock and disbelief; then anger as Frankie lashes out against the system that allows for these things to happen – the politicians, the cops, the drug dealers. It’s everyone else’s fault. And then it sinks in. Frankie’s world really crashes down when he realizes that he himself is largely to blame for her death.

It’s almost unimaginable – how any parent deals with the untimely death of a child is beyond me. I’ve experienced the death of my grandparents, some extended family members and friends, but thankfully none of my immediate family. My two older brothers survived their near-death experiences; my sister made it through the grinder of street life alive. My own two children have lived happy, healthy lives. I’ve been lucky. But as Frankie, I have to deal with it in front of everyone’s eyes, right downstage on that bench, alone. And then, sing "Fallen Angel" to the her memory, because it's all Frankie knows how to do. The anger, the sadness, the guilt and pain all have to be believable while singing the words that Frankie dearly wishes he could have said to her face. It’s major heart-ache time.

In a way, I absolutely can relate. As unbelievable as it sounds, during the run of Jersey Boys in Toronto, our original Francine, Lindsay Thomas, died of lung cancer. She was 30. I’ve written lots about Lindsay and the amazing person she was - beauty personified, inside and out. She’s been flying around heaven cheering everyone up for over three years now, and I still think about her each and every time I do this show. How can I not? I mean, my daughter in the show and the actor actually playing her both died unexpectedly. (LINK: http://www.jeffmadden.blogspot.com.au/2010/02/lindsay-thomas-revised-edition.html)

After Lindsay died, I struggled mightily with getting through the phone call, the monologue, the scene with the minister and especially "Fallen Angel". The emotions I was dealing with were so raw, so real, so confusing that it became a bit of a problem for me. Then, one day, I remembered what happened to me when singing at Lindsay's memorial service. I became overcome with emotion at one particular point, and as I turned my gaze down to collect myself, my eyes became fixed on a picture of Lindsay’s smiling face. I felt calmness come over me in that moment, almost as if Lindsay is saying – ‘it’s OK, I’ll help you through this.’ I decided to bring this memory into every show of Jersey Boys, and since then I’ve never struggled with the song again. Thanks, Linds.

The best part is, this all works dramatically for the scene, too. When the spirit of Francine sits next to Frankie and places her hand on his, she comforts her grieving father as if to say, ‘It’s Ok, I’ll help you through this.’ Whether it was Lindsay or her replacement Alyson Smyth in Toronto, Teagan Wouters in Sydney or Kat Hoyos here on tour, I can feel the good vibes passing from their hands to mine. Along with a special closeness to Lindsay that, selfishly, I am going to miss once Jersey Boys closes in about five weeks.

Lindsay Thomas