The first show I did with Justin Lee doesn’t count–at least not completely. We weren’t friends yet, and no swords were involved. It was a quality production and hugely enjoyable. But we didn’t become great friends there. We did meet each other, however, and became “show friends” enough to recognize and talk to each other later as old castmates. That’s the bit that’s most important. Because later, we became real friends. And that’s where swords become involved.
During my time as a theatre education major at the University of Utah, Justin took the stage combat class just for fun. We talked about it a few times in the hallway of the Performing Arts Building. We also talked about how we were both going to audition for Oklahoma! at Rodgers Memorial Theatre.
Cut to: Justin Lee as Will and Liz Christensen as Ado Annie–that’s what was happening onstage. Backstage though? Justin used PVC pipes with rubber bike handles to teach me everything he had learned about sword fighting in the stage combat class. He in his cowboy boots and I in my petticoats would practice technique and routines on rehearsal breaks and during intermissions on show nights.
About a year later, I asked him to help stage the combat of a piece I was directing, Monster Spider. It was a Kabuki, Noh, and Bunraku piece written by one of my professors at the U who had given me permission to direct it for Bountiful High School’s entry into the One-Act play competition. No swords were involved, but Justin helped me craft the climactic confrontation in which the monster spider inflicted torture on the hero with a magic fan. It was the beginning of a beautiful working relationship.
Of all the shows, I’ve ever directed, The Three Musketeers by Ken Ludwig had the highest death count. Of course, I needed Justin. It was then I began to really understand how compatible our theories of choreography were. We both cared about revealing character and furthering the plot through movement. His choreography gave Athos, Porthos, Aramis, Rochefort, and D’Artagnan each their own style of swordplay suited to their archetypes. Additionally, Justin prized safety first and gave the actors tools that could transfer skills beyond the scope of our production. He was incredibly prepared and thoughtful, and treated the cast with genuine respect. I’ve never seen a more beautifully staged fight sequence with as many actor-combatants as the melee Justin pulled off in this show. It was spectacular!
Next, he staged the combat for an original piece collaboratively created with some of my favorite people, Robin Hood: Legend of the Sherwood Bandit by Ed Farnsworth and Anthony Buck. Loads of stories to tell about this one, but one of my favorites comes from when I was sitting in the back row of the amphitheater on one of the performance nights. Robin Hood, played by Justin Lee, and Guy of Gisbourne, played by Ed Farnsworth, faced off across the stage. One of the sword tips sparked as it contacted the cement floor on a choreographed flourish as they rushed to meet each other. There was an audible gasp from the audience and the exclamation, “They are using real swords!” Of course, the swords were stage swords and were checked for nicks and sharp bits every night, but they were metal. I reveled in the appreciation of the audience for what these two brilliant performers were doing in that fight sequence. Ed and Justin deserved the standing ovation and cheers they received. That fight brought the house down.
Many years later, I am thrilled at the imminent prospect of working with Justin Lee again. He will be the fight director and stunt coordinator for Jekyll and Hyde, the musical by Frank Wildhorn, that I’m directing for Centerpoint Legacy Theatre. Our conversations about the show’s violence on both technical and thematic levels have been so excitingly nerdy! It is a delight to work with him again and a huge relief to know the safety and showmanship of my cast are in his very capable hands.
