Monstrous Regiment Lifeline Theatre

Castle walls are usually easy to replicate—you paint some plywood to look like fieldstone and mortar, or—if you want to get fancy—you paste some Home Depot fiberglass faux-fireplace surfacing material to the plywood. Lifeline Theatre's adaptation of Terry Pratchett's Monstrous Regiment, however, requires a wall to collapse into a pile of gravel at precisely the moment when an unexpected reversal is most needed, and not one second sooner.

With audience seated barely eight feet away and actors scurrying back and forth at close proximity to this precariously-balanced structure, how do you ascertain that it will not disintegrate prematurely?

"The wall is constructed from Styrofoam cut into smooth-sided blocks, which we carved to give a rough surface, then covered with fabric and painted," explains scenic designer Joanna Iwanicka, "The actors' traffic patterns take into consideration this one fragile section of wall, where the removable bricks are wedged into the space between the framing supports that remain intact throughout. The fabric and elastomeric paint coating reduces the crumble factor, but Becky Bishop, our stage manager, has a 'touch-up' kit for painting and repairs if anything gets damaged."

A stationary rock surface is challenging enough, but the titular regiment's personnel also includes Carborundum the troll, played by Justine C. Turner, garbed in what can only be described as granite-camouflage body armor. The answer, once again, is foam—this time, the soft upholstery kind used in sofas and chairs.

Creating wearable fake rock in volume sufficient to make a five-feet-seven, medium-build woman into a nearly seven-foot Incredible Hulk-sized giant, while still permitting her to march, kneel, pick up objects and generally move comfortably is a more complicated process, even though the entire costume weighs under ten pounds, declares costume designer Emily McConnell.

"Justine's first layer is runner's shirt and pants, with a few pieces of padding attached—lacrosse elbow pads, for example—and painted with fabric paint so they can be washed. Over that goes the layer built onto athletic equipment—bike helmets, football shoulder pads, umpire's chest padding, skateboarders' knee-pads for her arms, hockey gloves and shin-guards and finally, Goth-style platform boots. Chunks of foam—torn, not cut, in order to give it a craggy look—are then glued to all of this."

McConnell readily admits to making no attempt at improving upon the sports gear manufacturers' methods of preventing the garments and prosthetics slipping down or riding up during physical activity ("Why reinvent the wheel?" shrugs McConnell). Still, Carborundum cannot help becoming chipped or scarred—or, more often, starting to peel at the fingers and toes. McConnell assures me that the ever-vigilant Becky Bishop is supplied with a "troll repair" kit, consisting of spray adhesive, hot glue, latex paint, and extra foam patches.

If this sounds a lot like the first aid kit for the walls, says McConnell, it's because the troll costume incorporates techniques employed in both scenic and costume design. "Joanna mixed up the gray Super-88 latex adhesive paint and the texturing shades of elastomeric paint that we used on Carborundum's outer shell."

Monstrous Regiment runs at Lifeline through August 3.

Mary Shen Barnidge
Contributing Writer