Home: The Beauty and the Beast Version
“But in it’s place I feel
A truer life begin
And its so good and real
It must come from within”
Anyone that knows me, knows I love Beauty and the Beast. I can recite the opening monologue of the movie and musical (yes, they are different), I cry every time I hear the intro to Beauty and the Beast and I still giggle at Cogsworth and Lumiere shuffling along to show Belle the library. I have the merchandise, the Belle dolls, the rare collectibles and the musical soundtrack in multiple languages. Everyone assumes I am ‘that girl’, who never grew out of her Disney Princess phase and chose Belle as the favorite because she is brunette. While we brunettes gotta stick together, it is far more than that.
Beauty and the Beast was the first musical I ever saw on Broadway. I was seven years old and of course, mesmerized. The costumes, the lighting, the way the characters jumped off the stage as if from a pop up book. It was the most important night of my entire life. Beauty and the Beast catapulted my love of theater, magic, storytelling and fantastic characters. It is one of my only childhood memories I vividly remember. I think about it and I can still feel the chills running down my arms, the cramps from standing on my tiptoes the entire time and my eyes watering from not blinking. Not once. It was my opening bell(e), the beginning of my story.
The most wonderful roomie
In August of 2018, I was moved into my first ‘big girl’ apartment (meaning all my furniture matched). I had finished graduate school, had a full time job, paid off all my student loans and was living with a fantastic roommate whom I loved dearly. I was an adult and it felt so good.
Only a few days after I moved in, the lobby doors were ajar with boxes askew and moving blankets abound. As I stepped into the elevator, a very attractive, middle aged man jumped in with me. He was carrying a few smaller bags and a giant framed poster. It was a zillion degrees out that day and he looked exhausted. I sympathized, having just moved, but kept to myself. No one wants to talk while they are moving. As the elevator doors closed, he said ‘Hi’ as he reached out his hand for a shake. I looked up from my phone, we locked eyes and my entire world stopped.
In Beauty and the Beast when the Beast turns back into the prince (spoiler? I hope not), Belle is confused and unsure. The only way she knows it is him is by looking in his eyes.
Beast: “Belle look into my eyes. Belle don’t you recognize the beast within the man who’s here before you.
Belle: “It is you!”
(Music Swell)
Starring me in the eyes was Steve Blanchard… the longest running Broadway Beast. The man who played the role 6 out of the 8 times I saw the show. I don’t know the names of Broadway stars, but I knew exactly who this was. My very adult self crumbled into this little girl who watched as the Beast’s castle rotated in the key change of If I Can’t Love Her or watched as he stomped his feet in a temper tantrum whining “I just want her to come to dinner” in his rhythmic tone. He scared me. He made me laugh. He made me cry. He was the whole package and my favorite part of the show.
As we shook hands, the poster he was holding shifted around enough for me to see that it was a giant Beauty and the Beast on Broadway poster. He told me that he and his wife Meredith, and daughter were moving to the fourth floor.
I think I said, “Welcome to the building”. I couldn’t tell you.
I spent the next hour of my life FREAKING. OUT. (In a very adult way… obviously). None of my friends cared at all about my encounter, so who did my very adult self call? My mom. Having sat through countless hours of watching B&B, listening to me sing the entire soundtrack, buying me countless Mrs. Potts tea sets, she understood my excitement. This was my Spiderman. Through a series of ridiculous, theater people related events, I was made aware of a mutual friend Steve and I shared, who told me she would be happy to come over, see my new apartment and formally introduce us.
When my friend and I walked into the Beasts apartment, I was greeted with a glass of cava, the warmest hug from both Steve and Meredith (Steve’s gorgeous wife), a stool to sit on and all the love in their hearts. Be Our Guest was on full display with their kindness and generosity. It took me five minutes to fall completely in love with Meredith and friend-crush on her like you wouldn’t believe. It took me ten minutes to realize she had played Babette, the feather duster. I was in Beauty and the Beast heaven and my adultness was slowly falling away like the pedals on the enchanted rose.
When I finally let Chip out of the cupboard and revealed my Beauty and the Beast fandom, Steve brought out the works: old props and costume pieces, gifts from producers and memorabilia. While everyone else sipped cava, I stood on my tip toes, chills running down my arms, not blinking, not wanting to miss anything about this moment. I felt this overwhelming connection with the little girl inside of me, entranced by the magic, the excitement and the overwhelming kindness of my very real superheroes, the ones who showed me the light. They say don’t meet you heroes… unless they are Steve and Meredith.
We lived in the same building for two years. I stopped thinking of them as the Beast and Babette and started thinking of them as building mates… friends. When they moved, I was gifted the giant Beauty and the Beast poster I saw Steve carrying the first day we met. It hangs loudly and proudly in my new apartment as a reminder to always try and bring the magic with me to work, to the theater, to my classroom and to my kids. You never know who is sitting there, quietly in the audience, waiting for their life to completely change.
All of the magic makers from the theater community are currently out of work. If you have the means, please consider making a donation to actorsfund.org
