AUDITION NOTICE
The Importance of Being Earnest
By Oscar Wilde
Directed by Shelby Coleman
FLINT COMMUNITY PLAYERS
The Importance of Being Earnest is a story of two bachelors, John ‘Jack’ Worthing and Algernon ‘Algy’ Moncrieff, who create alter egos named Ernest to escape their tiresome lives. They attempt to win the hearts of two women (Gwendolen Fairfax and Cecily Cardew) who, conveniently, claim to only love men called Ernest. The pair struggle to keep up with their own stories and become tangled in a tale of deception, disguise, and misadventure.
PERFORMANCE DATES:
May 14, 15, 21, and 22 @ 7:30 PM
mAY 16 and 23 @ 2:30 PM
CHARACTERS
– John ‘Jack’ Worthing, J.P. (male identifying, 20’s-30’s): A seemingly responsible and respectable young man who leads a double life. In Hertfordshire, where he has a country estate, Jack is known as Jack. In London he is known as Ernest. Jack is guardian to Cecily Cardew. He is hopelessly in love with Gwendolen Fairfax. The initials following his name (J.P.) indicate that he is a Justice of the Peace.
– Algernon ‘Algy’ Moncrieff (male identifying, 20’s-30’s): A charming, idle, decorative bachelor, nephew of Lady Bracknell, cousin of Gwendolen Fairfax, and best friend of Jack Worthing, whom he has known for years as Ernest. Algernon is brilliant, witty, selfish and amoral. He has invented a fictional friend, “Bunbury,” an invalid whose frequent sudden relapses allow Algernon to wriggle out of social obligations.
– Gwendolen Fairfax (female identifying, 20’s-30’s): Algernon’s cousin and Lady Bracknell’s daughter. Gwendolen is in love with Jack, whom she knows as Ernest. A model and arbiter of high fashion and society, Gwendolen speaks with unassailable authority on matters of taste and morality. She is sophisticated, intellectual, cosmopolitan, and utterly pretentious. Gwendolen is fixated on the name Ernest and says she will not marry a man without that name.
– Cecily Cardew (female identifying, 20’s-30’s): Jack’s ward. Like Gwendolen, she is obsessed with the name Ernest, but she is even more intrigued by the idea of wickedness. This idea, rather than the virtuous-sounding name, has prompted her to fall in love with Jack’s brother Ernest in her imagination and to invent an elaborate romance and courtship between them. Playful, volatile, childish, and clever.
– Lady Bracknell (any gender, 40’s-60’s): Algernon’s snobbish, mercenary, and domineering aunt and Gwendolen’s mother. Lady Bracknell married well, and her primary goal in life is to see her daughter do the same. Lady Bracknell values ignorance. She is cunning, narrow-minded, authoritarian, and quite possibly, the most dangerous character in the play.
– Miss Prism (female identifying, 20’s-50’s): Cecily’s governess. Puritan though she is, Miss Prism’s severe pronouncements have a way of going so far over the top that they inspire laughter. Despite her rigidity, Miss Prism seems to have a softer side. She speaks of having once written a novel whose manuscript was “lost” or “abandoned.” Also, she entertains romantic feelings for Dr. Chasuble.
– Rev. Canon Chasuble, D.D. (male identifying, 20’s-50’s): The rector on Jack’s estate. Both Jack and Algernon approach Dr. Chasuble to request that they be christened “Ernest.” Dr. Chasuble entertains secret romantic feelings for Miss Prism. The initials after his name stand for “Doctor of Divinity.”
– Lane (any gender, any age): Algernon’s dutiful servant. Concise, crisp, energetic, yet formal. Lane is the blueprint for any servant, anywhere.
– Merriman (any gender, any age): The butler at the Manor House, Jack’s estate in the country. Eager to do well, but occasionally falling painfully short. Sweet and polite.

SEE FOLLOWING FOR AUDITION INSTRUCTIONS & SIDES
Auditions will be presented in two formats: IN-PERSON and ONLINE
IN-PERSON: When attending in-person auditions, you will receive audition paperwork at the door to fill out in your vehicle. Once you have your papers filled out, bring them to the theatre door attendant and head back to your car. You will receive a phone call when the director is ready for you! Think of the in-person auditions as a doctor’s appointment right now, where rather than waiting in the lobby you get to wait in your car until the director is ready to see you! When auditioning in person, you will be asked to adhere to health and safety guidelines put in place by FCP.
ONLINE: If you wish to audition virtually, virtual submissions may be sent to the email below by March 23 at 11:59 pm!

Actors are asked to…
• Wear something that makes you feel confident and comfortable.
• Arrive with your selected side prepared to perform. Memorization is ideal, but NOT a requirement.
• The play calls for an English dialect. Give us your best British! If you don’t feel comfortable doing so, don’t worry! This is something that can be coached during the rehearsal process.
• Follow all safety protocols as instructed by FLINT COMMUNITY PLAYERS (ex: wear a mask into the venue).
• At your audition time, please give the production team members present your name, and the side you are showing us.
o Example: My name is John Smith, and I’ll be reading LADY BRACKNELL.
• Once you’ve finished your piece, the Director or Stage Manager will ask for any adjustments if needed. If not, you’re all done!
• If you are submitting an audition video via e-mail, please include your FIRST AND LAST NAME followed by EARNEST AUDITION in the subject line.
o Example: John Smith EARNEST AUDITION
• In the body of the email, please attach your audition video following the above guidelines (state your first and last name, and the side you are showing us). Include your preferred methods of contact (e-mail and phone number) so we might be able to reach you, as well as any potential scheduling conflicts.
SEND VIRTUAL AUDITIONS TO:
shelbylynncoleman@yahoo.com

PLEASE CHOOSE ONE OF THE FOLLOWING SIDES TO AUDITION WITH…
CECILY CARDEW: You silly boy! Why, we have been engaged for the last three months. It will be exactly three months on Thursday. Ever since dear Uncle Jack first confessed to us that he had a younger brother who was very wicked and bad, you of course have formed the chief topic of conversation between myself and Miss Prism. And of course a man who is much talked about is always very attractive. One feels there must be something in him, after all. I daresay it was foolish of me, but I fell in love with you, Ernest. The engagement was actually settled on the 14th of February last. Worn out by your entire ignorance of my existence, I determined to end the matter one way or the other, and after a long struggle with myself I accepted you under this dear old tree here.

JACK: It pains me very much to have to speak frankly to you, Lady Bracknell, about your nephew, but the fact is that I do not approve at all of his moral character. I suspect him of being untruthful. I fear there can be no possible doubt about the matter. This afternoon during my temporary absence in London on an important question of romance, he obtained admission to my house by means of the false pretense of being my brother. Under an assumed name he drank, I’ve just been informed by my butler, an entire pint bottle of my Perrier-Jouet, Brut, ’89; wine I was specially reserving for myself. Continuing his disgraceful deception, he succeeded in the course of the afternoon in alienating the affections of my only ward. He subsequently stayed to tea, and devoured every single muffin. And what makes his conduct all the more heartless is, that he was perfectly well aware from the first that I have no brother, that I never had a brother, and that I don’t intend to have a brother, not even of any kind. I distinctly told him so myself yesterday afternoon.

LADY BRACKNELL: Well, I must say, Algernon, that I think it is high time that Mr. Bunbury made up his mind whether he was going to live or die. This shilly-shallying with the question is absurd. Nor do I in any way approve of the modern sympathy with invalids. I consider it morbid. Illness of any kind is hardly a thing to be encouraged in others. Health is the primary duty of life. I am always telling that to your poor uncle, but he never seems to take much notice . . . as far as any improvement in his ailment goes. Well, Algernon, of course if you are obliged to be beside the bedside of Mr. Bunbury, I have nothing more to say. But I would be much obliged if you would ask Mr. Bunbury, from me, to be kind enough not to have a relapse on Saturday, for I rely on you to arrange my music for me. It is my last reception, and one wants something that will encourage conversation, particularly at the end of the season when every one has practically said whatever they had to say, which, in most cases, was probably not much.

GWENDOLEN: Ernest, we may never be married. From the expression on mamma’s face I fear we never shall. Few parents nowadays pay any regard to what their children say to them. The old-fashioned respect for the young is fast dying out. Whatever influence I ever had over mamma, I lost at the age of three. But although she may prevent us from becoming man and wife, and I may marry some one else, and marry often, nothing that she can possibly do can alter my eternal devotion to you. The story of your romantic origin, as related to me by mamma, with unpleasing comments, has naturally stirred the deeper fibres of my nature. Your Christian name has an irresistible fascination. The simplicity of your character makes you exquisitely incomprehensible to me. Your town address at the Albany I have. What is your address in the country?

ALGERNON: I haven’t the smallest intention of dining with Aunt Augusta. To begin with, I dined thereon Monday, and once a week is quite enough to dine with one’s own relations. In the second place, whenever I do dine there I am always treated as a member of the family, and sent down with either no woman at all, or two. In the third place, I know perfectly well whom she will place me next to, to-night. She will place me next Mary Farquhar, who always flirts with her own husband across the dinner-table. That is not very pleasant. Indeed, it is not even decent…and that sort of thing is enormously on the increase. The amount of women in London who flirt with their own husbands is perfectly scandalous. It looks so bad. It is simply washing one’s clean linen in public.

MISS PRISM: Cecily! I am surprised at you. Mr. Worthing has many troubles in his life. Idle merriment and triviality would be out of place in his conversation. You must remember his constant anxiety about that unfortunate young man his brother. I do not think that even I could produce any effect on a character that according to his own brother’s admission is irretrievably weak and vacillating. Indeed I am not sure that I would desire to reclaim him. I am not in favour of this modern mania for turning bad people into good people at a moment’s notice. As a man sows so let him reap. You must put away your diary, Cecily. I really don’t see why you should keep a diary at all. Memory, my dear Cecily, is the diary that we all carry about with us.

REV. CHASUBLE: In Paris! I fear that hardly points to any very serious state of mind at the last. You would no doubt with me to make some slight allusion to this tragic domestic affliction next Sunday. My sermon on the meaning of the man in the wilderness can be adapted to almost any situation, joyful, or, as in the present case, distressing. I have preached it at harvest celebrations, christenings, confirmations, on days of humiliation and festival days. The last time I delivered it was in the Cathedral, as a chastity sermon on behalf of the Society for the Prevention of Discontent among the Upper Orders. The Bishop, who was present, was much struck by some of the analogies I drew.