A Wonderful Run of It’s a Wonderful Life
With all that’s going on in the news these days, it was a real joy—for our audiences and for me and the rest of the cast—to perform It’s a Wonderful Life.
Wait… you say… that’s not a play… that’s a movie. True! But what we did was something a little different: a live 1940s radio broadcast—microphones, old-time sponsors (yes, we sang the jingles), live sound effects, and cue cards for applause and laughs.
In costume and ready to step into the 1940s.
We were even introduced by the announcer not as ourselves, but as the “actors” playing the roles on-air. My name? Sally Applewhite—a former Miss Ohio (1943), fresh off filming Dottie Goes Bananas… and just a little full of herself—until she immerses into the role of Mary (the part Donna Reed made famous).
Backstage smiles with the cast.
When word got out that we were doing this, the emails started rolling in—people who grew up loving the movie, people who could recite whole scenes by heart. That’s a lot to live up to! So I played Mary as earnestly and sincerely as I could… because (as theatre mavens know) “The Importance of Being Earnest.”
Our “radio studio” set—microphones, seats, and holiday magic.
And if you know the film, you know how huge the cast is—an entire town, plus Heaven. This wonderful adaptation by Joe Landry asks about five of us to do it all.
We became the townspeople yelling and arguing when old man Potter—portrayed by John Sbordone (with a tone and manner that would have given Lionel Barrymore pause)—tried to close down the Savings & Loan.
Potter had plenty to say…
We became the club patrons—laughing, coughing, carrying on—when George (played beautifully from first rehearsal to final performance by Jack Rose) discovered what it’s like not to have been born.
Performing it “live on the air” at the microphones.
We became the entire Christmas celebration—Bedford Falls coming together to save George—created purely through our voices and timing over the microphones.
Scripts in hand, voices doing the heavy lifting.
From our first sold-out performance (and a long standing ovation) through our final sold-out show, the energy was electric. The cast was perfectly chosen:
Every voice became part of the soundscape.
- Chris Nelson, a master of dialects and voice, served up so many characters he was practically talking to himself (and answering himself).
- Sonia Pagan-Lopez played everything from my mother to the town “harlot” with ease—her Violet (“the one who liked all the boys”) was an audience favorite.
- Beau Wade was our foley artist—essential to the whole production—creating everything from sirens to baby cries and stitching scenes together with music transitions.
It was a balancing act: delivering heartfelt lines like “I love you too, George,” and then turning on a dime into a sponsor jingle about hair tonic—without ever leaving the stage. But we did it.
Moments like these made the run special.
Our stage manager Amanda told us she saw audience members mouthing the words to “Buffalo Gals Won’t You Come Out Tonight” while Jack and I sang it. That kind of joy is the whole point.
Bringing this timeless story to life was deeply rewarding—and a beautiful reminder that no one is a failure who has friends.
My onstage star: “Miss Sally Applewhite.”
A little keepsake from the run — and a reminder of how much fun we had bringing this “radio play” style to life.
One of our standout rehearsal moments.
And at the heart of it all, the story still lands exactly where it always does — with connection, community, and hope.
The heart of the story, right there.
