Ryan's Easter Drama

The title of this post refers to drama in the sense of a skit. A production. But oh my. It surely did bring with it some drama, drama, drama!

How would you like a story for your Tuesday? 

Back in early February, our new pastor asked me in a staff meeting if I thought Ryan would be willing to learn a monologue to share on Easter Sunday morning. Well, it's Ryan, so I was pretty sure the answer would be yes. The pastor sent me a YouTube link for the drama - performed by the original author - and Ryan and I both cried while we watched it. The message was so powerful. Ryan began watching the video over and over to learn it, eventually transcribing it so he would have a paper script to learn from as well. 

And then the virus came. I presumed the whole thing was canceled, but when I said something to that effect to the pastor, he just stared at me and said he had no intention of canceling it. Ryan could come to the church on Easter morning and do that drama for the live stream.

I was sad about being separated on Easter morning - but Ryan told me it would be okay, and he ordered all the supplies for the event. 

As time passed and restrictions tightened, the pastor agreed it might be better if Ryan pre-recorded it and we would all just watch it via video as part of the live stream service on Easter. 

So a few days before Easter, Ryan and I packed up all the supplies and headed to church so he could be recorded. It was just the two of us and the videographer in the building, and we all kept our distance from each other. 

The drama is called Stronger Stuff, and the premise is a man recollecting an event from his childhood when he found himself lured to a bucket of used motor oil in the garage - the motor oil his dad had told him not to touch. He ended up playing in it and getting oil everywhere. The more he tried to clean it up, the messier it all became. Eventually he had to call for his dad to help, and rather than shaming him for disobeying, his dad got out the stronger stuff with which to clean, and he cleaned up the mess. The application, of course, is that sin is messy and when we try to deal with it on our own, we make everything worse. We have to call for God's help. 

So Ryan reprised his role as Mr. Clean's lookalike, and for FOUR HOURS that night, he did rehearsal after rehearsal after rehearsal and take after take of the first part of the drama. Once he plunged his hands in the "oil" - he had to nail it from that point forward, because there was no going back. 

(I've had a lot of questions about whether or not he used real oil, and he did not. This was a mix of black tempera paint powder, water, and vegetable oil.) 

Here are some photos of the night they recorded:

You simply cannot even imagine how hard the two of them worked on this. They painstakingly checked every single light and camera angle, adjusted the timing and pauses of Ryan's talk, and meticulously tested all the equipment to make sure it was all working correctly so they didn't have any issues. 

By the time the night was over, they'd gone through the whole thing probably close to ten times (minus the messy part, which was only done once). A severe thunderstorm kicked in literally the same minute they stopped recording, making the church creak and surrounding the building with loud thunder crashes. Ryan tried to wipe the paint off in the bathroom, but he mostly just turned himself gray, and then we scurried out to the car in a pelting rain. (By the way, vats of vegetable oil stink to no end, so Ryan smelled quite interesting for the ride home!)

For two days, we waited for the final video to land in his inbox so we could see how it went. 

Good Friday night, as we watched an online service, the videographer called Ryan. I could hear him through the phone, and he said, "There's no easy way to tell you this..."

Both of us just looked at each other, absolutely sick inside. Whatever he was about to say was very, very bad, and we knew it.

He continued: "Your mic died halfway through. I have no idea how it happened. But it did."

Someone asked me why Ryan couldn't just redo the whole thing. 

Well, we'd used all the paint, and with craft stores closed, our only option to get more was ordering online. And also. Remember the outfit? It looks like this now:

But Scott had an idea. He said it was a long shot, but if Ryan was game to try, he was willing to see if they could get it to work. 

He asked if Ryan could come in on Saturday and watch the video on the screen (already edited together in its finished form) and basically feed the words back into his own mouth. Like reverse lip syncing. 

Can you even imagine how hard that would be? To get every inflection to match your own face? To start and stop words in the exact timing?

You guys...

...they did it. 

It took four more hours of recording, but he revoiced that ENTIRE drama from start to finish, and then when he left, Scott got busy piecing it into the video, line by line. 

And you know what?

It was nearly flawless. Ryan could tell a couple of times he'd been off, but every person I showed that video to said if they hadn't known, they would not have known. 

To me, the message is even MORE powerful, knowing all the obstacles they had to overcome to get a little five minute drama produced. I'm so proud of Ryan - and of Scott. They worked equally hard, and the result was something beautiful. 

If you'd like to see it, you can go here and find the service from Easter Sunday (April 12th). His video starts at 25:40.