As observed for The Lexington Theatre Company by Kevin Lane Dearinger

Trying to document life at The Lexington Theatre Company mid-way through their summer season is a bit like time-lapse photography. The images fly by, flashing, fleeting, and unforgettable. Changes and changes and more changes.

Growth that never seems to slow down.

The artistic and box-office success of Les Misérables is still lighting up the souls and faces of the company. Proud. Steady. But moving forward, as theatres must.

Everyone may be a bit tired, but no one is ready to admit it.

Rehearsals and six performances of Les Misérables have forged bonds of friendship that will last forever. (I am still in touch with actors I worked with for two weeks, fifty-plus years ago. Just the thought of them can straighten my shoulders, pull in my belly, and make me feel twenty-something again. When we talk, it is just picking up an old conversation. Bonded forever.)

But it is the fast-spinning world of the theatre. The siren song and quick-step dance of summer stock.

Always the too-soon goodbyes as some actors depart and some remain for the next show. Memories of a quick joke in the dressing room, a giggle in the wings, a hasty meal between shows, and a meaningful moment shared on the Opera House stage. The feeling of “Happy trails to you, until we meet again,” hangs in the air, a small but lasting comfort.

For many performers in the summer company, a quick day off was followed by a concert performance “under the stars” at Equus Run. The Lex challenges all of its actors to do their best work but can never hope to showcase the full range of their talents.

A still night out in the country as the sun sets over the Bluegrass and the stars break through the haze of Kentucky humidity becomes a perfect setting for sharing the intimacy of the solo voice or a delicate duet. A display of vulnerability and confidence that is the proud product of talent, training, rehearsal, and generosity of spirit. The concert presents an impressive review of musical theatre, old and new, including songs from West Side Story, She Loves Me, Floyd Collins, The Secret Garden,Shrek, Shucked, and, uh, Matilda.

Chelsea Russell performing at “Concert Under The Stars” 2026

Then back to rehearsal.

New show. New deadlines fast approaching.

Moving from the high drama and angst of Les Misérables to the smaller story, quick wit, and warm heart of Matilda. The score is thrillingly inventive with lyrics that tickle, lift up, move, shake, and split the sides of self-control.

Rehearsals are about old faces. New faces. Eager faces.

Several seriously-skilled triple-threats are welcome returnees to The Lex. They have been missed, but now it’s as if they never left. Pure joy.

Motel, the tailor, is back, as endearing as ever. Show-business Susan from White Christmas is back with her usual sparkle. A two-time holiday treat, the well-bundled Randy and well-scarfed Tiny Tim, is also back, still pure of voice but ready for quiet mayhem. The wonderfully-loathsome Michael Wormwood is played by one of The Lex’s most-gleeful anarchists.

With Matilda, the younger actors have been quietly learning music and choreography for weeks ahead of formal rehearsals.

Youth Apprentices in rehearsals for *Matilda*

As I have written in previous commentary, never, never underestimate young performers. They see everything, hear everything, remember everything, feel everything, and generally get a better night’s sleep than most adult performers. If you don’t know your lines, they will.

Rehearsing a militant number called “The Smell of Rebellion,” the young actors march and stomp with a determination that would shake the foundations of the most strictly-regulated school. If Young Fantine had enjoyed such a phalanx of support, the monstrous Thénardiers would have crawled into their sewer and not come out again.

But beware. When the children sing “When I Grow Up,” they will break your heart with longing and regret for old dreams. We never really forget what it was like to be a child. The beauty and the terror. The hope.

When I grow up

I will be brave enough to fight

The creatures that you have to fight

Beneath your bed each night to be a grown up.

Maddox Ellis is a Matilda to be reckoned with. Intelligent, intuitive, sincere, curious, creative, and indomitable. True of voice. True of heart. She has that best gift for an actor: she listens. And you can readily believe that she taught herself to speak Bulgarian.

Maddox Ellis in rehearsals for *Matilda*

Will Matilda survive The Trunchbull, all-shoulders-and-vicious-ego, and the venal Wormwoods? And Rudolpho? (Keep an eye on Rudolpho.)

Well, Matilda is the title character!

Oddly, with talk of revolution and revolt against injustice, Matilda has more in common with Les Misérables than one might think. Different moods. Different tones. Different barricades and different sorts of prisons.

Similar human needs.

Dr. Brock Terry has just spent weeks of nearly non-stop conducting. In a less-relentless art, he would be at a spa now, being pampered with rest cures and drinks with small umbrellas. But being who he is, doing what he does so well, he is back, teaching, refining, cajoling, encouraging, and making musical magic. Tireless.

Seeming tireless.

And that takes dedication.

The director is new to The Lex, but he shares the trick of seeming tireless. It runs in the room, a shared madness or a shared joy. It’s called doing what you love and what you have trained to do well. Drew Humphrey learns quickly that one must dress warmly for the very cool rehearsal space, but he is also wearing a pink tropical shirt to suit the Kentucky heat. This guy is cool in every way. The directors at The Lex are always well-prepared, quick on their feet, and protective of their actors. Drew is no exception. He is steady, reassuring.

The actors feel his support. Even early on, they make strong choices, with fearless authority, but they are ever ready to change, modify, and refine any move, any line, any mood. It’s called talent. It’s called skill. It’s called creation.

It’s called acting.

The peerless Kristen Beth Williams, our glamorous Dorothy Brock from 42nd Street, turns loose her skill at divinely broad comedy as Mrs. Wormwood. When the script tells her to say, “Oh, gasp,” she takes the moment, quizzes the line, and makes it work. Hysterically. With a hyper-caffeinated-Eliza-Doolittle accent and the wide eyes of a born clown, she’s a hoot! (And still glamorous!)

Her worthy partner in bad parenting, Matthew Michael Janisse as Mr. Wormwood has a manic, music-hall energy. Vulgar and despicable and wildly entertaining. Matthew and Kristen Beth share moments as if they have been scene partners for years instead of days.

Kristen Beth Williams, Ian McKinney Nunnelley, and Matthew Michael Janisse in rehearsals for *Matilda*

Jayson Gorton, our heartbreaking Marius from Les Misérables, is showing his goofy side. Very, very goofy. Watch that ballet leg trying to get into vaudeville. Or is it hoping to find fame on the burlesque stage? It seems a bit late in the day to find that Marius might have won the battle at the barricade with a bump and a grind. Try not to giggle.

The Trunchbull, the fierce, gruesome headmistress, is played with strutting authority and the off-kilter fascination of an open sore by Justin Packard. Villains like Agatha Trunchbull are fascinating and somehow always terrifyingly familiar. Justin, however, is too fine an actor to settle for surface evil. His Trunchbull is a psychologically-deep psycho. Horrible and horribly funny. Justin rehearses with a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, looking at first like the laconic neighbor who hopped over the fence to help you pull your tractor out of the mud.

Then he does a cartwheel.

Delicate and tender, Astoncia Bhagat plays the put-upon Miss Honey, sweet of name, soul, and voice. A gentle haven in the school from hell. She is all empathy and heart in a small world that needs to protect its hearts.

Justin Packard and Astoncia Bhagat in rehearsals for *Matilda*

Another oasis of kindness and enthusiastic support is Mrs. Phelps, the librarian, played by The Lex’s own Meryl Streep of accents, Catherine Gaffney. A long way from her housekeeper in The Sound of Music but always grounded and wholly committed to the reality of any given moment. A gift. In rehearsal, she takes every opportunity to support Maddox’s Matilda, moving just slightly from time to time to give focus to the younger actress. Like Maddow, she listens with all her heart.

The choreographer is “new” but not. She has long been an essential part of The Lexington Theatre Family. Each time she returns, tireless and talented, Elizabeth McGuire brings greater skills and greater range. She was a winning and winsome Peggy Sawyer in 42nd Street. Now, she stages dances with boundless creativity and a comic brio to match the show’s deeply felt silliness. She is a born-artist and a born-teacher.

Rehearsals move in a flash. There is always a sense of “how can we make this all come together by opening night?”

And always that feeling that it will, it will, it will.

It’s what these folks do. Image by image. Moment by moment. In the full but fleeting flight of creation. And beautifully so.

The Lexington Theatre Company will present Matilda, the Musical for four evenings and two matinees, July 30-August 2 at the Lexington Opera House.

Matilda Takes the Stage (And Don’t Try to Stop Her!)

Matilda Evolving: the Making of a “Naughty” Musical.