The Office Brando

I only had one real strength as a high-school actor: volume. I was not especially good at “finding the character” or “inhabiting the space,” but even as a bird-chested seventeen-year-old, I could thunder like a Protestant tent revivalist. This hadn’t come much in handy since a sparsely attended 2002 production of West Side Story (I was, of course, the teacher) until this past month, when I finished a more-than-respectable second in the annual Tennessee Williams Festival’s “Stella” shouting contest. 

Fortified with what I now realize might have been more bourbon than strictly necessary, I made my way to Jackson Square to sign up—it’s first-come, first-bellow. On one of the balconies lining the square, a panel of judges (including author Calvin Trillin and a niece of Tennessee Williams) shared space with an actress dressed as Stella and an actor dressed as Stanley, to inspire those of us who, for one reason or another, are more likely to be drunk and screaming a man’s name in the night.

I was tenth in a heat of twenty-five, giving me time for another belt of bourbon, which is apparently to my diaphragm as spinach is to Popeye’s arms. When my number was called, I staggered into my spot, fell to my knees, located a primal corner of my being, and let loose. 

“Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanley!”

Fortune favored the bold, and I advanced to the five-person shout-off. After an encore bellow, the results were tallied, and I was awarded second place. Anecdotally, this appears to be the best placement of anyone who’s ever shouted for the “other” Kowalski. Additionally, the first-place winner was a British tourist, so not only am I the American champion, but assuming Miss America rules apply and he be unable to fulfill the functions of the office from distant Liverpool, I am ready to take the oath and shoulder the awesome responsibility of 2018 New Orleans Tennessee Williams Festival “Stella” Shouting Champion.

My ego and Louisiana bona fides burnished, I walked away with an armload of prizes, including tickets to next year’s festival and—what else?—a case of Stella Artois. 

This article originally appeared in our May 2018 issue. Subscribe to our print magazine today.