Imagine a local version of “Ocean’s Eleven,” but with broadcasters instead of bandits.
Justin: Don Shelby, Eric Eskola and other broadcast legends bring ‘Frankenstein’ back to life
Some familiar faces are taking a trip down memory lane.
There, seated around a square table last week, was an all-star crew — former WCCO-TV anchor Don Shelby, KMOJ-FM’s Freddie Bell, “Almanac” co-host Eric Eskola, “A Prairie Home Companion” regular Tim Russell, Infomercial Queen Nancy Nelson and retired WCCO-AM personality Dave Lee — all diligently rehearsing for an old-fashioned radio play.
The atmosphere at Pavek Museum was so nostalgic you could almost smell grandma’s cookies cooling in the kitchen.
But this isn’t just a backslapping reunion. The veterans were hard at work, prepping for a live production of “A Minnesota Frankenstein,” adapted by Lee so that Mary Shelley’s classic takes place in our state (the doctor, played by Shelby, does lab work at the University of Minnesota and a secluded cabin near Grand Rapids).
The only sign of elegance in the conference room was an untouched box of Glam Doll Donuts.
The cheapest tickets for Saturday’s fundraiser are a whopping $120 each, but the St. Louis Park institution, which celebrates the history of TV and radio, shouldn’t have any problem filling the 118 seats. This cast, which also will include MPR’s Cathy Wurzer and WCCO-TV’s Mike Max, would draw folks if all they did was read jokes off Bazooka gum wrappers.
In towns like Minneapolis, where you’re lucky to catch a movie star changing planes at the airport, veteran broadcasters pass as major celebrities. Even the participants seemed a bit awestruck.
“It’s really thrilling,” said Nelson, who can be found these days greeting guests at Chanhassen Dinner Theatres. ”I’m in the cool kids’ club.”
Bell, who is the play’s narrator, was so enamored of the company he was keeping that he occasionally missed his cues.
“I’m sitting across from Shelby,” said the sharply dressed Bell, who apparently didn’t get the memo about casualwear.
During the three-hour rehearsal, the actors tackled the entire script, pausing to work out sound effects with Foley artist Katharine Horowitz and give each other advice. At one point, Russell suggested to Eskola that he rethink his approach to playing the sheriff.
“Make it more conversational, Eric,” said Russell, whose version of the monster is spookier than a Freddy Krueger movie. “Turn back the volume 30 percent. It’ll make the payoff better.”
Later in the session, Nelson, who is serving as director, wondered if they should encourage audience members to boo and cheer at certain spots. There was also debate about the best way to simulate gunfire. Would snapping a clipboard suffice?
The back-and-forth discussion was surprisingly cordial, considering that each of them are used to being in charge and many of them were former work rivals.
“One of the great things about Minnesota journalism and media is that there wasn’t an awful competitiveness,” said Shelby, sporting a baseball cap from the Peabody Hotel in Memphis. “That’s unusual. There’s lots of rancor in media across the country. Maybe it’s Minnesota nice, but we have friendships and respect for each other.”
Current media personalities get their fair share of accolades. But the people in this room were on the air when local anchors and radio hosts were as trusted and respected as priests. They gave it to you straight, no chaser. Nelson said that when she worked in newsrooms, she never knew the politics of her colleagues — and that was a matter of pride.
“Today’s personalities are worried about their personal brands,” Eskola said. “This is a case of us being a collective without ego.”
This isn’t the first time Pavek has assembled Minnesota Broadcast Hall of Famers for a radio play. Last year, the museum marked its 35th anniversary with a production of Orson Welles’ “The War of the Worlds” starring many of the same cast members.
Within the first few minutes, Lee knew they had something special.
“When the music hit and Freddie came in with those pipes, I thought, ‘This is going to work,’” he said.
“Frankenstein” should be an equal thrill, another throwback to the days when you would spend the evening huddled around the radio to listen to “The Shadow” and “Gunsmoke.”
But Saturday’s event, which also includes a meet-and-greet opportunity for those who fork out a little more dough, will trigger a different sense of nostalgia.
“We are this community that was invited into people’s living rooms and we were family members,” Nelson said. “They don’t forget you. Even though we are aging, they still care that we’re here. We’re still in their memory banks.”
Pavek After Dark: ‘A Minnesota Frankenstein’
When: 7 p.m. Sat.
Where: Pavek Museum, 3517 Raleigh Av., St. Louis Park.
Tickets: $120-$200 at pavekmuseum.org.
The move brings Woolridge and her partner, a fellow journalist, to the same city for the first time in their careers.