"It was dark that night. A dark that made the dark city all the darker in its darkness.

A few weeks ago, I got a call from The Cell Theatre saying they wanted me to act in their short play festival. At the beginning of the year, I participated in a general audition at the theatre by performing a two-minute monologue. Due to some schedule conflicts, I couldn't compete for a role in a Tennessee Williams play they were to produce, but they called me once again for a different project. They had selected seven 10-minute scripts to be produced in a weekend called The 7, and they wanted me to play the role of Dick in the brief play "Film Noir." This time, I was able to accept.

"It was a dark that was darker than Jessica's cold dark heart. Much darker than the truth I learned that afternoon. Much darker than the black barrel of the gun she was pointing at me.

Anyone who has seen those old Sam Spade movies instantly knows what it means to portray this role. Dick's full title is Private Eye Dick Shovel, and I played him so straight that you can't help but laugh at many of the cheesy cool lines that pop out of his mouth. True to the genre, Jessica enters Dick's office with a gun, constantly threatening to blow him away. Also true to form, Dick throws the lines back at her.

"Oh, it was you. It was always you. Even when it wasn't you, it was still always you."

Jessica was upset with Dick for sleeping with her identical twin sister, and back and forth we went, blaming each other. Jessica was played by a quality local actress named Rachel, and she had the shtick going from the onset. With limited practice time, we had to be off book (lines memorized) by the first rehearsal. Such is the way at the only equity playhouse in Albuquerque. We worked well together and had the scene rolling after the first three hour rehearsal.

"You kill me every time I see you. Long legs that could stop a train. Ass like the back of a new Lincoln."

Even though I had the lines and character down, the blocking established, and laughs a plenty from the audience. I've been battling a case of stage fright every time I start the play. Once we settle into the dialogue, I've been fine, but those first few lines of the play have always been a struggle. I can't definitively explain why. Maybe because I deliver them directly to the audience. Maybe it's because I'm hoping my low smooth cool voice comes out correctly, but for the last three nights, there has been a slight hitch. The audience doesn't notice, but I do. It's one thing to be nervous before performance, but this has been an unexpected and constant challenge for me.

"I was different because of my personal qualities that make me who I am, an individual, or I'm different because I'm the one who told the coppers and the papers you're a killer."

Regardless of my personal internal difficulties, "Film Noir" has been a crowd pleaser. With the seven scripts ranging from absurd to serious to wacky to poetic, a little genre cheese is easy on everyone. The lines just keep coming, and no one has to think to hard to figure out what's going on. It's nice to know with 16 quality actors doing their thing that I can hold my own.

"I guess some dames are just bad news from the get go. That's why there's only one lady for me, and her name is Jack. Jack Daniels."

What would a film noir piece be without a twist or two? Everyone is led to believe that Jessica is the bad girl who went on a killing spree. She reveals that she is really Jessica's twin sister Natalie, which Dick already knew, and he rattles off the truth:

"You see, I plugged Joey V. and put him in my trunk, framing Jessica and angering you so you would shoot her in the head and drop her in my trunk. You never did like it when you thought she had one over on you. I was angry at Jessica for sleeping with Joey V. and I figured after solving all these murders, it was time to commit one. Who would suspect Private Eye Dick Shovel of murder? So then when I was done, I phoned the fuzz and told them where they could find the killer, in my office waving a gun around. Cause I knew the sister would come back after I wouldn't take her calls. Any sister would. And that sister would pretend to be her sister. Too bad the living sister was only so-so between the sheets. So if you're going to kill me, you better do it now cause it's a lot harder to do in the slammer. Then again, you never did have Jessica's sass. Sure, she could have shot me, but you?"

She promptly shoots me twice in the heart.

"I never knew you could be so sassy."

It turns out that the dame is really Jessica, and she lights a smoke to end the scene.

Today, I'll perform "Film Noir" two more times for a total of five performances to mostly full houses, and it will end an extended week of rehearsals and performances. It's been a challenge and a pleasure, but in the end, I know the play brought the laughs and put a smile on many a face. Sometimes, a little genre cheese is what everybody needs.

Chris Jungle has elevated his sass this week.