From the stage to the political arena

Tom Titus

The recent death of Doris Allen, the confrontational and controversial

former speaker of the California Assembly, brought back a multitude of

memories for me -- none of them of a political nature.

Before she ventured into politics, Allen was an accomplished actress

and director in local community theater. When the Daily Pilot first began

honoring a man and woman of the year for significant achievements in

theater a quarter-century ago, in 1974, she and South Coast Repertory

cofounder David Emmes were the first recipients.

What earned her that recognition was a scintillating performance in

the title role of “Mame” at the now-defunct Sebastian’s West Dinner

Playhouse, under the most repressive of conditions. She and the director

were engaged in a private war during the show’s run, but her

professionalism prevailed.

Yet, my memories of Allen go back even further. In 1968, I had written

a play called “Summer Lightning,” which was approved for production at

the Westminster Community Theater with the author making his directorial

debut.

Doris played the second female lead in that show -- or at least she

played the first weekend before a broken ankle in a parking lot tumble

shelved her for the rest of the run. A year later, she was involved in

another original play, written by Sondra Evans, who had taken the leading

role in my show the year before. That play, “The Haunted Wood,” brought

to the stage a young actress named Beth Ciciliot, whom I praised in my

review as “a statuesque picture of cool beauty.”

A year later, in 1970, Allen announced auditions for Tennessee

Williams’ classic drama “A Streetcar Named Desire.” I was halfway through

rehearsals for a play I was directing in Mission Viejo, but I auditioned

nevertheless, something I hadn’t done before nor haven’t since.

I won the part of Mitch and the statuesque Beth was cast as Blanche.

Our stage romance blossomed into a real one and we were married a few

months after “Streetcar” closed.

The marriage lasted 13 years and produced two kids, now grown, who, in

all probability, wouldn’t be around today if Allen hadn’t brought their

mother and father together back in 1970.

Doris left the theater soon after “Mame” closed and won election to

the school board, which became a stepping stone to the state assembly.

The trials and tribulations she encountered as the first female speaker

have been well documented.

Californians can look back on Doris Allen as an object of political

controversy. I remember her as the lady who brought Beth and me together

almost 30 years ago and might still be around today had she not forsaken

the joy of community theater for the stressful, contentious clamor of the

political arena.* TOM TITUS reviews local theater for the Daily Pilot.

His reviews appear Thursdays and Saturdays.