There’s something I have to get off my chest.

I’ve been a member of the theater community on the South End for a few years now. Not only have I previewed and reviewed a number of the theatrical productions brought to you by several local theater companies, but I have also participated as an actor in some of them, as well.

Having been a student of acting and a working actor for some years during my adult life, I have come to regard the craft of acting with the utmost respect.

It is an art form that calls for the use of one’s body as the main tool of its trade. As art forms go, acting is not as easy as it looks.

Indeed, I think it would be safe to say that most people would not attempt to give a musical performance of any kind unless they were confident they had at least some talent and training that would guarantee the satisfaction of a paying audience.

That said, I refer now to the Friday opening night production of part one of Robert Schenkkan’s epic generational drama, “The Kentucky Cycle,” at Whidbey Island Center for the Arts in Langley.

Using a cast of more than 30 actors for two productions, it’s something of an understatement to say that director Michael Barker had his work cut out for him.

Here is a sweeping epic of three families in eastern Kentucky that spans 200 years of American history from 1775 to 1975, and plays like the most brutal of the Greek tragedies with disease-spreading, kidnapping, rape, arson, land-grabbing, patricide, homicide, adultery and abuse of one’s family being its main actions. No comedy, this.

That’s some mighty meaty subject matter for any actor to take on, let alone actors who may be in the first stages of learning the craft.

I applaud all of them for their efforts.

I also add this somewhat righteous aside for some take-it-or-leave-it edification.

Actors — young, old, black, white, advanced or beginner — remember that the main purpose of your character is to tell the story. That means the most important tool the actor has in his possession is his voice. (Movement is important, too, and walking backwards is never recommended. Learn to plant your feet and speak with your eyes up to the audience, but that is another point.)

The greatest actors in the world spend years honing their voice so that everyone in the theater — no matter where they are sitting, no matter what their age or hearing loss issues may be — can hear every word the playwright has written so that a story may be told. The actors owe that to the playwright. If the audience can’t hear you, then all is lost, and the play becomes very, very, very boring.

Just because the person onstage with you can hear you doesn’t mean the audience can hear you, too.

This is not the first time I have not been able to hear much of what is being said onstage at WICA in the course of an evening. I’ve just never mentioned it before. Having worked with this director, I know he has probably emphasized the point with the actors more than once, but it is ultimately the director’s dilemma to get the actors to project.

Actors, you need to be loud. That is the main thrust of the theater. Project your voice, and never ever fall into a conversational tone onstage.

At many moments during Friday evening’s performance, actors fell into that conversational tone that had me leaning forward in my seat to try and hear the story. Frustrating!

Not every actor during the performance was unheard in every moment, and some actors were unheard consistently more than others. But, almost everyone was too quiet at some point in the evening.

But, thankfully, all was not lost.

Thanks to some very fine staging by Barker, the rich language of Schenkkan’s play, a simple and evocative set, and a cast with the ability to send this play home, “The Kentucky Cycle” (Part One) has all the ingredients for a tour de force.

Here are some of the many highlights: the cold-smile performance of Jim Scullin as the heinous patriarch Michael Rowen; the bounding onstage energy of Ethan Berkley as Sam; the beautiful and tortured face of Laura Persaud as Morning Star and her heartfelt performance; the wailing sounds of Bristol Bloom who reenacts the birth of Morning Star’s child during a heartrending speech by Morning Star; the believability of the savageness of Damien Cortez as Taskwan and the stage picture created by all the Cherokee warriors; the beautiful sound of the Cherokee language handled so well; the sweetness of young love between Patrick Rowen and Rebecca Talbert amidst such violent clamor as played by Berkley and Jenny Zisette; the fine staging and execution of the killing of the two fathers; the mature, unself-conscious performance of Zachary Schneider as the immature Zachariah Rowen; the menacing boom and slovenliness of Dwight Zehm as Ezekiel Rowen; the absolute loyal wifeliness of Laura Boram as Joleen Johnston Rowen; the believable tenderness for a child of Bob Atkinson as Jed Rowen; a job well done by a boy among savage adults by Adrian Cook as Randall Talbert; the devastating stage picture of the persecuted Rose Anne and Julia Anne Talbert as played by T. Addelle Dierking and Carrie Carpenter; the helpful historical photos and text that introduced the scenes; the great period costumes by Valerie Johnson and evocative lighting by Ann Deacon; and the sweet sound of Mira Yamamoto’s fiddle which provided the perfect reminder of one non-violent sound that comes out of Kentucky.

Regardless of some of the mishaps of this production, and if you can keep track of who’s who in the Biggs, Rowen and Talbert families (a family tree in the program helps with that) the story is compelling, even if mainly in a depressing, not-so-much-the-American-dream sort of way.

Part Two opens at 7:30 p.m. Friday, April 16 and shows again at 7:30 p.m. Saturday, April 17 and at 2 p.m. Sunday, April 18. Part One will play again at 7:30 p.m. on Friday, April 23 and Part Two at 7:30 p.m. on Saturday, April 24.

Call 221-8268 or click here for ticket info.