Two days before opening night, and director and actor Collin Kreuzer faces dramatic problems.

The cast of "The Masque of Beauty and the Beast" is about half what he originally planned, and the set has recently been reassembled at a new venue, the Salt Lake Masonic Temple. As the show's producer, he's feeling pressure to fill seats for the run.

Kreuzer, the 44-year-old founder of the grandly named nonprofit Academy of Performing Arts, looks stressed. He steps onstage to deliver his line as a merchant, feeds a line to actor Tanya Felkner (playing sister Haughtense), and then breaks out of the scene to correct the blocking.

Rehearsal is interrupted when his cell phone rings. He takes a call and gives directions to the crew member about where to buy a piece for the set before checking the sound system. "Does anyone have a stereo with a tape player in their car that we can use?" he asks cast and crew. No tape player. He makes a call about that while a crew member waits to ask what nails to use to finish a set platform.

Much needs to happen to open a play in the next 48 hours, but no one in this room doubts the show will go on as long as Kreuzer is in charge. In running the academy, which he founded in 1995, he functions as a jack of all theaterical trades, directing, adapting scripts, building sets, compiling music, designing makeup and acting.

Despite facing his share of obstacles, so far nothing has dimmed Kreuzer's passion for community theater. "I have such a strong belief in the arts and what they do for people and how they can change people's lives," he says. "I think that's why I'm so determined and stubborn now to keep this going. It provides a platform for you to shine."

The backstage story of Kreuzer and his perpetually struggling nonprofit is an example of all the volunteers across Utah who leave day jobs or family obligations to create stage magic at night.

Kreuzer says he found refuge in drama as a "terribly shy" child growing up in Park City. His parents enrolled him in children's theater classes at the University of Utah. "The first day was sheer terror," he recalls. "But it got more comfortable once I got going."

During high school in Park City, he had found his niche in the drama scene. When not in school, he volunteered at Egyptian Theater, known the Silver Wheel Theater.

After high school, he acted in various local productions, before launching his own program. Originally, academy programs targeted at-risk youth, but the nonprofit has changed focus over the years, because as Kreuzer says, "Who isn't at risk?"

At its last location, the academy offered voice and acting classes, but with no permanent home, classes have been put on hold. The community theater arm has a list of some 200 volunteers.

Everything here is accomplished on a shoestring. The theater recycles just about every prop, and the budget for "The Masque" amounted to about $200, not including donations of $600 for insurance and reimbursement of volunteers.

"I have to admit that it's very hard sometimes, and some days I think I can't continue on like this for another day," Kreuzer says. Sometimes he pays himself $200 to $250 a month, but only when money is available.

With no regular income, Kreuzer relies on the generosity of family and friends. "He's always trying to find sponsors, get the word out and find help to keep this going," says Lori Maroney, a five-year academy volunteer. Her daughters, Hannah, 11, and Madilyn, 13, auditioned after watching a friend perform.

"He is dedicated," Maroney says. "He really helps the children and adults fine tune the craft, help them with their movements and boost their self-esteem. The kids love it."

Another of his loyal supporters is 72-year-old Ellen Adamson, who happens to be his mother and the academy's costume designer. "His love and desire for the arts keep him going," Adamson says. "I've never told him to stop, because I can't stop."

Her son is still an introvert, Adamson says, "but when he gets onstage, he just blooms."

Kreuzer's adaptation of "Beauty" was scheduled to open in December at its former home. Instead, the fire department shut down the warehouse at 2207 S. Main St. because of code violations.

Unable to raise enough cash to make repairs, Kreuzer creatively worked around the situation by staging his last two plays in the parking lot. When December rolled around, outside performances weren't possible.

When space became available at the Masonic Temple, Kreuzer jumped to fill it, gathering a fraction of his troupe to stage the postponed show.

"It's good to have an opening date," says Kayla Armstrong, 14, of Fort Herriman Middle School, who is playing Beauty. "It's a big relief because, of course, I want to do the show, but it's been going on for so long not knowing what was going to happen." Kreuzer cast Kayla in her first play when she was 10 and a bit on the timid side, and acting helped her open up, she says.

Rose Bench, the show's choreographer and narrator, said the academy has become her creative outlet and helped her overcome clinical depression. "It's somewhere I can go," says Bench, 23. "These guys are my family, my friends. You just work through it. You do your scenes. You get to get to be another person in that character and that always has helped me worked through my woes."

Over the years, the nonprofit has been housed in five locations, and Kreuzer continues to seek donations, continues to search for students and theatergoers, continues to put on productions with a made-from-scratch vibe.

"The product is great," Kreuzer says, ever the showman. "I say that because of what it does for people. This theater has always been full of 'unlikelies.' They're not the mainstream, confident actors, and that usually makes for a lot of depth."