ThreePirates Opera / Penny of Penzance

So I had to get the drag queen story out of my system. Now to talk about the rest of the show: The Threepenny Opera. A brand new Broadway show that will be starting previews very shortly. I’ve talked about it a little bit before, but last night was the first time I got to see the whole shebang. It was the invited dress, the very first performance in front of an audience. It was neat. The play is by Bertolt Brecht. That name may sound familiar if you were on the Shaw trip this past fall when we went to see Happy End (“Herro, Harrerujah Ririan”), among other things. His form of writing, back in ’29, he called Epic Drama. His goal was to distance the audience from the characters and the plot in order to draw their attention to the production itself. This really pissed us all off in Happy End. But now that I’ve seen Threepenny, it makes a little more sense. But even though it gives me a sense of pretension that I understand a little bit of what’s going on, it’s still a freakin’ weird show. Again, I’ve talked about the background enough, so the show: Sex on stage in neon hot pants. A song titled “The Overwhelming Power of Sex.” Murder, drugs, bisexual make-outs, trannies singing in German (surprisingly well) with subtitles, etc. Truly a bizarre bohemian jewel. I don’t think people are going to like it. At least not the people that can afford to see it. I laughed—a lot. Jim Dale is truly spectacular. Cyndi Lauper surprised everyone with her talent. Nellie MacKay is great. Alan Cumming is simply the coolest person ever. And Ana Gasteyer seems to have found a comfortable new venue. I'm just excited that our education program is bringing in a bunch of kids. Yay. Rah. Hoo. Ha. I just want to go home. And by home I mean Grove City. And by Grove City I mean Pew. Yes, I am fully aware that Pirates of Penzance is going on. The only reason I haven’t talked about it all the time is because I knew I might not be able to go. And I didn’t want to get myself excited. And I didn’t want to get everyone else excited. All just for a big fat disappointment. So that’s where we are: a disappointment. But it isn’t quite as big or as fat. I’ve tried telling myself that watching tech for Threepenny was better because it’s on Broadway. Even when I thought I'd be able to go see Pirates, just because I wanted to gloat. But I just want to do college theatre again. It's been three months and I can't stand it. And it's getting worse. I couldn't sleep last night. I finally nodded off as the sun rose. I do want to say "break a leg" to Robbie - remember that time we were in TC? Meagan - remember that time we were married? Derrick - remember that time we were amazing on stage together? Kate - remember that time we forgot the words for Opera Workshop? Megan - remember that time I knocked you up in back story? Kristen - remember that time you were a witch and I was kind of afraid? Pat - remember that time we both drove to Newark alone? Jes - remember thunder and lightning? Jesse - remember Aquaman? Dan - remember that time you didn't do theatre until I left? Darin - remember that time I was your first director in college? Pierce - remember being the token freshman? Same shoes, buddy. Aaron - remember being in Creative Writing together and I was afraid to talk to you because I felt really awful about your knee? and Doug - remember that time you were allowed to begin your second and more amazing rise to greatness after I sparked your initial decline? Everybody else - I don't know who you are. And I blame you for making me old. I hope you really do break your legs. But really, there’s nowhere I’d rather be right now than in the makeup room, getting makeup put on me while I put my head in Beth’s lap. Or in the costume shop where Caitlin and Laura desperately pin and glue something I broke so I can go out on stage decent. Or in the dressing room with Charlie and Josiah doing God-knows-what. Or in the booth with Shelly and Neil, on com, making fun of all the actors and pretending I’m not one. Or in the practice room with Diana and Megan or with Monica.Or in the gallery with Luke and Berkey, whining because my girly hands hurt and I don’t want to bring in the grand. Or on the grid, looking straight down on the tops of people’s heads, wasting time until they ask me to add more weight. Or sitting with a bunch of children, chewing my fingers raw hoping that everything comes together. Or in the little theatre, standing in a big circle gushing about how great everyone is and how much we’ll miss so-and-so. Or in the green room studying and counting how many people sent me flowers. Or in the back hallway, quietly hating the underclassmen techies for taking up so much space. Or at my locker, finding a note from my secret shark. Or at the Dixon’s for a lovely bite of pizza and brownies and bitter hot tea. Or at Mrs. Craig’s for some gigantic chocolate cake and finger foods galore. Or on an abandoned set couch in the back hall pretending to do homework. Or in the cats, hanging lights and envisioning myself plunging to my death. Or standing between the legs, waiting to go on, completely blanking on my lines. Or… You get the point. I have to work now.