Theater Rage

Took the wife to see Les Miserables on Friday night. I first saw it on my AP English class's trip to London in 1988. It was a big moment in my life: I forgot I existed because I was so wrapped up in the art. We were way, way up high in the fifth level, looking at the tops of the actors' heads, and I knew nothing whatsoever about the show going in, and I was totally transported from myself. In short, I forgot I existed. It was incredible--and incredibly surprising. The idea that this was possible completely blew me away. My heroine-teacher told me later there was a name for this feeling, but I've forgotten it. I just knew I wanted to feel it again as often as possible.

Friday's show was just as fantastic. It featured the original Broadway Thernadiers, the second-ever Valjean, a positively kick-ass Javert and a killer Eponine. The latter is my usual bugaboo with this show. I always wonder why Marius would want to be with Cosette instead of her. I think this feeling was solidified when my folks treated me to tickets in the third row in London in 1991. That Eponine was a young woman from New Zealand...which an article from a quick Google search tells me is Meredith Braun...and I thought she was positively gorgeous. Funny...looking at a photo of her from that show, I don't see now what I saw then. This confirms my new theory...even from the balcony, when I can't see anyone's faces, I get the sense that Eponine is the gorgeous one, and Cosette is not too special. I think it's got nothing to do with looks--it's actually that Eponine's musical parts are so very much more interesting, and a mezzo is so much more fun to listen to than a predictable, boring, another-sweet-little-soprano voice.

Anyhoo. Back to Friday night. I was eager to be transported again. And I almost was. I even teared up during "A Heart Full of Love," which is not one of my usual favorites...it must have been because I was holding hands with my wife while I heard it. But I never quite got there, in spite of the fine cast.

With that in mind, I'd like to send out a giant screw you to some of the people responsible for making the night not as good as it could be.

First, screw you to the women sitting to my immediate left. Maybe you wanted to say things to each other during the show...that's the way it goes sometimes. But could you at least figure out the concept of a whisper? Have you figured out that sound travels? You're right the hell next to each other...lean over and whisper! Don't talk out loud during the whole first act, even after I lean over and say "Will you please be quiet???" I paid $90 for our tickets and have been looking forward to this for about eight months. It's not asking to much for you to either whisper so I can't hear you, or to shut the fuck up. Pick one of those options, ladies, but don't talk aloud.

Maybe they figured out I was feeling theater rage (like road rage, only in a theater) and that their lives were in danger, because they settled down for the second act.

Second, a big screw you to the person responsible for this:

Jean Valjean is about to start the positively resplendent "Bring Him Home." The actor clearly has his A game tonight...he's hit every high note, and hit them with varying emotional range and beauty. He's a stud. The very quiet music begins. Valjean begins the sweet, gorgeous, high song. My jaw drops. I hear the following:

God on hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh...
Hear my pr[CELL PHONE RINGS]aaaaaaaaaaaa[CELL PHONE RINGS]

For a few moments there, my opposition to capital punishment melted away.

Still, a fun night. Glad I went...glad I could introduce my wife to this transformative experience from my youth. And while my tastes have changed a little...I'm not sure I'd feel the same about Les Mis if I saw it for the first time today...it still gets to me big time, and this cast did a helluva good job.