Surprise!... Best. Mood. Ever. (part I)
The first part of the title is easy: I swiftly--quiet like the ninja--spent Friday night... in Albion! Funny thing about Albion, I only let Bohne and Randi know I was coming... and by the time I got there, my presence was not really a surprise. Ah... the massive interweaving that is Albion. How I... will never miss that. Oh well. I went to admissions at 5 to pick up Randi from work. I had been meaning to force Randi to show me her building... but I forgot by the time I actually got to Albion and saw her. Fortunately for me, Randi mentioned that we had to make "one quick stop" before dinner. She had actually planned on giving me a tour! So I got to see the whole equestrian facility. I was surprised that I didn't see a single swimming pool. (*Rimshot*) Thank you, I'll be here for a lot longer than I planned. I don't know what I was getting at there, but my point is that I finally got a chance to see Randi's building: The Randi Cristine Heathman Memorial Arena and Breakfast Buffet. It was impressive. Ooh, now I'm just being an ass. In all honesty, I was very proud to see it. It was as if something that I saw Randi create, something that I was around when it was created... came to fruition. There it was: all of Randi's hardwork... the nights spent on her thesis; from idea to actual... I give Randi a lot of shit about having a building but, seeing it, I was very proud of her.
After seeing RCH Memorial, Randi and I went to Applebees in Jackson... taking the 'long way.' We were able to catch up on A LOT of stuff even before we got to Applebees (which means I was able to laugh at her for a lot of stuff). And then, when we got there, we had perhaps the busiest waitress in the history of food service. I was pleasantly surprised to see that Applebees is trying to keep up with TGIFridays in that they too have a "appetizer, entree, desert" special. So I got the 'Italian' one which included logs of fried cheese (better known as mozzarella sticks). It was SO MUCH food... and when I ordered dessert I was already pretty full. Thankfully Randi agreed to share with me (but she won't agree that we've been on enough dates to make us, technically, newlyweds). (It's true). So I ordered this white chocolate/raspberry cheesecake (sounds good, doesn't it?), and the busy waitress brought the brownie thing instead. If there had been less people there, I probably would have made her bring it back... but, as it was, she dropped off the plate at the table and left so fast I didn't even get a word out such as "But..." or "Hey!". The brownie was good. Heehee... I'm being boring on purpose because I'm not sure if I should include what Randi and I talked about and my reaction to it or not. I suppose I can say this: For all the shit I give Randi, I'm very proud of how she's handling the difficult life-style that is an admissions recruiter. The more I heard about what she does, the more it sounded like the life my friend Adam leads as a stand-up comedian: A life of both solitude and heightened sections of being 'on' for other people. "If it was easy, everyone would do it"
Then it was time for the show: Cabaret. As Randi and I approached the theatre, we saw Starko outside taking a phone call. I said hello and told him that I was expecting big things! He said that I was not the only alumni in the audience tonight. The other one of note: Jimmy Shy! Holy crapballs! He made the trip from D.C. I can't wait to get into the theatre and... what's the deal with this line of people? The line stretched from the box office to the front door of the Dow. And there Randi and I were, at the end of it. I'm pretty sure I made a comment once or twice about being too important to wait in line... but no one else thought it was true. And Randi thought I was an idiot... and always feels embarrassed when I drag her out in public. But she didn't have to feel embarrassed for long, because my night of having people say "hey... I remember you!" started right away. Mrs. Green, Karen's mom, was waiting out in the lobby when Randi and I arrived. She was giving directions to the theatre to her other daughter, Kathy, who was running late to see the show. She was on the phone and gave me a little wave... and then proceeded to move in for a hug. "Why not?" I thought. Then I waited about a minute until she was off the phone, and she and I started talking. She was complimentary (saying I looked good, had obviously lost weight, and looked younger) and was positive about what I was doing in Chicago. And, as she was telling me a story about her most recent trip to Chicago, we were interrupted by "John Steeno!" Mr. Jason Kennedy had entered and was now behind me in line. I shook his hand and was about to go back to talking to Mrs. Green when she took what she thought was her cue to leave. I was, in fact, wanting to go back to the conversation... but I've seen other parents do it to: when one of our peers start talking to us, they think it's a sign to move on. It just sucks because I wanted to hear about her trip to Chicago. Don't get me wrong, I like Jason Kennedy (yes, I said it... and I say it again, 'I like him'), but that was rude and just flat out unclassy to interrupt me during a conversation. Regardless, it happened, and I was now talking to Jason about what is up with him. He's in Cinncy doing something that sounds terribly boring and like something he didn't want to do when he got there. I'm always interested to see if he's still writing because, despite the obvious flaws to some of his work... he does write pretty memorable shit. I mean, you still remember most of it, and some of you never even heard or read his stuff. Additionally, despite the weirdness to a lot of it... I could see what he was trying to do with his work, and my frustration stemmed from it being so close but just not quiet there. I know some of the people in the writing circle (I'm not naming names, but they might respond to this post... so they'll name their own names) thought his writing was pure shit... but I always thought it was just on the verge of being something very good. And I thought he had the drive to make his work better... which a lot of writers don't have (I've even worked with one of those people here at Second City. His stuff was good... but he never did rewrites. I guess he just figured he was done with it after the first draft).
After the long wait in line, Randi and I finally got tickets (Randi remarked halfway to the ticket booth "I guess I should have picked these up this afternoon"... to which I responded "Stab" in her face). As we got the tickets, we saw that Dr. Crupi was a few people in line behind us. We waited for him to get his tickets and then I forced him to say he's going to teach for another year. Yes, you can all thank me for Dr. Crupi, arguably the best teacher I ever had, teaching for one more year after this one. I did it by the cunning use of the phrase "I cried when I heard you were retiring" which I expertly followed by "A part of me died inside that day." I didn't actually say the last bit... but the crying bit I did say.
Randi and I FINALLY made it into the theatre... and it was already pretty packed. We were having a tough time figuring out where we could get two seats next to each other. Actually, Randi had a tough time... I was just looking for Jim. What? Randi and I work as a team... she does the "work" portions and I do the "fun" stuff. Both are equally important. Fortunately for us, they worked in conjunction... as there were two empty seats right behind Jim. Unfortunately for me, the seats were in the middle of a very full row of people (and I HATE stepping over and around people to get into a seat), AND the woman next to the empty seats did the "hand palm down over seats" thing which normally means "these seats are reserved"... so I got to our row thoroughly confused. I decided to roll with it... and I think about half the theatre was watching me and Randi decide whether or not to move into the middle of this row. Enough people were watching, at least, that I heard another "John Steeno" from in front of me and saw that one girl from choir whose name escaped me both then and now. I am a terrible man with a terrible memory. At least I waved.
And, for all the crap Randi and I had to go through to actually get to our seats... we might have had the best seats in the house. We were dead center stage, about half-way up. Pretty sweet how that all works out, eh?
THE PLAY'S THE THING
I know that most people don't care what I thought about the play, but please just humour me (in England). I had never seen Cabaret. I had never heard the score to Cabaret. I knew very little about Cabaret besides the fact that it was a musical (which I historically hate), and it was one of those "emotional" musicals that aren't funny but are supposed to make you think or something (which I think I hate more than just normal musicals). So, I'm not going to lie, I went into this play thinking that I would support my friends, and tell them they did well if they did or awkwardly try to find words if they didn't do particularly well. To say I was pleasantly surprised is probably the most understated understatement in the history of statements made under things. (huh?) Because this was such a strong PLAY (even though it had music), I'm going to treat it like I would any other play.
The audience was immediately hit by the strength of Groggel's character. Like him or not, the audience had to immediately recognize how solid the character was in voice/accent, personality, and even in song. All I could think was "Oh shit... that's good." I liked the space right away, too. The orchestra was above the stage, looking down on the action from a place that I am very impressed they felt comfortable being... there was one stairway on stage that led up to a catwalk in front of the orchestra (which I figured they'd use for grand entrances, and they did). The revolving stage was interesting, too... allowing for another scene to be set up while the audience watched the current one. I'm sure this took a lot more coordination than the audience ever recognized... and isn't that the purpose of good stage-hands? We only noticed them when something went wrong (which happened once, yes... but the audience was a whole lot more appreciative of the process after we saw it take four or five guys to rotate the stage).
Then we were introduced to Cliff (Bohne). Michael Joseph did a fabulous job, but I must say that his character isn't interesting until almost the end of act one. As the only American in the show, Cliff represents the American audience and, as such, is the personification of the audience's naivete and wonder while in this new fascinating world. As such, we saw a lot of Bohne standing and reacting to what these weird new people were saying... and we saw Bohne having to react to other people's songs on stage, too. Do NOT get me wrong, Bohne played it extremely well... it's just not a very interesting role until near the end of the first act when we see him take a stand against Nazism. But there, again, he is simply the personification of the American point of view. And I wish he would have sang more in the show. But that's just me.
We were introduced to Fraulein Schneider. The audience has an instant (I feel) connection to her and Herr Schultz. As good as this script is (and it's very good), these are the two "real" characters that the audience is allowed to care about right away. Even characters that we eventually care for, allow us in too late in the game for us to really connect with them. Cliff, as I mentioned before, is too reactionary for us to connect with his character; and there's something so obviously fake about Sally Bowles... she is obviously running from something, doesn't let us know where she's from, hops from man to man by the week... that we find it hard to connect to her character until near the end of act one as well. But there was an instant connection to Schneider, who lets Cliff stay for less than she normally takes for the room. But her laissez faire attitude exemplified by the "So What" song is a bit of a farce... because that's not really her character. I'm still confused as to why she sings that song... because she obviously cares about what Fraulein Kost is doing, and she cares when Sally decides to move in, and she cares about Schultz. So that song sung by that character makes no sense. Regardless, Feder was lovable as Schneider... and the whole show could have been her and Schultz and I don't know if anyone would have minded.
But that would have been a fluffy/happy play. And that wasn't this particular play. We wait patiently, as an audience, throughout the entire first act for something big to happen, and we are not disappointed. When Ludwig took off his jacket at the marriage reception to reveal the Nazi armband, the entire audience went "Gasp!" and I went "Gasp! Oh... that's good. That's so good." Ludwig (Minjoe) had won over the audience throughout the entire first act... and seeing a "good guy" with the armband brings in so many deep seeded feelings, that they just exploded out of the audience in a *gasp* (or they were rapidly exchanged for oxygen... hence the gasp). The feelings we have against Nazis are SO GREAT that to hear them singing the "Tomorrow Belongs To Me" song is incredibly powerful. So powerful, in fact, that it didn't need to be cheese-dicked up by adding the "spooky" lights and having everyone on stage put on their "scary" face. I would have been far more impressed had the Nazis presented themselves as they had a second before: happy, German people. I suppose we have such strong feelings of hate that we can't possibly imagine Nazis as normal people. But that's where the power of this moment came from... why not play it up? Minjoe still could have looked ominous... but it would have been more effective, to me, had the rest of the chorus sang it neutrally... or even happily. I thought the addition of the dancers surrounding the audience with Nazi armbands added to the effect... and could have helped alleviate the "need" for the chorus to look psychotic out of nowhere trying to emphasize the fact that Nazis are bad.
But, at that moment, I saw a play for the first time in a very odd way: I saw it as if from a blimp... watching the performance of the play, watching the audience reacting, watching myself reacting, and watching the writing itself. It was a transcendent experience... being able to see the writing, the direction, the acting, and the effect it had on an audience simultaneously. And, even though it was done a little cheese dick, it was still incredibly powerful and moving.
So moving, in fact, that I had to use the restroom. It was the intermission, so it was all good. And, during intermission, I got a chance to see Royal... my surrogate father. Aww... I miss Royal. I know. There are few connections as deep and as meaningful as a good director and an actor who work well together. And that's exactly what it was: a work relationship... that 'worked' so incredibly well. Joe Janes is the new Royal... because I think he and I work well together. It starts with a mutual level of respect, and that needs to couple itself with being on the same page and having the same vision, and you have to be able to add to that an easy back-and-forth communication... I think it's probably pretty rare, which is why I feel such a strong connection to Royal and to Joe.
The only thing I'm going to say about act two (besides that it was good and that we were able to connect to all of the characters finally) was that the ending was very well done. They didn't do a normal curtain call... they did a kind of tableau and the lights went to blue and I thought to myself "My God... this IS the curtain call." I had wanted to stand and applaud them, because the show was so well done (what Robert McKee would call "Good Story Well Told") that I wanted to show my appreciation. In my defense, I noticed while it was happening that I should be standing... but I didn't notice soon enough. They were off stage, and I knew they weren't coming back. It's interesting... because the whole audience waited for them to come back. I ended up being the first one to stand (Alex Rivera was actually first, but most people couldn't tell. Redwood Whore!). Such a fabulous moment... but I wish I had been faster. *shakes head* Old guys... what can you do?
Against my better judgment, I stuck around for the adjudication. I actually agreed with a lot she had to say, but she then proceeded to say the most tactless thing I've ever heard at an adjudication. She mentioned one of Andy's costumes not fitting particularly well around the waist and she thought that was a great costuming move as it added to the humor of his character. In response, Andy said that her ugly face was a good move too, as it added to the humor of her adjudication. Foilage! I've got nothing.
End Part I... please flip tape over and start side two.