Posts Tagged ‘Drama’

Mark: 4. Fourth Wall: 0

Friday afternoon

Me:  We’re going to a play tonight, Mark.  I need you to remember, it’s a play.  They have lines.  You can’t be shouting advice at the characters.  The people in the audience don’t like it.  You just can’t.

Mark (scoffing):  I’m in middle school now, Mom.  I know.

 

Friday evening

Eliza Doolittle (paraphrased):  You are a jerk and I can get along without you.

Henry Higgins (paraphrased):  Ha, ha.  Good one.  Great joke.  Now come home.

Eliza (paraphrased, singing):  The world gets along without you.  Stuff happens without you making it happen.  Even important stuff.  So sod off, Henry Higgins.

Henry:  (paraphrased):  Ha!  Hahaha!  I am a professor and I can argue this turn of events so I still look good!  You’re acting like a forceful independent person and it’s all thanks to ME.

Eliza stalks over to Henry.  Stands before him.  Tense moment of silence.

Mark:  SLAP HIM!

Guffaws in the audience around us, craning heads in the audience across the theater as people try to work out what was funny.

Sorry, Olney Theatre. We’re working it, I swear.

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Mark Reviews Olney Theatre’s Mary Poppins

After the painful learning experience (to Mark–the production was excellent) of The Diary of Anne Frank, Mark was excited to have our next show be lighter fare.

Me:  “What did you like best about Mary Poppins?”  

Mark:  “I can’t say.  The whole thing was AMAZING.”

(silence while he considers further)

Mark:  “I liked how it had things from the movie and things from the book, AND new things.  But I missed ‘I love to laugh.'”

(interlude while he sings “I Love to Laugh.”  Feel free to sing along at home!

Mark:  “I LOVED the mean nanny.  I mean, she was the EXACT OPPOSITE of Mary Poppins.  Mary Poppins says ‘a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.’  Miss Andrew says ‘trenchcoat and treacle will work.'”

[points to mama here for holding it together as I realize he’s misheard the lyric ‘brimstone and treacle’ as ‘trenchcoat and treacle’.  Bonus points to Mark, though, for filling in an alliterative variant that more or less fits what he saw on stage–she was wearing something like a trenchcoat. ]

Mark:  “And the word shop.  The word shop was AWESOME.”

(interlude while he sings “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”  Free free to sing along at home!)

Me:  “What about the special effects?  Did you like knowing how some of them worked?”

[we attended a pre-performance workshop]

Mark (in a world-weary tone):  “Yes.  But I think I would have figured most of them out.”

Me [judiciously not mentioning his blase attitude now is in marked contrast to the excited whooping that accompanying Mary Poppins flying right over our heads at the end of the production–we were in the balcony]:  “Anything else?”

Mark:  “I thought the child actors were very brave, getting up in front of hundreds of people like that.”

P.S.  The cast was utterly kind, coming out to meet audience members and allowing photos with them.  Mark isn’t blowing after-the-fact smoke about the child actors either; we had to wait until they came out and he could tell them how impressed he was before we could go home.

P.P.S.  All three children were humming Mary Poppins songs Saturday morning (but not the same song), which I have to assume is a mark of a good experience.

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The Chicken is Involved. The Actor is Committed.

So Kate and I went to see ‘Little Shop of Horrors.’

Once again Stanley feeds the wonderfully loathsome dentist to the Audrey II.

Kate (appalled):  “Um.  He didn’t REALLY chop him up, did he?”

Me (misunderstanding the level of reality about which she was asking):  “Oh, yeah.”

Kate stares at the stage,  aghast.  Finally I get it.

Me:  “Not the actor.  Not REALLY.  That’s pretend body parts.”

Kate (much relieved):  “Oh.  Whew.”

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