(Are assassin and assassinate some of the words you aren't supposed to write on the Internet/say on a cell, like j*had? Maybe only if it's in close conjunction with the word, "president." Hmmmm.)
The thing about a show where all the main players are cast as lunatics...the eyes have to bug out just so. (Much like this...
The thing about a show where all the main players are cast as lunatics...the eyes have to bug out just so. (Much like this...
...possibly the best picture I've ever seen on the front page of the electronic Post.)
Everybody has to be able to portray intensity. And they do, in spades; enough to *almost* make me fear for my life (that might also have to do with the realistic-looking toy guns shooting loud caps in my general direction). The heat from the theater lights makes it so the requisite sheen of nervous sweat is easily achieved.
I thought I'd seen spare staging for Chicago, but this non-set put the razzle-dazzlers to shame. The entire audience was the set! That first moment, when the giant flag-curtain is dropped, and you are staring into mirror-audience setup is quite startling.
The danger of over-enunciation and close quarters - some of the patrons were sweated/spit upon in the name of art. I have to say I'm glad it wasn't me. Having been sweat upon/kicked by a member of the Julliard trio while page turning, I know it's not the most glamorous fun to be had. On the flip side, as the actors moved about the aisles, I was really, really tempted to stick out my foot as they ran by...
This was a disturbing show. Entertaining? Definitely, but also more than a little creepy, with its message that some people simply go slightly to the *extreme* to be happy/make their mark. I like that it spanned 19th century America, as well as being modern enough to have a bucket of KFC as a prop (I'm easily advertised to - I picked up some on the way home). Ah, Sondheim. Only you would write a love duet sung to Charlie Manson and Jodie Foster (I guess if you can write a love song to a cow...).
Everybody has to be able to portray intensity. And they do, in spades; enough to *almost* make me fear for my life (that might also have to do with the realistic-looking toy guns shooting loud caps in my general direction). The heat from the theater lights makes it so the requisite sheen of nervous sweat is easily achieved.
I thought I'd seen spare staging for Chicago, but this non-set put the razzle-dazzlers to shame. The entire audience was the set! That first moment, when the giant flag-curtain is dropped, and you are staring into mirror-audience setup is quite startling.
The danger of over-enunciation and close quarters - some of the patrons were sweated/spit upon in the name of art. I have to say I'm glad it wasn't me. Having been sweat upon/kicked by a member of the Julliard trio while page turning, I know it's not the most glamorous fun to be had. On the flip side, as the actors moved about the aisles, I was really, really tempted to stick out my foot as they ran by...
This was a disturbing show. Entertaining? Definitely, but also more than a little creepy, with its message that some people simply go slightly to the *extreme* to be happy/make their mark. I like that it spanned 19th century America, as well as being modern enough to have a bucket of KFC as a prop (I'm easily advertised to - I picked up some on the way home). Ah, Sondheim. Only you would write a love duet sung to Charlie Manson and Jodie Foster (I guess if you can write a love song to a cow...).
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