With the latest (and last) Harry Potter film out for a month now, I’d say it’s high time this blog dipped into Pottermania.  This post will (as always) contain more spoilers than it probably should, but - come on - if you haven’t read HP yet, you’d better get on that.

Harry Potter has been a big deal in my (and pretty much everyone ever’s) life since my early childhood.  I was younger than Harry was in the first book when I started reading them, but we were exactly the same age by the time the seventh book was released (which a lot of people my age boasted about, myself included.  I was a bit of a seventeen-year-old snot).  So the kids of my generation can easily say we grew up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, which makes their story all the more special to us.  So the translation of such a beloved book into film would of course be held under far more scrutinizing eyes.  And it was.  Oh boy, it was.

Leaving a Harry Potter movie, you almost immediately hear various groups within the (probably massive) crowd discussing either how the movie f-ed up the book at this moment or that, or whether Daniel Radcliffe or Rupert Grint grew into themselves better (that debate will have to be saved for another time).  I won’t pretend that some changes made in the films didn’t irk me (that Harry/Ginny kiss in the Room of Requirement?  Wasn’t into it.), but I personally don’t mind it when an adaptation diverges slightly from the original source.  While it shouldn’t stray so far off the map that the title is the only thing that’s recognizable (Ella Enchanted movie - you are so on my shit list), certain changes are often necessary to create the flow and tone that a decent film rendering of the story requires.  Believe it or not, the film is telling its own version of the story, not presenting a carbon copy of the book.  Nor would I want to see a word-for-word, scene-for-scene rehash of the book.  Plus, watching that thing would take about a three days with no pee breaks.  No fun for anyone.

That being said, I want to take a look at a few moments from the movies in comparison to their presentation in the books.  Of course, there are many more moments than these three I could talk about, but in the interest of space and (your) time, we’ll keep it to these little gems.

The Veil/Sirius’s Death - The Order of the Phoenix

The whole Department of Mysteries sequence in the fifth film is a home run for me.  One of my fondest memories of reading the books is sitting up in bed at 2am in a dark and silent house, save for the little reading light.  I was shaking, scared, and stressed out as Harry and the gang marched along the rows of prophecies, searching for Sirius.  My heart nearly stopped when Lucius Malfoy, stepping out of the darkness (which, to my horror, he had easily been hiding in, watching them, all along), demanded that Harry hand over his prophecy.  At that point I had to force myself to go to sleep, I was so freaked.  That is the kind of feeling that makes me a book lover - the kind of intensity and investment I hope to achieve whenever I immerse myself into a story.  And I was just as into it in the film - the overwhelming darkness, the silence (so powerful in a film), the sudden, unwelcome sound of an enemy voice pervading the space - well done, movie #5, I was sold. 

But the pinnacle moment of the DoM sequence is, of course, Sirius’s death.  I’ll admit, I was at first disappointed with the film’s rendering of the infamous veil that Sirius’s body falls through, never to be seen again.  There was something so striking to me about the image of a simple cloth veil fluttering in windless space.  But the sort of rippling water veil they depict in the movie is not make for a neat-looking shot.  The image of Sirius falling into and abyss that sends him floating away from Harry has a strong sense of finality to it.  We have literally watched him dissolve into nothingness - we will never see him in flesh and blood again.  Appropriate for the film’s story - not for the book’s.  In the book, Harry’s reaction reflects our own - desperate denial.  We have only seen Sirius fall behind a swaying cloth.  Can’t remember what the spell that hit him looked like.  His body could still be intact, he could emerge at any second, the fighting spirit only knocked out of him temporarily…which makes the fact that he never emerges so much more heartbreaking.  Likewise, in the movie, we achieve a similar reaction to film-Harry.  The muting of all sound in the moments following Sirius’s ascent into the enchanted veil does not reflect denial - it conveys the complete halt of everything, a dulling of our senses.  Nothing matters once Sirius is dead - rage and grief mute Harry - and us - to everything that surrounds him.  The battle, the destruction, the reason this fight is happening in the first place - all are gone and replaced with a need for vengeance, which is channeled into the burst of sound and movement as Harry chases after Bellatrix following the silence.  Yeah, I’ll buy that.

The Evolution of Magical/Spell Aesthetic - 1-7

Ok, so this is less of a moment than a cross-film observation.  A few friends and I were talking about the movies recently, and one of them pointed out how the look of the different spells has changed over the course of the seven movies.  While in the earlier films, spells such as Expelliarmus looked somewhat hoaky, they attained a more “sophisticated” (for lack of a better word) appearance later on.  They looked less like how an average muggle would assume something magical to appear, and more like a wizard or witch, already well-incorporated into the magical world, would see them.  He used this as sort of a testament to how the quality of the films themselves have improved over time (which I absolutely agree with).

So how can such an obvious change in a spell’s appearance be justified in these adaptations?  It doesn’t seem like a spell is just going to randomly up and change its look (although some could argue that it’s magic and there are no rules - which I think is a bit of a cop-out).  Here’s one solution that I’m offering:

Say that the audience is guided through this magical world through Harry’s eyes.  Harry, after all, starts from the same place that we muggles do.  Prior to his eleventh birthday, wizard magic was just as fantastical and imaginary to him as it is to us.  Therefore, I imagine certain spells and other elements of the wizarding world do appear a bit hoaky or borderline cheesy to him at first.  After all, the first couple books are the main ooh and aah inducers of the series - this fantastical world is being established for us, and we can’t help but gawk in wonder along with Harry.  So we see spells, quidditch, enchanted ceilings, and animated chocolate frogs as Harry does - with brand new, and slightly disbelieving eyes.  It is not until later, when Harry is fully immersed into the elements of this world that we are too, and thus the spells and such take on a more serious quality.  Some of these spells are accepted as serious weapons, and thus their appearances are less bright-and-shiny, instead harken to fierce images of fire and lightning, or become invisible.  Some no longer possess a visual embellishment, because their power is distinct and accepted without it.  So there.

Voldemort’s Death - The Deathly Hallows pt. 2

The money shot.  This is the moment the whole 7-book/8-movie series has been building up to - is it even possible to get it just right?  If not, pretty damn close seems to be attainable.

Now, if I had to choose between the book’s rendition of Voldemort’s death or the movies, I would absolutely pick the book’s (and not just because it is the “obvious” choice).  After all the destruction reaped in the war, the buildup from the murder of Harry’s parent’s to the final showdown between the Boy Who Lived and He Who Must Not Be Named, Voldemort’s physical death is rather simple - he is struck by the curse and falls to the ground.  No bursting into flames, explosions, or grand finales.  In the end, Voldemort was merely mortal, no different in that respect from anyone else, and thus, he failed in his ambition to transcend mortality and, in turn, humanity.  He couldn’t have met a more terrible end under his terms.

That’s not to say the film’s version of his death is not without merit.  Yes, a more simple death is more appropriate for the books, but the movies often call for a “grander” image (which I suspect is also the case with the veil) - so while his death in the books was perfect for the books, it may not of come across as well or as striking on film.  Thus, Voldemort’s disintegration into ash upon receiving the killing curse works quite well.  The film’s interpretation of Voldemort’s final state therefore diverts slightly from the book’s.  Not only has Voldemort failed to transcend humanity, but he has also failed to even be classified under humanity.  He is so much less - no longer flesh and blood, he is essentially reduced to nothing.

Successful adaptations are not easy to create, particularly since everyone (especially with such a beloved text) has different criteria for a truly successful adaptation.  But I think these films deserve a lot of credit.  They provide a unique experience of a beautiful story, and while nothing can beat curling up with one of those seven (heavy) volumes and letting the action unfold in my head, it sure feels nice to be given different, fresh perspective once in a while.

The Oscars are kind of like Christmas 2 for me (or Hanukah 2…depends on which parent you ask).  Some people call it “too much.”  I call it enthusiasm.

So far, I have seen all but two of the Best Picture nominees (if anyone has access, preferable free of charge, to “Winter’s Bone” and/or “127 Hours,” do not hesitate to hit me up).  2010 has turned out to be one helluva year for movies in general - the last five or six movies I’ve seen have been anything but disappointing.  So I am particularly excited about this year’s Oscar race.  Below are my particular favorites - had I any power in the selection process, these are the ones who would be going home with a bald, golden naked man on Oscar night (I haven’t quite taken the Academy over yet - they’re my next stop.  After that, the world).

And see these movies if you haven’t already - don’t let 2010 go just yet.

Best Picture

Nominees:  The Social Network, The King’s Speech, Winter’s Bone, 127 Hours, Inception, Toy Story 3, The Fighter, Black Swan, True Grit, The Kids Are All Right

Heinous Snub: “Blue Valentine” - one of my favorites of the year and one of the most “real” - it manages to both fill and break your heart with its masterful out-of-sequence storytelling.

My Pick:  The Fighter

It was a tough call between “The Fighter,” “Black Swan,” and “True Grit” for me.  “Black Swan” stayed with me for weeks after, leaving an impression that was visceral, disturbing, and deeply compelling.  The Coen Brothers managed to make a truly old-fashioned western with “True Grit” work for a modern audience - it was thrilling, suspenseful, and had some damn good one-liners delivered by Jeff Bridges that made you forget about John Wayne’s original take on the role.  But David O. Russell’s “The Fighter” made my pulse beat faster than “Black Swan,” “True Grit,” and “Inception” combined - and I assure you we are still talking about “the boxing movie.”

The old stand-by goes that if you’ve seen “Rocky,” you’ve pretty much seen every boxing movie.  The genre has fixed itself into a workable mold - and Russell does not shy away from it, which makes the film all the more spectacular.  While still honoring the familiar formula (there’s even a “Rocky” moment as Mickey Ward - played by the one and only Marky-Mark Wahlberg - runs through the streets of his town in sweats, training for the final showdown), it gives us a boxing movie that does not feel like a boxing movie.  The transitions between scenes alone make this movie brilliant - superb direction, a fantastic script, and knock-out (forgive the pun) performances ALL around don’t hurt, either.  People in the audience of the showing I saw actually clapped after each match.  I might have cried…

What will win: It’ll be a battle between “The King’s Speech” and “The Social Network,” but my money’s on the latter.

Best Director

Nominees:  David O. Russell, “The Fighter”; Darren Aronofsky, “Black Swan”; Joel and Ethan Coen, “True Grit”; Tom Hooper, “The King’s Speech”; David Fincher, “The Social Network”

Heinous Snubs:  Christopher Nolan, “Inception” (my biggest current director crush) and Derek Cianfrance, “Blue Valentine”

My Pick:  David O. Russell, “The Fighter”

My reasons listed above are pretty much the same here.  Again, I was knocked out by the Coens and Aronofsky, but Russell has a clear gift for “real-life” storytelling that needs to be recognized immediately.

What will win:  David Fincher, “The Social Network” (I’d be ok with this - anyone who directed “Fight Club” is all right by me.  And “The Social Network” is certainly deserving of the praise it’s gotten.)

Best Actor

Nominees:  Javier Bardem, “Biutiful”; Jeff Bridges, “True Grit”; Jesse Eisenberg, “The Social Network”; Colin Firth, “The King’s Speech”; James Franco, “127 Hours”

Heinous Snubs: Ryan Gosling, “Blue Valentine”; Robert Duvall, “Get Low” - I am so mad about these snubs I can’t even comment on them.

My Pick:  Colin Firth, “The King’s Speech”*

While “The King’s Speech” was my least favorite of the Best Picture nominees that I’ve seen (no tomatoes or flaming torches, please), the acting was pretty spectacular (no doubt helped by the excellent screenplay), and Colin Firth is hilarious and heartbreaking as King George VI.  Not to mention the guy is long overdue for some real Academy lovin’.

*My pick for this one comes with an addendum.  Though I have not yet seen “Biutiful,” I have seen the trailer multiple times, and I swear, from one moment in the 90-second clip, you can tell that Bardem’s performance is beyond spectacular.  So while Firth is excellent and deserving, Bardem will be my “asterik” pick, just from the trailer.  Go watch it - I bet you’ll know the moment immediately.

What will win: Colin Firth, “The King’s Speech”

Best Actress

Nominees: Michelle Williams, “Blue Valentine”; Natalie Portman, “Black Swan”; Annette Bening, “The Kids Are All Right”; Nicole Kidman, “Rabbit Hole”; Jennifer Lawrence, “Winter’s Bone”

Heinous Snubs: Julianne Moore, “The Kids Are All Right” - she delivered just as well as Annette Bening.

My Pick: Natalie Portman, “Black Swan”

Part of me really wants to give this to Michelle Williams - one of the most critically-loved and commercially-underrated actresses working today - but I can’t get Natalie Portman’s deeply committed (and thus all the more disturbing/compelling) performance in Aronofsky’s ballet thriller out of my head.  She deserves an award for having to live in the terrifying world and mind of Nina Sayers alone (although some would argue the fiance and baby she got out of the gig are awards enough already).

What will win: Natalie Portman, “Black Swan”

Best Supporting Actor

Nominees: Christian Bale, “The Fighter”; John Hawkes, “Winter’s Bone”; Geoffrey Rush, “The King’s Speech”; Mark Ruffalo, “The Kids Are All Right”; Jeremy Renner, “The Town”

Heinous Snubs: Matt Damon, “True Grit” (the guy didn’t have a tongue for half the movie, for crying out loud); Andrew Garfield, “The Social Network” (held up very well as the moral center in a film full of assholes)

My Pick: Christian Bale, “The Fighter”

All I can tell you is to see this movie.  Bale is at his best, which, if you’ve seen him in anything else, is pretty damn incredible.

What will win: Christian Bale, “The Fighter”

Best Supporting Actress

Nominees: Amy Adams, “The Fighter”; Helena Bonham Carter, “The King’s Speech”; Hailee Steinfeld, “True Grit”; Jacki Weaver, “Animal Kingdom”; Melissa Leo, “The Fighter”

Heinous Snubs: Mila Kunis, “Black Swan” - She’s on “Family Guy” AND held her own against Barbara Hershey and Natalie Portman.  Come ON, guys!

My Pick: Melissa Leo, “The Fighter”

I (like the Academy) love mother characters, and Melissa Leo stands out (along with Christian Bale) in cast that’s as close to perfect as you can get - and that is quite a feat.  Again, see the movie.

What will win: Melissa Leo, “The Fighter”

For the sake of keeping an already long post reasonably short, I’m going to leave my picks at that (we all know “Inception” is going to sweep the technical awards anyway).  Remember to watch come Oscar night!  And please, PLEASE go see these films whenever you can - it’s been a year of instant classics, and almost all of these movies stayed with me in a way that only really great films can.

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee,

The more I have, for both are infinite.”

It’s the most done out of all of Shakespeare’s works.  It’s a cliché to call it your favorite.  No one really understands what the hell Queen Mab has to do with any of it.  

Say what you will, but there’s nothing quite like Romeo and Juliet (which, by the way, is my favorite Shakespeare.  I also love the Queen Mab speech).  It could be the poetry, the killer Mercutio/Tybalt fight scene, that ending that can still manage to steal the breath right out of you (even though you’ve known the outcome since you could read) – whatever it is, there’s a good reason why this play is his most popular.

But since this play has been a constant part of the zeitgeist, so has a rather heated debate surrounding its title characters: Were Romeo and Juliet actually in love, or just very hormonal?

Now, I have always been of the firm belief that they were the real deal.  That’s not to say that I don’t see the other side’s argument (i.e. “They were in lust, goddammit!”), which is certainly valid.  But I think if you, as an audience member, believe that, you’re missing the real point of the piece (and not to mention a remarkable theatrical experience).  If you’re directing it under such an opinion, you would be doing your production an incredible disservice – everything onstage would feel shallow.  And shallow this play ain’t.

We go to the theatre to suspend our disbelief.  Romeo and Juliet asks its audience, to believe that something truly extraordinary happened between these two people - something that may not have happened before and may never happen again, but that is not wholly impossible.  But the extreme hate that drove the lives surrounding the lovers was able to destroy this uniquely beautiful thing.  Shakespeare did not set out to write about a teenage romance that “probably wouldn’t have lasted anyway.”  He wrote about a love between two people, who happened to be kinda young, that was made short by a stronger, malignant force.  I think the vast majority of us would like to believe that “love can conquer all” - but unfortunately, hate has just as strong a hold and is hell-bent on destruction.  Billy Shakes presents us with an old-fashioned moral: live your life by the love you feel, and not by the hate that kills it.  Yes, it’s corny, and yes, what I’m saying is kind of obvious – but that doesn’t make this message any less profound.

I just saw a beautiful production of R&J that did not shy away from the fact of the lovers’ youth.  In this version, Romeo is kind of lanky and awkward, and Juliet is filled with vibrant, youthful optimism, barely able to articulate her thoughts at the rate she expresses them.  But from the minute these two find each other to the moment of their deaths, their love gradually matured them.  As the show went on, I realized that I was no longer watching a pair of kids caught up in the early heat of romance.  These were two people genuinely in love, mature enough to give everything they had for each other.  I was so moved by the show, I could barely sleep that night.  The respect I have for the director is “as boundless as the sea.”

This production, by the way, was completely student-produced (all of them undergrads).  I really wish this show could’ve reached a wider audience besides the student body of Northwestern University (and some of their parents).  As a further point in my apparently endless “respect our youth” argument, it just goes to show what young people are capable of.  Be it professional-quality theatre or true love…no one should be so quick to rule anything out.

Yeah, I’m a bit of a die-hard romantic.  But hey, maybe that’s why I’m in theatre. :)

I’ve always been one of those people who cries during movies (or, in my case, movies, books, tv, theatre…etc.).  Sometimes it can be annoying as hell - like when you can’t quite keep your cool while surrounded by a group of dry-eyed strangers (who probably don’t have souls anyway).  But for the most part, I really like that I’m this way.  I think it not only attests to the fact that I’ve chosen the right line of work, but also to the inexplicable ability of art to make us really feel.  These are not just silly reactions to artificial circumstances - art in any form has this really beautiful ability to tap into a corner of our souls and awaken something that may not come out in everyday life.  Every time I feel my throat getting tight while watching/listening to a piece, I find it very satisfying.  So for this post, I wanted to share with you some of my favorite tear-inducing moments in Film, Television, Literature, and Theatre (music can often have this effect on me as well, but most of these moments go with theatre).  Due to my tendency to ramble on (and no academic obligation to limit my words), there may be a lot here, so be warned.  Also, take caution that many (not all) of these moments are “spoilers” - if you come across a section discussing a piece that you have not seen, but are planning to, please skip it.  If you so choose, that is - if you’re anything like me, it won’t matter if you know beforehand.  You’ll still find yourself a complete mess when the big moment comes.  :)

“West Side Story” - I could really give you a list of things that make me cry in this show.  ”Tonight” and “Somewhere” are some of the most beautiful pieces of music ever written, and I can’t help myself when they start playing.  But what really does me in is, of course, Tony’s death.  As Tony lays dying, he painfully tells Maria that love just couldn’t overcome the hate that dominated their world.  In an effort to keep him with her, she sings a couple lines from “Somewhere,” barely able to get the notes out for the sobs choking her voice.  That whole final scene is so unbelievably tragic and beautiful - I can barely see the screen as I’m typing right now.  So much is said about hate and love and life itself without any clear-cut resolution for the characters.  One of the best musicals ever written, hands down.

*Side note:  During this moment in the production I saw on Wednesday, the people sitting next to me laughed because the gunshot made them jump.  I know it’s a normal human reaction, but still - I was beyond pissed.

Brecht’s “Mother Courage” - There’s a very small bit at the end, when Kattrin is up on a roof beating on the drum to warn the villagers of their impending doom, and the soldiers (harbingers of said doom) are keeping a family hostage below her.  Though the soldiers have their guns ready to strike, the son in the family steps out and shouts to her,

“Don’t stop now!  If you do, they’re done for!”  

He promptly receives a blow from the butt of one of the soldier’s guns.  This little act of unselfish bravery is just so goddamn beautiful - one of my favorite moments of theatre (that doesn’t depend on how a specific production does it).

“Hair” - I could honestly write a whole blog about “Hair.”  This musical, though “dated,” says a whole hell of a lot - more than I am willing to condense into a paragraph (and I’m sure than you’re willing to read right now).  But the moment I want to mention is specifically from the recent Broadway revival (which is now playing in London, with most of the original revival cast).  The very final image the audience is left with before the curtain call is of Claude, lying dead on the American flag, illuminated by a single spotlight as “snow” gently falls over him.  This is all presented to us as the tribe marches along the aisles and out of the theatre, their singing of “Let the Sun Shine In” dying out as the spotlight on Claude fades.  In this moment, “Let the Sun Shine In” is not the happy tune that Steve Carrell danced to in “The 40 Year Old Virgin.”  Instead, it is a desperate plea - don’t kill everything that is good in this world.  It’s just too damn beautiful.  See this show if you haven’t - it may seem like a big old hippie-fest, but I promise it is so much more.

To Kill A Mockingbird - This is one of the best books of the 20th century (and probably ever, depending on who you’re talking to).  Really just the character of Atticus can be considered a throat-sweller of a man (particularly when played by Gregory Peck in the film).  But I think may favorite moment is when Atticus is exiting the court, and Reverend Sykes shakes Scout awake —

“Jean Louise. Jean Louise, stand up. Your father’s passing.” 

As she opens her eyes, she sees the entire black community of Maycomb, once seated in the balcony of the courthouse, now standing as Atticus passes beneath them - on their feet for one of the bravest men in literature.  Unbeatable.

“Moulin Rouge!” - There’s really no pretentious-y explanation I’m going to give as to why Satine’s death turns me into a puddle of tears other than that it happens every single time.  This is one of my favorite movies, and I think the chemistry between Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman (who gave one hell of a performance, especially towards the end) contributed to my reaction.  I think a movie that tells you right away its heroine is going to die and can still leave you running to the store for more tissues is worthy of a mention here.  Also, when she’s singing “Come What May” to Christian as he’s walking out of the theatre is another favorite.  The moment she chokes up before singing the next line - something she wills herself to do with her final breaths - is a real stunner.

“Spring Awakening” - Everything about the “Those You’ve Known” scene is a killer.  The emergence of Moritz and Wendla - the two closest people to Melchior’s heart, now lost to him forever - through the haze surrounding the graveyard is visual poetry.  What really does it is when Moritz begins singing the first few lines of “Those You’ve Known” - a slower, more serious lyric set to the melody of Melchior’s song in the beginning (a hopeful ballad depicting his hunger for knowledge and ambition to ignite change).  When Wendla begins singing her part, Melchior’s - and the audience’s - anguish is deepened another layer.  But through all of the sadness hanging in the air, the song still retains the elements of hope and change in its notes.  These spirits have not emerged to haunt Melchior - instead, they encourage him to continue to speak out against a world of rules and limitations.  It’s a scene like this that make me want to be a part of theatre with every bit of me.

These are some relative newbies in my list of tear-jerkers:

“Dexter” - I know I already wrote a blog about this, but anyone who watches the show knows that I have to bring up Rita’s death.  I knew about her fate the whole time I was watching the series, and thus did not expect to cry when it finally happened.  To my (sort of) surprise, I cried way hard.  My mom actually had to ask if I was OK.

“American Idiot” - Yes, I got choked up during the Green Day musical (don’t judge).  Specifically, during “21 Guns.”  Take it or leave it, I happen to think this is a legitimately beautiful song.  But, to highlight the moment that really gets to me, there’s this one line, sung by the Extraordinary Girl to Tunny, as he’s lying sick and injured in an army hospital bed:

“Something in this heart has died, you’re in ruins…”

 This kills me for reasons along the lines of my “Let the Sun Shine In” explanation.  This man-made assault of the world has destroyed a deeply beautiful part of thousands and thousands of people, and to be over-dramatic for a moment, it really breaks my heart.  My feelings in this situation can be summed up by another line from “Hair”: “How dare they try to end this beauty?”

I could give you guys many, many more moments - “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” “On the Waterfront,” Their Eyes Were Watching God, The Lovely Bones, “Romeo and Juliet,” “Eurydice,” etc. etc. et-friggin’-c. - but in the interest of your time and eyesight, I will stop the buck here.  This post may have been a little self-indulgent, and you may not feel anywhere near the same as I do about these moments, but my main goal in sharing this with you is to get you to go out and see or read these works if you haven’t already.  You may not like them as much as I did, but they are worth a viewing.  Feel free to share with me some of your kleenex moments.  I’d love a new or shared perspective on something.  And please - don’t forget to pass the tissues.  :)

Yesterday I was fortunate enough to see two incredible shows in New York City.  One of them was Green Day’s “American Idiot” at the St. James theatre.  We happened to get some pretty decent seats for half the price at the tkts line - if you are in NYC and you’ve got the time, do yourself a favor and go see this show.  The thing is, you’re probably going to have to do it soon - I have a feeling this show is not going to have that long of a run.  NOTE: By saying this, I do not mean that it’s not up to par.  On the contrary, I think it’s one of the best shows I’ve seen in recent years.  But I don’t think it’s going to be playing to full houses, due to the specific audience this show appeals to.  Broadway usually isn’t the main stop for younger crowds - we simply don’t have the money (and some, unfortunately, just don’t have an interest in theatre).  Thus, the main patrons of the Great White Way are among the older generations - and let’s face it, a Rock Opera featuring the music of Green Day isn’t the biggest Boomer-grabber.  That’s not to say there weren’t parents and Boomers in the crowd - my mom saw it with me and absolutely loved it (she is generally known amongst me and my friends as a “cool” mom).

Which brings me to my next point.  I certainly do not think that adults cannot appreciate musicals geared towards younger audiences.  Crowds of all ages can be affected by any truly moving piece - regardless of its subject matter.  I just think it’s a shame how easy it can be to be turned off by something at face value - just because it’s “the Green Day musical” doesn’t mean it has nothing to offer.  Most shows that are geared towards the “next” generation are met with similar controversies.  ”RENT” and “Spring Awakening” are not typically favorites of the grandparents out there.  I know the more conservative culture they grew up in is at the root of it, but as Bobbie D. says, the times they are a changin’ (please, no one tell him I called him that).  It may be difficult, but accepting this fact could really benefit one’s experience of the world - failing to do so would indeed be missing out.  I understand that your personal preferences may leave you less than fond of the sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll happening six rows in front of you.  All I’m saying is not to let that prevent you from seeing the possibility that these shows are saying something deeply profound.

Not to be hyperbolic, but there is something tragic in the societal undervaluing of youth.  Don’t get me wrong, I have mad respect for the generations above me.  But the youngins deserve to be respected as well.  Sure, we still have much to learn (despite how many times we insist that we already know everything) - but we all have to learn these things at some point.  ”Shielding” us when we ask is not necessarily the solution.

“Spring Awakening” provides an extreme example of this [again, if you haven’t seen it yet, you may want to skip this paragraph].  The adults of the play (all played by one man and one woman) are hardly cast in a flattering light.  Though most of their actions are intended to protect their children, they end up hurting them far worse.  The adults fail to really listen to the children or trust their ability to understand “mature” matters.  Wendla asks her mother how babies are made.  Her mother is so repulsed at the idea of sharing such information with her little girl (who, as she states at the beginning of the scene, is not so little anymore), that she gives marriage and love as the only necessities - no anatomy required.  Wendla, not knowing any better, is forced to accept this blatantly false answer, and later has sex without fully knowing what she is doing. Additionally, Moritz is absolutely terrified of failing his exams, for fear of his father’s wrath and disappointment.  When he does fail, he writes to a friend’s mother asking for help, claiming that suicide would be his only other option.  She turns down his plea, believing it to be something the boy will eventually get over.  When Wendla dies from a botched abortion and Moritz kills himself, the roots of such tragedies lead back to the adults.  Had they listened to and respected the cries of their children, such heartache may have been avoided. In fact, the one “child” that has been made aware of these mature subjects is seen as a delinquent by the adults and is sent to a correctional facility - all because he tried to help and share his knowledge with his peers.  So the real tragedy does not lie in the deaths of these teens, but in how easily they could have been prevented.  Another hard-hitting message brought in the form of a “teenaged” show.  This actually happens to be my favorite musical - not just because the music is beautiful and the rock-style of the piece is awesome, but because it really tends to get to you.  I personally cry like a baby every time I listen to it (a sentence you may see a lot in the course of this blog…).

Again, I’m really not trying to knock on adults here - these musicals, after all, were written by some.  I just think each generation deserves to be respected.  We need to learn from our “elders” - life would be almost impossible to manage without them.  But that doesn’t mean the older generations can’t learn something from the younger ones, too.  Just keep an open mind to that, is all.

Anyway.  Not to make an already long post longer, but as long as we’re on the topic of theatre:

If you are in the audience of a show (this goes for movies too, but since movies have an extra level of removal, it’s even more crucial for plays), PLEASE be respectful.  Don’t play with your cell phone, don’t talk while the show is going on, don’t laugh at inappropriate times.  You may not want to be there for some reason or other, but please don’t take out your anger, annoyance, or boredom in such a way.  It is incredibly disrespectful to the audience and the performers.  Theatre is very much a communal experience - having little consideration for others in the room can ruin the experience for everyone.  Sorry if this sounds a little over-zealous, but it is one of my biggest pet peeves.  Few things make me angrier than people talking during a show.

But enough hostility - I’ll just go and play some angry teenager music. ;)