It is a silly place
Mar. 12th, 2006 01:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rushthatspeaksVarious and sundry went to Spamalot at the Colonial Theatre; I went to the 2 PM today. Several friends and associates went to either the 8 PM last night or the 8 PM tonight: this is what you do when you have a party of twenty-plus and a )(&*(^ Ticketmaster monopoly.
I liked the show. I don't think it's an immortal work of theatrical or musical genius to last the generations-- I don't think it even comes close-- but I do think it's a nice balance of material from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, occasionally-obscure material from other Python, and the totally new. They play with changing some of the most well-known things around, which I appreciate, and they get in a few good digs at the Broadway musical, though in my opinion not as well as Forbidden Broadway.
My major objection, however, is that it is too nice. Monty Python have a real edge to them. They have grounding in Dada, in the surrealists, and occasionally they use comedy as an explosive. When faced with some of their finest work you can't tell whether to laugh, wince or whimper-- the shooting at the end of the Cheese Shop sketch, How Not To Be Seen, the woman who kills herself in an effort to get her gas company's emergency technicians to fix her stove. This show... is Broadway. During the song 'Find Your Grail', which is when Arthur etcetera are faced with their Holy Quest, the Lady of the Lake (who is serving as a sort of narrator) wanders about singing about how you have to find the Grail within yourself and waving one triumphantly over her head. It may even be the real one, since she comes on and announces that she has it while Arthur's wondering where the hell it is anyhow. And I sat there through this number, which goes on about being true to yourself and what-all, and eventually it became obvious to me that they were playing this relatively straight, and that nobody was going to hit her over the head to see if she'd got the Holy Grail or not. Even though, at one point, she had her back to everybody.
In fact, upon reflection, I don't think anybody died. The Historian survived, everyone Lancelot ran through on stage survived, even the guy who's Not Dead Yet survived-- okay, I think the guy the rabbit ate did die, but he was an extra brought on for the occasion, not a character, and in the movie that thing takes out a couple of people who have done stuff, and a lot of them also fail at the bridge.
This show demonstrates the difference in mood between singing 'Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life' when you're being crucified (and no one comes to let you down, either) and singing it when you're a tad upset.
And, you know, I'm not howling for blood onstage or anything. A lot of Python disturbs me, depresses me, or upsets me. I find portions of it really icky. But that's part of what makes one have to think about what is watching, which is part of what makes it art. Brian singing on the cross is art, is an impressive, ironic, layered gesture. Spamalot is, in general, a nice afternoon's entertainment, which I probably won't have written to memory in a year's time.
It was a lovely afternoon's entertainment, too. Good costuming, good singing, good budget, marvelous set design, nice attempts at including Gilliamesque animation. Very well done. Not much else to say about it. I feel that there should have been more.
Afterward nearly everyone attending all three showings went to a nearby Chinese restaurant whose name escapes me, especially since they had one name on the outside, a different name on the menu, and yet another painted on the windows. The important thing about it was that it had insanely large dining rooms and so could accomodate a party of rather more than twenty on absolutely no notice, and the food wasn't bad either.
I have to say, Thrud's organizational capacities are never going to cease to amaze me. As I recall, sometime a couple months ago she said 'We should go to Spamalot', and this simple sentence turned into contacting the Harvard-Radcliffe Science Fiction Association and then coordinating three sets of ticket prices, a set maximum number of tickets which could be purchased by one person for any given show, a sold-out run, a Ticketmaster fuck-up of colossal proportions involving giving us a fair number of tickets for the wrong night entirely and then refusing to fix it, and the usual minor disasters. As far as I'm aware, not only were all tickets used and all provided with Chinese food who wanted, but Thrud's got her ticket-outlay money back because she somehow keeps people from doing that thing where they say they'll pay you sometime.
It's probably a good thing she has no interest at all in taking over the world.
At least, I'm pretty sure she doesn't.
I liked the show. I don't think it's an immortal work of theatrical or musical genius to last the generations-- I don't think it even comes close-- but I do think it's a nice balance of material from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, occasionally-obscure material from other Python, and the totally new. They play with changing some of the most well-known things around, which I appreciate, and they get in a few good digs at the Broadway musical, though in my opinion not as well as Forbidden Broadway.
My major objection, however, is that it is too nice. Monty Python have a real edge to them. They have grounding in Dada, in the surrealists, and occasionally they use comedy as an explosive. When faced with some of their finest work you can't tell whether to laugh, wince or whimper-- the shooting at the end of the Cheese Shop sketch, How Not To Be Seen, the woman who kills herself in an effort to get her gas company's emergency technicians to fix her stove. This show... is Broadway. During the song 'Find Your Grail', which is when Arthur etcetera are faced with their Holy Quest, the Lady of the Lake (who is serving as a sort of narrator) wanders about singing about how you have to find the Grail within yourself and waving one triumphantly over her head. It may even be the real one, since she comes on and announces that she has it while Arthur's wondering where the hell it is anyhow. And I sat there through this number, which goes on about being true to yourself and what-all, and eventually it became obvious to me that they were playing this relatively straight, and that nobody was going to hit her over the head to see if she'd got the Holy Grail or not. Even though, at one point, she had her back to everybody.
In fact, upon reflection, I don't think anybody died. The Historian survived, everyone Lancelot ran through on stage survived, even the guy who's Not Dead Yet survived-- okay, I think the guy the rabbit ate did die, but he was an extra brought on for the occasion, not a character, and in the movie that thing takes out a couple of people who have done stuff, and a lot of them also fail at the bridge.
This show demonstrates the difference in mood between singing 'Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life' when you're being crucified (and no one comes to let you down, either) and singing it when you're a tad upset.
And, you know, I'm not howling for blood onstage or anything. A lot of Python disturbs me, depresses me, or upsets me. I find portions of it really icky. But that's part of what makes one have to think about what is watching, which is part of what makes it art. Brian singing on the cross is art, is an impressive, ironic, layered gesture. Spamalot is, in general, a nice afternoon's entertainment, which I probably won't have written to memory in a year's time.
It was a lovely afternoon's entertainment, too. Good costuming, good singing, good budget, marvelous set design, nice attempts at including Gilliamesque animation. Very well done. Not much else to say about it. I feel that there should have been more.
Afterward nearly everyone attending all three showings went to a nearby Chinese restaurant whose name escapes me, especially since they had one name on the outside, a different name on the menu, and yet another painted on the windows. The important thing about it was that it had insanely large dining rooms and so could accomodate a party of rather more than twenty on absolutely no notice, and the food wasn't bad either.
I have to say, Thrud's organizational capacities are never going to cease to amaze me. As I recall, sometime a couple months ago she said 'We should go to Spamalot', and this simple sentence turned into contacting the Harvard-Radcliffe Science Fiction Association and then coordinating three sets of ticket prices, a set maximum number of tickets which could be purchased by one person for any given show, a sold-out run, a Ticketmaster fuck-up of colossal proportions involving giving us a fair number of tickets for the wrong night entirely and then refusing to fix it, and the usual minor disasters. As far as I'm aware, not only were all tickets used and all provided with Chinese food who wanted, but Thrud's got her ticket-outlay money back because she somehow keeps people from doing that thing where they say they'll pay you sometime.
It's probably a good thing she has no interest at all in taking over the world.
At least, I'm pretty sure she doesn't.
