On Saturday night, I volunteered to go with a friend to a musical at a local high school. One of the students she mentors was in the performance, and my friend was going to support her.
The performance was, in a word, excellent.
If ‘excellent’ means terrible, miserable, torturous, and all around just bad.
The musical was in a multi-purpose room that was sweltering hot and smelled like sweaty feet.
The girl who played the princess was a good singer, but had no emotion. At one point, during a sad scene, my friend saw her scratching her nose. The boy who played Jack, you know, of ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’?, didn’t move his arms. No matter how hard he sang his heart out, his arms never moved. Oh, and the prince? He never looked up from the floor. Even during the love scenes. Proclaiming his love to the floor.
Finally, 1.5 hours later, it was intermission. Only intermission?!
We got up from our seats, walked into the hallway, and battled our way through the crowd to the drinking fountain. Once we had each had a sip of water, we elbowed our way back into to the multi-purpose room, which was still just as hot, but fortunately, didn’t smell like feet anymore.
Unfortunately, it now smelled like fish sticks.
As we walked in the door, the musical director turned off all the lights and shut the doors, leaving us to walk in the pitch-black to our seats. The play started again, this time with the BONNGGG of the tympani drum, which caused everyone in the audience to scream and jump out of their seats.
A student, dressed as an old man, started singing a solo. It would have been good — if only he would have hit a single note. Luckily, few minutes of squeaking and squawking later, he was done.
Unluckily, in the heat of the sealed room, someone in the row in front of us farted. Twice.
As the musical neared completion, all of the characters gathered on stage for the big final number. And just at the height of the song, the backdrop fell down.
Finally, after 2.5 hours, the players took their final bows, and we were released from the smelly sauna to freedom.
Freedom. At last!
Oh how I love supporting the local arts.
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