Nothing
leaves a sour taste in my mouth on my way out of a show
like an usher blocking my way and belligerently asking, "Do you really
need to keep your program?" with her arm already outstretched and hand
open for it, giving me attitude when I said that yes, I would like to
keep it. I've worked on shows that recycled programs before, but we
never did it aggressively or forced patrons (most of whom paid a hefty
wad of money for their ticket, which really should include a few folded
pages of construction paper if they want, telling them about the artists
whose work they just paid to see) to give them up. I will say this about the
program-hustler, though: up until that point in my afternoon, I had
neither a positive
nor negative impression of the show, thinking it was merely pleasant and
forgettable (which to me is the greatest sin in theatre). Towards
the end of the well-acted, well-staged play with believable dialogue
and plot, I kept checking my watch, thinking surely it was running
longer than its posted running time, and wondering if there were going
to be any new discoveries or layers to explain why this wasn't a
45-minute one-act, since I had gotten the point about 20 minutes in and
felt like I was now watching variations of the same scene over and
over. When it ended, I thought, "Eh. It was pleasantly enjoyable for
the
most part. Not something I will be thinking of 10 minutes from now.
And that's it." Program-Hustler, however, tipped the scale, ensuring my
overall impression of the whole experience wasn't just the damning "it
was nice."
The
last time I went to a play at this theatre, I strongly, actively
disliked it. "Hate" is perhaps not too strong a word. I had heard
both
raves and pans about it, and when it was over, my friend and I walked a
block in stunned silence before bursting out laughing and exclaiming,
"HOW?! WHY?! WHAT?!" I thought it was awful. Yet I was still
thinking about it (as much as I wished I weren't) for the next few
days. I'm not sure what the point of it was, and I really didn't
understand what happened or why, leaving me feeling a bit cheated... but
I have
no doubt that the author knew the point and felt very strongly about
it. I knew it was a love-or-hate show, and I had discussions with
friends who loved it about why. I was genuinely curious. And the last five
seconds of that play still stand out in my mind crystal-clear as one of
the strongest, most engaging final moments I've ever seen on stage. I
would pay good money to see a show that lives up to that ending. Good or bad (to me bad... very bad), I am sure that every person in that
theatre had an emotional reaction to that play. Probably quite a few
emotional reactions....
Thinking
about that show as I left this one, feeling annoyed by the pushy
program-hustler, my annoyance turned almost to anger as I processed the
fact that an usher trying to rob me of my program was the only part of
my theatre-going experience that I actually had an emotional reaction
to. I should have felt sad at the ending of this play, and I didn't. I
should have cared about these characters, but I really only did because I
was told we were supposed to. I should have disliked the antagonist,
but I felt nothing for him. I would have rather seen a play about what
made him tick and why all the relationships are what they are than one
where we're simply told what the relationships are as they serve as
background for a plot whose outcome is really only relevant if we care
about it as much as the characters on stage do. And because I wasn't
emotionally invested in them, I wasn't emotionally invested in the plot.
Feeling cheated because you
didn't get a show or like it is one thing; feeling cheated because you
didn't FEEL is quite another. I think I prefer the former.
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