I'm so old

So I just started rehearsals for Beauty and the Beast at South Plainfield High School. Man, do I feel old. I don’t know how these teachers cannot be depressed. You’re basically assaulted by youthful vim and vigor at every turn. I don’t think I could take being constantly reminded how not “with-it” I am. I hear the noise coming from their white earbuds and think, “That’s music?” When did I turn into an old man?

I guess you could be a “cool” teacher and try to identify with the kids’ fashion, music and pop culture. But to me, that just seems like a pathetic attempt to try and stay relevant in a group that ultimately, though probably not to your face, thinks you’re just some old guy acting like an idiot.

I was never cool or popular in High School. In fact, I’m sure I was referred to as a nerd or fag behind my back. But of course, I get the last laugh. I’ve seen my 20th High School reunion pics (I, naturally, had rehearsals that weekend) and the cool kids are now fat, pregnant, alcoholic, divorced or some combination thereof. I gotta’ say, I’d never trade my current status to have been one of the cool kids in High School. How sad must it be to be in your late-30’s and think your HS years were the best/happiest time of your life?

Anyway, rehearsals are progressing slowly as I attempt to remember that these are not Broadway trained dancers, but High School students who just now are becoming aware of their bodies. High School girls have no idea how to be alluring or coquettish. It’s just a one way ticket to Slutsville for these girls. Thank you, Madonna. I reiterate, when did I become an old man?

Happy Birthday, Jesus! Part 3

Link to Part 2

Since it’s already halfway through January and most of the 2008 Holiday Season is now just a food-coma-induced blur (although I can report that our sad little tropical blackberry-themed wreath - don’t ask - is still hanging from the apartment door), I guess I’ll just run down the Christmas/New Year highlights.

So after being stranded in a stream of urine on route 22 until 3am Christmas morn, we finally made it back to Juan and Val’s to finish wrapping the presents we were just going to rip open in a few hours. The Pineda’s run their lives just as they do many of their rehearsals, unplanned and last minute. After the crazy night of church gigs and traffic, we finally arose close to noon, a record for the family. Mom is usually up by 8am to let us know that Santa has arrived, but even she was wiped out by the previous evening’s activities.

We did the normal “eat-until-it-blows-out-of-both-ends” all day. And I’m proud to report that I didn’t change clothes until after I was forced to get on the bus late Christmas night. Considering we agreed to do cheap gifts this year, I made out pretty well with the requisite sweaters, shirts, cash and (insert excited squeal here) a mini deep fryer! Yes, now I will be able to experiment battering and frying all sorts of nasty items in the privacy of my own kitchen.

As for New Years, well, I slept for most of it. Even though I was invited to several soirees, I decided to just stay at home in my sweats and greet the New Year with Kathy and Anderson on CNN. Trish’s old roomie from Richmond, Billy, brought over his new boyfriend and we sat around eating mini-weenies and chips and drinking. Old man that I am, I ended up taking a nap around 10pm waking up just in time for the ball to drop. Naturally, 20 minutes later I was in bed. But I did get up a couple hours later for a New Year’s booty call. But alas, you will not get any details about that until I’m dead and publish my tell-all biography.

Shrek

You’d think $20 million would pretty much guarantee a perfect Broadway production. Well, you’d be wrong. When I wasn’t yawning or wondering how Shrek the Musical’s creators stretched a wisp of a plot over three hours, there were some mildly entertaining moments. Not that the physical production didn’t look expensive. Costumes were often gorgeous, backdrops and moving scenery were plentiful and the onstage talent - aside from the merely adequate Sutton Foster u/s who was on last night, more on her later - was obviously the best that money could buy. But money can’t buy an interesting book or creative staging (exception: the hilarious contraption that allowed the towering Chris Sieber to appear four-feet tall. My knees ache for him). My proof? - the three bobbing heads in front of me, each of whom fell asleep more than once during the show.

Though ugly, it was clear the unimaginatively used hydraulic turntable dominating the set took a huge bite out of the producers’ budget. It’s a poor man’s Pride Rock. But I can’t help thinking that it was retained only because it had already been bought and installed and that some angry producer told director Jason Moore, “I don’t care if you don’t need it anymore. Use that damn thing because I already paid for it.” The exiled fairy tale characters were basically extraneous, too. They showed up for a song in the first fifteen minutes and then returned in the last fifteen minutes because it seemed, once again, the producers wanted to get their moneys’ worth out of the costumes.

Unlike others, I didn’t have a problem with a creative team choosing to develop the Shrek stories into a musical. Unfortunately, little was done to create an engaging or interesting storyline. There were no real obstacles for Shrek to overcome. I mean, come on, in the rescue scene characters literally run past the dragon to escape. There was no fight or confrontation, just a lot of mimed running - a lot of it. Of course, how hard could it be to run past a creature that consists solely of a large head and no apparent appendages?

You know there’s trouble when the most interesting character on the stage isn’t the title character, but the peripheral character of Lord Farquaad. Yes, he does set the plot in motion, but the most interesting numbers involved his back-story - all well and good had I been watching Lord Farquaad the Musical. When it comes down to it, I guess Shrek’s main problem is that not much actually happens. The show is basically a thinly developed quest story chock full of meaningless filler and fart jokes that don’t really help to move what little plot there is along.

With the exception of the many derivative Motown-like songs for Donkey, the score by Jeanine Tesori was for the most part tuneful and sophisticated (well, maybe not the fart/belch contest in “I Got You Beat”) considering the source material. There was a cleverness and sincerity in the score and lyrics that wasn’t mirrored in the “anything-to-make-you-laugh” desperation of the book. I found myself yearning to see the show that matched the songs rather than the other way around.

As mentioned earlier, Chris Sieber steals the show with his take on a wannabe with daddy issues. Brian D’Arcy James does the best he can while saddled with a fat suit and prosthetics. Unfortunately, originality is not what is asked of him, considering the movie character is so indelibly imprinted on our brains. He sings beautifully and has some wonderfully vulnerable moments with both Donkey and Fiona. Daniel Breaker does what he can with Donkey, but comes off as a pale Eddie Murphy impersonator. Sarah Jane Everman, on for Sutton Foster’s Fiona, was adequate. Her speaking voice is a dead ringer for Kristin Chenowith, but without the fun, quirkiness that makes Cheno bearable. Again, her singing was adequate but with some definite pitch issues and the chemistry between her and Shrek was non-existent. She was solidly average. I wonder if there is a considerable difference in how the show plays with Foster in? Well, I’ll most likely never find out, considering I don’t plan on returning unless a free ticket lands in my greedy hands.