Larry Bird. Michael Jordan. Star Wars. The Matrix. Success happens.
To understand the why, when and how of it typically requires hindsight.
That’s what I thought, anyway, until last week, when I saw beyond the experience I was having while sitting in row “O” watching the regional theatre production of a classic Broadway musical that I adored growing up.
Not to sound too fawning, but the sets were fantastic. Very professional. The trademark of regional theatre is usually the opposite when it comes to sets. But in this case, the sets were great.
The performers were – how to put it? – “regional,” but sturdy. The audience, while enormous, had realistic expectations. Which was great. But what sparked my attention in this production had more to do with the script than the staging, more to do with story structure than on-stage construction.
The music was as breezy and infectious as ever, and the plot was sincere and relevant. And if Tony Award trophies were Jewish men, the original Broadway version of this play could’ve held a minyan with the number of statues it won, while as a movie, it grabbed 10 Oscars.
And yet, when costumes in a film become dated, we say it’s a “period” piece or nostalgic. But when jokes become dated, it’s just not funny.
Wow. Not funny. Acclaimed, even lauded, but not funny. Dramatic and poignant, but not funny. With punch lines like “flabber-jabber?” Hmmm.
This Romeo and Juliet adaptation pitted locals against immigrants – a classic social clash, whether it’s black versus white, or Jews versus everyone else. But I found this particular mounting comically current and poignantly punctuated by the accidental casting quirk that had “scripted as” Puerto Ricans all played by local Asians. It was a classic “commentary” play that actually mirrored the mixed community that was putting it on.
It was ironically relevant, passionate and catchy, worldly and respected, but still, not very funny.
Why the concern? We are talking about a legacy show after all, right?
Well, to explain: I’ve recently had implanted in me a promptly practical and predictive perspective, courtesy of repeated unprotected exposures to Neilsen ratings and studio marketing and distribution strategies over the past year.
All of which means, simply, that when the vertical hold is off on my television, it’s distracting. When the sound is fuzzy on the radio, it’s hard to stay engaged. Entertainment is a cold, quick business, and keeping your audience engaged is a serious priority. It’s hard to suspend disbelief if I can see the strings holding up the UFO! So when any element of a production is consistently distracting me, that’s a concern, and it directly affects the degree to which we’re able to absorb additional themes and messages.
Performances that distract will fall out of favour. “You get more bees when you use honey” was (ironically) the message beaten into me early on.
Essentially, if it stings to watch a production’s comedic elements, we’re probably not consuming as much of the meaningful part of the play as its author intended.
This age-old, yet jazzed up, show is clearly a powerful story about tolerance and compassion, love and friendship. It’s as relevant now as it was hundreds of years ago when it was first presented by William Shakespeare, then re-imagined by Broadway in 1957 and Hollywood in 1961.
Hundreds of years suggest that social advances would demand that earlier re-tooling of the tale.
But as I sat in row “O” last week, I wondering if it was already time for an update?
Rent. Avenue Q. UrineTown. It’s getting spicy out there. I’m taking my jazz hands these days with the middle finger extended.
So when the show I’m watching feels undeniably like a museum of merriment and not like soaring entertainment, I do get sad that the great history of it all is slipping into shadow, yet I’m charged for a new stage of content that’s about to rush in.
My feeling is that several classics will soon be recalled. Expect new ones by Christmas, such as Romeo and Romeo, Hello Dolly: The Cloning of Sheep, Fiddler on the Internet.
Not to be overly dramatic or anything.