Yikes.
As of last night, I have officially read all four of the published Twilight books and have yet to find the movie for free online (although I'm afraid to watch it because even though I'm convinced that Robert Pattinson is, in fact, a real live vampire, I'm also convinced that Kristen Stewart's acting is, in fact, seriously awful.)
So, uh, now what?
What I really want to do is become a vampire, but since that's clearly out of the question (or is it???) I think I'll just have to turn to Real Life instead. Ugh, how boring.
However, Real Life has its perks.... like last night, for instance, when I had a REVELATORY theatre experience.
Yup, I cried during this part.
Yesterday evening, I was privileged enough to see Kelli O'Hara's final performance as Nellie Forbush in the Lincoln Center revival of Rodgers and Hammerstein's South Pacific. I'd never seen the show before, although I've read the script and sung much of Nellie's music because I'm pretty convinced R&H couldn't have written a character more like myself, minus the blatant racism (which she overcomes, of course!) and Little Rock hick-thing.
Honestly, I don't know if I've ever seen a more beautiful night of musical theatre.
Generally, musicals don't move me to tears unless they're West Side Story, but in my current emotional state (read: tumultuous and weepy) it doesn't take much. Add to that the fact that the guest I brought with me was not the guest I intended to bring (see previous post about TBU) and, well, waterworks were inevitable. But that explanation isn't meant to undermine anything about the performances, because they were sensational.
It was just so refreshing to see actors who could sing AND act, and who understood that the root of the story - the crux of it - was the honesty behind everything R&H wrote. I believed every word that came out of their mouths, every note, and I felt like I was intruding on very personal moments between fascinating people.
Not to mention the orchestra and the production value were both breathtakingly fantastic - but NOT needlessly spectacular.
And although Kelli O'Hara, bless her heart, was anywhere between 5 and 7 months pregnant, she did two full cartwheels during "I'm In Love With A Wonderful Guy," one of my favorite songs of all time. To her credit, I think I sobbed hardest (literally heaved... I would say I feel bad for the guy next to me except that he was an obnoxiously loud breather) when she was just sitting on a box in her bathing suit, singing about "the world famous feeling" she was feeling.
"Ahhh sister," I wanted to say, "I've been there." Of course I couldn't have, because I was crying too hard.
But now that I've recovered from my "Some Enchanted Evening"-induced emotional coma, I can simply say with sincerity that seeing South Pacific reminded me of why I love this art form so much and how powerful and relevant it can be. Broadway isn't dead, everyone... it's not even close. See something like this and you'll understand why.
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