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Okay. Hair first, because it's first chronologically. Then I can squee about the whole date thing, and Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, and the football game, and the overall squeefulness of yesterday. But we start with Hair.
I've had the soundtrack for a year. I fell in love-- I don't know why; I never know why when I fall in love, whether it's with music or a person or a book or a movie or whatever. I was in love. Then I watched half of the movie and was stricken, horrified. It was terrible. It was wrong. Claude was passive and from Oklahoma and set off willingly when he got drafted, Jeannie was sober, Sheila was an aristocrat. This was Not Right At All. They even fucked up the songs. It was a travesty.
Then I found out that TUTS was doing the show. I couldn't wait. On Friday night, walking into the theater, the combination of excitement about seeing it and terror that they'd fuck it up just like the movie did had me literally shaking.
They didn't. Oh, God, they didn't. It was everything I wanted it to be, everything. The songs were Right. Berger took his pants off. Jeannie giggled and twirled and talked in a stoned baby voice and played "he loves me, he loves me not" with a daisy. Woof was... well, Woof was perfect, I'm in love with Woof, not that it'll do me any good since he's fictional and even if he weren't fictional he's in love with Mick Jagger. Everybody could sing, everybody could dance, everybody was their characters. Claude was what he needed to be. Chrissy was thirteen and sang "Frank Mills" like she was thirteen and I was in love all over again.
Intermission.
Hallucinations. Oh, God, the hallucinations were everything they should have been. I was shaking. They did an incredible job of having one of the girls represent Death, with a red shroud that fell to her waist and wearing black pants in darkness so she looked like a floating bloody specter. I was, I repeat, shaking. And then oh God, it's the end, it's the induction center, and... I feel like I should put this bit behind a cut, so if you don't mind being told the end of Hair, click on that.
( And it's )
And my mother decided this would be a good time to go out for pie.
How hard is it to hold back a panic attack for an hour and a half while you get out of the parking garage, go to House of Pies, somehow get your pie even though they've got a rush on, eat your pie, get back to the dorm, put away the groceries you bought earlier, and wait for your roommate to be out of the room? Very. Very, very, very.
I didn't expect it to have that intense an effect on me. The soundtrack makes me shiver, yes, but normally I don't then have a breakdown. But Live Is Different, of course, which should be the slogan of all musicals ever, and it was incredibly intense, incredibly draining, and I'd see it again in a hearbeat.
I know this came off sounding like it was a negative experience. But it wasn't. See it, see it, see it. I don't care if the Chronicle called it a period piece. They're stupid; it's relevant. My mood is marked as "drained." That is a very, very good kind of drained. Go see it.
(Also, this is probably why I was so un-mellow yesterday whilst waiting for The Boy to come and pick me up. So, y'know, not such a surprise after all.)
I've had the soundtrack for a year. I fell in love-- I don't know why; I never know why when I fall in love, whether it's with music or a person or a book or a movie or whatever. I was in love. Then I watched half of the movie and was stricken, horrified. It was terrible. It was wrong. Claude was passive and from Oklahoma and set off willingly when he got drafted, Jeannie was sober, Sheila was an aristocrat. This was Not Right At All. They even fucked up the songs. It was a travesty.
Then I found out that TUTS was doing the show. I couldn't wait. On Friday night, walking into the theater, the combination of excitement about seeing it and terror that they'd fuck it up just like the movie did had me literally shaking.
They didn't. Oh, God, they didn't. It was everything I wanted it to be, everything. The songs were Right. Berger took his pants off. Jeannie giggled and twirled and talked in a stoned baby voice and played "he loves me, he loves me not" with a daisy. Woof was... well, Woof was perfect, I'm in love with Woof, not that it'll do me any good since he's fictional and even if he weren't fictional he's in love with Mick Jagger. Everybody could sing, everybody could dance, everybody was their characters. Claude was what he needed to be. Chrissy was thirteen and sang "Frank Mills" like she was thirteen and I was in love all over again.
Intermission.
Hallucinations. Oh, God, the hallucinations were everything they should have been. I was shaking. They did an incredible job of having one of the girls represent Death, with a red shroud that fell to her waist and wearing black pants in darkness so she looked like a floating bloody specter. I was, I repeat, shaking. And then oh God, it's the end, it's the induction center, and... I feel like I should put this bit behind a cut, so if you don't mind being told the end of Hair, click on that.
( And it's )
And my mother decided this would be a good time to go out for pie.
How hard is it to hold back a panic attack for an hour and a half while you get out of the parking garage, go to House of Pies, somehow get your pie even though they've got a rush on, eat your pie, get back to the dorm, put away the groceries you bought earlier, and wait for your roommate to be out of the room? Very. Very, very, very.
I didn't expect it to have that intense an effect on me. The soundtrack makes me shiver, yes, but normally I don't then have a breakdown. But Live Is Different, of course, which should be the slogan of all musicals ever, and it was incredibly intense, incredibly draining, and I'd see it again in a hearbeat.
I know this came off sounding like it was a negative experience. But it wasn't. See it, see it, see it. I don't care if the Chronicle called it a period piece. They're stupid; it's relevant. My mood is marked as "drained." That is a very, very good kind of drained. Go see it.
(Also, this is probably why I was so un-mellow yesterday whilst waiting for The Boy to come and pick me up. So, y'know, not such a surprise after all.)
