I know I lose a good portion of you when I go all theater-geeky on you, but I loved this performance tonight.
Now, I had gone walking around Notre Dame earlier today, which was a terrible idea only because I decided to wear my killer flats. Emphasis on the killer. So by tonight, my feet were pretty worn out.
But here are some pictures, as I'm told that the weather in New England is still depressing. (What's new?)
There's a little park behind the Notre Dame Cathedral. I think it's called Square Jean XXIII. It's delightful. People were sitting in the sun.
Plus it's got this great view.
Even from the side, the Cathedral is gorgeous. But so are the gardens now!
Remember my story about the daffodils? Well, to refresh your memory, at the Marie Curie Museum, the guy behind the desk told me that they sell daffodil pins because the daffodil is the French symbol of the fight against cancer. Because the daffodil is one of the first flowers to appear in the springtime, it symbolizes regrowth and revitalization, which is what cancer survivors are known for as well. So it was very appropriate to see these yellow flowers in bloom.
La belle Seine.
Now, this little square/garden/park right besides Shakespeare & Co. bookstore is called Square René Viviani. It's quite quaint as well.
So great to finally see some color!
I love Paris, but I miss our cherry blossoms by the Tidal Basin. :(
Now, I was iffy about the other flowers, but I know these definitely must be daffodils. They look like the jonquille ("daffodil" in French) pin I wore to my grandfather's wake. They've come to mean a lot to me since my visit to the museum.
This path, or chemin, is so cool.
Now that that's over...
SIDE NOTE: I had a whole bunch of other stuff to say about my modernism class, but I'll get to that another day.
At the Théâtre du Châtelet, they were kind enough to let me inside because my stomach was hurting and I desperately had to use the bathroom. Plus I got a chance to relax my sore feet, which had been on tiptoes since about 5 pm. A very kind usher noticed my poor pieds, and she insisted on calling for a medical guy.
So it was very official. He sat me down, applied that terrible ointment on the blister that I remember well from cross country, and carefully placed the bandages on my heel like he was performing brain surgery. It was a nice gesture on part of the theater. I know in New York--in some places, at least--you could stand outside in the rain all night without getting any head's up.
I've seen Singin' in the Rain before, since we're one of those weird families that subscribes to the Turner Classic Movies channel. The plot isn't very complicated, so I was okay going in. Even if it was in French, I could follow along.
But it wasn't in French! Instead, there were French subtitles. I couldn't help but laugh at this strange turn of events. I think theater here gives me a headache because I have to spend the whole show translating. This time I just got to sit back and enjoy.
Except I was on the edge of my seat. Not because of thrilling car chases, but because the singing and acting was so good. Now, no one can really live up to Gene Kelly and Donald O'Connor performing "Make 'Em Laugh"--that jump-of-the-wall move goes down in dancing history, after all--but the two main actors playing Don Lockwood and Cosmo Brown were brilliant. I especially liked Cosmo Brown, because he's a character just like my Uncle Lou: always ready with a joke, especially with those who don't enjoy jokes at all.
They had a movie screen, and they utilized it in the beginning and throughout the show. In fact, funnily enough, they filmed the "movie" scenes at Versailles and Harry's Bar! I was jumping around with excitement in my seat.
It was nice to return to the old-fashioned musical with the tap numbers, easily resolved plot, and comical-bordering-on-ridiculous characters. I know some people want to return to that age--you know, Anything Goes stuff--but this is why we do revivals. We can't just copy the past; then we'll end up like those Renaissance artists who just literally copied Greek and Roman art.
Speaking of tap numbers: the big tap number in the second half was great! All of the men tapping vaguely reminded me of Book of Mormon when the chorus is performing "Turn It Off." And now any male actor who wants to make it to BoM has to know how to tap. I think it's great! They were all wearing gold sparkly vests, which once again brought to mind another musical: A Chorus Line, when the dancers are performing "One." But really, Singin' in the Rain and its predecessors were the ones who decided on these standards. That's so awesome.
Anyway, for the title number, they actually had rain falling down on the stage. And the actor who played Don swung around on the lamppost, jumped in puddles with a police officers, and moved very gracefully even drenched in water.
At the end of the show, I leaped to my feet. To hell with the etiquette! That's why you're supposed to stand: because it's great. But I ended up sitting back down because the cast all came out in bright yellow raincoats and sang "Singin' in the Rain." They even opened up the curtains behind them so we the audience could see the tech crew in the back in their red raincoats, holding lights and cameras. We all clapped--surprisingly to the actual beat of the song (audiences are terrible with rhythm). And when they did the bows, I whooped like a teenage girl at a Bieber concert because the actors deserved it. I wish I had a picture because it was a spectacular scene--truly worthy of the French word for "theater": spectacle.
Now, for Midsummer, they did six encore bows. Since it wasn't spectacular, I was less than enthused, and it's really sad when you can see the audience losing steam. But the audience was as mad for the show as I was, and we all stood and cheered and clapped, and they kept running back up the stage holding hands and would take a long bow together. Finally, even when the clapping was still in full swing, they had the grace and restraint to leave the stage. Finally! I didn't have to wait around looking at my watch like an asshole.
Then, I don't care who you are, but you must stay for the orchestra to finish. It is so rude if you don't. They are like the blood running through the body of the musical. They have to save actors usually if there's a line slip-up. They hardly get any appreciation! Luckily, a good chunk of people stayed to listen to the finale reprises of all the great songs. The front row was looking down at the orchestra below them, completely enraptured.
Go, orchestra!
The Châtelet is so gorgeous inside. None of my pictures do it justice.
Test 1, 2, 3...
Now, it wasn't actually raining, but my umbrella has permanently resided in my AUP since it rained basically all of February. So I was able to get creative with my photos. Some nice French girls took these for me.
As you can tell, I am way too into this.
Now, doesn't it look better without any buses in front?
Now, I wanted to do the photo from the poster. Comme ça:
Well, I tried. The man taking the photo was a good sport about it, considering he knew as much about cameras as my grandfather probably did. Oh, poor Grandpa. I'm always making jokes at my family's expense, but it's just because I love them so much. :D
This was the best that I could do. But hey, I still like it!
Just as Don Lockwood says in his title song, "I'm happy again... I'm laughing again." The theater always reminds me of this the most. It's so healing to laugh, but also to sigh romantically and to clap loudly and smile enigmatically and squeal like a girl Wilbur in Charlotte's Web--it's good to feel everything.
But before I go: "Which wristwatch is the Swiss wristwatch?" Try to say it. I dare you.
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