Impetus

An exhilarating train ride without wheels. A shooting over a stolen purse. A curtain that looks like a neon hairdo. Statues that come to life. Typewriters powered by tap shoes. African animals bustling through aisle-ways. A city-wide blackout.

When I was a child, I witnessed it all.

The Music Man had been a family staple. I couldn't give you an age when I was officially indoctrinated, but I could estimate that I could perform the soundtrack backwards and forwards by the end of elementary school.  The original movie with Robert Preston and Shirley Jones far outshines the more recent movie version with Matthew Broderick and Kristen Chenoweth. Yet, the movie versions fail to spark the audience's imagination like the stage version does.

Here's why.

The curtain rose and there was no train. Of course there was no train. But, the first scene takes place on a train . . . So . . .

Child me was not ready.

The actors sat upright on benches. The train whistle blew. They all lurched forward with gusto, and I believe I did, as well.

You see, it did not matter that there was no train on the stage. They made me believe they were on a train. I was in awe of their commitment to bouncing up and down for a four-minute song while they delivered a perfect tongue-twisting, witty expository. It was a moment in the theater that I will never forget.

That's exactly what this blog is dedicated to -- enshrining the moments from shows that have stuck with me from over the years.

To start, I will provide a crash-course in the other shows I saw in Columbus as part of Broadway's National Tours. The other posts will focus on each show I have been fortunate enough to see in New York.

The Music Man
As mentioned, the opening train sequence stood out to me as memorable. I also vaguely recall the end of "Marian the Librarian" wherein the dancers unabashedly threw papers into the air. It was so rebellious. I think it is human nature to want to be loud in a library. The temptation always lurks. For at least one song, the audience gets to live vicariously and is better for it.

42nd Street
I would argue that 42nd Street has one of the best opening scenes in musical theater history. For the curtain to raise slightly to reveal the tap dancing feet is pure bliss. It's such a tease!

I also will vividly remember one of Peggy's dance breaks in "Go Into Your Dance." She does a lightning speed series of triples, and I am fairly certain I have worn out that part of the CD recording from my childhood.

The moment that most scarred me in all of my theatre-going can be attributed to watching the title number. All I know is that the slinky dancer who stole a purse was being pursued by a police officer and the music was crescendoing . . . I physically grew uncomfortable. I knew something bad was going to happen. It was like we were being pushed up a roller coaster slope. I was terrified of the fall. When the gunshot went off, I am surprised I didn't black out.

After the show, there were some cast members in the lobby collecting donations for some charity. I remember my mother introducing me to one of the cast members. It was an odd experience. Seeing an actor offstage moments after watching them perform as someone else was as disorienting to me as, say, seeing one of my elementary teachers at the grocery store.

The Hairspray curtain

Hairspray
When does the theater experience really begin? Is it with buying the ticket? Hearing about the show? Seeing the marquee? I'm not sure. I do know that I began to better understand how the theater experience is not limited to what happens when the curtain is up and the lights are on. I was so confused and perplexed by the curtain for Hairspray. The curtain wasn't a lush red velvet. Instead it was a silky, pink-ish, droopy fabric. What were they thinking?

Ohhhhhhh. That's what.

When the curtain rose, the curtain clearly resembled a 60s hairdo. I was hooked.

I will also remember the tight choreography to "I Can Hear the Bells." Sure, it is not the most popular song in the show, but it brought me the most laughs that night.

All Shook Up
Okay, so this show was pretty disorienting to me when I was a child. I wouldn't be surprised if it still confused me. I'm not sure why we chose to see it, but I'm glad we did.

The only scene that I remember was a scene in a graveyard (I think?). There were statues. Well . . . were they statues?

I pulled out the binoculars and examined the throats and chests of all the statues. No movement.

But they're going to move, aren't they?

I zoomed in for a closer inspection.

Hmmm, they've been still for this whole scene, I guess they really are sta--

NO, THEY ARE NOT!

Magic. Just magic. How did they do it? I still don't know.

I swear they never moved a muscle.


Thoroughly Modern Millie
As much as I have grown to adore this show, I honestly don't recall much from this production. I do remember "The Speed Test." How could you forget?! I also remember how creative I thought it was for Millie to use her tap shoes to sound the typewriting in that scene.

I also recall the use of the projected lyrics in "Muqin." I had never seen a musical use a projected screen before, and I felt conflicted. I think tween Gabe had an issue with anachronism (even though, I suppose now that the use of a projector wasn't actually anachronistic). How dare they use a technology that wasn't relevant to the time period! But . . . the effect of the closed captioning was also hilarious.


The Lion King
I do not like to be that person who makes assertions about what other people should or shouldn't do in their lifetime. However, I believe everyone should see the opening song to The Lion King on stage before they die. There is no other show I've been to that is as transcendent as The Lion King in terms of transporting the audience to another place. Wonder is instilled in all audience members. Suddenly we are all children, basking at creativity.


In the Heights
This is the first show I've ever been to where I was able to sit in the first row. It was a different experience. The whole "I could see their spit" thing was real. Once more, actors became more human to me.

What most blew my mind, besides the incredible choreography, were the ends to each act. On my unofficial, not-real list of best endings to acts, In the Heights would be at the top.

Now, if I had been paying attention to my playbill, I would have seen that the Act 1 finale included the song "Blackout." I think I was so immersed in the show, that I hadn't opened my playbill from the start, though. The club dance scene was working into a frenzy and my pulse was rushing. Suddenly, the entire theater experienced a blackout. It was so devastating! What was going to happen? How would the managme--

And then the actors started to sing. They opened up cell phone lights. They started dancing. A dark blue light slowly faded in.

It was all part of the show. The city in the show experienced a blackout. They gave us the feeling of a power outage, too. We were suddenly closer to the experiences of the characters. The crowd actually cheered when it realized that we had essentially just been played by the director.

Not only was that genius, but then the scene ended with digital fireworks and metaphorical fireworks as Benny and Nina finally realize their undeniable love for each other. The writing and direction was, and is, perfection in my eyes.

So what's next? The next Broadway show I saw was two years later in the summer before my senior year of high school. It would be my first show in New York.  It was Anything Goes starring Sutton Foster and Joel Grey.