Tavie
dave foley
mark mckinney
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Saturday, March 06, 2004
Two solid hours of sleep before dawn. What more could a girl hope for?

So, the great thing about Sweeney Todd was that I am now a grownup. The show itself was okay. The production was fine, almost unchanged, I think, from the original. The first act moves terribly slowly, the second act seems rushed, but is more exciting. The music is immensely unhummable. This must be the musical where Sondheim got his reputation for that. And, oh, way too operatic. Horribly operatic. I really do hate opera. The only songs I felt at all stirring were "Pretty Women" and the second incarnation of "Johanna" (Act II). Not that I remember them, but I'm sure I enjoyed them at the time. Elaine Paige was very good. Everyone else was just too opera-singer-y.

No, the great part came at the end, where I was able to applaud honestly (thinking, I'm applauding for _Sweeney Todd_) and, as the final door slammed and the spotlight dropped, I thought, There's one demon put to bed. Because I can't really be afraid of high melodrama like that anymore. It was very creepy and gross, to be sure, but this was something like Mom snapping on the light to reveal that the monsters are just heaps of clothes.

Although I can totally see why I was afraid of it as a 16-year-old. There's this whole subplot having to do with asylums, and anything remotely mental-institutiony used to utterly traumatize me. Plus, I don't like it when people are shoved into ovens. So there was the whole Hansel-and-Gretel element. Furthermore, I'm scared enough of people who cut hair for a living without them having to go make a big production out of it. It played on all my worst fears-- perishing in fire, mental asylums, haircutting, complex carbohydrates-- certainly I was terrified!

It was lots of fun having the whole Night Out at the Theatre thing with Andrew. Most excitingly, he was compelled to come out and spend the night at Mint Manor-- he's asleep on the BRAND NEW COUCH right now! It was either that or spend the night the sole and captive audience of my father. I believe he made the wise choice. A smart boy, my Andrew.