newest older email

2006-10-19 - 7:34 p.m.

We�re past midway in the run now, approaching a gleaming future where I might even write about something else for a change.

It�s become this alterna-routine, like I�m living another life for a few weeks. I get up late, practise my singing and dancing in the afternoon, go to the theatre, warm up and then do an opera in front of 500 people like it�s the most natural thing in the world. I say �do� � I of course mean �take a miniscule part in�, but otherwise my days aren�t too dissimilar to the principal cast members.

Lots of friends have been to see, mostly sitting in the seats I scoped out where you can see up the leading lady�s negligee whilst pretending to concentrate on the unfolding drama. Opera is all sex and death, anyway. Like the bible.

Last night was a different audience experience. The theatre has an admirable policy of inclusion, and tickets were handed out to various members of the community, giving people a chance to see opera who might not otherwise.

For the most part, this was a great idea, save for the moronic tools who saw fit to take mobile phone calls, eat popcorn and give running commentaries on the stage action. There�s a scene where we al fall asleep. Cue some prize nobber in the front row saying �They�re just pretending to be asleep� � way to slam a sledgehammer through the fourth wall, there, buddy.

The thing about live theatre (with my many, many years in the business) is that you can�t really stop and restart without completely ruining it, but the guy on the front row was doing that all by himself anyway.

Towards the end, one of the leads was obviously getting completely irate about things. He did the only thing he could do, and delivered one of his feistier lines directly at them at full volume, bringing a cheer from the audience and a gobful of thespian spittle onto the offenders.

Sadly, the choice of line proved to be unfortunate. Having just regained his sight after being blinded by bird poo (opera is all sex, death and animal droppings), he is understandably joyous, and sings, �I can SEEEEEEE� (opera is also all about stating the obvious, see also �I�m dying�, �I have been stabbed�, etc). The line blasted out into the faces of the chatters, and as the audience cheered, only a couple of us close enough heard the man in the audience say meekly, �I can�t�I�m blind.�

This did take the sting out of the rebuke somewhat, but I�m sorry, not being able to see doesn�t give you licence to act like a complete wanker. Plus, if you�re blind, why take a front row seat in the first place?

Jude Law is coming tomorrow night. Time to give pretty boy a few acting lessons�

Back
hosted by DiaryLand.com