21 Guns: I'm Totally Fine With Being An AMERICAN IDIOT

I was a Green Day fan when I was in middle school--not a big enough one to have their albums other than Dookie and Nimrod (one of the first CDs I ever owned, actually), but a big enough fan to know all the words to every song on those albums. I listened to them both recently and discovered that I still do, which is a little sad but there you go. As I've mentioned before, I really loved the narrative aspect of their songs, and the way the music often expresses emotions seemingly at odds with what the lyrics are saying, so a Green Day musical only seemed natural.

Listening to American Idiot, however, made me think otherwise. I had a hard time understanding the lyrics, let alone the story Green Day was trying to tell, and I couldn't understand how anyone could listen to it and think, "This is a show." I went into American Idiot expecting to have an enjoyable time, see great performances, and listen to some fun music.

I got MUCH more than that.

There's very little dialogue and the songs don't exactly work in a traditionally dramatic way, but there's a real story in American Idiot that ought to be told--and that belongs on Broadway. I kind of feel like the show is what Spring Awakening tries to be, or what a lot of people says it is. But I found that show incredibly frustrating for a lot of reasons, mostly because it kind of sets up rules and then forgets about them, especially in the second act, and because it has such a black-and-white, preachy message.

I expected American Idiot to be similar, but it's not at all. Here, there are very clear rules about what the songs do and about how the characters sing. They very rarely sing directly to each other; they sing about each other, they sing about themselves (in a roundabout way) to the audience, they have ensemble members sing for them. These characters just have such a difficult time expressing themselves and finding basic human connections, which for me is what the show is really about. I love that the show ends with "Whatsername," which captures the essence of the show for me. It's so sad and beautiful and I don't want to spoil it, but it's also not the way I thought the show would end, which I really value.

I was also surprised (in a good way) about the way the women were written. When I heard two of the female characters were named "Whatsername" and "Extraordinary Girl," I was prepared for them to not be full characters, and for the show to be kind of sexist--especially since all three women are girlfriends. I think calling those two characters those names is really misleading, since neither of them actually have those names. Extraordinary Girl isn't flat out called "The Extraordinary Girl," which is what I expected; she's described as being AN extraordinary girl, which is a huge difference. I also really appreciated how Heather, the girlfriend who gets pregnant, is just as in over her head as Tunny is. That storyline was so delicately done, and it could have easily been sexist and heavy-handed.

It was also just amazing to see how staging, (an AMAZING) set, and choreography can come together to tell a story. The score certainly does that, but it didn't do that on its own for me, at least. I needed a visual context for the songs to have meaning. And the creative team of American Idiot provided that beautifully. It's a shame that the score doesn't qualify as original (even though honestly, did JCS or Evita have 50% new material when it was onstage? I don't think so), but I really, really hope it takes Best Musical on Sunday. That's the kind of show that makes me desperate to run home and write.

I Knew I Wasn't The Only One Who Wanted This

Lily Allen is writing a musical! And it's an adaptation of Bridget Jones' Diary! I think this is perfect. The narratives in Lily Allen's songs are a big part of why I love them; the girl knows how to tell a story, AND she knows how to do it in music as well as lyrics. I think Lily Allen's voice fits so well with the material, too. Bridget Jones' Diary is one of the only romantic comedies I really enjoy, and there's something so perfectly British about the tone of the film and about the character of Bridget Jones herself--a Britishness that Lily Allen's work shares. There's a very specific,hilarious brand of good-natured defeatism mixed with sassy optimism, and I'm not sure I could think of anyone better than Lily Allen to express that.

Of course, I'm also thrilled to see actual pop music in a musical. As much as I wish that more of these rock and pop shows would be written by theatre composers and lyricists, instead of rock and pop stars who probably won't write another show, I'm happy to see another artist from the mainstream music world writing for theatre. And who knows, maybe Lily Allen will be really good at it, love it, and do more theatre work. Elton John is a Broadway veteran, after all, and Duncan Sheik and Steven Slater didn't stop writing musicals after Spring Awakening.

Music Directors Need Tonys, Too

I totally agree that there should be a Tony for Best Ensemble. There are some shows that just don't have a clear-cut lead, and in those cases, more than usual, a stellar performance from one person requires stellar performances across the board. Aside from the plays mentioned in the article (weird it left out musicals), a show like SPELLING BEE or [title of show] perfectly makes the case for such an award.

It's hard to say if a Best Ensemble Tony will ever exist, or if it'll last. I love the Tonys to the point where I am bitter about decisions that were made before I was born, but Tony Logic is so fickle and unpredictable that most of the time I just have to laugh. The Best Replacement Tony was, in my opinion, not such a great idea, and I'm glad that ended up not happening, but I do strongly believe in a Special Theatrical Event Tony.

But the Tony Award that needs to exist above all other Tony Awards is one for Music Director (as the crazily talented Georgia Stitt pointed out on Twitter). How does this not exist?! I mean, seriously. Seriously?! Obviously the committee understands that music is really important and that a lot goes into it, since there's a Tony for Best Orchestrations and one for Sound Design (both of which I fully support). So not having a Music Direction Tony is ridiculous and incredibly disrespectful of the insane amounts of work music directors do. Spend ten minutes in rehearsal of a musical, and that becomes extremely clear. The Tony Awards should recognize and honor that.

Tearing Up The Slips of Paper: EVERYDAY RAPTURE

It's been about a month since I saw EVERYDAY RAPTURE, so I really should have written about it earlier (sorry!). But better late than never, right? I wanted some time to process it, anyway--there's a lot going on in the show, and it affected me a lot so I wanted to get a little distance.

Going into the show, I only knew that it was Sherie Rene Scott's one-woman show--that's it. I didn't realize it would be autobiographical at all, and I'm glad about that; it let me go into the show without any preconceptions. I generally prefer see shows as cold as possible, anyway, but I think it was important for me to do so in this case. I'm not the biggest fan of one-person shows, or autobiographical shows, for that matter (although I really enjoyed WISHFUL DRINKING).

EVERYDAY RAPTURE is much more than a autobiographical one-woman show, however. Sherie Rene Scott's childhood in Kansas and early experiences in New York provide the framework for the show, but for me it was much more of an exploration of faith and performance. How do you balance a belief that you are a speck of dust with the certainty that the world was created for you?

I didn't grow up a Mennonite, but I am a practicing Catholic so there's much in Scott's upbringing I relate to. My religious education and background wasn't nearly as extreme, and I didn't have the kind of community that Scott apparently did--even in high school, I was the token Catholic amongst my friends--but that grappling with humility is certainly something I recognize. Only for me, it's not "I am a speck of dust;" it's more like, "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord." Or even reconciling "Blessed are those who have not seen and still believe" with the very logical, science-based framework I grew up in (my parents are scientists, I was a high school debater, and I'm dating a med student).

I think the issue of integrating faith and religion into your daily life, is a really important one, especially when they're seemingly at odds with your career or with the way you life your life in general. It means a lot to see someone tackle that on Broadway. And honestly, it makes me so happy to see a Broadway show that takes Christianity and faith seriously. I have so much admiration for Kristin Chenoweth for publicly speaking about her Christianity and showing people that it's entirely possible to be a Christian and work in the New York arts scene and be liberal and love gay people. Not to say that Christians in New York theatre are oppressed, but being a Christian and being conservative, Republican, and/or close-minded have became the same thing for a lot of people in this part of the country, and it's unbelievably heartening to see people actively disprove that.

My hope is that audiences leave EVERYDAY RAPTURE with a deeper understanding of what a person's relationship with religion can be--or a relationship with any belief system, really. I'm going to force my non-theatre loving, culturally Buddhist boyfriend to see it in hopes it helps him better understand that side of me.

EVERYDAY RAPTURE is also about a lot of other things--there's a brilliantly funny/frightening sequence involving a fan on youtube that is packed with fascinating issues--but the crux of the show (as I see it, at least) is what stuck with me the most. I'm looking forward to going back.

But What We Are Is An Illusion

I saw the LA CAGE revival a little over a week ago, and it was basically what I expected, although I had no idea the material would hit as close to home for me as it did. Not that I am a gay man whose engaged son thinks I'm not "masculine" enough for his conservative finacee's parents, but I am going through something similar that definitely colored my experience of the show. Knowing the plot and a few of the songs, I never thought I would tear up at any point during LA CAGE--I'm not much of a Jerry Herman girl (though I am mildly obsessed with "I Won't Send Roses"). But obviously I underestimated how much the subject matter would affect me, and even though I felt a little ridiculous, I always love it when a show moves me in an unexpected way.

Having said that, I'm not much of a fan of the material itself, although I had a good time and I loved the performances (Kelsey Grammar's in particular, and I really enjoyed Robin de Jesus). My main issue with the show is that it feels so dated and not edgy anymore. I know in 1984, LA CAGE was groundbreaking, and I think it's exactly what audiences (and theatre people) needed at that particular time. But right now, when this is its second revival and when the political and social climate has changed, particularly regarding homosexuality, I wish the production had been more innovative. What Georges and Jean-Michel ask of Albin is devastating and horrifying; that Albin comes around to it is a huge display of love and trust that for me didn't come across. What I would really love to see in the show would be some non-traditional casting choices, which I feel would add another layer to the show and restore some of the edginess I'm sure it originally had. Being an infant during the original run, I can only go off what I've heard :)

Specifically, I would absolutely love to see an actor of Asian descent play Albin (B.D. Wong, anyone?). I think that would make a lot of scenes completely terrifying, especially the one in the second act where Albin tries to act more "masculine." With all the negative stereotypes about Asian men--many of which are very similar to negative stereotypes about gay men--that number would be not just about acting "masculine," but about acting "white." Granted, I'm probably more sensitive to the issue since my boyfriend is of Asian descent, but I think it's an important issue that isn't often seen on a Broadway stage. It would definitely make that scene a lot more uncomfortable for audiences, but it really bothered me that the scene was played for laughs. I found it just heartbreaking, and I think an Asian Albin would bring that element out, simply by his ethnicity.

Post-Show Update, SONDHEIM ON SONDHEIM, iPhone App!

My show this weekend went really well! Unfortunately my collaborator is still out of the country and couldn't be there, but from what I told her (and from the photos I took) she seemed happy with how the show turned out. When she gets back, we're going to work on it some more and possibly expand it--I think it could be a 90 minute show, instead of the 17 minute one it is now. Besides, working with Hailey is so amazing I want to write as many songs with her as possible.

Aside from being my first non-academic, open to the public, performance of a musical, JADE RABBIT is also my first professional piece, since I got paid for writing it. Not like, an exorbitant amount, but I got a check for writing a musical, which is pretty much the dream at this point in my career. It's funny, I actually almost forgot about that because getting a production alone is exciting enough. Anyway, it was a great way to start my post-Tisch writing career (even though my boyfriend was away at school and couldn't be there...sad face), and I'm glad I don't have to think about the moon landing and Korean folklore for a little while. Now onto modern China and the Cultural Revolution!

I saw SONDHEIM ON SONDHEIM a few weeks ago, and I really loved it. My favorite aspects were how the show really went out of its way to stress how human Sondheim is, particularly by having him talk about his writing process. As a writer myself, I found that especially fascinating, and there's something reassuring about hearing Sondheim say he likes to write lying down because it's easier to fall asleep (I fall asleep while writing too!) and how he writes with soft pencils because sharpening them frequently is a great excuse to procrastinate (I make up reasons to procrastinate that I can pretend are productive, too!). I was never someone who ran around idolizing Sondheim--I deeply love a fair number of his shows, but there are definitely some I don't care for--but it's comforting to know that even the man who redefined what musical theatre can do finds the art form difficult.

I also loved the parts of the show that re-created scenes from shows, especially from MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG. I almost cried when the show started with the MERRILY overture--I hadn't been expecting that at all, and I honestly never thought I'd ever hear that overture in a Broadway house. MERRILY is one of my favorite Sondheim shows and one of my favorite shows, period, so having so much MERRILY love in SONDHEIM ON SONDHEIM was incredible. I mean, Euan Morton's "Franklin Shepherd, Inc" is probably the best case for a MERRILY revival (please...make this happen). My only complaint about the show is that there wasn't even a mention of PACIFIC OVERTURES, which is another favorite show of mine, and "Someone In A Tree" is my favorite Sondheim song (sorry, the scores of SUNDAY IN THE PARK, COMPANY, and MERRILY). I feel a little spoiled complaining about this when there was that lovely revival a few years ago, but I was only able to see it once, and I miss it.

I actually volunteer ushered during the show, which was so interesting. I think it's really important for everyone working in theatre to experience as many different jobs as they can, and I'd never really ushered before. Handing out programs for general seating readings was the closest I'd gotten. It was really awesome to be in the house an hour before the show; theatres have a different vibe to them then.

I also loved being able to glimpse what ushers have to put up with from audiences. Not that anyone was rude to me, but it made me more mindful of how I treat ushers and how I can make their jobs easier, which I think is really valuable for anyone who goes to the theatre.

I want to write about ANYONE CAN WHISTLE and EVERYDAY RAPTURE, but I'll save that for later. Before I end this post, though, I just want to let everyone know that Theatermania has a new iPhone app that's available for free on iTunes. I don't have an iPhone myself, but the app looks really awesome. Try it out and let me know how it is!

Like Science and Flowers?

If you're free this Friday and Saturday and are looking for some good new theatre, check out my show! My show, JADE RABBIT, is part of THE LEGEND OF FLOWERS, which consists of four new original 15 minute musicals. The shows are all written by Tisch Graduate Musical Theatre Writing alums (all but one are classmates of mine), and they're all inspired by the Japanese space program project that sent cherry blossom seeds into space. Mine is about a high school girl trying to stop the 1969 moon landing, and Korean folklore plays a central part in the story.

Performances are Friday at 3:30 and 8 at Lincoln Center and at 2 and 3:30 Sunday at Queens Botanical Garden (mine is in the 3:30 performance on Sunday, but on Friday both performances include all the shows). You can find more information here. I hope you can come!

Scott Pilgrim & Kick-Ass Vs. The Movies

I have a deep love of the Scott Pilgrim books; it's actually one of the few stories I've read that I would love to musicalize. Of course, there was no way I'd get the rights to that even if there weren't a movie coming out, so instead I've had to content myself with re-reading the books every few months and daydreaming of the Scott Pilgrim tour of Toronto I will embark upon the next time I'm back there. (I've been in love with Toronto since I was there for barely 24 hours a year and a half ago, and Scott Pilgrim has only made it worse.)

But there IS a movie, and its official trailer was recently released and it looks awesome. There's so much going on in those books: there's the beautiful, genuine way the characters and their relationships are written; the way Bryan Lee O'Malley celebrates Toronto while establishing the city as a character; the fantastic yet natural use of video game and classic comic book conventions; the expert and delicate balance of Scott's straightforward mission (to defeat Ramona's 7 evil exes) with his more subtle mental journey and, similarly, with Ramona's own internal arc.

I was concerned that a lot of those things would get lost in a movie, causing it to end up as yet another indie romance. This trailer, however, has me confident that the movie won't disappoint. It's not always wise to judge a movie by its trailer, but there are so many little things in this one (such as the comic-book style sound effects and the integration of the video game elements) that to me are enough to show that the movie has got it right. The tone seems perfect; it's taking itself seriously, in that those weirder aspects aren't cartoonish and are taken in stride, but it's not by any means a heavy film, and watching the trailer is fun.

I don't want to get my hopes up, but it seems like the movie does full justice to one of my favorite series. I can't wait to see for myself.



I am also extremely excited/apprehensive about the Kick-Ass movie, for somewhat similar reasons. I love graphic violence in my comic books as much as the next person (...maybe a little more than the next person...I'm a big fan of Warren Ellis and Garth Ennis, after all...), but for me, Kick-Ass is more about...well, kicking-ass. It's about the role comics in general and superheroes in particular play in our lives; it's about the consuming loneliness that drives a high school kid to put on a wetsuit and face off against mobsters, even after being beaten to a pulp. It's about hating who you are so much only a mask lets you be who you want to be.

I hope all that's in the film. Letting the awesome action sequences and the premise overshadow the pain at the root of the story would be really too bad, and a missed opportunity.

Regardless, I'm thrilled that there have been so many comic book movies lately, especially since lately some of them have veered away from bigger, more mainstream ones. I never would have thought Scott Pilgrim or Kick-Ass would be adapted to film, so to have them both coming out so close to each other makes it even more amazing. And, like with musicals, anything that gets people to read comics is fine by me--even if it's not perfect.

Too Much Heaven On Their Minds

I didn't grow up with musical theatre, which is another post in itself, and my love for theatre came gradually, with a few show pushing me along until a weekend in New York six and a half years ago tipped the balance. The first musical I discovered on my own that I actually liked was JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR when I was in seventh grade.

My parents, who are neither into musicals nor into rock music, somehow had the concept album of JCS on record. I don't know which of them had bought it in the early 1970s--both being practicing Catholics, it could have been either of them, since I assume the title is what caught their attention--but it was there in the study amongst my dad's folk music records. Back then, my sisters shared a room and we kept our one computer in the study, so I that's where I wrote all my middle school and high school papers. We had dial-up until the early 2000s (late high school for me), but even though the internet wasn't really a distraction back then, music certainly was. There was a whole stereo system up there (and still is, when that room was converted to a bedroom for one of my sisters), complete with CD, cassette, and record player, so I used to search through my dad's CDs and records when I wanted new writing music. In seventh grade, I was starting to get into rock and heavy metal, so I would look through his record collection in hopes of finding an album by The Doors or Jimi Hendrix. Instead, I found an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical.

I don't remember why I tried listening to it--probably because of the title, since I certainly hadn't heard anything about it before--but when I did, I was floored. The only musicals I had heard up to that point were movies of a few Rodgers and Hammerstein (which were all right, but felt stuffy and unrelatable...except for THE SOUND OF MUSIC), HELLO, DOLLY (which I hated), Muppet movies, and Disney movies. JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR sounded nothing like any of those movies. It was rock music--early '70s rock, but rock nonetheless--and it put the gospels, which I had been reading my whole life, in an entirely new context. "Heaven On Their Minds" quickly became one of my favorite songs for how it concisely and beautifully depicted Judas as someone who did love Jesus, but whose concern for the bigger picture and persistence in viewing Him as simply another radical led to that Thursday night in the garden. I loved how it focused on Mary Magdalene and Simon Peter, two figures I'd always particularly liked for their sheer humanity. While I still don't really like "Gethsemane," I loved how the song gave voice to Jesus' doubt and reluctance to follow through with His crucifixation. And I loved how so many of the lyrics were directly from the Bible.

I was obsessed with that album, listening to it over and over every time I had to write a paper for school. I soon discovered that we had the movie version on VHS, which I loved for how deliciously campy it was. And for Carl Anderson's incredible performance as Judas (who honestly gets the best songs--I mean, "Heaven On Their Minds?" "Damned For All Time/Blood Money?" Seriously). Years later, when I was a freshman in college, I saw the tour with Carl Anderson a few months before he died. Seeing my favorite Judas in my first time seeing that show staged during Holy Week was tremendous. By that point, I'd also gotten the 1996 recording (with Zubin Varla, who I loved a Judas and would later love as Freddie in CHESS), and knew all the lyric differences between the tour, the '96 recording, the concept album, and the movie.

I don't listen to JCS that often, but I do listen to it every year during Holy Week, when I also usually watch the movie (and the video of the 2000 production). I have probably six recordings of JCS (my favorites are the '96 one for its completeness and for Zubin, and the Australian cast recording for its amazing, rocked out arrangements), which I cycle through during that week.

I'm much more of a Sondheim/LaChiusa fan now than a Lloyd Webber one (though there are some shows of his I love), but "Heaven On Their Minds" is still one of my favorite theatre songs--and once I started writing theatre myself, I realized just how complex that song really is. For one thing, there's no real hook. The structure is verse intro/AABAA/abbreviated A, but the As don't all share the same phrase--the same lyrical place to rest. Most, but not all the A sections start with "Listen, Jesus," but musically that's not a hook; it moves too fast and is too unresolved. That's pretty unusual, but it makes perfect sense given Judas' character and the tension he feels between his loyalty to Jesus and his deep concern that Jesus is attracting the wrong kind of attention. "I Don't Know How To Love Him" is a much more standard AABA song structurally and lyrically, with the hook in the first line of each A.

The other weird thing about "Heaven On Their Minds" (which is AWESOME) is the time signature. Most rock and pop music is in 4/4 (four beats per measure, with a quarter note getting one beat). Musical theatre songs are much more varied; A LITTLE NIGHT MUSIC is largely in 3/4, for instance. But "Heaven On Their Minds" is in 7/8--seven beats per measure, with an eighth note getting one beat. Writing lyrics to a song in 7/8 is a little crazy; I can't imagine what learning a song in that time signature must be like.

And of course, there's a lot going on lyrically, as Judas switches from addressing Jesus directly to talking about him ("Table, chair and oaken chest/Would have suited Jesus best"). Judas moves from expressing his fear that if the other apostles knew Jesus really was just a normal guy, not the Son of God, they'd turn on him, to his concern that the Roman authorities will think Jesus is a revolutionary and crack down on them. It's an honest, harried message that, though misguided, is clearly well-intentioned. Which is probably the only way you can introduce Judas, whose name has became to basically mean "traitor" over the past two thousand or so years.

So today and tomorrow, I'll be listening to a lot of JCS, and probably watching the movie. It wasn't the show that addicted me to theatre, but it cracked open the genre for me, so listening to it (in addition to having Easter significance) reminds me who I write theatre for: those kids growing up without really knowing what theatre is. If one of my shows can do for someone what JCS did for me, I'd know I'd done my job.

To Life

Friday night, Linda and I saw What If? at La MaMa, a show that takes musical theatre songs and reinterprets them. I'd never seen anything there before, which is weird because it's practically around the corner from where I went to grad school and I walked by there a zillion times, so right away I was excited to see the space. The show was in their smaller space, and I liked it a lot. It had this weird kind of part warehouse, part barn feel to it that I thought was really interesting, and it was kind of exciting to think about what kinds of shows would really work there.

You can read about the show overall at Linda's blog; I just want to talk about how moving I found their version of "L'Chaim" from FIDDLER ON THE ROOF, which was done in a slow, Cuban style.

I'm probably the only Brandeis alum who will say this, but I'm not much of a FIDDLER person. I think the book is a lot stronger than the score, but overall the show doesn't really speak to me. I absolutely loved the recent revival, though--I thought David Leveaux's staging was brilliant, and it was the first time I felt anything emotional from the material. I actually became mildly obsessed with what I thought the show's potential was (not in a pretentious way!), so much so that I even wrote a play adaptation of it, which I set in a Korean-American family living in Vermont soon after 9/11.

So there's something about FIDDLER that touches me, but the material alone doesn't really bring it out. And "L'Chaim" is one of my least favorite songs from that show, right there with "Wonder of Wonders, Miracle of Miracles." The arrangement I heard Friday night, however, was amazing. They played it once through without vocals, then again with two singers, and listening to the song slowed down significantly--especially without vocals--allowed me to focus on the music in a way I never had before. I was surprised by how beautiful the melody became at that tempo; the song felt like a prayer, rather than a rousing celebration as it is originally. There's some really cool musical things going on that I hadn't noticed, too. The melody in the hook, for example, does this really awesome, kind of unexpected thing where it goes a little flat (I think, I'm not a composer!), and it's so satisfying. I think its corresponding lyric is "L'Chaim, to life." I think it's actually the notes "L'Chaim" sits on that I really love.

Hearing the song in that style also created such a vivid scene for me. As much as I enjoyed the other reinterpretations, none of them conjured up a whole story the way this version of "L'Chaim" did for me. I felt like I understood the character singing and that I was there, in some kind of factory in Cuba, listening to someone trying to inspire a crowd by paying homage to God. It was honest and simple and beautiful, and I know I'll never hear that song the same way again.

Let Me Rest In Peace

I watched the Buffy musical episode, "Once More With Feeling," the other day to write this piece on it for work. A college roommate of mine was a huge fan of the show, so I've seen a few episodes (including this one), but that was easily six or seven years ago. I've never been able to get into the show, even though everyone tells me I'd love it and thinks I'm insane because I don't.

It's hard to evaluate an episode from such a late season when you don't watch the show, but even from a musical theatre standpoint, I didn't like the episode. I found it really boring--there were a LOT of ballads, which made the episode drag for me, and I found most of the lyrics heightened to the point of being ridiculous, especially in Buffy's big number at the end ("Something To Sing About," I think it's called). I don't mind that the vast majority of numbers are about character, rather than plot--especially since the revelations in those songs feature hugely in the storyline overall--but those songs didn't tell me anything about who those characters are, except that Spike and Buffy are angsty. The songwriting in Dr. Horrible, which I'll write about later, is much better in my opinion.

I don't think the episode is bad; I say a lot of good things about it in my article. I just don't see what's so great about it, and I certainly don't think it's the best musical episode ever. A lot of my dislike may simply stem from my dislike of Buffy overall. The show is too precious, takes itself too seriously, and tries too hard to be funny and weird for my taste. I know this is just a personal preference thing; again, I know a ton of people who love Buffy. It's also possible that I just don't like Joss Whedon's TV shows, since I couldn't make it through the Firefly pilot.

(Although I hear the show gets better, and if I judged all shows by pilots, I wouldn't like True Blood or Battlestar Galactica.) I like Dr. Horrible a lot, though, and as I've mentioned before, I LOVE Joss Whedon's run on Astonishing X-Men, so I'm willing to say that my taste is just weird and leave it at that.

Why I Don't Understand Movie Awards

I didn't grow up watching movies, so I just don't think to see movies the way most people do. I also find it hard to sit through movies when I watch them at home--I get distracted really easily, and it's hard for me to sit still for more than an hour at a time unless I'm writing. It's weird; I have no problem seeing movies in the theatre (although again, I don't that often) or seeing shows, and I can watch a lot of T.V. episodes back to back. I think I'm suited more to T.V. than to movies in general (although I don't watch very many shows), but that's another post.

So because I'm not really into movies, I've never been into the Academy Awards--or any awards, really, other than the Tonys. It seems weird to me; I don't understand how you can compare EVERY SINGLE MOVIE RELEASED IN ONE YEAR to each other when they can have totally different resources, intentions, styles, and techniques. Looking at this year's list of nominees, it really seems like the Oscars are about standard Hollywood films, with a few foreign and indie ones thrown in. It's hard for me to understand what the point is. But that's because I don't really watch movies and that whole world is very foreign to me, I guess.

I think a lot of why I find it kind of confusing is because I'm looking at it from a theatre perspective. The Tonys have their share of problems, but they look at a set number of shows: just the ones that opened on Broadway in that given year, which limits the number of shows enormously. It's definitely possible for everyone on the nominating committee to see every Broadway show, but there's no physical way anyone could see every movie ever released in one year. I mean...maybe you could...but there must be so many!

I also have a hard time understanding how you can compare like, an action film, a romantic comedy, and an animated film. It's true that musicals and plays can be very different from each other, but at least they have the same basic space and tools to work with. The script mattering more in theatre than in movies makes a difference, too. I honestly don't know what criteria people use to evaluate movies objectively. Direction, I guess...but I have a hard time understanding directing in terms of film, so I'm kind of at a loss with that, too.

My boyfriend is a huge movie nerd, and he tried to explain all this to me the other night. It must be so frustrating trying to explain stuff to me when I haven't seen 90% of movies that everyone else has seen...and when I don't understand how a movie can win Best Screenplay and Best Direction and not win Best Picture. It's a strange, fascinating world, and I'd like to understand more of it. Which means I need to watch more movies.

She'd Be Fabulous At The Tonys

YES. Lady Gaga has the kind of in-your-face theatricality that most theatre people find hard to resist--and it's exactly the kind of theatricality that musicals have a long history of embracing. Although I'm a lyricist, it's Lady Gaga's music and arresting images and choreography in her videos that grab me. There's something about her music and her image that makes me feel like it tells some kind of story, or that it can at least be used in a narrative sense. I've long been a proponent of artists in other genres working in musical theatre, and (especially) of musical theatre artists drawing from other art forms. I think everyone working in theatre, particularly writers, can learn a lot from someone like Lady Gaga.

Ultimately, it may just be that Lady Gaga understand spectacle and emotion and how to balance the two. I find the opening notes of "Bad Romance" just as exciting as the opening words of Sunday in the Park with George. They're as different as they could possibly be, but they both have story and emotion at their core. That doesn't always happen in pop music, but it's thrilling when it does. And if Lady Gaga ever wrote a musical, I'd be there every chance I got.

Be Italian

I know I'm very much a minority on this, but I really enjoyed the Nine movie. I thought the cast overall was incredibly strong, and I liked how they rearranged the song order, even though I really missed "The Bells of Saint Sebastian" and "Be On Your Own." There were things that weren't perfect--and maybe I'd feel differently if the musical were a favorite of mine--but on the whole I think it's worth seeing.

My biggest complaint is with the use of musical numbers being Guido fantasy sequences, like in the Chicago film. That worked well there because Roxie wants desperately to be a vaudeville star, and those songs are very vaudevillian anyway. That doesn't make as much sense for film director Guido, which makes the songs come off seeming kind of gimmicky. I would have preferred a lot more singing and for the songs to be really integrated book songs, the way they are in the show--I totally buy the world of Italian cinema being heightened and intense in that way.

But if the songs had to be more an expression of Guido's psyche, I would have liked to see them occur within the real world, not in their own limbo musical number space. During a naturalistic scene, we could suddenly go into Guido's head, seeing real life the way he sees a movie set. Maybe then the fantasy sequence could be Guido "directing" the character in question, and her song would be what Guido wants her to sing (the way it actually is in the movie), while it's clear that she feels otherwise. That would be a slightly different movie, but I think that structure would get at Guido's particular issues more than using Chicago's structure did.

Nine Lives

She's back!



I knew Joss Whedon hadn't gotten rid of her for good, but damn am I relieved to hear Kitty Pryde's coming back. I haven't been really into comics for that long, and the only X-Men series I've read is Astonishing X-Men, but I absolutely adore Kitty in that and was upset over what happened to her. I'm still really enjoying Astonishing--with Warren Ellis writing it, how could I not?--and I like the current team a lot (especially Hisako and her interactions with Wolverine), but I miss Kitty. I'm definitely picking up that issue of Uncanny.