Porsche Guy and I were at the theatre this weekend. We had tickets for a musical production of “White Christmas”, just the thing to get our Christmas season going, we thought. A real feel-good, old-fashioned story.
It truly was a lot of fun to watch. I mean, who wouldn’t enjoy ten tap-dancing guys and gals clambering up and down stairs and fake pianos? I’m honestly not a huge fan of that Broadway belt-it-out type singing, but I do appreciate the power of the singers’ voices to be able to project like they do. The acting was a bit over the top, but again, it’s supposed to be like that in musical theatre, and also that’s how actors acted way back in the 1950’s when the original movie was made. So we did enjoy it a great deal – and we in the audience got to sing “White Christmas” along with the cast on the stage, so as far as I’m concerned, any singing I get to do in public is a big win.
About three quarters of the way through the first act, however, the fire alarm in the theatre started to wail. I thought it was part of the play, and even when a voice came over the PA system saying “Will all the actors please leave the stage”, I still didn’t get it. I got it when they turned the house lights up, though. This was most emphatically not part of the play.
Now, do you remember what happened the last time PG and I went to see a musical, back last spring at this same theatre? It was “Les Misérables”, and the sound board fizzled out, so after a delay of forty minutes or so, the performance was cancelled and everybody had to either rebook their tickets or get a refund. So PG and I don’t have the greatest track record when it comes to musicals.
So we all sat there for five or ten minutes, talking animatedly amongst ourselves. Then came an announcement over the PA. PG and I froze. Not again, we fervently hoped.
The announcer told us that it appeared that there was a malfunction with the fire alarm system, there was definitely no fire so no need to evacuate, but the firefighters were on their way to the theatre to check things out and give the all clear. They hoped to continue the performance as soon as possible.
They “hoped”? Oh noze!
Shortly afterward, two handsome, strapping young firefighters came striding down the centre aisle, to a smattering of applause. Several minutes later, they left, waving, accompanied by more applause. We waited. PG was getting very antsy – and negative. “It’s been too long. They’re going to cancel this one too!”
But then, after we’d been waiting about twenty-five minutes total, they announced that the play would be continuing, so could everybody please return to their seats. A couple of minutes later, the house lights again dimmed, the orchestra started up again, and the curtain rose again on the scene that had been so rudely interrupted by that wayward fire alarm. The play carried on, and we in the audience certainly got our money’s worth!
But now I’m starting to wonder about musicals, PG and me. So far, we are two for two in terms of “incidents” at musicals. We have tickets to one more this season, in May 2010. It should be a good show. After all, what could possibly go wrong?