I sold my soul to the devil. And I paid for it, literally. Cost me $120 plus $10 ticket processing charge and $1.50 facility restoration fee. That $1.50 really chaps my ass. First, I have no idea what it is really used for—if anything. Second, when I think of what that $1.50 would do for one of those Sally Struthers kids—okay, I am actually a horrible person and haven't ever sent any money to those Sally Struthers kids, so my righteous indignation is misplaced if not completely inappropriate.
The devil happens to be Mel Brooks. He and Mr. Mehan were sitting in front of me at Young Frankenstein last night. I had a great seat, Row F. I usually love being that close to the stage, but a shitty show smells even worse up close.
I vowed I wasn't going to see the show. I objected morally to the $700 ticket price for premium seats. But you can probably tell from the Sally Struthers example that my moral fabric is about as pure as a poly-cotton blend.
What's more, I hate the stinking movie. And I hated The Producers on Broadway. I don't like Mel Brooks' humor at all. Okay, I do love the story about him having a party and getting into a fight with Anne Bancroft. At one point she screamed, "Don't touch my instrument!' His reply was, "If it's such an instrument, play Begin the Beguine on it right now." Okay, I probably shouldn't have used quotes because I probably didn't get that verbatim.
How is it possible to throw all that money on stage and BORE me? I laughed slightly twice. That's 60 bucks a laugh, kids. I could stick a feather up my ass and it would tickle me more. How much does a feather go for these days? I could have my Grandma Mabel send me one for free, a peacock feather no less so I could really get a belly laugh.
And poor Meghan Melally. What the hell was she doing up there? She was like a comedy black hole. I will give it up for Christopher Fitzgerald who was brilliant. But just because something shines in the middle of turd, doesn't mean you should go near it.
I did have a little interaction with Michele Lee in the ticket line. She spoke to me, thank you very much. It was a highlight—though hardly prophetic regarding the two hours that followed.
I happened to go with a friend who is a big fan of the movie, so I can't say this is plague theatre. But if I had to choose between seeing this show again and bleeding out my internal organs from ebola, I'd really have to think about it.
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HC: Whoa, Rodney, you deserve some GOOD theater, man. Although usually you have to sit through three stinkers in a row, I find. At least with movies.
What's next on your theatre-going agenda?
Best lines in your blog? For me, a tie between "Just because something shines in the middle of a turd, doesn't mean you should go near it" and "a shitty show smells even worse up close." Am I hearing a little of your Grandma in there? Or was it your mother who said that great line about holding shit in your hand? Whomever originated all this colorful and stinky stuff, I love it!
(I'm glad The Light in the Piazza is closed so you can't "review" it!!)
Why the fuck would you pay $131.50 to see a show you KNEW you were going to hate? You don't like Mel Brooks' humor, you didn't like his last show, and you hate the 'stinking movie'. I haven't seen the show yet, but from your 'review', I bet I'd like it.
Was it worth the money to be able to bitch about it for the rest of your (appaerently) humorless, miserable life?
I'd suggest that next time, you do us all a favor and take the ebola option.
AV: Gee Rodney ... a little obsessive about excrement? Perhaps not. I can imagine that the dismal state of the entertainment options there in the blighted big city obligates one to employ as many shit metaphors as possible.
They're funny too. Don't you just love when that happens?
Me, I'm not doing theater these days, unless it's playing to the back row in my own mind. Nope, it's iTunes video and catching up on Battlestar Galactica, baby! That, and looking wistfully at the local arthouse theater marquee every once in a while.
You reminded me to cut my cat's toenails, btw. For that, I thank you.
And I hope you pay less for more Real Soon Now.
Mama had the great line about "wish in one hand and shit in the other" but Grandma had some great ones too.
Although I love the movie, I suspect it was the chemistry and brilliance of the cast that made it so great.
You confirm what I suspected that the show would stink! Like shit, I wasn't sure, but stink I knew it would. I made a concerted decision not to go see "The Producers," when the show's producers decided to hike up the prices. Even when a friend went in for one of the leads, I couldn't get myself to do it. I had a feeling I wouldn't find any of it funny in the least. I did bother to watch "Curb Your Enthusiasm" when they did "The Producers" episode and found nothing about the numbers they showed appealing (and not just because Larry David was supposed to be the lead). Now with "Young Frankenstein" in the worst theatre on Broadway (It feels like a high school auditorium with bad sightlines to me), and the outrageous price of the tickets there is just no chance I would bother. You've given me the more reason to stay away!
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