The Phantom of the Opera: An Excercise in Patience

All is back to normal in Aus life, though I did forget that leaving for a vacation makes the few weeks following your return the sloowest weeeks everrrr. This last week was no exception and I can't believe we made it to the weekend. No doubt: vacation > working.

But, since that's nothing to blog about - and neither are the 2 light bulbs that we finally just changed, which is very exciting in our tiny lives - I will finish a rant that I began in San Francisco, California on the night of Friday, November the 28th. It was a rant that can be revived just about any time with equal fervor and focus to the original rambling, complaining testimonial. It is about one Phantom of the Opera play, as seen at the Orpheum Theater along with Kane, Mom, and David as valid, competent, and open-minded witnesses.

First let's begin with expectations. Phantom is a musical. I didn't know much else about it as I flippantly bought the tickets. I thought, "I like musicals: Annie, Oliver and even more recently Lion King, and Mamma Mia". I realize that it's called Phantom of the Opera, but I had envisioned a musical about an opera. Not an opera about an opera, though I can hardly fault them for misleading me on that point. I was hoping for what I wanted instead of realizing what was obvious. Fine, it's an opera, what's so bad about that? I have only been to one proper "opera" performance and it was in college; Kane and I went so that he could get some extra credit in a class. It was entirely in a foreign language with no acting out the story, and was hence extremely boring. Encouraged by the sleeping gentleman next to me, we proceeded to leave at intermission.

But surely the famed Phantom wouldn't be like this? Phantom is famous, renowned, revered. It is the longest running Broadway show in history and the most lucrative entertainment enterprise of all time. For over twenty years people have been flocking from all over to see the show as it tours and re-tours the country. The only thing I can figure is that: a) this is the biggest sham of all time; b) my understanding of the general public is so skewed that I overlooked the possibility of something so famous not being to my liking, or, of course; c) people who are not me are idiots. Of course the third is self-righteous and a ridiculous conclusion, but this play has just taught me not to rule anything out anymore, so I'm not. You know how with some carefully chosen things you sometimes just trust the masses and think, "well, if everybody likes it..."? I am unhappy to see that this fleeting logic does not seem to necessarily apply to all items I might want it to. And hence, I was sucked into the phenomenon that is Phantom of the Opera.

I went in open-minded. I like theater. I like leaving the house for a reason. I was excited. The theater itself was very nice, opulent even. Our seats weren't excellent, but no big deal; we could see the stage, couldn't we? The play started out and I just assumed that I liked it. I watched with a smile on my face, integrating myself into the storyline, trying to get a feel for the characters and what was going on. And though through simple gesturing, costumes, and set changes I was able to understand the basic plot of the first half of the play, much of it may as well have been on mute because that's how much of the dialogue I was able to decipher from the onslaught of high-pitched, simultaneous wailing that was occurring in the more eventful scenes.

Opera apparently means that no one talks, they only sing. And it's not like they're singing a song that rhymes and is catchy at tasteful intervals of the play (ah - a musical), it's just like they're singing what they're saying - like a child would do as they roam the playground wrapped up in their own world, immediately before being pummeled by the cooler kids. They sing and sing and sing. The notes go up and down, their voices are loud or quiet. Maybe that's the appeal that I don't understand - the art of the actual singing. Maybe I'm too bombarded by main stream, Britney Spears/Pearl Jam music to appreciate true talent of the voice. Whatever it is, this crap sucked. I could typically understand what they were saying when only one person was singing. But then many people would come on stage and in a flurry of activity and song, they would all blurt out their story or feelings or problems or whatever, and I couldn't tell what the heck was going on. I was accosted by song, unable to decipher what any one person was screeching about, and was ultimately left having to figure out what was going on with other cues, as mentioned before.

Then halftime came. Glorious intermission. My smile had turned to a confused frown. Apparently I wasn't liking the play. Aside from the basic storyline which I could have (and should have) read a synopsis of on the internet, I couldn't follow who was who or what was going on very well. The format, as mentioned, was obnoxious. And though the singing was very good (for that kind of singing) and the actors were well-acted, my overall rating had plummeted excessively since the curtains opened. Did my cohorts feel the same way? Or was mom loving the play and Kane waiting anxiously for the last half? Thank goodness the answer was no. They were as confused and disappointed as I was so far, and we spent intermission making fun of the characters and their stupid songs. Ahhh, these are my people.

The second half resumed and I think it was actually better than the first. Maybe because it was more eventful, maybe because it was not as long, or maybe because my expectations had been brought to a new level; maybe all of the above. The play concluded (I thought it was fairly predictable) and we were released from the Phantom's clutches. David pointed out that if Mr. Phantom had sung "Christine" in his melodic, pathetic way one more time, he (David) may have screamed. In fact, there may have been a half of a row of screamers had that been the case. It was quite exhausting to have all the words of a play sung instead of spoken. And we were all four heartily sick of it by the end. Fortunately, we could retreat into our little home across the bay and complain about the whole endeavor together to ease our pain.

After leaving the play and discussing it with some other people, I found that not everyone likes it. Some people were as bewildered as I was, which makes me wonder how many people actually saw it because they like it or someone they know recommended it and how many people, no doubt like me and my like-minded friends, were duped into seeing it. What percentage of people in 2008 who saw Phantom of the Opera did so simply because it's popular and gets good reviews? How many of those people didn't even like it but instead accidentally contributed to the massive box office numbers that Phantom continues to receive? I am beginning to think that this has morphed into a social phenomenon - if not experiment - that clearly deserves further psychological study.

So that was our Phantom of the Opera experience. If anything, an opportunity to learn and burst my bubble of liking any theater available. Which is fine. Even bad experiences are sometimes nice to look back on, and of course, blog about.