beulahbondo's Diaryland Diary
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Even ze orrrchestra is beautiful
Last night I attended a production of "Cabaret" by the Harvard-Radcliffe Dramatic Club. (For those of you who don't know, job #3 is working with undergrads in the arts at the World's Greatest University.)
It was a typically intelligent, competent Harvard production. Great dancers and band. But it was all so healthy-looking, even with the sexed-up dancing. The master of ceremonies, though he was grinny and lithe and looked like he'd enjoy a good round of drunken sodomy, had these extremely wet, shiny white teeth and smooth skin and his makeup was pretty, not horrifying. After he graduates, he'll dance in a couple of Gap ads, then settle down as a member of the ruling class. Sally Bowles substituted perky eye-rolling for divine decadence or desperate, dizzy joie de sexe.
Kids, Liza Minnelli wasn't always the brain-zapped, married-to-a-not-gay- plastic-gay-man wreck you've seen by Michael Jackson's side. (I don't know where to stick those hyphens.) She used to be an amazing, charismatic, overwhelming performer.
"Cabaret" has followed me around all my life. My parents took me to see the movie for my thirteenth birthday (sexy!) and family friends took me to the "Liza with a Z" concert around the same time. Last summer in Provincetown, I sang the entire show as I paddled in a tidal pool with two musical theater queens I had just met. Etc.
So this show, while it had its surface charms, didn't quite cut it. For one thing, the perky gal sang the title song planted downstage at a fake microphone, wearing a satin evening gown with her long hair brushed out all nice and fluffy. NO! And she sang it like she was at a Sunday recital. NO! This is the turning point, when Sally Bowles decides to have an abortion, stay in Berlin, and be a second-rate star. She LOVES a cabaret. She made her mind up back in Chelsea: When she goes..she's going...like...El-sie. BAM!
So I was not Bowled over.
But check this out: A couple brought their tiny, maybe five-year-old son! I watched his face during the "deedle ee dee deeee, two ladies" number: completely deadpan. On the other hand, when I was 13, the part of the movie that made the biggest impression on me was the "Screw Max"/"I have"/"So have I" exchange between Liza and Michael York. I don't think I got the rest of the sexual innuendo.
In other news: There's really no other news. Tonight I'm going to have dinner, drink, play Scrabble, and spend the night with That Hamilton Woman and her debonair husband (deedlee ee dee deee). Tomorrow I'll take the train back to Boston with Nancy Drew. We're going to wear hats.
2:52 p.m. - 2002-11-22
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