Pen-Elayne on the Web

Sushi and Vampires

Yesterday was our 4th wedding anniversary (and by the way, if you're in a romantic mood as I obviously am you owe it to yourself to check out this entry in Wil Wheaton's blog), so to celebrate I informed my boss (with few regrets considering I worked an 11½-hour day on my birthday Monday and a 9½-hour day on Tuesday) that I'd be leaving regular time (after "only" 9 straight hours) so Robin and I could go to dinner and a show. Because, after all, nothing says "anniversary" like raw fish and bloodsuckers.

Rob picked me up at work, resplendent in his long black levva coat ("levva" being, of course, the Scruffy-Boy-from-Souf-o'-London pronunciation of "leather"); I wore my blood-red velvety turtleneck. I'm pleased to report that the 46th Street location of Monster Sushi is every bit as good as the one in Chelsea, if not better because the place was fairly empty at 6 PM and we got really speedy service as a result (and got to sit across from the sushi bar so I could watch the magic). Afterwards we considered strolling up to Rockefeller Center for like a millisecond (it was tree-lighting time) but opted for the brief stroll to the Minskoff instead, to scope out the area a bit before the theatre opened for the 8 PM showing of Dance of the Vampires.

I hadn't been in the Times Square area at night in a few years (I usually catch the subway at 40th Street on days when I go to Midtown Comics) so it came as a bit of a surprise to me how bright it's gotten. Okay, there's always been neon in the area, but not in such intense concentration so as to make it feel almost like daylight. Eerie, but pretty. The Minskoff itself is quite lovely, cozy (less than 1700 seats, just a tad uncomfortable on the hips but not that bad) but well-appointed, and the alleyway between the theatre entrance and the stage door (which straddles 44th and 45th Streets) was covered so it cut down nicely on the cold wind. The theatre is now apparently brought to all by Mercedes-Benz. Did you know that it takes about 2-3 weeks to ship the cars from Germany to Mercedes' Vehicle Processing Center in Baltimore, after which-- oops, sorry, in "work mode" again. [This is the sort of thing that floats around in my head nowadays, leaving no room for memories of fictional plots and the like.]

But that's not what you care about. The play's the thing, eh? Now bear in mind they're still officially in "previews," as the director has had to care for his ailing mum (who passed away last Sunday), so things are always being tweaked here and there. For instance, Peter and Kath David went to an showing in October and it's entirely possible they saw lots of different stuff than we did, and vice versa. We know for a fact that many details in the final scene were added just two weeks ago, for instance. (How we know this will be explained shortly.) Also bear in mind that the main reason we got tickets for this baby was that we're big fans of Jim Steinman, who did the music and lyrics for all the songs in addition to co-writing the book. So we knew what to expect, and we got it, and overall we were pretty darn happy with it. It was quite funny and winning and Wagnerian (and even Gilbert & Sullivanish in one song) and, well, Steinmanesque, and I only winced once, during "When Love Is Inside You" - a song that, for me, never managed to rise above the level of embarrassing gay-themed double entendres. I expect better of Steinman than a clunky line about a banana peeling. But Michael Crawford was the presence you'd expect him to be, and considering that it was his second show of the day (and that Steinman's music is hella demanding on just about anyone) his voice was remarkably strong during Act I, particularly --SLIGHT SPOILER-- when he holds a note for about three minutes at the end of "Come With Me," the last song in that act. And the cast, especially the energetic ensemble, was in fine form; it exhausted me just looking at them bound around! Although I must confess, I really don't like the current trend of everyone being electronically mic'ed. Why, in my day, son, performers were expected to project their voices (uphill both ways!) without aid of microphones, and I think hearing the sounds coming from their mouths rather than from speakers added to the essential theatre experience of direct communication between performer and audience.

But I'm old, and tonight (well, last night) is what it meant to be young. Yes, auto-cannibalization out the wazoo, not a surprise considering Steinman threw the songs together for the original Vienna production in something like a month and a half. I thought most of the reprises worked, but Robin felt the earlier MP3 snippets we've heard worked better than some of Steinman's rewrites, particularly on "Total Eclipse of the Heart." It's tough, that's such a well-known song (confirmed by the nervous jaded-by-Moulin Rouge audience titters signifying, "hey wait, why are they using this pop tune in this musical?" - um, because Steinman wrote that pop tune?) that the "real" lyrics tend to stick in your mind when listening to the redo, but I didn't really have a problem with it. The funniest moment for me was the last scene. --BIG OL' SPOILER-- It took place in present day, and the ensemble all wore--yes--long black levva coats.

Thanks to David Gabriel from the NYC Comic Book Museum, we got to meet cast member David Benoit afterwards, who showed us around backstage. It was pretty amazing, this was the first time either of us had ever been on a Broadway stage and in the wings & such, and we got to walk around where they'd just been singing and dancing moments before, see all the cool techie stuff involving the elaborate sets, etc. David also gave us details on what had just been added, such as the finishing touches in the last scene, and of course we got our requisite Steinman gossip. Seems he's really nice but "eccentric." Reminded me of what Glinda told Dorothy about the Wizard: "Very good, but very mysterious." For instance, he's worn the exact same outfit to every single rehearsal/performance (the bit I remembered most was David detailing the "Converse sneakers held together by gaffer tape"), so David figured he probably had a closet full of identical outfits, kinda like a superhero has dozens of copies of the same costume. Heh, I live for this stuff. :)

Home at midnight, and I'm exhausted and bleary-eyed and berated by boss & wife again this morning, but at least they can't take last night away from me.