thediastema's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Season in Review Master, I proudly present PTC's 2000-2001 Season: THE PLAY BY PLAY! Yeah. Don't you love when you can put words in funhouses like that? In honour of the fall of Camelot last night, I'm recapping the season. You did, after all, only meet me halfway through it. ~~ AUGUST, 2000 I get phone calls from Chelsea, whom nobody yet knows will be a misguided closet case and part-time stalker, and Sup, whom I only just barely remember from the season before. I'm asked to sign up for the schedule of the first show. I'm invited to a company barbeque. I accept. I bring the veggie tray. I see a lanky guy with glasses there whom I don't recognise because he's from Box Office, and they've been outside in a trailer for theatre reconstruction since before I was hired. (That's right. They weren't always Cage People. For a time, they were Trailer Trash.) I'm taken with him, but shake it off, figuring he's probably a loudmouth frat boy. Nobody eats my veggies. I meet Cindy at the barbeque and she bores me to tears. Of course, first impressions aren't always accurate. THE MYSTERY OF EDWIN DROOD I love this musical. I did it in high school. I was Helena Landless. I have all my old numbers memorised, still. I have other people's numbers memorised. I stand out in the corridor and lip-synch along with the score on my breaks. HM finds this hilarious. KING LEAR Autumn has arrived. Cindy and I are starting to get good at small talk: theatre, school, social politics, and ways to discipline latecomers (pillories are a really great idea, we think) are discussed. We learn we're both absurd, quirky, absurky girls. We are also young and like working there, and soon Gimp is disgusted with us both. I attend on Halloween and there is no applause after Act I. JOYFUL NOISE A lot of people walk out because they're disgusted that the heroine of the play, Handel's soprano protegee Susannah Cibber, had an extramarital affair. I fall asleep in my front-row Loge Balcony seat because I'm working two jobs and I would prefer to just hibernate. Barbara McCullough shines as Kitty Clive, though. ART Contains strong language. I attend on 4 January, my birthday, with the family, all of whom keep nodding off during the show. When I return home, Neighbour and a friend of his have decorated my room with bright metallic shape confetti that lingers in my bed linens and sticks to my skin, leaving little pink stars all over my butt. Improvisational xylophone jazz throughout. Seriously. LAUGHING STOCK Written by our own artistic director. Runs up until the day of my ATP audition. One or both will bomb. PRESENT LAUGHTER The immediate proximity of two laughter-related titles confuses the hell out of the local news media and screws up a handful of reviews. Noel Coward turns over in his grave. CAMELOT Is ordinary and cutesy and sells better than all of the other plays. By the end of the show the actors playing Arthur and Guenevere are romantically involved, and I find myself vowing to drive off a cliff if I'm ever abused with the strains of "Never Would I Leave You" again. O, Utahnada. I'm hearing nonfootsteps everywhere I go. They're hard to get away from 'cos they don't exist. ~ETK 04:39 - 27 May, 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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