A play unexpectedly about Jesus.

The truth is, I would have gone to see Whistle Down the Wind, even if I HAD been told that it was a play about a girl who thinks the bad guy hiding out in her barn is Jesus.

But after reading the 5th Avenue Theatre's description of the play:

Direct from London, discover what critics have proclaimed "Andrew Lloyd Webber's best show since Phantom of the Opera." Whistle Down the Wind is an uplifting musical about a young Louisiana girl who finds a mysterious stranger and hides him from the townspeople, who are determined to find the escaped felon. The US premiere production partners renowned rock lyricist Jim Steinman (Meatloaf's classic album Bat Out of Hell) and Andrew Lloyd Webber (Cats, Evita and Joseph...) to create a score inspired by the sounds of the American South – blues, gospel, country and rock 'n' roll. Directed and produced by Bill Kenwright, Whistle Down the Wind features award-winning songs including the Boyzone smash hit "No Matter What."

That is not what I imagined.

Now, most Christians may see that "mysterious stranger" and "uplifting" are code for "a story about Jesus". I personally didn't see it coming. In fact, a month ago, I read a description out loud to my seatmate, and tripped. I said "a young girl finds a man hiding in her brain" instead of "barn". In the end, given the nature of projection, my interpretation was completely founded. Nearly every third line includes the name "Jesus". (It's in Louisiana in the 50's... They pray a lot.) There's even snake-handlers. My friend and I assumed that the religious bent wasn't mentioned because of Seattle's aggressively secular attitude, and that the show was marketed differently somewhere else. We believed that the 5th Ave believed we had to be tricked into coming. But I checked, and the show never mentions the whole Christ thing. (Also, the Andrew Lloyd Webber website wanted to know if I was Male or Female and told me that 60% of the visitors to the page are female. Wierd.)

So, basically I watched this play (which was funny and sweet and dramatic) and the fifteen year old inside me watched it, too. The fifteen year old cried, I'm pretty sure, but the tears never quite made it to the surface. She's totally inviting her friends from CYO to come next time. And EVEN though she's always hated Andrew Lloyd Webber, she will totally belt out all the words of every song when her friends play it in the car.

I, on the other hand, laughed at the choreography (Bad) and all the tenor parts (Pretty but weird) and felt uncomfortable with the main character's "loving Jesus" vs "LOVE-ing Jesus" eternal Mary Magdelene problem. (The fifteen year old had her own reasons for feeling uncomfortable about this.)

On the Andrew Lloyd Webber Yuck Front:
Nobody whistles in the whole damn play
"A kiss is a terrible thing to waste." was funny the first time. Then it became a refrain. Likewise "The night that kids ruled the world."
Southern kids with southern accents: adorable. Pacific Northwest kids with "southern" accents: unintelligible and occasionally painful.

However, I am always a sucker for spectacle and stories about "America" and being in a large group of people in the dark, staring. SO, I loved it.

No, like, for real

Some of you will know that I got a subscription this year to the 5th Ave theatre. (RI folks, think PPAC). Generally thinking I'm more of a late-night, fringe, bring yer beer into the black box, wacky trashy pay-what-you-can kind of theater goer, BUT my pal Paula and I both like musicals. (Only I'm generally too embarrassed to tell other people that because I'm tuff.)

We got the subscription with another friend because they were showing "Company" (Sondheim show about sex and marriage, also the theme music for my early childhood. yeah.) and "White Christmas" (I cried, and loved the fake snow, and sang along at the end louder than anyone else in the nosebleeds because in the dark, noone can see you're tuff.) and "West Side Story" (c'mon!)

We also got "Buddy; The Buddy Holly Story" and, fatefully, "Edward Scissorhands". (We actually signed up for something else even more unlikely, but "Buddy..." replaced what the original season included. Imagine, like "Woody; The Woody Allen Story" or something.)

Last night was Edward Scissorhands. It was something else. I'll jump to the end of the night, which took place in the corporate video establishment (which I always avoid) because it was too late for my local joint and I couldn't wait.

Kendra: Hi. I can't find Edward Scissorhands, will you help me?
Short Dorky Blonde Video Guy: Did you look in drama?
Kendra: Yeah. I found Eddie and The Cruisers.
SDBVG: Here it is. (In comedy)
K: fifty fifty shot I guess.

at the counter:
SDBVG: Hey, did you know that there's, like, a ballet version of that right now?
K: Yep. That's why I'm here. I just saw it.
SDBVG: I heard it was great. What did you think?
K: I'm not sure. I was expecting a musical, and brought my blind friend, so I spent the whole time whispering narration, so I couldn't really get into it. Maybe it was really good.
SDBVG: Oh. (BLIND. GOSH. YUCK. WHAT DO I SAY?) My friends said it was really good.
K: The set was cool.
SDBVG: (THANK GOD!) Yeah. They said the the sets were amazing. They saw the London cast, which is pretty much the same thing.

That's right friends. I narrated the ballet version of Edward Scissorhands in my quietest indoor voice from the nosebleeds.
"Now that slutty lady brings the salesman into her house... whoops, he's out again. I think he might be golfing with her husband now."
"The cheerleader loves Edward... the other teenagers are doing a peer pressure dance now. Oh. She leaves him".

There was a dream sequence (I'm not big on ballet that isn't the nutcracker... is that like some ballet trope of some kind?) where Edward has hands and all the other folks are topiaries. It was probably awesome, but it turns out that all of my cynicism lives in my left brain right next to my words, but my right brain has all my Dream-dancing-appretiation.
Fucked up. A joke, even. Sheesh.

If "West Side Story" is, like, a One-Womyn performance piece, I'm staying home.

Oh. Ps. Not one smoke in four months. Word.