>While I am used to growing impatient with plays, movies, and operas halfway through, I think I only left a movie twice: Madness of King George and Shakespeare in Love. (Hmm, is there a pattern?) But I was shocked when Richard, who feels a moral obligation to finish every book he opens, eagerly agreed to go home last night at the intermission of ART’s production of Cabaret.
We might have soldiered on had it not been a school night, but, man, it was grueling. The performances were fine (headlined by Amanda Palmer as Emcee) but the production heavily underlined anything it could to evoke . . . something but I’m not sure what. The decadence (black underwear, Palmer in an uncovered breast-binder and a cock in her pants) made me think of what Cliff, the Christopher Isherwood character, says to Sally Bowles: “Are you trying to shock me?” And the Kit Kat dancers as soulless zombies walking through the audience toward a glaring light reminded me of a production I once saw of
Weill’s Mahagonny[no, it was Parsifal] where the director had all the characters line up to drink poisoned Kool-Aid. In Auschwitz.
But still–to miss the second act. I fear I have offended the critical gods and will somehow be punished for this.