Went to see a dreadful new play last night. I won't be so cruel as to name it.
Within the first two minutes on stage, the first two characters to appear had probably each uttered the word "remember" at least twice. At this point, Drew and I looked at each other and realized we were in for a long ride in the passenger seat of a vehicle being driven by someone not in command of his or her craft.
It would have been OK, I suppose, if this had been the worst offense of the evening. Add to that four characters meandering through exposition and political and social discourse without an ounce of dramatic tension and you have a recipe for one sleepy evening at the theatre. Oh well... The set was nice. And I could almost make out the titles of the bound volumes on the gorgeous bookcase, which gave me something to do for Act I.
Act II was spent in the warm comfort of my living room watching an old episode of Friends, which, frankly, had quite a bit more to chew on. And that, my friends, is what was so surprising and disheartening about the play. That it was less compelling than the most mainstream television sitcom.
In fact, I had to wonder whether this writer was educated in front of the TV. Watching daytime drama and taking notes. Or worse... maybe Reality TV. Hey, there's a topic for a future blog post. What do you suppose will be the long-term impact of Reality TV on new works for the stage? Hm...
*Interesting footnote. After posting this, I had a gnawing worry that led me to grab a copy of my latest play. Sure enough, on the second-to-last page of the thing, one of the main characters says "Remember that time..." Clearly, Rolando still has some work to do! :)
