COLUMN: Singing in life’s little musicals
Last night, I sat in a dark theater surrounded by a grundle of Utah arts supporters while I watched “Les Misérables” for the 10th time.
That is right, 10th.
Some of my friends feel this is a little excessive, but I really don’t see where they are coming from. After all it is a classic in every possible way. Just ask Mr. Hugo, I am sure he would agree with my assessment.
As I sat through the intermission, I got to thinking. My life is really one giant stage show just waiting to happen. And by damn, I am going to win a Tony.
Think of it this way, every day I am presented with enough dramatic tension to populate about 12 musicals. How can so much conflict go to waste?
There are certain elements present in almost every musical or play. The list includes spontaneous musical moments, dance breaks, exaggerated energy and the oh-so-subtle, overly-dramatic reactions to every situation.
Granted, plays generally have a more natural feel to them because some random cowboy doesn’t break into song about his state just because he thinks it is a good idea. No nurse is going to run to the showers and wash her hair while talking about her troubles with men. And no young girl in love is going to choose to go into the sewers with a masked man in hopes that he will
find humanity.
But I am digressing. I am supposed to be talking about the musical that is my life.
Let’s start with the exaggerated energy levels. In the movie Bring it On, this is summed up best with the spirit fingers.
Those golden babies are the best part of a musical presentation. Without them, the audience will never know the performer is excited about the topic they are singing about, a true travesty at best.
In everyday life, I think I keep a constant spirit fingered stance just to emphasize the moment. If I didn’t, I would not be a true performer.
Now the spontaneous moments of music. These have to be the best. A couple of years ago, I was in Salt Lake City with a group of friends. I saw the perfect musical moment just waiting to happen.
Looming before me was a landscaped planter box that called me to action. I ran toward it with abandon and as I jumped over it I reached into the air and sang at the top of my lungs the theme song from Fame. It was the perfect moment.
Well, almost perfect.
On the other side of the box, the drop was several feet lower than I had anticipated. It was bad. Very bad.
Another moment happens much more frequently, like the bad Rodgers and Hammerstein reprises that seem to pop up over and over during the show.
When I am listening to the Moulin Rouge soundtrack there are certain musical moments that require I stand on my chair and spin. If missed, these would be wasted musical moments. I would never be able to live with myself.
Besides, who can honestly say they have never skipped down the street singing either the theme song from the Monkeys or “We’re Off to See the Wizard?” Puhleeese.
But with all of the fun, every good musical needs a tender section. I call these the Hallmark moments.
I tend to have a lot of these. I have decided I am the most tender person I know. I tear up far too easily. Awards shows, sitcoms, concerts, commercials and MTV’s The Real World – it really doesn’t take much.
See, true emotion. This is a very real and necessary element. I have it in spades.
So I say raise the curtain, strike up the band and let’s get on with the show.
You can also get the official soundtrack later this summer when it hits stores.
Justin Berry is a features editor for the Utah Statesman. Comments can be sent to justinsb26@yahoo.com