by Mike Bryant They say that the first step on the long road to recovery is acceptance, so here goes: Hello, my name is Mike and I am a musical theatre snob. My musical addiction started at a very young age with Julie Andrews doing her imitation of a prozac-fueled spinning-top on a mountainside. That magic nun started the habit of a lifetime. (Please laugh. My nun puns are funny.) The snobbish side of my addiction started at about sixteen when I saw the film version of The Phantom of the Opera. I remember sitting on the couch, eyebrows raised so high that they virtually disappeared into my (at that point, not receding) hairline. This was the musical everyone raved about? Watching Gerard "The Barking Phantom" Butler cry-singing over a toy monkey showed me my musical snobbery in its full technicolour glory. I recoiled at Phantom. I spat at Joseph and his damned dreamcoat. I imagined writing strongly worded letters to local members of parliament to try and get Grease banned from, well, everywhere. I would have led protest marches against Cats. I began haunting Borders (which was sort of like Whitcoulls if Whitcoulls sold books...) looking for unheard of cast recordings. It became an obsession. I became a musical theatre snob and a musical theatre hipster. "What's your favourite musical?" People would ask. "Oh, I doubt you'd know it," I'd say, my nose firmly planted in the air. "It's a little-known show from the '70s that was only produced once in an abandoned warehouse performed on rusty rickshaws. It closed down fifteen minutes into opening night." "Oh." They'd reply, obviously baffled. "I really like Phantom..." When I was about seventeen, I was on one of my Borders hunts. I was starving for new musicals, bad with money (two traits that have never left me) and had just enough to buy one CD if I decided to forgo lunch. I passed through their selection; nothing was really jumping out at me until I saw it. "Legally Blonde? They made a musical out of Legally Blonde?!"
If there is one thing that is more powerful than my snobbery, it's my desire to hoard. If there is a cast recording of it, I want it. I don't care what the show is, I want that recording! (This explains the multiple copies of Phantom I possess) and so, despite the fact that I found the idea of a Legally Blonde musical ridiculous and despite the fact that I'd already passed it off as "terrible" in my mind, I bought it. When I got home, I put the music onto my MP3 player and went about my tradition for listening to new cast recordings which includes a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of Raro and my favourite spot on the porch step. I sat back to listen, sneer firmly fixed on my face. I listened to the first song and rolled my eyes so hard that I may have sprained a retina. The second song played and I snorted. Halfway through the third song and I was grinning like an idiot and then came "Blood in the Water". This is the song that made me laugh out loud and fall in love with the show. The lyrics were clever and witty and the character of Callahan was played by Michael Rupert (!!!!) who I already loved from his work in the musicals Falsettoland and Elegies. The soundtrack stopped and then I played it again. I had it on repeat for about a month. "Blood in the Water" was added to my daily shower song list and Callahan was added to my list of top ten dream roles I wanted to play (although to someone who then and now considers himself a non-singer, it seemed like a delightfully unattainable dream...) The idea of Legally Blonde the Musical is bizarre and ridiculous and yet it works. The show is fun, funny, clever, catchy, and full of heart. In Legally Blonde, the main character Elle is judged for her appearance. She's seen as dumb, flighty, vapid and slutty despite none of these things being reflected in her character. She is unfairly judged by a majority of the characters and all she needs is to be given a chance. When I first saw the Legally Blonde cast recording, I went into full judgement mode. I thought it would be a stupid show, filled with unoriginal characters, unintelligent lyrics and music that sounds like a Britney Spears song. I gave it a chance, and I was wrong. How's that for a case of life imitating art? I learned that, even when it comes to musical theatre, never judge a book by its cover. Except for Phantom. Always judge Phantom.
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by Sara K. McBride “Look, guys, I’m sorry but I’m going to ask you to move your butts.” It’s Day Two of an intensive tap dancing workshop and there I am, in the back row, trying to hide from eyes of our dance instructor, Saran. I’m not sure why I’m hiding as Saran is warm, welcoming and easy to follow. Saran then asks us to watch her while she moves her bum. Facing a large dance mirror, the Wellington Footlights members all line up, ready to move our butts. On our feet is a selection of black and tan tap shoes. We follow, rhythmically joining in, suppressing giggles and snorts. After all, the dance does work better once our bums are fully engaged. We do the “Single Ladies” dance, doing our best Beyonce. (Tap tap tippity tap tippity tippity tap. Tap.) The dance studio fills with sound of 24 pairs of tap shoes. Amazingly, we tap at the same pace. Our formations are quick and we seem to meld as a company, marching at a constant pace. We’ve mastered the first part of Broadway Tap: synchronicity. Tap isn’t just a dance that happened randomly. The history of tap is still contested by researchers but one thing is clear: it is the story of different groups coming together and learning from one another. According to Dr. Wiki, one theory is that tap is a southern dance, a mixture of dances from the Irish and Scottish who worked closely with African slaves. These groups developed close bonds and shared dances, songs and other cultural references. However, another theory is that tap came from New York City and, similar to the Southern theory, the close proximity immigrants had to each other in the boroughs there inspired the dance. Either way, tap was born and it soon became a staple of travelling minstrel shows, vaudeville, nightclubs and later, films. Bo Jangles, Shirley Temple and Fred Astaire are some of tap’s most famous stars. Tap almost died out in the 1970s and 1980s but has been experiencing a renaissance since the early 1990s and is still a popular dance today. There are two forms of tap: rhythm and Broadway. Rhythm is a free flowing expression, where the moves are not strictly dictated by planned choreography but rather the tap dancer picks their moves on the spot, enjoying the moment. As we move from step to step, we are clearly here to learn Broadway tap, as the moves are choreographed and we are meant to move as a company. But during our breaks, members of the company step up on the dance floor and improvise. After a sweaty first hour of tap, we shift gear unexpectedly to learn the Charleston. I’ve always been a bit enamoured with the Charleston; a dance that had its heyday in the roaring 1920s. Clearly, Saran feels the same way; her grin widens as she moves more freely to the music. The Charleston can be described as spastically moving your body in rhythm, with flailing jazz hands and legs akimbo. To do it well looks amazing, doing it poorly makes you look like you are out to injure someone. Like tap, the Charleston’s history started in the U.S., with its origins in the Roaring 1920s. It came from a musical, “Running Wild”, in 1923 and was quickly adopted into the night clubs. Its popularity coincided with a change in women’s clothing; the 1920s meant short skirts and sleeveless dresses. So the Charleston was a celebration dance of women who had free knees and elbows…and who could actually breathe without stays from corsets digging into their waists. And they would certainly need to breathe, as the Charleston is quite the workout! After learning the steps to the Charleston, I can tell it is much more aerobic than tap; there are jumps and quick steps galore. As I watch from my comfy back corner, I watch the company members dance with a proficiency range from amazingly graceful to spastic sprinklers. But the Charleston is undeniably fun and Saran helps us along, smiling, laughing and encouraging us to be as silly as possible. After all, the Charleston is the dance of freedom and high times. A few company members rest on the floor when the Charleston is all over. I’m huffy and puffy myself. I’m a new member to the company and, I have to say, there is something bonding about dancing silly with a bunch of people you are just getting to know. When the class is over, I feel disappointed. After I catch my breath, I realise I want to dance again, which is a probably a good thing... because Taking the Millennium will have Tap AND Charleston. The Wellington Footlights would like to thank Saran and Full Swing Vintage Dance Company for all their help. We highly recommend Full Swing's classes - visit http://fullswing.co.nz/ for more information.
After every show we gather the membership together and ask for their favourite moments from the production. Here, we share our memories of the things we loved most about working on RENT. “The best moments of RENT for me were when the audience, whether it was the production team in rehearsal or the some 130 people seated in Whitireia, and cast were completely emotionally engaged during an ensemble number. That magical connection within the cast and between cast and audience is almost transcendent. For me, those spine-tingling moments are the epitome of what musical theatre is about. That, and getting a good laugh.” - Ellie Stewart "This was my first time being involved in big stage production and I learnt so much about how all the hard work in rehearsals ends up on the stage. I loved listening to the singers in the rehearsals - you guys are amazing! Big thanks to Bruno and Wellington Footlights for this awesome opportunity!" - Samantha Burnard “One of my favourite parts of the rehearsal process was distracting people with ridiculous faces when things were getting a bit tiring or intense, to lighten the mood and get a smile out of people (see exhibit A, above). And during performance week, I had a great laugh in the wings each night with Tess and other cast members, dancing and miming ridiculously to numbers like Tango Maureen and La Vie Boheme!” - Edward Abrahamson "In every good show you have a few moments onstage as a performer where you feel absolutely connected to your scene partner, to the material, to the room around you; it's exhilarating, and intense and one of the things that is so addictive about theatre. In Rent, there were two that hit every night - in WithoutYou there was a moment when I'm climbing the stairs while Roger (Dave) is singing, and I see him for the first time since we broke up. And in Goodbye Love A, the moment when Collins (Michael) and I look right at each other and sing "I can't believe this is goodbye." Both these moments always made my heart leap up into my throat." - Cassandra Tse “It's difficult to pin down my favourite part of Rent, it was such an intense and incredible process. I think the moment that stands out the most to me was when we came together onstage for the finale - I've never felt such a strong feeling of mutual support and love from a cast before. There was such unity emotion and expression, it was a beautiful thing to be part of. From the rehearsal process, I think I'd be torn between the rehearsal where we blocked Seasons of Love B / Cover You Reprise and the rehearsal where we blocked Finale A / B / Your Eyes. For me the first was a huge focal point for the character and it was amazing to feel the emotions in the room and be able to tap into them, while the latter was the first time we ran multiple things together and felt like we actually had a show. The latter also was a great sequence for bringing the leads together which again enhanced the sense of unity.” - Michael Stebbings “I don't think I could specify one moment to write about but I'd like to summarise my RENT experience with one word… support. Coming into the society as a newbie I was super nervous - I found out I was singing solos (one of them being a solo comprised of 2 words repeated over and over again) and working with an incredibly talented group of people was daunting! But everybody within the cast and the creative team were so supportive. They showed support towards me, towards other cast members and the environment that was generated from that one aforementioned word made the whole process of RENT, from start to finish, an experience that I will long remember! PS - Honest living, man!” - Ed Blunden “I loved being part of RENT- bringing the show to life with such a truly wonderful group of people was a really special experience, and I am so, so glad to have joined Footlights! I already miss having regularly scheduled hugs from Mike Bryant during show week- they definitely helped me get through the performances. Plus, I'm a hug addict, and they were going free…” - David Young
by Mike Bryant Rent is considered by many to be a flawed musical. No, wait, don’t close this tab yet! I’ll try and explain myself. The word “flawed” has many negative connotations for good reasons. Flawed tends to denote poor scripts, clunky lyrics, and little to no character development, but calling a musical flawed doesn’t necessarily mean the show as a whole doesn’t work. Rent has been criticised for its excessive amounts of cheese (“I saw a warm, white light…”), its occasionally awkward lyrics (“Your eyes, as we say our goodbyes…”) and its angsty tone (If Roger had been born a little later, he could have had a brilliant career as My Chemical Romance’s frontman) and yet, despite all of these flaws, it remains one of the most touching musical theatre pieces in the history of Broadway. Rent stays firmly lodged in the minds of theatregoers the world over. I think this is because the worries, fears, fights, plights, wants and needs haven’t changed all that much in the almost twenty years since its Broadway debut in 1996. We all live with fear. Fear of poverty, fear of the death of pets, family, friends or lovers. Fear of wasting what precious little time we have on this earth. Rent, while acknowledging the fear inherent in every human life, teaches us not to let that fear rule us. The fear and uncertainty are parts of us, but not the whole and, if we are to get the most out of life, we need to accept it, move on, and teach that fear to get the hell out of our way. Rent says that even in poverty, we can find joy. People will die, but what defines them is how they lived and how they made us feel. Rent reminds us that even in the darkest of times, there is light and often that light comes from family and friends (who, after all, are just the family that we choose.) Finally, one of the reasons that I think Rent has such staying power is because of that old R word. Representation. In our increasingly PC age, the word representation gets thrown around a lot to the point where it has almost reached a type of self-conscious arrogance, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t vital. I was lucky enough to be born in 1991, and by the time I was discovering my sense of self and coming to terms with my sexuality, it was the mid 2000s. I was extremely fortunate to come out as gay in an age where such things were, while admittedly not perfect, at least open topics of discussion and not viewed with the scorn, disgust and derision they had been for so long. I discovered Rent in 2007. I was sixteen and had just come out to the world. I was living in a small town and was the only openly queer person at my high school and I didn’t know any other queer people at all. I saw Rent, and saw people like me. I recognised myself in Collins, Joanne, Maureen and more importantly, in Angel. Angel’s life wasn’t easy and yet she was brave, confident and knew exactly who she was. She dressed how she wanted to dress and loved who she wanted to love. She showed me that having a gender identity or sexuality that was different from the social “norm” (whatever the hell that means) was not a sentence to a lifetime of misery. To a young gay and wannabe drag queen, this was a revelation. Rent taught me all this, and I’m positive I’m not the only one. Seeing people like you onstage or onscreen can give you hope for the future and it can dispel that feeling of utter loneliness and fear.
If a “flawed” musical can teach us so many things, and comfort so many in need, then I wish more flaws upon humanity. Clearly the flaws accomplish more than perfection. No Day But Today. RENT reviewed by Maryanne Cathro
Originally posted on Theatreview Rent – they can't pay it and they won't pay it. Rent is a story based loosely on Puccini's La Bohème, about a group of friends surviving poverty, AIDS and gentrification in New York's Lower East Side in the early 1990s. These are the Bohemians of the end of the Millennium; making art and making love while property developers try to take away their spaces and AIDS robs them of their future. It is so great to finally have this piece of iconic American musical theatre here in Wellington, directed by Ben Emerson with music director Bruno Shirley and choreographer Esther Welsh. First shown in 1994, it opened on Broadway in 1996 and ran for 12 years. Jonathan Larson wrote Rent based on his own experiences of life in the Lower East Side; unfortunately he died the day before the show opened and never saw what a success it would become. The Wellington Footlights Society is a cooperative of talented young performers, putting on the shows they want to do and we rarely get to see. Rent is a great vehicle for their talents. The stage at the Whitereia Performing Arts School on Vivian St has the space and height to carry it off. It is also, unfortunately, a difficult space acoustically, with the audience spread widely across the front. Excellent vocals are often hard to hear over the band and important information about the plot is lost in the process. I fervently hope this imbalance will be fixed before the season goes any further, as unamplified voices and an amplified rock band do not sit well together. Therefore it is not surprising that the musical highlights are the belting numbers and the ensemble singing. My favourite number is the soulful vocal showdown, ‘Take Me or Leave Me' with Stacey O'Brien as Maureen and Laura Gardner as Joanne. Aretha and Ella would have been proud! One of many beautiful ensemble moments is the opening number of Act Two – ‘Seasons of Love'. How do you describe a year? 525,600 minutes? As I look down the line of performers singing their hearts out, every face, every body is giving it their all. Likewise the street-savvy, cynical Homeless chorus with their twisted Christmas carols are delightful, convincing, physical and funny. Do they nail it? Yes they do. It is a big, complex, emotional musical in the best tradition of modern American theatre; lots of big feelings are sung out: echoes of that operatic heritage. They capture the light and the shade of the show – get the laughs where there ought to be laughs and cause a few damp eyes in the right moments too. All in all this is the kind of work Footlights are becoming known for: a fusion of excellent ensemble work, energy, enthusiasm and talent. |