Sunday, August 10, 2008

I was faced with a dilemma

tonight at Barnsdall Art Park, as JW and I had gone to see Independent Shakespeare Company's production of Marlowe's Dr. Faustus. I've seen all three of their shows now and they're all lovely. Faustus is definitely not the best play in their season, but it's certainly the most interesting evening of theater they're offering this summer, but never mind.

The dilemma I faced was found in the trio of audience members sitting directly behind us who had thought they were attending a production of Twelfth Night. When the boyfriend part of the trio discovered they weren't seeing a "tragical history" rather than a "comedy," he mentioned that he was in a "ha ha ha" mood and not an "oh ho ho" mood, and wondered if maybe they weren't better off going to a movie instead. The girlfriend really wanted to stay, and the male friend of the couple saw his opportunity and started pushing for Hellboy II.

Now, the theater enthusiast in me felt compelled to turn and say, "If it means anything, it should be pretty funny. The reviews have all pointed out how it accentuates the comedy and it's also only about 90 minutes." I should be encouraging people to support the theater, right? Right.

Except these people were really annoying. Their conversation about how to proceed went on for a good 10 minutes, with the friend gunning for the movie, the boyfriend obviously really wanting to be one of the guys but not wanting to piss off his girlfriend, and the girlfriend obviously wanting to stay but feeling bullied by the men and torn between standing her ground and being a good sport. I really felt for her, since deep down I knew it was probably all she could do to get them to drag their asses there in the first place and now she's gotta fight with these two alphas pretending they weren't trying to steamroll her into the action movie they obviously would rather see. But if I was going to have to listen to them much longer and all the whiny passive-aggressive attempts at persuasion, I was going to call up Mephistopheles myself to take care of things. I knew I should've tried to talk them into sticking around, but I just couldn't. They finally left, ditching Faustus for Hellboy, and JW and I both breathed a sigh of relief.

And then they were replaced by the college freshmen debating the true nature of tragedy and justice. Serves me right.

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