THEATER REVIEW- Arcadia

In line to at the Bedlam Theatre to see “Arcadia,” admiring with a weary air the chatter of literally European intellectuals, I admitted to no one that I had not read Tom Stoppard’s play. In fact, I had not even heard of this British playwright. I slid into my hat, and tried to think of how to best look inconspicuous. “This one!” I was already planning on answering, if anyone had the frustrating friendliness to ask me about my favorite Stoppard production.

It turns out however, that I had long been a fan of Tom Stoppard. My reputation of being at least minimally pop-cultured was redeemed by Wikipedia, my faithful friend. Stoppard, as the more attentive types will have already recognized, has written over 24 plays, among them “Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead” and the screenplay for “Shakespeare in Love.”

I loved the show. It was Victorian, and modern, and slid between the two time periods with the satisfaction of fitting together a particularly difficult puzzle. The dialogue was exquisitely heady, erudite, over-the-top and instead of damning the playwright, left me wanting to comb the script with a dictionary (in public, so as to further nurture my vanity---though perhaps a dictionary would give the wrong impression, albeit the correct one). It reminded me of Pride and Prejudice, Proof, If These Walls Could Talk and the previews for What the Bleep Do We Know? I left the theater with admiration and thrill in my heart, I wish I had not seen it alone, so that I could turn to them and just grin. There was kissing, and romance, and clever condensations of the cosmos into pithy threads weaving the characters into a neat continuous “it’s all been done for the first time before” equation.

I wish I had not given out four star reviews, so that I could give it out once more. This production is definitely a worthy main stage production, an easy favorite, if not necessarily typical fringe.


* For the sake of accuracy and truth in reporting: Stoppard co-wrote "Shakespeare in Love" with Marc Norman.

** Also in literature, Arcadia (a Greek City) is often referenced as the ideal countryside, where the simplicity of the pastoral life reigns supreme. In this play, it references the Victorian manor before the hired gardener seeks to modernize the place by creating rustic ruins in the place of the classic order; of course this occurs in parallel to the death of the enlightenment and probably insinuates a lot of other things that should be discussed over cappuccinos.

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Oh the Places You Sit

It is always a good idea to be aware of one’s environment:

Democrats should be able to instinctively bite their tongues when they land among the rich, Bush fans would do well to hide their “support the troops” tattoos in VA hospital, and abortion-clinic bombers might want to wash blood off their hands before reaching for the holy Eucharist every Sunday…

With that in mind, people who play footsie in restaurants (or even worse, start in with their hands) should probably request a window not directly next to the large floor length window overlooking a busy cross street.

I looked away from their sly no-one-knows-what-we’re doing expressions, for modesty’s sake, but would venture to guess that the rowdy couple did not stay for dessert.

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THEATER REVIEW- The Improverts

The Improverts were a rowdy band delivering typical audience-inspired improvisational comedy that can be found as mainstays in local comedy clubs across either the US or the UK. They played games a la “Whose line is it anyway?” including favorites like murder, news anchor, and story telling. For some reason I had assumed that the name was suggestive of a more perverted act and was disappointed by the relatively obvious broad-stroked humor. Overall, it was a good crowd, energetic, rave-like music and lights, and a general party atmosphere in what was a sold-out show.

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Things I should have brought to Scotland

Galoshes:

Have I mentioned already that this is a rainy country? Everyone knows that Scotland was built precisely beneath one of the most active rain clouds in the world. I’m surprised that they don’t call it the “rainforest.”

A Crew:

This might, like a hitchhiker’s towel, be a good rule of thumb to bring everywhere you go, not just Edinburgh. It seems that almost everyone here is in a show, and thus in a cast, and thus in a crew. I'm jealous.

Firstly it shows everyone that you have friends, which in turn makes everyone want to be your friend, since you so obviously have great qualities that others find desirable, then why shouldn’t they?

Incidentally it is this very deduction that makes married men and women more attractive than the single ones. Many studies have shown that the type of individual who actually pursues an Already Coupled Person (ACP), tends to be less confident than their peers and in constant need of having their opinion on everything, including romance, confirmed. These types are also very prone to experience early hair loss, expose themselves to their neighbors (“Does it look alright? Are you sure?”), buy pre-furbished homes and death by nihilism.

Earplugs:

I might be going slowly insane, but I swear I can hear the sweet tones of the bagpipe almost everywhere I go; it is downright haunting. I wouldn’t be so paranoid if it didn’t appear that no one else is bothered by it—in fact, there is no sign that they’ve even heard anything. Perhaps, like a bird’s immunity to Asian Bird Flue, Scottish Bagpipe Demons do not haunt natives.

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Overheard in Edinburgh

Two men at a bar, watching women primp in a corner mirror.

Man 1: What kind of women do you think take the longest time with the glass?

Man 2: The prettiest, they love looking at themselves nearly as much as we do.

Man 1: Ay, or the ugliest... for they have more to imagine.

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Eating Alone

I once got some advice on eating alone from B-movie "Hope Floats", whose only light-at-end-of-predictable-soap-opera-tunnel was Harry Connick Jr. playing the role of a Stetson wearing carpenter... he was, umm...good with his hands...

Anyway, the trick is apparently to look mysterious. Not sketchy, or creepy, or like a cold war spy who hasn’t been told that Berlin fell, but “mysterious” in the most alluring sense. Confused? You’re in good company. Neither I nor Cher’s mother in “Moonstruck” (the always classy Olympia Dukakis) have it figured out either.

I think the truth of the matter is simple: you have to be beautiful. That way, no one wonders why you’re alone. You’re alone so that no one blocks the view as we stare and envy, as you cut tiny well-proportioned bites of lettuce and place them delicately between your collagen enhanced lips.

Fat people are alone because no one can afford to feed them.

Ugly people are alone because no one wants to ruin their own appetite.

And everyone else is alone because they fall into one of these two categories.

Obviously that’s the way it works.

However, I believe I’ve found a temporary solution to the eating-alone-dilemma:



Gauze.

It’s so easy, I wonder why others haven’t caught on?

Applied liberally to one’s head, it’s the perfect cover (4 or 5 times around should do the trick) and without saying a word, one is then able to convey the appropriate message: “I’m eating alone because I have amnesia. I can’t remember who I was supposed to meet for breakfast/lunch/dinner. Or where. Even thinking about my past is painful…ow! My head!” at this point, you may rub your forehead gently, looking slightly pained. Make sure to not overdo it, a little bit of rubbing goes a long way.

At least that’s what grandma always said.

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