Dispatches from Musical: The Finale

Pippin was a success. What a shock. With so much talent crammed onto one stage that it had to fight for the spotlight, there was no way that the show could fail by human intervention. Naturally, this was a mortal production and there were two hours of post-production speeches that left me wanting never to do a school musical again, but ultimately, I left the cast party feeling significantly confident that if I were to do this kind of three-month commitment again, I would do it without thinking (and without a choice). The four-show run was a varied affair, with no night the same. The Wednesday morning show was most notable for the smattering of middle-school students that somehow understood every ribald section and made light of it to the rest of the auditorium that did not (about a 1:2 split), the orchestra power briefly going out, an accident involving stage crew and a ladder, and the most jarring moment, in which an actor discreetly vomited and passed out for a good several minutes. Maeve, playing Catherine, adroitly continued the scene, until Ms. Neu, sequestered by the director, stopped the production prematurely and Dr. Shapiro led the band in a half-decent version of Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da while Mr. Comfort took the pulse of a fidgeting, ecstatic fifth-grade audience.

The Thursday production, populated mostly by teachers and families, went well, as did Friday night. Thursday night was punctuated by Stage Crew leader Sean McKeown and his promposal during intermission, which, thank goodness, was successful. I fear to imagine how the production would have been hampered if he had been turned down, but best of luck to him. The most important note of the Friday night show was the presence of our late Mr. Neale, accompanied by Rev. Neale, as well as Jakob Kleeman and several acquaintances. The Saturday night, eagerly awaited by the cast as their last opportunity for the spotlight and dreaded by the rest of the production for that very reason, was an excellent production with the prominent exception of the cast putting in all of the curse words that were originally in the play and several obscene gestures to which I would have appreciated my grandmother not being witness. Somehow, the play was better with the lines removed as when put back in; they really added nothing to the play but a new level of awkwardness. Kudos to the cast for throwing in a last hurrah to being edgy- it did not work. Need you be reminded, this is a high school musical, not High School Musical. This will be remembered with a token handbill preserved in the Masterman library and a reminiscence at a later reunion, and by me as the cast embarrassing themselves by feebly cursing as if they never had before. Shame on those of you that tried to pressure the fifth grader to shout dumbass- I am half inclined to believe that he should have shouted it at you. Another complaint - cast speeches. The finale was fantastic- everything was on point and then there are ten thousand speeches. I think perhaps for the benefit of time efficiency that speeches should be given during the cast party where everyone is sugar high and not listening.

Now it is time for my cast speech:

I would like to sincerely thank Simon Shapiro and Isaiah Weekes for giving rousing speeches on the behalf of the orchestra and everyone else for trying. I would also like to thank Isaiah for helping me deal with six instruments and not minding being poked occasionally. The whole percussion section for not minding me in their way, and of course, the whole orchestra, for somehow enjoying my off-key accordion, and the anonymous person that let me borrow one of their three music lockers for the accordion, where it promptly exploded and had to be carried out like a wounded exotic animal. Stage crew- you are the bane of my existence. You put hay bales in front of said music locker; you leave your belongings everywhere; you put your props in inconvenient places; and most importantly, wherever you leave your props in inconvenient places that render mobility impossible and then yell at me whenever I try to move around them for fear of someone touching a hay bale or a piece of cardboard. I still have no idea why sound crew is an independent thing and why there are more than two people in it, considering that there would always be two people at the table and four hangers-on. Long story short: Ms. Neu, you are the best. Please pick a musical with a guitar next year. I never want to hear "Corner of the Sky" again and I am not playing songs with one bar of banjo again. Those are my only demands. Everyone did a great job except whoever wrote the show. I hope that I have responded accordingly; in Pippin terms, in thinking about the sun, I might have been a bit too blistering. But as the song goes:

I've never wondered if I was afraid

When there was a challenge to take

I never thought about how much I weighed

When there was still one piece of cake

Maybe it's meant the hours I've spent

Feeling broken and bent and unwell

But there's still no cure more heaven-sent

As the chance to raise some hell

Until spring turns into fall, thank you for reading Dispatches from the Musical.

Signing off,

Brady Santoro.