A Culture Vulture Evening last night in La-La Land. Unlike what was taking place at the same time 3,000 mi. eastward, there were no Robitussin-hued Coolidge-Hoover revanchists on this stage, and any use of ketamine here was pretty much accepted if not mandated, given the demands of the setting: appropriate high-energy melodic voice-projection, wild waving of arms & hands, exaggerated leg-kicks that were most definitely not meant to be interpreted as goose-stepping or some other type of ultra salute etc. In addition to being entertained & awed, we were amused, but not in that way where the dictator shrugs and implores, ‘Are you not amused!’ Every crowd reaction here was natural, genuine, organic, not performative.
What can you say that has not already been said about two all-timers like Bernadette Peters & Lea Salonga? And a cast of seemingly hundreds also taking their star-turns in support of the headliners? With everyone performing from the incomparable Sondheim songbook? Wit, intelligence, genius, talent converged for those magical 2-plus hours, and cellphones, SOcial MEdia & all the rest of What Passes for Entertainment & Diversion in These End-Times somehow disappeared. Attention so rapt that maybe you forgot to blink for a while, or maybe even respire every few seconds. (P.S. Throngs of Pilipinos in attendance last night, smilingly sharing their kinship with their countrywoman Salonga.)
No wrong notes, no missed steps, seamless. We still have this for now, but you hate to think how a libertarian in a chorus line or in an orchestra would ruin a production by making it all about his personal-property rights, etc. Or how AI might render all of us redundant.
So, Saint Stephen of Sondheim, have mercy on all of us. Help us carry-out your most fervent prayer:
Somebody, crowd me with love,
Somebody, force me to care,
Somebody, make me come through,
I’ll always be there,
As frightened as you,
To help us survive
Being alive,
Being alive,
Being alive!
As opposed to some of these Thoroughbred advisories (purportedly!) we have been delivering to you in a coffin via a hearse: dead! She’s dead, Jim! Dead! Send in the clowns!
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