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We had tickets to Lestat for last night. Unfortunately, the show closed after the Sunday matinee. Depriving Chuckro of his chance to complete the bad vampire musical trifecta (after suffering through Dracula: The Musical and Dance of the Vampires). Alas, alas.
So Chuckro's mom snatched up tickets to something random. Which turned out to be The Lieutenant of Inishmore. Now, she knew nothing about this play. I knew some stuff - it's up for a boatload of Tonys, it's a comedy, and it's incredibly violent. As in, it made Slate for an article about its violence.
Oh. My. God. Most violent play ever. Not the range of variation of violence of, say, Titus Andronicus (which had the whole rape thing and the eating of pies made of the queen's sons and so on). Just...violence, violence, violence. It's about a small town in Ireland in 1993, and the terrorists that call it home. There's dead cats and dead people and torture and hacking apart the bodies. And a running gag about shooting out people's eyes.
Did I say gag? Yes, I did. It's funny. Really funny, actually. Gruesomely so. They used considerably more blood than Sweeney Todd, which is impressive. I feel bad for the stage crew - by the end, the floor was literal awash with blood, and every single character's costume was saturated in the stuff. I don't know if they were using an extremely water soluble dye or whether they just go through a full set of costumes and props every night. Every time you think the violence is over, something else happens that results in even more blood. On the walls, on the furniture, on the curtains, in people's hair, sprayed across their faces...
And, God help me, it was hysterical.
Chuckro and his sister didn't care for it much at all. His mom and I loved it. I think it's kind of one of those love-it-or-hate-it things.
Oh, and randomly enough, the understudy for the lead actress is an acquaintance of mine from high school.
So Chuckro's mom snatched up tickets to something random. Which turned out to be The Lieutenant of Inishmore. Now, she knew nothing about this play. I knew some stuff - it's up for a boatload of Tonys, it's a comedy, and it's incredibly violent. As in, it made Slate for an article about its violence.
Oh. My. God. Most violent play ever. Not the range of variation of violence of, say, Titus Andronicus (which had the whole rape thing and the eating of pies made of the queen's sons and so on). Just...violence, violence, violence. It's about a small town in Ireland in 1993, and the terrorists that call it home. There's dead cats and dead people and torture and hacking apart the bodies. And a running gag about shooting out people's eyes.
Did I say gag? Yes, I did. It's funny. Really funny, actually. Gruesomely so. They used considerably more blood than Sweeney Todd, which is impressive. I feel bad for the stage crew - by the end, the floor was literal awash with blood, and every single character's costume was saturated in the stuff. I don't know if they were using an extremely water soluble dye or whether they just go through a full set of costumes and props every night. Every time you think the violence is over, something else happens that results in even more blood. On the walls, on the furniture, on the curtains, in people's hair, sprayed across their faces...
And, God help me, it was hysterical.
Chuckro and his sister didn't care for it much at all. His mom and I loved it. I think it's kind of one of those love-it-or-hate-it things.
Oh, and randomly enough, the understudy for the lead actress is an acquaintance of mine from high school.
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Date: 2006-05-31 08:06 pm (UTC)From: