last night i saw the broadway revival of "streetcar named desire." i can't write about the crappy piece of over-cheesed pizza i ate across the street beforehand, or the truly awful and overpriced salad i ate at eatery afterwards. instead i write about the play, because williams' script is a perfect meal of words.
everything was conspiring to ruin this performance. three cellphones went off in the first act alone. three people in the row behind us got up midway through the act, and in the process of leaving, tromped on the paper shopping bags of the woman directly behind us. sirens blared outside studio 54. subways rattled underneath. at the climax of act one, as blanche recounted to mitch her emotional and horrible past marriage, the sound technician accidentally cranked up the mike "to eleven" for a few seconds. to close the act, natasha richardson as blanche, said one of my alltime favorite lines: "sometimes there's god... so quickly." before she even hit the last syllable, before the lights had even begun to fade, a loud weird "BRAVA!!!" was heard. let the woman say her line for cryin' out loud!
i was, apparently, in the middle of a three-ring circus. but it mattered not one bit. and the odd casting choices? who cares. and the awkward sound design? whatever. this play is a thoroughbred horse, that cannot be stopped (by the way, this play has now been a meal, and also a horse. let's see what else i can come up with). i could read it/act it/study it/watch it again and again and again.
tonight i am making crepes for the first time--savory and sweet--in a new crepe pan, with artisinal jam i bought online from june taylor preserves. on monday, a full report.
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