My aunt is a very infrequent theatergoer, but she does see one show every year: the Radio City Christmas Spectacular. Since I moved to New Haven this year, she invited me to the city for her annual adventure to the Music Hall, and I couldn't resist the lure of spectacle, corny Christmas cheer and tap dancing Rockettes.
The show is what it is. For someone who attends theater regularly, seeing it is a bizarre experience. For one, it just sort of starts, suddenly, as the audience members with buckets of popcorn and glowing necklaces purchased in the lobby are still milling about the auditorium, half heartedly clambering into their seats. The orchestra, meanwhile, is dramatically rising out of the pit to a crescendo of music and singers in side balconies are belting their hearts out - all the usual cues for the audience to sit up and pay attention - but the house lights are barely out, presumably to accommodate the audience, which continues to chat and mill about, as though previews are playing on screen at the movie theater. The whole thing was more of an amusement park than a normal theater experience. Though really what was I expecting? It's a big budget spectacle performed four times a day - five during the height of the holiday season - complete with Santa Claus, bubble snow over the audience and mega marketing cross promotions. Entertainment for the biggest theme park in the world - New York City (the show even has a big double-decker New York tour bus that goes on a virtual tour of the city ending with a big tap dance number in Time Square).
The best part of the show is the Rockettes. When they are on stage, the place lights up like a million lightbulbs. I take the cheese and say 'please sir, may I have some more?' Their precision synchronized dancing is infectious and dazzling, glamorous in that old-fashioned Broadway style that never actually shows up on Broadway anymore. They are a relic of early 20th century vaudeville, but oh what a relic. When all 32 of them line up at the front of the stage to do their trademark kickline, one can't help but smile.
The rest of the show could be so much better. The dialogue is groan-worthy, the cutesiness overbearing, and the spectacle grand but used to disappointing effect. The show passes by in a flash. If you know how hard they must have worked to put that spectacle on stage, you might be impressed, but one wishes that they had spent more time making the spectacle seem truly eye-catching. It isn't revealed in a way that makes the audience sigh in amazement, and it's gone before we noticed it was there - in an age where very little is impressive, we half want the spectacular to make us see the spectacular. But I suppose the show as it is gets the job done. The place sells a whole lot of its nearly 5,000 tickets for every performance from the beginning of November to the end of December. Clearly its filling the void for frothy family entertainment during the holidays. No one is looking for much more than that, and I guess in some ways, you don't really need to.
But for my holiday cheer in coming years, I'll be seeing Balanchine's Nutcracker at New York City Ballet - wide-eyed, magical innocence, glorious music and wonderful dancing, what more could I ask for?
No comments:
Post a Comment