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Mad Martigan Rocks!
Jun. 20th, 2005 11:03 pmI was dragged to the theatre against my will tonight by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rossywar. I am getting my revenge tomorrow by dragging her to the theatre against her will.
We went to see The Postman Always Rings Twice starring good ole chunky himself, Val Kilmer, who I used to love like a maniac in Willow - a secret movie passion of my mother and I.
Anyway, I didn't want to go but said I'd accompany Ros because she had to attend, so traipsed down to the Embankment after work, hot, sweaty and scraping chewing gum off the bottom of my shoe. When I got there I immediately took off my underwear (I can't be bothered to explain why) and then we walked into the theatre to look for our seats.
We were... amazed.
You ever get to the theatre and walk in the door and look at the letter on your ticket, say it's row "X" and you walk back and back and back, further away from the stage until it's a mere speck in the distance and you think you could see more from, say, the moon? Well our seats were the complete opposite of that. As in we walked in and went further and further toward the stage until we discovered we were sitting on the second row back, dead centre. Less than three feet from Val's explosive entrance onto the stage at the beginning of the play.
I tried to be mature and not to giggle, which was difficult when I kept picturing the leading man in little Mad-Martigan-esque plaits (braids, for you Yanks :P). The rest of the audience had no such compunction, however, and spent much of the play giggling. Bearing in mind I turned up there in tatty jeans and trainers and the rest of them were wearing evening dresses and suits, I was amazed at the level of immaturity on their part. I thought that as adults you were supposed to at least try to hide the fact that you're giggling at a sex scene on stage, or full-frontal nudity. But no. Apparently as soon as the skirt comes up and Val Kilmer starts giving fake head in front of you, all bets are off and even the most distinguished gray starts acting like a thirteen year old behind the bike sheds. I kept expecting Val to raise his head and exclaim "Please! I'm trying to concentrate... This isn't easy you know!" and then dive back down. That would definitely have been worth the entry fee.
Other than that very good. Though my fave part was when Val almost knocked himself unconscious on the 'meaningful' and 'symbolic' big honking great car that was sticking out of the ceiling for the whole of the second act. You just know he was walking off-stage going "I'm gonna kill that fuckin' director."
rossywar. I am getting my revenge tomorrow by dragging her to the theatre against her will. We went to see The Postman Always Rings Twice starring good ole chunky himself, Val Kilmer, who I used to love like a maniac in Willow - a secret movie passion of my mother and I.
Anyway, I didn't want to go but said I'd accompany Ros because she had to attend, so traipsed down to the Embankment after work, hot, sweaty and scraping chewing gum off the bottom of my shoe. When I got there I immediately took off my underwear (I can't be bothered to explain why) and then we walked into the theatre to look for our seats.
We were... amazed.
You ever get to the theatre and walk in the door and look at the letter on your ticket, say it's row "X" and you walk back and back and back, further away from the stage until it's a mere speck in the distance and you think you could see more from, say, the moon? Well our seats were the complete opposite of that. As in we walked in and went further and further toward the stage until we discovered we were sitting on the second row back, dead centre. Less than three feet from Val's explosive entrance onto the stage at the beginning of the play.
I tried to be mature and not to giggle, which was difficult when I kept picturing the leading man in little Mad-Martigan-esque plaits (braids, for you Yanks :P). The rest of the audience had no such compunction, however, and spent much of the play giggling. Bearing in mind I turned up there in tatty jeans and trainers and the rest of them were wearing evening dresses and suits, I was amazed at the level of immaturity on their part. I thought that as adults you were supposed to at least try to hide the fact that you're giggling at a sex scene on stage, or full-frontal nudity. But no. Apparently as soon as the skirt comes up and Val Kilmer starts giving fake head in front of you, all bets are off and even the most distinguished gray starts acting like a thirteen year old behind the bike sheds. I kept expecting Val to raise his head and exclaim "Please! I'm trying to concentrate... This isn't easy you know!" and then dive back down. That would definitely have been worth the entry fee.
Other than that very good. Though my fave part was when Val almost knocked himself unconscious on the 'meaningful' and 'symbolic' big honking great car that was sticking out of the ceiling for the whole of the second act. You just know he was walking off-stage going "I'm gonna kill that fuckin' director."
