Dinner and a Show

Guest bloggin' from the AH Muse Arts Editor and my wife, Erinn. Enjoy!

So couple of weekends ago, the AH Muse editor and I had our first close encounter with community theater (Dancing at Lughnasa, Monmouth Players). Aside from a few stark ohgod-I-really-am-in-my-thirties-if-I’m-doing-something-like-this moments, it was entirely enjoyable (I should note that this can also happen to me during routine parenting tasks; I’m learning to deal with it better).

We were long overdue to see one of the Monmouth Players productions as CJ (aka Carl) Nolan, our local council rep and sometime pal has performed in oodles of these shows. Seems like he’s always handing Tim or me a new postcard advertising the details of his latest engagement. Most of the time, we politely pocket the materials and then later, say before bed, spend a few minutes wondering what fresh brand of Waiting for Guffman horror we might find at said venue. I know, pretty immature, right? Can’t help it though -- I did some (limited) stage work in high school and the VHS footage my folks took of it is effing frightening and blackmail-worthy.

Anyhow, thrilled to report that it was an excellent night out – a little nosh at Indigo Moon (thanks to Mr. & Mrs. Donaghy for the gift certificate) beforehand and a rush to make the 8:15 curtain call. The usher fellow had a podium lit like a matre d’s and he looked down his shadowed nose at us a bit when we arrived at 8:17 saying, “You must be the Hills,” but then smiled and shuffled us quickly to our seats in the second row.

At this point, I was thinking: Crap. Second row? We’re totally exposed. What if we’re not good community theater people? (Snickering, laughing at all the wrong moments, getting sleepy, whatever.) Turns out, we didn’t need to be. These folks are talented -- turning out many believable, tender, and whole-hearted performances -- supported by a kind set and appropriate lighting design. And, to boot, in a very charming play.

Seriously, who are these people who hold down day jobs and then opt to memorize and rehearse two hours of dialogue --spoken entirely in a Brogue–in order to entertain 50 suburbanites on a Saturday night? Fascinating folks.

It’s kinda strange that in the end, the only thing that bothered me about the event was that I felt uncomfortable with the audience size – these performers, their performances, would only gain momentum from the response of a larger crowd. So, if you can catch them this weekend or next (Feb. 18th, 19th, 20th, 25th, or 26tth), please do. They deserve more eyes.

The AH Muse Editor and I are already thinking about arriving slightly late for seats at their April production of Neil Simon’s Laughter on the 23rd Floor. See www.monnouthplayers.org for details.