That’s how the production ends — not with bang, but with a whimper.
But what a whimper it was.
The first two acts were, in my not so humble opinion, a bit weak — quiet, lethargic, without compelling emotion or direction. I told Kris as much; I said nearly as much when I got down to the stage toward the end of the 3rd act. Karen had been loud enough, and was great throughout act 3. Rachel was about as good as usual. Dirk hadn’t done much yet. But Josh and Gideon had been softer than usual. No sharpness or bite, twinkle in the eye, quick turn or wit.
Going through the motions.
That’s Buffy, season 6, for those who care. Buffy back from the dead, feeling more dead than alive because she had been ripped from heaven.
I got on stage. I could have been happier with my first appearance; the last few lines were nearly a fumble and recovery, not a really touchdown pass or run. But I got some laughter from the audience — I wouldn’t say that I was counting on it (which would fuck me up, if I hadn’t gotten it), but rather that I knew it was a possibility, one that I had accounted for.
But my return, I thought, was great. I turned away from Beth-Ann, almost ignoring her, rather than paying attention to her words as I had previously. On the one hand I’m angry at her for making me miss my card game. And now she’s being a busy-body. On top of that she’s bringing up one of my cases and criticizing me. So I go from denial of knowledge (“Keine Ahnung”) to admission of possibility but without letting her thing I care (“Möglich”) to, finally, outright anger because she has pushed the issue.
Instead of waiting and responding, as is the case, for example, in most of the Dirk-Rachel exchanges, I followed up immediately on her final “ungerecht von dir –” and launched into my little sentence, then stormed off stage, throwing off her arm. I got reactions for the audience, which is nice.
Back to the booth — Kris and I were a perfect team, I thought, and our synchronized cues were amazingly smooth — perhaps that’s why I was at points disappointed with the performances … we were doing our best work up there!
The curtain fell/closed. I ran down, bowed, etc., and after gathering my stuff I told Sabine what I was taking, I talked with Felecia and Thyra, and said a sad good-bye to Manfred, before then walking to the bus stop (accompanying Felecia and Thyra for much of it) to catch the 9:20 home. Jessie and Regina also ended up on it, along with my neighbor, a tall-ish, “sturdy” (hefty but not overly fat) woman about my age who, it seems, might be a 9:20p.m. #4 rider … same bus, every day, same time. Or perhaps it was just coincidence that I saw her at the same bus and stop two nights in a row. Same time.
“Teaching” ist vorbei — all that is left: exam and grading.
Max S. was at the play tonight, by the way. Ah, Max.
Soon guests will arrive. I have four bottles of wine, cheesecake, veggies and pita and hummus, water and chips and pretzels.
Cast party, here I come.
Today I started “S” with Santana and followed up one album of his with Sarah McLauchlan (5 or so albums!) … still a ways to go there. I’m in the middle of “Solace,” I think. I furthermore think that I got most of my Sarah McL from Mike.
