Unpopular

"By a curious confusion, many modern critics have passed from the proposition that a masterpiece may be unpopular to the other proposition that unless it is unpopular it cannot be a masterpiece."

-- G. K. Chesterton

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It wasn't that I hated the experience, but that I hated the performance. The experience was a bit uncomfortable, yes, but at times giddy and overall very fun. There is a kind of sadism involved with watching non-actors go through the motions of acting: hands clasped like yin-yangs at the belly to suggest innocence, arms springing wide in a "come and get it" type gesture, self-conscious looks to the audience when jokes fall flat, etc.

I am speaking, of course, of community theatre.

Never have I been a part of it. High school was the nearest I came, and while I was admittedly involved in sub-par theatre with ideas far above its station, there was always the excuse that we were just kids, that any play we attempted was beyond us in scope of emotion. Many college students who study theatre come to the nasty realization that what they did in high school was crap; the realization comes as a result of the truth that the only way to move forward is to admit it. So while at the time I believed our Brigadoon was definitive, I know now that we missed the point quite a bit.

The one redeeming part of our Brigadoon, though, was that with a few exceptions, everyone grew to love the show and the story it told. That love, if anything, showed on stage. It shined in the gloom of our nontalent and nontraining.

Last night, I saw Bye Bye Birdie at a community theatre here in Cincinnati. It was awful--possibly the poorest night of theatre I have ever sat through, with the worst acting I have ever seen. But what did I expect, tagging along with my girlfriend who felt obligated to see a co-worker's cameo? I can't go into details of the production because I refuse to rewatch it in my mind. And I won't give a formal review here.

Not to mention, while I am by no means a perfect or famous actor (and I do children's theatre, for goodness' sake), I have had several years of training and experience. I am no longer in high school. All this goes to say, I don't want to lambast community theatre, because I don't believe in sixth-graders beating up the first-graders at recess.

And for anyone who's seen Waiting for Guffman, you know what I'm talking about anyway.

But I will say this: It is rarely a good idea to cast fifty people in any show and even more rarely to mount any production outdoors.

However, as in high school, there were redeeming qualities. In the middle of act two, there was a number that impressed me very much. Harmonies were perfect. I think all of the men on stage were part of the same barbershop quartet.

What was different from high school, though, was the attitude toward the show. There was no love. No ownership. No comprehension, in some cases. Even the director in the program notes admitted to never having seen or read the musical before he agreed to direct it.

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Tickets for that show cost $8. That's about a third of the price of professional theatre in this area, unless you go to see a Broadway Across America show downtown, at which point the price jumps by a factor of ten. The amphitheatre last night was filled almost to capacity, or about 300 people attended. And each of them felt that this night of theatre was worth it. They came to see friends, family, and respected members of the community (I think the mayor himself played the mayor in the show...but maybe not).

Not to put too fine a point on it, but those same people who spent $8 watching nonprofessionals at work would probably laugh at the idea of spending $25 to watch talented strangers. Professional strangers.

(Strangers who like to claim martyrdom for the sake of their art, sure. Point taken.)

So here's my question. What is the cost of professionalism? Is it economic? Social? Quantity or quality?

There are some in the acting world who say they do it for the applause and the attention and the audience. To those whose love of theatre stops there, I suggest you get involved with community theatre, where you get standing ovations and plenty of attention every time you perform. People will see you in church and faun over your abilities. At the grocery store, your parent's friends will ask you--wide-eyed--how you remember all those lines, and you'll shrug and say that you don't know, it just comes to you. And the local paper will always show up and take embarrassing photos with generic, inaccurate captions. This is the kind of theatre for you. It is low on investment and high on return.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

To those who are okay with their good work being unpopular, the professional world awaits.