T'eyla Minh

OKAY. Second attempt at this, as we had a power cut at work and it ate my first draft (and I had to finish it at home because I was busy). Thankfully I hadn't written very much in the way of Actual Thoughts...

And, before I properly begin - HOLY CHRIST IT'S HOT. Apparently it's meant to snow by the end of the week, after averaging about 30 degrees on Saturday just gone. I second flatline2010's Facebook status - the world is broken.

Anyway, we - Paul, David, my mum and I - went to see Phantom of the Opera last night for its 25th anniversary performance at the Royal Albert Hall - via Vue at Star City, I should say, as tickets for the Albert Hall were £25 for standing only - up in the gods and riiiiight at the back - and £250 per person for a box seat. Frankly, none of us are that rich. :P

We had seats at the middle in the back, which actually were okay because it was showing on Screen 1. I suspect this is better treatment than it would have received at Cineworld had they gotten their grubby paws on it - their description of the plot was decidedly sarcastic on their Twitter feed, to say the least...

The concert / show is being released on DVD and Bluray in November so be warned that if any POTO fans on my f-list are reading this, there will be specific, performance-related spoilers... It was streamed live around the world in any event (and apparently not-so-live as I think there are further showings this week), though obviously taking time zones into account, people may well have missed it.

( Review / Ramblings - probably LONG and contains SPOILERS. )

I totally wish Sunset Boulevard were so popular, but alas I feel a 25th anniversary performance of it may be a distant dream. Although at this rate the movie version is never going to get made either, so I suppose that's a blessing in disguise. ;)

Needless to say, I am now suitably reinspired to finish "Whisper", my latest POTO fic, though I may have to change tactic slightly. ( Fic spoilers / boring stuff )

Watch this space; I might even post it soon!

I was looking online for a photograph to post with this entry, but thanks to the 2004 movie being so prevalent, I failed. In any event, I was going to post a picture of the moment Erik draws Christine through the mirror, or more specifically the moment he actually appears, because basically it's the sexiest thing EVAR and I just... do not know why. Something about the cape and the mask and the smoke, I think; either that or I've finally gone mad. ;)

On that note, I shall flee.

Listening to Michael Crawford randomly on my Winamp playlist of everything, and suddenly, it dawns on me, a week later:  I saw him live.  I was in the fifth row and I saw him live.  And I did, in fact, dissolve into my seat at one point.

All of that will be explained in the write-up, which will be finished by Wednesday, so help me.

Oh, God.  That voice.

(Last post for a while, honest...)

Just been to the website for The Woman in White.  Michael Crawford's barely recognisable. :D  Look!!

It has, however, had some wonderful reviews so far, and as I've said all along, Lloyd Webber really knows how to do Victorian melodrama, and I have absolute faith in him.  And at any rate, seeing anything on the stage it's designed for makes it three-hundred times better than any tour could be, and now I'm really starting to get quite excited... And quite frankly, I think I'm going to dissolve when Michael sings anyway, so the show won't really matter. :)

*squees*

This one didn't take as long; wish I'd typed the other one straight up...

( Phantom )

Tee hee.  I just love that story...

I just realised something.

See, there are three tenor voices that make me dissolve into a pile of goo.  Michael Ball is one of them, and Jeremy's another (and that, out of all the other things, is one of the reasons the whole him-thing started; there are really not that many singing voices that can make my insides dissolve, hence, instant idol-status for anyone that can...) and, of course, Michael Crawford is another.  And, okay, James Marsters, but only at the con singing Rest In Peace a capella, and I don't even have the evidence of that since it's not on the video... bastards.  But yes. Only three.  Jeremy and the two Michaels.

And I'd completely forgotten.

And I'm seeing him live in October. Note that word.  Live.  Not recorded.  Live, in-the-flesh in theatrical surround sound, and in the fifth row. And possibility of actual meetingness at the stage door, which I don't even want to contemplate at the moment, because it's too terrifying a concept.

Do we think perhaps I should warn the theatre in advance that there'll be a melted-me mess to clearn up?  Because really, this is not going to be pretty.  At Little Shop, it took every ounce of my self-control not to whimper and generally make a scene.  I'm going to have to take a gag, or something.

Anyway, while we're on the subject, I dreamt I was at The Woman In White last night... except nobody could follow the plot, and for some reason he was playing Lorne, and then he was signing things in some random conference room upstairs in the theatre after a cast-and-crew Q&A about the show, and I was trying to get something signed for Angela (going to be part of the plan anyway) and he ended up writing these random essays along with the signature.  He seemed to be a nice bloke, in any case.  And then there was this weirdness with Kat from 'Stenders and... Dave Brottman, who lived in a falling-down tower near the sea which we thought was deserted, and... yeah, that bit didn't make much sense.

But I'm blaming it on Eni, anyway, because of last night's/this morning's comment tennis.  And that's also why I'm listening to Michael Crawford anyway, so I can transcribe the Gene Kelly and Phantom anecdotes...

i'm having one of those days where everything i touch falls apart, and everyone on the street is determined to be annoying, whether they know it or not.

however, i have spoken to dave about dissertation stuffs and all seems fine, and in the process, got my first shakespeare today assignment back - 7.5, which is a B or thereabouts.

went shopping; had to buy a new potato peeler (the other one is bent beyond redemption from trying to use it as a form of leverage to separate some frozen pork steaks...) and a new frying pan, since my non-stick one is now always-stick. only problem there is the damn thing doesn't fit in the cupboard.  we have ridiculously small storage space...  also had to buy a new ruler because mine broke yesterday.  they don't seem to sell the folding-in-half ones any more, but i got one that rotates in half instead. it has a protractor in it. i'm easily amused. ;)

and my mum just phoned - she's booking us tickets for the woman in white (aforementioned michael crawford thingummy in london) for the secondish week of it.  yayyyy!  i did text angela to tell her, but it's too late now... anyway, she's a lawyer, she can afford her own tickets ;)  so, hurrah!  i will resist the urge to tidy up my only known one-off POTO fic and send it to the palace theatre.  will.... resist....

that's it.  i've done far too much today to read any more of hamlet right now. i'll think about that tomorrow (i'm scarlett o'hara) so i think maybe i'll redo the livejournal... or start on my mood theme. or something.

okay, before i even start on what the dream was, i just want to say - nobody and i mean nobody can possibly ever play the phantom except michael crawford. even when he's not singing phantom he's meltworthy... (and hello? he's the right age now! persuade him to do the movie!)

and i still can't watch any episode of "some mothers do 'ave 'em" without screwing my eyes up in consternation. damn talented man...

and i'm SO listening to phantom later... i'm in the mood for drama.

anyway, the dream

i dreamt that i was in "cats". but i wasn't just in "cats" as it is/was. it was a special performance, like, the last ever or something... and it was being performed in some local social centre, or hall, or something like that. not on a stage. and i wasn't even meant to be in it, but i was understudying someone else. in fact, i have no idea which character i was meant to be, but at first i was tabby, then i was black, but it doesn't matter.

there was this moment when one of the male cast, who was familiar then but isn't now, said i was doing really well. and i was basically following all the dance moves from everyone around me (realising that most of it was in fact improvised and this was far easier than trying to follow the difficult moves) i apologised for my appalling dancing. but the strange thing is, he said my dancing was fine, nay good, but he was a little worried about my singing (i was having an off day and i know i missed a high note.)

which could lead me to worry that maybe i'm not as good as i think, or that maybe the one thing i thought i was any good at is, in fact, not anything i'm any good at... but i can't deal with that right now, so on we go...

we got to the end of act one. elaine paige was playing grizabella, but she wasn't singing "memory", but something that was like the memory of "memory", which made everyone cry. and it had most of the cast off the video.

we finished act one and suddenly i found myself telling people i was in "cats", who hadn't realised but had turned up to watch (it was all very rushed, you see.) these included my mum, who'd noticed (of course) and, for some reason, salma. and because of all the cat makeup, she barely recognised me, plus i haven't seen her since the end of upper sixth, so... so there was a brief interval, where i was chatting to people. and as we were moving back to perform act two, john partridge (the tugger) smiled and waved at me.

i was a newbie on "cats"!

that's about all of it... but it was the most wonderful thing. i was in "cats"

and moving on to something that's been bothering me for a while... andrew lloyd webber commissioned and produced the video of "cats". a short time later, it closed. but, (the theory is) there is now a definitive version for future generations to remember it by. (which has all sorts of things wrong with it, despite the almost perfect cast - for example, "growltiger's last stand" is missing, and the tune for "mungojerrie and rumpleteazer" has changed since the original version at some point after 1995, and the words to "memory" have also changed slightly... so it's really not definitive.)

this worries me. they are, and have been, planning a phantom movie (of the musical) for the past 10 years. (brief interlude - he's singing "love changes everything"... my life is complete :D) there has been little success for several reasons - the ongoing battle between the fans and the producers over who to cast as erik (namely the MCPMC [michael crawford for phantom movie campaign] and my very own "death to the banderas" personal campaign) as well as battles within the fandom over the banderas, michael crawford or even colm wilkinson (please, no. he's fantastic as valjean and utterly awful as the phantom) i'm quite happy for dave willets, or one of the other broadway/west end phantoms, so long as they have the stage presence and the voice to pull it off. but no, the hollywood execs. are determined to cast a big star. luckily, the banderas has had a series of utter flops and he's now out of the loop...

another reason is lloyd webber's indecision over his christine. sarah brightman is really too old now. all the people he's considered so far have been considerably eyebrow-raising - andrea corr, jessica simpson (that's just one step away from britney spears, for god's sake). meanwhile there's millions of us fans out there who would kill for the role and already know it inside and out...

(interesting. MC singing "all i ask of you", thus resulting in a bizarre conflict of "i hate raoul! but it's the phantom! argh!" of course, i can pretend it's christine and erik singing it, which makes it all better :D)

anyway, i digress. what worries me is that if they get this movie made (at some point this century...) they'll count this as some kind of 'definitive' version and close the show. (which would a terrible mistake because the combined profits of "cats" and "phantom" are probably what keep ALW going, and if it wasn't for them and "joseph", he wouldn't be where he is today...)

("music of the night." excuse me a moment..... *drifts off* *comes back* jesus christ, just put him in the movie. they'll have the entire cinema in complete silence...)

so as if i wasn't conflicted about about whether or not i want this movie made, i'm now even more conflicted wanting it not to be made at all if it means the show gets closed. second to "cats", its the one thing i've aimed to see in london, yet another of those life-long constants. not only that, it has to be seen in london, because her majesty's theatre is god damn beautiful and the perfect setting, and without it the show is nothing.

in conclusion - lloyd webber is an idiot. a brilliant, disgustingly talented idiot.

end of ramble. and all this because of a dream...