A (Wicked) View from the Bridge

It's okay, I'm not standing atop the Brooklyn Bridge having melancholy thoughts, quite the opposite, in fact. Yesterday I treated myself to a Broadway double bill. I'd been hearing great things about the latest production of Arthur Miller's A View From the Bridge (in which Scarlett Johanssen is making her Broadway debut), but all the evening shows were soldout, so I didn't think I would get to see it. However, Thespus must ahve been watching over me because I managed to get a ticket to a mattinnee through the last minute discount ticket place in Times Square an hour before the performance started.

I've always wanted to see A View from the Bridge, not just because I'm a fan of Miller and of deeply depressing 20th century American tragedies in general, but because (way back in the day when I was still flirting with a career on the stage) I read the part of Catherine for my Drama Centre directing audition. Obviously that didn't go too well, but I really liked that piece (if you're familiar with the play, it was the scene from near the beginning of Act II where Catherine tries to explain to Rodolpho why she can't hate Eddie) and to see Scarlett Johanssen perform it on Broadway was one of those real WOW moments. The whole production was incredibly moving. I cried through the entre second half and the bows, only just managing to pull myself together (after giving myself a stern talking to in the bathroom after the show) as I stepped back out onto the street. While Scarlett was great, Liev Schreiber (who fans of the Scream trilogy will remember played Cotton) was 0the real standout as Eddie. In fact, the entire cast were just in a class of their own.

After that though, I needed cheering up (picture me moping around Times Square, occassionaly wiping away a stray tear). Fortunately, I'd planned ahead and bought a ticket to the evening performance of Wicked, which I couldn't afford to see in Aus. because I was saving up for this trip. It was worth the wait. I mean witches, a boarding school and a romance all thrown together in a musical? That is a bonified recepie for AWESOME! Like A View from the Bridge, it was a show that hit close to my heart. Think of my Twilight obsession. It's pretty bad, right? Well, that's got nothing on my childhood obsession with The Wizard of Oz and Return to Oz (best sequel ever btw--if you haven't seen it, you must it's completely messed up). My parents and Jess can testify to this. The only other obsession I've had that's come close was my obsession for witches. Mum, Dad and Jess can also testify to this. So I was always going to like the show. And I did. I mean I ABSOLUTELY FRICKIN' LOVED IT!!! The minute I get to Boston, I'm getting the book (I'm on a self-imposed book buying ban until we leave New York--Mum, there's two boxes headed your way). I mean, the sets, the singing, the dancing, everything was fantastic. My only criticism of the whole show was Fiyero. Fiyero. What kind of a name for a hero is that? I wasn't impressed. It's almost as bad as Rhett. I've still got a bone to pick with Margaret Mitchel about that, that and her snapping eyes.

But Wicked wasn't just fantastic and wonderful, it was a little bit sad too. They kept saying Oz, over and over. Oz, Oz, Oz, Aus. By the end I was ready jump up on stage, steal the ruby slippers and click my heels together three times because the show let that thought creep into my head, the one that must be kept at bay at all costs: there's no place like home. New York is the last place I thought I'd get homesick because I love this city, really, really love it, but last night it felt about a bazillion miles from where I wanted to be. Yes, we're having the time of our lives over here, and no, I wouldn't give up this opportunity for anything, but I want you all to know that I'm thinking of you, I miss you, and I wish you were here with us.

Love,
Margs

xo xo xo