The Theater District

Second only to NYC, Cleveland has the largest theater district east of the Mississippi River. Musicals have always been a big part of my life, and whether watching the movie versions with my cousins or siblings, acting in them in high school, or venturing to Eugene or Portland whenever any tour came through, it's hard to match the delight that is a well-done musical. (I apologize for any who may have seen said high school productions...we really tried). I caught only two shows of last year's season here in the Cleve, and so made a point to purchase the full season package this year. I didn't really have much to say after last month's first show...Young Frankenstein (other than that our Frankenstein had been the voice of Hercules in the Disney flick, and anyone who wasn't dazzled by 'Go the Distance' is seriously disturbed). Puttin' on the Ritz of course brought the house down, but it's got nowhere near the makings of a classic. Not to mention a heavy dose of WRAUNCHY.

Last night's production, however, was a breath of fresh air. I have to chalk Mamma Mia up as one of the most enjoyable shows to attend, and it's almost entirely because of the music. Those songs are a straight-out blast. By the time the finale hit, all I could think as I watched the cast dancing around was that it sure looked like the funnest thing ever. I mean, who WOULDN'T want to make their living by singing and dancing to Abba each night? After the finale, the cast performed Dancing Queen again, and then did yet another number before calling it quits. And while there are usually people filing out early to get to their cars, looking around the theater last night, no one was going anywhere. Because watching such a party on stage makes you never want to leave.

There was one tragic moment for me...it came before the show even started. I remarked to my friend K that it looked from his headshot like the man playing Sky was incredibly attractive. And I don't even like headshots. I've never before labeled someone as a dreamboat based solely on their headshot, but I was chomping at the bit to see him in real life. Not five minutes later, a voice announced to the audience that the role of Sky would be played by his understudy. To be fair, understudy did cut a nice figure. But he was not a dreamboat. By any stretch.

The funny thing about going to the theater district is that I always get lost on the way home. And I have nothing to say for myself, other than that it's always dark, and I have no ability to orient myself to any direction whatsoever. Last time I ended up in a part of town I had never been, had to back out of a one-way road I entered by mistake, and don't think I was ever actually inside a lane the whole time. I figured I turned one street too soon, so I corrected this mistake last night, but after a few minutes realized I was heading back downtown. I had turned right where I should have turned left. Which made no sense to me, because, once again, I am perpetually disoriented. It's a problem.

Other shows this season include Chicago, In the Heights, and Grease, but I have been most excited about Fiddler on the Roof, because Topol (the man from the movie) will be starring. That's right, folks. It's his farewell tour, and I can't even begin to say how exciting it is. I've been joking with friends that he's got to be pretty old now, and that I only hope he won't keel over between now and next spring. Which is why I gasped when I got home last night to find an email from Playhouse Square announcing that Harvey Fierstein will be replacing Topol in the show. I scrolled down for the obituary, but it turns out Topol needs emergency shoulder surgery and has to pull out of the tour. Um, shoulder surgery? The man who lives for work and tradition and love is out for the count because of shoulder surgery? Unheard of. Unthinkable.