a rainy day production

Theater has always been an art which attempts to recreate life and reflect it back to an audience with a bended mirror. It examines the triumphs and failures, strengths and frailties of the human condition, occasionally adding music or comedy into the mix. But why do people actually go to see plays if all they do is reflect life, something which we can experience firsthand for free? In my opinion, I think people go to plays consciously to be entertained, but subconsciously to find something of themselves in the characters. The plays we like best are often the ones we can most identify with, whether we realize it or not. Although the position is in much contention, my most favorite play is probably “My Fair Lady,” originally George Bernard Shaw’s “Pygmalion”. I first saw it when I was 5, adapted to the screen starring Rex Harrison and Audrey Hepburn. As soon as my mom would feed the plastic block to the VHS I would sprint up stairs to put on my dress-up skirt so I could dance along to all the songs, escorted by Teddy who sashayed me around the room. Although most of the intellectual, social, and mature adult material flew straight over my head, I still felt like I understood the play, even if I didn’t quite work out the plot line. It was about a poor girl who worked very hard so she could dance and wear pretty things, and she eventually falls in love with her teacher. As I got older, and the VHS got more and more play time, the subtleties and social implications began to emerge, resulting in a new found admiration and deeper understanding of the play. Every time I see it, or read it, I discover more and more, and my love and respect for “My Fair Lady” multiply exponentially. The sensations I felt when I was 5 have not diminished or changed, and they return, intact, each time I listen to “Wouldn't It Be Loverly” or “Just You Wait.” It is interesting to think that tribal Shaman were simultaneously healers and storytellers, that stories acted as remedies. When I was sick, I would lay on the couch and watch My Fair Lady and, “with a little bit of luck”, I would feel a lot better. In this way I like to think of theaters as giant pharmacies, delivering remedies to the masses. But a remedy for what? Perhaps a remedy for everyday life, a remedy to the parts of ourselves that are missing or submerged, a part of ourselves we’d rather not admit to. Eliza Doolittle represents both parts of myself, one I’d rather not admit to, and one I’d like to be. She is naïve and abrasive, but she becomes refined and educated. But in the play Eliza prescribes my favorite remedy of all: a room somewhere, a big chair, lots of chocolate, and a man who loves her. What more could anyone ask for in life?

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YEcX9gNVg1U 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwNKyTktDIE&feature=related