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owlectomyA couple of weeks ago (on my way back from the airport from Wiscon, as it happens), my mom and I dropped by Whole Foods and were looking at the community notices by the door. Among which was a poster for Hedwig And The Angry Inch. "OMG," I said, "I have to see that." (I loved the movie, but I heard that the original play was better). What's more, the name on the poster--the name of the director/producer/lead actor--was familiar to me; turns out that I had gone to high school with his brother, and my mom does volunteer work with their mom. Small world. Small, strange world.
I'd have been perfectly content to see it by myself, but my mom called me up to invite me, and I was like "Are you sure? Do you know what it's about?" and there was no way to gracefully get out of it--not that I'll pass up free tickets, mind you. And so I spent tonight in a small studio in North Raleigh, watching a low, low, low-budget production of Hedwig with my mom, and half-sort-of-wincing at just how raunchy it got.
I really liked it, though. I think it is true that the play is better than the movie--it holds together better thematically, especially at the end--but this particular instantiation of the play had a sound mixing problem that made the vocals rather hard to hear over the guitars and drums. This seems to happen all the time, but it's unfortunate when the songs are (a) so good and (b) so necessary to the plot.
I did enjoy the local references. I squealed at one place near the beginning where Hedwig mentioned that Tommy Gnosis was playing across the street at the RBC center; the RBC center is actually hosting, this weekend, a ginormous and heavily hyped evangelistic thing.
There is just something surreal about saying hello to a guy I used to vaguely know in high school, and then shortly thereafter seeing his brother on stage in his underwear.
I'd have been perfectly content to see it by myself, but my mom called me up to invite me, and I was like "Are you sure? Do you know what it's about?" and there was no way to gracefully get out of it--not that I'll pass up free tickets, mind you. And so I spent tonight in a small studio in North Raleigh, watching a low, low, low-budget production of Hedwig with my mom, and half-sort-of-wincing at just how raunchy it got.
I really liked it, though. I think it is true that the play is better than the movie--it holds together better thematically, especially at the end--but this particular instantiation of the play had a sound mixing problem that made the vocals rather hard to hear over the guitars and drums. This seems to happen all the time, but it's unfortunate when the songs are (a) so good and (b) so necessary to the plot.
I did enjoy the local references. I squealed at one place near the beginning where Hedwig mentioned that Tommy Gnosis was playing across the street at the RBC center; the RBC center is actually hosting, this weekend, a ginormous and heavily hyped evangelistic thing.
There is just something surreal about saying hello to a guy I used to vaguely know in high school, and then shortly thereafter seeing his brother on stage in his underwear.