I am going to state a very unpopular Broadway opinion.
I didn't like Cats.
There. I said it.
And as much as I really didn't enjoy it, The Husband absolutely HATED it. He was thoroughly bored. When it finally premiered here in Toronto thirty-five years ago, he was stuck in a slightly obstructed seat that caused him to miss the entirety of stage left. I don't think a better seat would have mattered, though. The abstract concept of bringing T.S. Eliot's marginal Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats to life in an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical was just a bit beyond his still developing twenty-something musical theatre mind. The poetry was ridiculous enough (and it is ridiculous. Everybody who thinks that they like this show should read it.) but putting it to music with ballet? Well, that was sufficient for him to declare, and still maintain, that it was one of his worst evenings ever in a theatre.
I didn't hate it. It really only has one great song and I was wholly impressed by it from a technical standpoint. The make-up, the sets, the movement, and oh that choreography. It was, and still remains, a musical that is fully dependent on an illusion created in a theatre. The distance the audience has from the performers allows for the makeup, costumes, and movement to do their work of conveying an assemblage of cats jumping and leaping all over the stage. When I saw the live television version that was recorded from London in the late eighties, I was disappointed at being able to see the brushstrokes on the performers' faces, the tails held on by chicken wire, and the cheesy looking catsuits. The illusion was lost.
There is a reason that it has taken almost forty years to make a film version of Cats. Cats is basically an abstract dance piece. The cats onstage are not meant to be taken literally. It is a collection of short stories about the names and personalities of a group of felines. There isn't really a storyline that ties them all together. The cats themselves are the story. The idea that a filmmaker could come up with a lucid concept to somehow recreate the magic of the stage on film has always seemed to be illusory. It reminds me of when War Horse was filmed. The amazing puppetry of the horse onstage was lost to the reality of an actual equine. The film was lacking the emotional heft of the stage play that was brought on by the illusion, tricks of the eye, and movement of the "horse" on stage.
And that brings me to the trailer of the upcoming movie version of Cats that was released yesterday. It is available for your viewing pleasure (?) at the bottom of this post. It is disturbing at best and horrific at worst. The felines look like bad Halloween costumes and the CGI of the sets is simply awful. The casting is truly suspect with Jason Derulo the only likely dancer in the group. I mean, c'mon. Taylor Swift mocks her dancing abilities in her own songs. Putting her into a choreographic masterpiece like Cats is like putting me in a swim race against Michael Phelps.
Hollywood has had a terrible time of it lately in adapting Broadway and that is a shame. Hairspray, Mamma Mia, and Les Miz have all suffered from overproduction and bad casting choices. I confess that I hold out very little hope for Cats but the crazy thing is, that I am such an addict of musicals that I will probably shell out the cash for a ticket. That doesn't mean that I should nor should they. Here's hoping they don't mess up In the Heights.
Watch and decide for yourself.
Friday, 19 July 2019
Tuesday, 16 July 2019
I'm OK And I Hope You Are Too.
I had a bit of a health scare over the past few months that thankfully has turned out to be much ado about nothing. The details of the events are not at all important (please don't pester me) and most of the anxiety that I was experiencing came almost entirely from my own neuroses and had nothing to do with anything that my doctor or any other medical professional said or implied by their actions. The good news that all is well was finally confirmed yesterday and that palpable exhale you all probably heard was coming from the west end of downtown Toronto.
But...for three months, I have been sitting on shpilkes. (It's a Yiddish term meant to connote fretfulness. It literally means pins and needles.) I did find outlets for my nervousness. I learned to make macarons. Really. I did. I exercised until my legs fell off. I watched Netflix and The Food Network and more baking shows than I can count. The Husband has been really great at trying to calm my apprehensions. I chose not to share this potential problem with anybody but him and I'm sure I wore him down to his last nerve with my constant need for positive validation. His steadiness is something on which I have relied for decades but when one is thrust into uncertainty it plays on all the ballast that one can muster.
And hence the reason for this post.
It occurred to me yesterday after the "all clear" was given, that there were times during these past months whereby my patience or my ability to process complex thoughts has been laid threadbare. I know that I have been short with friends and loved ones and believe me, I never meant any disrespect or harm. It is just that when people are going through silent pain, it isn't always obvious to those around them. We don't always share our difficulties and exhaustion sometimes takes over. We become strange mysteries to those who should be our closest confidants but because of our need for privacy or independent process, we shut them out. It may not always be fair but it is honest.
We tend to see people as they present themselves to us; the facades that they choose to show the world. We rarely delve deeper either because we simply don't think about it or we choose not to ingratiate ourselves into other people's problems. We really don't understand that maybe they haven't slept in days or that perhaps they are dealing with some problem at work or at home that is just eating away at their goodwill. Maybe the baby is going through something or maybe an ageing parent is a concern. Perhaps they are still grieving or perhaps there are money concerns. That woman in the car honking may have had a gruesome day at the office or that man pushing ahead on the subway may have just received a frantic call from his child's caregiver. We coexist with others but we rarely put ourselves in their shoes.
The world can seem like an incredibly selfish and impersonal place these days. I realize that none of my friends or family could have possibly understood the reasons for my even shorter than usual temper or my overwhelming exhaustion or even my exasperation at simple comments. That sense of being insular is on me. But if I have learned anything through this process is that we are all going through something. A bit of compassion goes a long way even if you aren't aware of anything untoward.
And to those whom I might have pissed off or offended during my three-month-long brain fart, I am truly sorry. I'll do better. I promise.
Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, ha-gomel l’chayavim tovim she-g’malani kol tuv.
Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the world, who rewards the undeserving with goodness,
and who has rewarded me with goodness.
But...for three months, I have been sitting on shpilkes. (It's a Yiddish term meant to connote fretfulness. It literally means pins and needles.) I did find outlets for my nervousness. I learned to make macarons. Really. I did. I exercised until my legs fell off. I watched Netflix and The Food Network and more baking shows than I can count. The Husband has been really great at trying to calm my apprehensions. I chose not to share this potential problem with anybody but him and I'm sure I wore him down to his last nerve with my constant need for positive validation. His steadiness is something on which I have relied for decades but when one is thrust into uncertainty it plays on all the ballast that one can muster.
And hence the reason for this post.
It occurred to me yesterday after the "all clear" was given, that there were times during these past months whereby my patience or my ability to process complex thoughts has been laid threadbare. I know that I have been short with friends and loved ones and believe me, I never meant any disrespect or harm. It is just that when people are going through silent pain, it isn't always obvious to those around them. We don't always share our difficulties and exhaustion sometimes takes over. We become strange mysteries to those who should be our closest confidants but because of our need for privacy or independent process, we shut them out. It may not always be fair but it is honest.
We tend to see people as they present themselves to us; the facades that they choose to show the world. We rarely delve deeper either because we simply don't think about it or we choose not to ingratiate ourselves into other people's problems. We really don't understand that maybe they haven't slept in days or that perhaps they are dealing with some problem at work or at home that is just eating away at their goodwill. Maybe the baby is going through something or maybe an ageing parent is a concern. Perhaps they are still grieving or perhaps there are money concerns. That woman in the car honking may have had a gruesome day at the office or that man pushing ahead on the subway may have just received a frantic call from his child's caregiver. We coexist with others but we rarely put ourselves in their shoes.
The world can seem like an incredibly selfish and impersonal place these days. I realize that none of my friends or family could have possibly understood the reasons for my even shorter than usual temper or my overwhelming exhaustion or even my exasperation at simple comments. That sense of being insular is on me. But if I have learned anything through this process is that we are all going through something. A bit of compassion goes a long way even if you aren't aware of anything untoward.
And to those whom I might have pissed off or offended during my three-month-long brain fart, I am truly sorry. I'll do better. I promise.
Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, ha-gomel l’chayavim tovim she-g’malani kol tuv.
Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the world, who rewards the undeserving with goodness,
and who has rewarded me with goodness.
Thursday, 11 July 2019
I Have Questions
Is it possible to have a real and constructive conversation about the Ontario Amber Alert system without somebody calling me a soulless excuse for a human being who is so incredibly selfish as not to have any care for the wellbeing of children?
While this isn't a direct quote, the sentiment is there. Some of the comments directed to people online today have been atrocious.
Let me get a few things out of the way before I explain my perspective.
1. Amber Alerts save lives. They are an important and necessary tool for law enforcement to track down missing and kidnapped children. There is no discussion nor debate on this point. The faster an Amber Alert is issued, the more likely it is that a child is returned safely home. I am a huge proponent of the system and would never advocate for it to be dismantled. EVER!
2. Anybody who calls 911 to complain about an Amber Alert waking them up in the middle of the night should be heavily fined for misuse of the 911 emergency system. The idea that somebody would think that 911 should be their personal complaint department either clearly doesn't understand what 911 is for or clearly doesn't care. A hefty fine should solve that problem for good.
3. I don't mind being woken up in the middle of the night for reasons of emergency. If there is an emergency situation that I could reasonably help with or contribute to the collective response, wake me. Happy to help. I don't mind the shrill alarm nor do I mind trekking down the stairs of my building in the middle of the night in case of emergency. Missing children are absolutely an emergency.
4. If any child of mine or known to me were the subject of disappearance, I would absolutely want the Amber Alert system to be used. Honestly, who wouldn't?
So now, let's talk.
We can agree to all of the above and still acknowledge that the system could use some tweaking. The two philosophies are NOT mutually exclusive and can co-exist. With that in mind....
I have some questions for the designers of the cellphone notification system and how it is used.
1. Why is there no way to snooze the system when somebody is sleeping? I can put my iPhone on a Do Not Disturb for any other reason, but not the Amber Alert? It is possible for me to silence my phone at night but that leads to another issue, namely...
2. If I silence my phone at night to avoid these alerts while sleeping, how do I receive possible emergency calls from my ageing parents? My parents are at a stage in life whereby a middle of the night call might be essential. Should I have to mute my phone simply because of the Amber Alert? I do not have a landline, so can somebody please explain to me how to rectify this issue?
3. Why wasn't yesterday's Alert done in a timely manner? The children went missing with their grandfather around 1:00 in the afternoon. Why did it take almost fifteen hours to issue the Amber Alert? If this is part of police procedure, then they are doing a poor job of explaining it to the public. Isn't it possible to have released the Alert at say, 9:00pm? Again, just asking questions.
4. Jarring people of a certain age and some with health issues in the middle of the night without remedy to stop it seems shortsighted to me. My father has a heart condition. If he had received that alert at 3:00 am, I'm not sure I would be so rational right now. Aren't we just compounding problems?
5. The only way to disable the Amber Alert on an iPhone here in Ontario is to disable the LTE network. Other jurisdictions have a disable function on their software. Why has this not been explored here? Is the answer for me to disable the LTE each and every night? This isn't meant to sound snarky. I really want to understand it.
While I obviously do not like being woken up at 3:00 am, I do understand the necessity of the Amber Alert system and wholeheartedly endorse it. But it does seem to me that there are some kinks in the system that could and should be looked at so as to better utilize the tool and minimize the communal unrest of middle of the night jarring signals.
And please...idiots...911 is not your personal grievance committee. Stop acting like morons.
While this isn't a direct quote, the sentiment is there. Some of the comments directed to people online today have been atrocious.
Let me get a few things out of the way before I explain my perspective.
1. Amber Alerts save lives. They are an important and necessary tool for law enforcement to track down missing and kidnapped children. There is no discussion nor debate on this point. The faster an Amber Alert is issued, the more likely it is that a child is returned safely home. I am a huge proponent of the system and would never advocate for it to be dismantled. EVER!
2. Anybody who calls 911 to complain about an Amber Alert waking them up in the middle of the night should be heavily fined for misuse of the 911 emergency system. The idea that somebody would think that 911 should be their personal complaint department either clearly doesn't understand what 911 is for or clearly doesn't care. A hefty fine should solve that problem for good.
3. I don't mind being woken up in the middle of the night for reasons of emergency. If there is an emergency situation that I could reasonably help with or contribute to the collective response, wake me. Happy to help. I don't mind the shrill alarm nor do I mind trekking down the stairs of my building in the middle of the night in case of emergency. Missing children are absolutely an emergency.
4. If any child of mine or known to me were the subject of disappearance, I would absolutely want the Amber Alert system to be used. Honestly, who wouldn't?
So now, let's talk.
We can agree to all of the above and still acknowledge that the system could use some tweaking. The two philosophies are NOT mutually exclusive and can co-exist. With that in mind....
I have some questions for the designers of the cellphone notification system and how it is used.
1. Why is there no way to snooze the system when somebody is sleeping? I can put my iPhone on a Do Not Disturb for any other reason, but not the Amber Alert? It is possible for me to silence my phone at night but that leads to another issue, namely...
2. If I silence my phone at night to avoid these alerts while sleeping, how do I receive possible emergency calls from my ageing parents? My parents are at a stage in life whereby a middle of the night call might be essential. Should I have to mute my phone simply because of the Amber Alert? I do not have a landline, so can somebody please explain to me how to rectify this issue?
3. Why wasn't yesterday's Alert done in a timely manner? The children went missing with their grandfather around 1:00 in the afternoon. Why did it take almost fifteen hours to issue the Amber Alert? If this is part of police procedure, then they are doing a poor job of explaining it to the public. Isn't it possible to have released the Alert at say, 9:00pm? Again, just asking questions.
4. Jarring people of a certain age and some with health issues in the middle of the night without remedy to stop it seems shortsighted to me. My father has a heart condition. If he had received that alert at 3:00 am, I'm not sure I would be so rational right now. Aren't we just compounding problems?
5. The only way to disable the Amber Alert on an iPhone here in Ontario is to disable the LTE network. Other jurisdictions have a disable function on their software. Why has this not been explored here? Is the answer for me to disable the LTE each and every night? This isn't meant to sound snarky. I really want to understand it.
While I obviously do not like being woken up at 3:00 am, I do understand the necessity of the Amber Alert system and wholeheartedly endorse it. But it does seem to me that there are some kinks in the system that could and should be looked at so as to better utilize the tool and minimize the communal unrest of middle of the night jarring signals.
And please...idiots...911 is not your personal grievance committee. Stop acting like morons.
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