So my sister bought me and my mom tickets to Miss Saigon. I assumed it was a gift as there was no mention of how much it cost with the silent implication that I have to pay her back.
Her being my sister, I didn't bother to ask if I owed her anything. If she were someone else not my family, I would. But considering the number of clothes she had stolen borrowed from me over the years that have yet to be returned, I guess that makes us even.
And if she's gonna ask for her money, I'll bring up the clothes.
That's my level of petty. But only with her because she's my sister. She's special.
So, anyway, Miss Saigon was mind blowing. And that's only because right now, I don't have the vocabulary to express it with a much grander adjective. It was awesome. A delightful feast of the senses that started with the loud humming of a helicopter as if it was right above us, the sound of its propellers leading the audience's attention to the stage where The Engineer opens the show, and the story, to Dreamland.
Everything about it was simply fantastic -- the lights, the props, the costumes, the actors, the music -- everything!
Mind you, that was my very first experience with musical theatre so I had nil expectations. Like, at all. Which served me well because I thoroughly immersed myself in the whole entire show and enjoyed every single bit.
My mom did, too. So did my sister. The three of us were fangirling as we stepped out of Her Majesty's Theatre into Melbourne's cold summer night and theatre-goers' cigarette smoke before we decided to go back in the lobby again to escape both while waiting for our beloved driver to confirm his location as to where he would be waiting to pick us up.
And also to take selfies.
But, of course.
I think I'm in love with theatres now. It's definitely an experience in itself to witness human talent in such a creative and collective expression where everything comes together to acknowledge life's joys and tragedies on a platform that transcends time and race.
Hopefully next time, we'll get much better seats where we don't have to bend down and tilt our heads sideways to get a better view of the scenes whose set required like, a two-storey level. The low ceiling was in the way but nothing that our necks couldn't handle.
No comments:
Post a Comment