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September 2, 2010
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A not so ‘wicked’ tale
Published October 19, 2008
It’s a tale of how the Wicked Witch of the West became so wicked and of how the good witch became so nice.
It’s a story of Oz before Dorothy and Toto followed the Yellow Brick Road.
It’s a prequel, if you will, to the wonderful story of the Tin Man, Scarecrow and Cowardly Lion.
But what “Wicked” isn’t supposed to be about is the dozens of ignorant theater goers who chose to take their time finding their seats, blocking the view of the Fox Theater stage while hundreds of others waited for them to stop grazing on their popcorn.
I’ll be the first to admit, I am not one of those haughty theater types who make the trip to the Fox in Atlanta often. I really don’t enjoy the theater. I’m not a fan of the overly embellished dialogue, the endless number of songs and frou-frou costumes. Give me some beer, chicken wings and a football game and you’ll be my friend for life.
But the difference between me and the seemingly never-ending chain of wine-sipping “Wicked” watchers who attended a recent performance, is that I respect the theater, actors, musicians and other theatergoers.
I was apprehensive about going to see “Wicked,” but my wife is addicted to the play. She and her sister sing the songs and buy the merchandise. So the biggest concern I had was being able to put a smile on my face big enough to show I was interested in the production.
Little did I know it would be the herd of gussied-up housewives who ignore proper etiquette when attending a play that would be my biggest concern.
No people, this isn’t a ball game; you can’t stroll in during the third inning with a beer and a hot dog. It’s not a movie; there are no coming attractions playing while you are in line getting Milk Duds and Mr. Pibb. And it’s not a rock concert where blocking the performer is OK while you crowd surf.
This is the “theater” and for $50 per ticket, I better see every second of the musical, not you stumbling to your seat with a half finished cup of chardonnay stained with cheap lipstick.
I did enjoy the show much more than I thought. But I did come away knowing why Atlanta is not known as a theatrical center.
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