DISCLAIMER:
This is not officially a film review but it’s a review none the lessand since theatre seems to apparently be my thing (at least that’s what I keep getting told) I thought I should show off a bit of upper-middle class culture I’m accustomed to as a university arts graduate. I also like to shove my opinion about pretty much anything that ever existed on the planet down anyone’s throat who will read, listen or tolerate. And so, melbournemovieclub presents:
7 Fingers - Part 1
The state theatre/playbox side of the Arts Centre, as we all know coughs (if any of my readership has a smidgeon+ of class that is) is completely covered in vermilion++ red velveteen carpet. Every piece of the floor, every step, seat, wall etc, is covered, which results in a sort of ‘???’-esque jungle gym. One, such as myself, wants to army roll down the stairs, cartwheel my heavy self across the floor towards door 4 then tumble through the aforementioned doorway into the swanky state theatre. To one, such as myself, the dark rimmed glasses, black, burgundy and grey uniform of the State theatre patrons seems a little uptight and out of place. But I guess that just me, I’m one in a vermilion#.
I arrived early and nabbed myself (it didn’t hurt a bit) a $20 student rush ticket, great seat, cheap price, ya can’t go wrong. Being allocated Door 4, I was the one of the first 20 people to be let into the theatre. Instead of shown being politely and professionally with a swift hand gesture pointing to the door with bold gold writing which reads ‘DOOR 4’, the people in black uniforms (all their names seem to be the same since everyone’s shirts read The Arts Centre in embroidered gold writing…odd, but maybe it’s a requirement for a position at the prestigious Arts Centre) directed us towards more casual staff members, (who were wearing T-SHIRTS of all things, ‘gosh’ I thought to myself, ‘this is very hip isn’t it’) to another less carpeted more white door. ‘Turn to the left until you get to the red carpet’ (always with the red carpet) said one of the t-shirted ushers. Then through a darkened doorway with a sign that read *misty and reverential voice The Stage Door.
It took me a while - as we of the door 4 walked the boards and noted the stage lights that were focused towards the roof emulating and increasing the mystery of it all – to realise that a dream of mine had come true…I was on the stage of the state theatre! Beautiful ballerinas, dramatic opera singers and powerful performers had graced this stage and me, lil ol me was given the privilege by Canadian circus/cabaret company 7 fingers to realise this the dream. The season has finished so I am not ruining anything for those who were thinking about seeing it.
A herd of regional dwelling tracksuit pants with sunglasses placed with precision on top of their straightened haired heads stood behind me in the line on the red carpet. ‘This could be bad’, said the one with the diamante-studded earrings (how bling) as we waited on the red carpet, back stage, on stage at the State Theatre. Any performance that encompasses an experience from the moment the audience crosses the barrier between the foyer and the theatre in my mind is what theatre should be and this experience, for me, so far, and by far was far from bad and the attitude of that tracksuit behind me. This was essentially good. We stood listening to DJ Pocket, who would later go on to impress me no end and changed my “DJing is an art?? Shpffft…ok, whatever” * snobby music chip on my shoulder.
The line began to move and we all entered the theatre through a fridge, on stage, and for the first time I got to look out on empty seats in the theatre from the stage. An inspiring moment for a young performer truth be known. This, of course, for a lone audience member and imitator of cool, such as myself, can be a little confronting but the Canadian troop who were milling around the fridge door and stage and theatre in general, were in incredibly friendly, warm and welcoming. No jokes made at anyone’s expense just a quick shake of the hand and an introduction and then we were kindly allowed to make our way to our seats, where we were offered chips (but how many chips are you allowed to take? I took one cause its rude to decline and if I take a handful I look like a greedy 7 year old who doesn’t understand the rules of society yet…think though that most 7 years get the rules of society much better than I do at times).
As the audience wandered in it was interesting to watch similar reactions of people from age 60 to 6, a little frightened, a little in awe, but pleasantly enjoying the experience.
Then the performance began.
To be continued…
+smidgeon is actually a word! Language is totally cool, dood. Dood isn’t a word, though. But dude is! Dood is still too street, like werd etc. Richmond street that is.
++vermilion - a bright red, sometimes tinged with orange. Ok so perhaps the carpet in the arts centre is maroon or blood red, even scarlet, merlot, but vermilion rolls off the tongue so nicely, go on say it out loud, vermilion…mmm.
#oh come one, that was GOLD!
*anyone mentions Bon Jovi…they…will…ah…be struck down…by…some virtual cyber force, that is yet to be named, but it hurts, it really hurts.
