Monday, May 25, 2009
Why Oz? Why Always Oz?
And why in hell did they name a TV show after that Emerald CIty? Particularly a TV show about a prison? Oh well, that's a topic for another blog entry, especially since I have never seen that particular cable show and really should watch it before presuming to write about it.
BUT back to the title point: what is it about THE WIZARD OF OZ that has attracted generations of us to fall under its story-telling spell? Of course, my generation and the one just before it, were the ones that grew up watching the famous movie of it in theaters, then in our homes every single year , year after year...I vividly remember being terrified and angry at that Witch with green skin...and feeling the absolute desolation that Dorothy was feeling when Miss Gulch took Toto away from her to do only-GOd-knew-what to the poor pup....my little girl brain teemed with horrifying possibilities. Year after year after year, since it was an annual television staple.
And Judy Garland was as iconic a Dorothy as anybody could ever want: those liquid brown eyes, sadder than the deepest little girl sorrow, brimming with silver tears, and her lush red lips proclaiming her adolescent innocence even as they invited countless gay men to imitate them in years to come...Judy Garland suffered for our sins and was not afraid to show the pain of it, so naturally, when Frank Baum's myth met that of the silver screen's stunted darling, yet another legend was born, and for me , that partially accounts for OZ's sticky appeal: it was sung to the heavens by a girl who knew how to act the hell out of a pretty and yearning song!
But as I sat and watched our theater's final run-through in the Big Rehearsal Hall last evening, just before it launches into what promises to be a most challenging tech week before the show opens on May 29th, they had me the minute Toto ran onstage into Dorothy's arms in the first seconds of the Overture! My tears began to flow! Much the same way they did when I went to Disney World at age 50 and saw those iconic creatures walking around for the first time within my reach! I saw them, floodgates of childhood slid open without a creak, and I was back in the living room at 2180 Edison Avenue, watching Sunday night television and Daddy was cooking his spaghetti sauce in the kitchen. Sometimes one is 8 years old so quickly.
And last night, when Trish M. came wriggling on as the green-faced witchy one, and i heard those time etched lines again, I felt that same stomach churning I used to feel watching Margaret Hamilton stick her sharp nose into the air and sniff for Dorothy.....
Is it because WOZ tells us that our need for home is all that finally matters , or should matter? And since we all have homes to begin with, no matter how temporary or shabby, HOME is something we all need to know is there to remind us we truly exist?
Or does the OZ story speak more directly to our human ability to create dreams out of our realities: the common figures in our everyday lives become the saviors in our dreams. That tall man we know as Father becomes the flawed Wizard who we nonetheless love...our brother becomes our Tin Man who finally has the heart he was never really without all along...our Mom becomes the very best of Good Witches....and our cousins help us along the road, no matter if they are made of straw or not....and that meek person inside us, really does have the courage of a lion after all, when the chips are down.
Really, there is nothing quite as revealing as a final run-through in a bare and end-of-week hall, with everyone endlessly tired and overworked and an enormous mountain to climb looms in front of them: no sets, no lights, no costumes, except for the awkward and necessary pieces actors need to rehearse in....but here we all sat, watching our myths dance before our eyes, and combined with the well-worn and practical talents of this good acting company, so used to working together, OZ's story came thoroughly alive, even if the local Toto did wander off on the wrong side of the stage every now and again...the combination of clever minds our company is filled with, legendary music and the sheer fizz of actors doing what they love, no matter how tired they are, resulted in a thoroughly optimistic feeling within me and I was comfortable accepting the fact that one never really does need to grow up after all: we can all stay green forever!
BUT back to the title point: what is it about THE WIZARD OF OZ that has attracted generations of us to fall under its story-telling spell? Of course, my generation and the one just before it, were the ones that grew up watching the famous movie of it in theaters, then in our homes every single year , year after year...I vividly remember being terrified and angry at that Witch with green skin...and feeling the absolute desolation that Dorothy was feeling when Miss Gulch took Toto away from her to do only-GOd-knew-what to the poor pup....my little girl brain teemed with horrifying possibilities. Year after year after year, since it was an annual television staple.
And Judy Garland was as iconic a Dorothy as anybody could ever want: those liquid brown eyes, sadder than the deepest little girl sorrow, brimming with silver tears, and her lush red lips proclaiming her adolescent innocence even as they invited countless gay men to imitate them in years to come...Judy Garland suffered for our sins and was not afraid to show the pain of it, so naturally, when Frank Baum's myth met that of the silver screen's stunted darling, yet another legend was born, and for me , that partially accounts for OZ's sticky appeal: it was sung to the heavens by a girl who knew how to act the hell out of a pretty and yearning song!
But as I sat and watched our theater's final run-through in the Big Rehearsal Hall last evening, just before it launches into what promises to be a most challenging tech week before the show opens on May 29th, they had me the minute Toto ran onstage into Dorothy's arms in the first seconds of the Overture! My tears began to flow! Much the same way they did when I went to Disney World at age 50 and saw those iconic creatures walking around for the first time within my reach! I saw them, floodgates of childhood slid open without a creak, and I was back in the living room at 2180 Edison Avenue, watching Sunday night television and Daddy was cooking his spaghetti sauce in the kitchen. Sometimes one is 8 years old so quickly.
And last night, when Trish M. came wriggling on as the green-faced witchy one, and i heard those time etched lines again, I felt that same stomach churning I used to feel watching Margaret Hamilton stick her sharp nose into the air and sniff for Dorothy.....
Is it because WOZ tells us that our need for home is all that finally matters , or should matter? And since we all have homes to begin with, no matter how temporary or shabby, HOME is something we all need to know is there to remind us we truly exist?
Or does the OZ story speak more directly to our human ability to create dreams out of our realities: the common figures in our everyday lives become the saviors in our dreams. That tall man we know as Father becomes the flawed Wizard who we nonetheless love...our brother becomes our Tin Man who finally has the heart he was never really without all along...our Mom becomes the very best of Good Witches....and our cousins help us along the road, no matter if they are made of straw or not....and that meek person inside us, really does have the courage of a lion after all, when the chips are down.
Really, there is nothing quite as revealing as a final run-through in a bare and end-of-week hall, with everyone endlessly tired and overworked and an enormous mountain to climb looms in front of them: no sets, no lights, no costumes, except for the awkward and necessary pieces actors need to rehearse in....but here we all sat, watching our myths dance before our eyes, and combined with the well-worn and practical talents of this good acting company, so used to working together, OZ's story came thoroughly alive, even if the local Toto did wander off on the wrong side of the stage every now and again...the combination of clever minds our company is filled with, legendary music and the sheer fizz of actors doing what they love, no matter how tired they are, resulted in a thoroughly optimistic feeling within me and I was comfortable accepting the fact that one never really does need to grow up after all: we can all stay green forever!
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