Monday, August 20, 2007

My Superior Attitude

My three faithful blog readers will remember my entry about last year’s Catties…right? Well I believe I said there was no way I was dragging my ass out this year. So, obviously, Saturday night found me at everyone’s favorite awards show. It was a bit of a downer for me this year. Maybe it was because I didn’t help coordinate the awards at all so I had no sense of ownership. Maybe it was because I didn’t do any shows this year and therefore had no potential wins to look forward to and no loses to bemoan after the fact. I feel that to truly enjoy an awards show you have to be invested in it; you need to really care whether somebody wins…or loses.

I just couldn’t get it up this year. Oh, I tried. I tried my best to get my hate on for my usual punching bags but it wasn’t working for me. I tried to feel satisfied when they lost, and lost, and lost. I made all the right comments and I tried my very hardest to find that superior feeling but I couldn’t find it anywhere, not even wedged down in my toes.

But without my superior attitude I’m just left standing in a room full of people that I don’t really know and probably don’t really like. That they don’t like me is assumed, I am the bitch that criticizes their shows after all.

I really hope that I was just having an off-day. Without my bitterness and resentment I’ve got no comedic material. I’ll be lost for conversation. I’d lapse into a silence from which I may never emerge. Depression would slowly overtake me and I would emerge a nice person who simply nodded along and agreed with whatever you were saying. Shudder.

Nothing like the Catties to fuel my existential crisis.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Live from the Calgary Fringe - August 11

Chatting with theatre friends and acquaintances reduces my "blogging" time. I thankfully make my way to a new venue. Not that the Legion isn't a charming space...oh wait, no, it is an underfunded shit hole. The Max Bell Lobby converts fairly nicely into a theatre. A few strategically placed blacks would have helped, of course, but heaven forbid the fringe spend money on something other than their staff. A light stays on directly over where I am sitting. hmmmmm....my view of the stage is blocked by a large head. If only they had brought in some risers I could actually see the stage.

The show breaks my losing streak and I'm now 1-4. What a relief. I mosey downstairs towards our meeting place. Soon I will dissect this night of theatre.

One show left to go...

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Live from the Calgary Fringe - August 10

Here I am at the Royal Canadian Legion. As expected there were problems picking up my badge at the door. Who is not surprised? Me.

The Legion is still open and functioning as a legion does. It's very strange to have people drinking and smoking and chatting loudly behind the "theatre" seating. Aha! A badge has made it my way courtesy of the Man himself.

I'm sitting awkwardly behind the director. I know him but I don't think we like each other very much. He's hard to read and his reasons for not liking me may, in fact, be entirely snobbery.

The signage on this venue was terrible espeically given the construction outside. The show will start momentarily and there are still legionaires drinking in the back.

There are 10 people other than me here and the director and his wife are irritated (thinly veiled) that the legionaires in the back are "watching" the show for free. As if they asked for their legion to be invaded by this festival. 4 more people roll in and it becomes obvious that every person here except me and one awkward bald man are a friend of the actor or director.

A lame announcement tells us that the show is beginning (only 5 minutes late).....

Post-show I stumble off for sustinenance in the form of diet coke and a dry rice crispy square. Mediocre theatre always gets me down. I head back in for my second show.

I sit alone in the lobby admist schmoozing. LBH should know who I am but doesn't, of course. I look conspicuous writing in my little notebook. I should be writing my review for the last show I saw but instead I'm distracted by the schmooze happening all around me. More vague theatre acquaintances fill the tiny lobby space contributing to my growing feeling of unease. A migraine slowly builds behind my left eye. The urge to have an anti-social screaming outburst passes.

I am back in the same uncomfortable wooden chairs. I sneak a covert sip of Diet Coke. I like the inky flow of my pen and I hope against hope that this sketch comedy won't disappoint. In an unfilled theatre people choose seats right next to me and suddenly I'm surrounded.

The show starts....

I'm 0 for 2 at this point. I head off in search of Mr. Rose and food. Footloose people block my way and I'm sucked into a whirling vortex of conversation. Some good may come of it.

I arrive at my third show with friends in tow. A waste in this crowd where no false celebrities are present and my shield is not necessary. My energy is flagging and the migraine pounds now. Lights go down and we eagerly? await the start of the show.

I'm 0 for 3 and it's late. I hope against hope that my second day at the fringe will redeem this long and questionable night.