It is 12:10 AM, I am barreling down M34 in the passenger seat of my parents’ Trailblazer in the whispering light of the full moon engulfed by clouds, my father at the wheel as I, drenched in sweat and shaking, sob precious tears of both grief and profound joy.
For I have been to the Cabaret.
I have experienced one of the greatest and most profound theatrical moments, and subsequent nights of my life.
By the time you read this, the show that rocked The Croswell’s landscape is more than likely in the past. Let this review act as a sort of final testament to the truly awesome display of raw emotion and carnal energy that was not simply watched, but mourned and lived all at once by an audience left speechless. Or at the very least, I was.
There was a Cabaret, and it was beautiful.
With characters so purely acted and crafted you loved them by their first steps across the stage, it was genuinely difficult to watch some parts of the second act. Please don’t take that as a criticism, but rather the exact opposite, The raw emotion seeping through these individual’s performances was so intense that I couldn’t help but feel, well, everything. There were people on that stage I consider friends become near unrecognizable in the most profound ways possible. I found myself cringing as I clapped for some truly horrific scenes, and none of them were the risqué ones, yet feeling no other way to appreciate the art in front of me. In fact, the absurd and perverse served as a wonderful palette cleanse for the sheer tension while simultaneously being just as well crafted as the dramatic scenes.
I remember looking around as the Kit Kat Club shifted from a dance floor to soldiers marching, seeing the shadows cast upon the walls of the building in a green light. seemingly enveloping the room and audience itself into the heinous fold. The Croswell became something different in those shadows, temporal, unreal. It was a seemingly simple twist of light and shadow, but it will never leave my soul.
I would like to thank everyone who helped create this truly breathtaking experience. There are far too many to name here but the Director, Erica Wyman Abrahamson, Music Director Todd Scheiber, Choreographer Dom Glover, and my dear friend and Stage Manager Conner Raymond are just some of the backstage talents. Not to mention the divine actors and dancers of David Blackburn, Love Ruddell, Matthew Porter, Kyler Mattoon, Chris Stack, Julia Spanja Hoffert, Jared Hoffert, and many, many others who made their mark indelibly on the stage.
There was a Cabaret, and it was beautiful. However, little did I know, a second one was about to begin that same night.
My friend and awesome film critic, Nate Adams, invited me to join him for a post-show drink at Farver’s, The Croswell’s in-house bar. Truthfully, this was one of the first times I had done something like this before. It felt spontaneous and wonderful, despite it being all quite conventional. Matthew, Love, Kyler, and a whole swath of the cast came down with us, with Erica, the Director, and David, who played the EmCee, even joining us for a while. We talked about everything from the show to life and it’s ups, downs, beginnings and endings. I showed people my poetry as I sang them praises for their acting they graciously reflected on my verses. This might be my ego talking, but I felt so vindicated and blessed to be among people who were not only respectful of my differences and endeavors, but also fully understanding as well. We were artists and writers from all walks of life, coming together to share our pains and joys with the friends we have and have yet to make.
Matthew told me about his own personal struggles throughout his lifetime as an actor and they made my daily struggles seem like a cakewalk, while at the same time, gave me the confidence to do more for myself, despite what challenges I face. It felt like the confidence I often forget I have.
Yet again, I felt this cabaret camaraderie at The Croswell during my first rehearsal for The SpongeBob Musical. During this inaugural experience, I was nervous, tight and tired. Having no idea what my place was, I felt like I needed to make a good first impression. While I think I did that, being around and meeting the wonderful people on the cast really helped me feel a ton more confident and comfortable about myself. I realized they were just as challenged, if not more than I am, and in order to do the best I can, I would simply have to be myself. My fellow citizens of Bikini Bottom are a tremendous blessing because they make me want to do better because they are in the same ocean as me, cheering me on just as much as I cheer on them. There will undoubtedly be hardships and challenges. In fact, staying up late and getting up early is already taking a toll. There is also an immense anticipation and excitement that, while absolutely wonderful, I may need to hone down a little bit. Excitement is great for the soul, yet hard on the body. Instead of being fixated on my role, I’m trying to get my writing done and my work done with a renewed passion and Inspiration, I must take my own advice from the past and strive for beautiful things in all aspects of my crazy, beautiful life and do it with the best people standing by me.
Even as I write this, in a similar state of emboldened, giddy soreness as I was after Cabaret (minus the alcohol induced symptoms), I realize perhaps that is what truly makes the cabaret we call life so special. We have excruciating moments we think we can never outlive, sometimes on a near daily basis, but yet we persist for those small, unknown moments we are seen or create the unseen. We live in toil so we can love ourselves and others We toil to lift our loved ones up like they lift us, gently, yet heaving. Moments among friends like this show us a spotlight we can achieve ourselves, but not until our feeble eyes adjust to the blinding light of our own potential. Our own eyes may burn and squint at the light of our greatness, but if we applaud the people we can see, they might just applaud us as well.
Life may indeed be a cabaret; a comedy at times, others tragedies or farces, even straight up horror stories occasionally, but we can always remember to look back on the times we were a dancer in our dream club or a singer in a chorus of friends and strive for that kind of unity once more. Go to where you feel most welcome and welcome those who strive to join you. We all have our part. Let’s not forget that along the way.
Photo credit: Croswell Opera House
Calm and Cultured 