Let it snow david sedaris12/26/2023 The program noted that he'd recently lost his right foot to diabetes, but was that reason enough to cast him? As Tiny Tim, the boy's spends his stage time essentially trawling for sympathy, stealing focus from even the brightly-lit exit sign. The role was played by young Lamar Williams who, if nothing else, managed to sustain a decent limp. A strong proponent of trendy, racially-mixed casting, Michaels gives us a black Tiny Tim, leaving the audience to wonder, what, is this kid supposed to be adopted? It's a distracting move, wrongheaded and pointless. She tends to clump her actors, moving them only in groups of five or more. Most of the blame goes to the director, 11-year-old Becky Michaels, who seems to have picked up her staging secrets from the school's crossing guard. The point is to eviscerate the gooey center, but here, it's served up as the entree. There's really no point in adapting this Dickensian stinker, unless you're capable of looking beyond the novel's dime-store morality and getting to what little theatrical meat the story has to offer. I might have overlooked the shoddy production values and dry, leaden pacing, but these are sixth graders we're talking about, and they ought to know better. Once again, the sadists at the Jane Snow-Hernandez Middle School have taken up their burning pokers in an attempt to prod A Christmas Carol into some form of submission. Pointing to the oversized crate that served as a manger, one particularly insufficient wise man proclaimed, a child is bored. Thrown into the mix were a handful of inattentive shepherds and a trio of gift-bearing seven-year-olds who could probably give The Three Stooges a run for their money.Īs for the lighting, Sacred Heart Elementary chose to rely on nothing more than the flashbulbs ignited by the obnoxious stage mothers and fathers who had created those zombies, staggering back and forth across the linoleum-floored dining hall. A cloying, preening stage presence, her performance seemed based on nothing but an annoying proclivity towards lifting her skirt and, on rare occasion, opening her eyes.Īs Joseph, second-grade student Douglas Trazzare needed to be reminded that although his character did not technically impregnate the virgin mother, he should behave as though he were capable of doing so. In the role of Mary, six-year-old Shannon Burke just barely manages to pass herself off as a virgin. And the audience soon grows weary of this passionless relationship. Joseph to Mary, we will rest here for the night. One could hardly blame them for their lack of vitality, as the stingy, uninspired script consists not of springy dialogue but rather of a deadening series of pronouncements. Here again, the first through third-grade actors graced the stage with an enthusiasm most children reserve for a smallpox vaccination. The story of the first Christmas is an overrated clunker of a holiday pageant, best left to those looking to cure their chronic insomnia.Īlthough the program listed no director, the apathetic staging suggested the limp, partially-paralyzed hand of Sister Mary Elizabeth Bronson, who should've been excommunicated after last season's disasterous Thanksgiving program. My question is not why they chose to stage the production in a poorly-disguised cafeteria but why they chose to stage it at all. These were mean little chairs, corralled into a theater haunted by the lingering stench of industrial-strength lasagna. If you happen to stand over four feet tall, the agony awaiting you at Sacred Heart Elementary began the moment you took your seat. But as any pathologist will agree, if there's a cancer, it's best to treat it as soon as possible. I will, no doubt, be taken to task for criticizing the work of children. To those of you who enjoy the comfort of a nice set of thumbscrews, allow me to recommend any of the crucified holiday plays and pageants currently eliciting screams of mercy from within the confines of our local elementary and middle schools. We're talking torture on a par with the Scottsfield Dinner Theater's 1994 revival of Come Blow Your Horn, a production that violated every tenet of the Human Rights Accord. I'm talking bone-crushing theater, the type our ancient ancestors used to oppress their enemies before the invention of the stretching rack. The approach of Christmas signifies three things- bad movies, unforgivable television, and even worse theater. Trite Christmas- Scottsfield's young hams offer the blandest of holiday fare.
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