So clearly I'm a glutton for punishment as I went to go see Dirty Dancing: Das Original Live On Stage tonight in Berlin at the Theater am Potsdamer Platz. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson with foreign-language plays (I'm still traumatized by A Doll's House in Paris) but no, I booked a ticket for Dirty Dancing and here I am, now a veteran of the German musical.
It was absolutely fabulous.
The difference is that, well, the first play I saw was by Henrik freaking Ibsen, and I had never read it or seen it so I was miserable and tired and lost. This, while no Sondheim show, was Dirty Dancing: Das Movie verbatim, and for that I am eternally grateful. Literally word for word (translated), scene for scene, it was exactly the same. Maybe two songs of fifteen were in German. The dialogue was in German but the songs were all in English (clearly learned phonetically by some cast members). I was outrageously drunk, and thus, it was the most incredible time. Part of the reason is because I bought overpriced Riesling but I had factored that requirement into the show-going experience.
It was actually better seeing a show in German because I was pleasantly surprised by how much I understood, whereas in France I was just bitter and disappointed that my A in French 101 didn't let me understand Audrey Tatou doing Ibsen. Also, too bad that the actor playing Johnny was a Teutonic, gayer Cheyenne Jackson with tighter pants and was wholly unbelievable in the role, but whatever. It was DIRTY DANCING: DAS ORIGINAL. I loved every ridiculous second of it. I still love Berlin. ICH BIN EINE BERLINER. I love this city.
No comments:
Post a Comment