Theater Review

In ancient Greece, the people of Athens would once a year gather for a grand festival of drama to honor the god Dionysus. The greatest writers in the land would compete in a game of moving the hearts and minds of their fellow citizens with tragedies and comedies that played upon and brought to light the commonalities of the Greek soul and vision of life. The theater was a secular temple of imagination, a shrine to the power of images and narrative, an experience of worship where art combined with the collective gaze and body of the audience brought the spirit of the god to life, if only for an evening.

Similarly, in the 21st Century the friends and families of people who want to be on TV really bad gather in local community centers and non-profit art spaces as few times as possible to be robbed of $15 dollars and several hours of their time. They sit in the darkness and their imaginations run wild as – right before their eyes – a mere “performance” becomes a “reality” of it’s own, and reality starts revealing itself to be, more and more, a mere performance better when you're watching TV. Thoughts swirl: “Why did we spend do much money for our son to go to film school?” “I’m glad I don’t run the risk of accidentally going to a theater major party anymore. God those sucked. Those people ruin everything,” “Why is it acceptable for adults to spend their time dicking around like this? I wish they were just doing this with their friends at their house and I could imagine they were drunk or had some excuse” “I bet those two are fucking. I'd fuck her.” Cell phones are checked, words of praise and encouragement are practiced silently in heads, how quickly what the last actor just said could lead to a possible end to the story is guesstimated. Dionysus lives again.

Theater: 1 ½ stars, and owes me $15.