Amateur Theatre

Nothing chills the heart of Man like the words "Amateur Theatre". And yet, I found myself this evening attending a Wellington Repertory Theatre performance of "Terry Pratchett's Lords and Ladies." Fran invited me and Andy because there was a concession on group bookings, which was very sweet of her. Thus we joined a group of like-minded Pratchett geeks. But nothing could have prepared me for the horror that would await me deep within the heart of the Gryphon Theatre (this sounds like hyperbole but its not. At all.) Everything bad about Amateur Theatre was present in this play. EVERYTHING. Plastic swords, people consistently forgetting their lines, impenetrable fake accents, a bad primate costume. The lights went down for a scene change at least every ten minutes. Parts of it made no sense. There was a scene where two of the actors stood at the front of the stage and talked to a badly cued tape recording. Halfway through the play there was a fifteen minute intermission where Andy and I considered escaping, but decided that that would be unfathomably rude. Fran asked us whether we thought the Queen of the Fairies had a lisp. In the end we sat through two and half hours worth of the worst theatre I have ever scene (thats TWO and HALF hours of Amateur Theatre). There was a point where the play was so bad that it became good again like a really kitschy film ("The Holy Mountain", maybe?) By the end of the play I was in internal hysterics, barely suppressed. And yet, so glad that I went. It was certainly An Experience.