Jan. 10th, 2003

D's department organized a field trip to The Blue Demon, the new play that's opened up over at the Huntington.

It was quite nifty. It's an 'Arabian Nights'-inspired comedy with good music, great sets and costumes, good acting, masks, puppets, and a big dragon. And if the Prince in one of the plays-within-the-play kept reminding me of the Prince in 'Holy Grail' who wanted to sing, SING, SING!! so that I kept giggling during what were supposed to be very sad scenes, well, that's a plus, too.

Here's the only thing, and even calling it a nitpick gives it too much credit. See, I'm very literal-minded when it comes to titles. I'm still a teeny-tiny bit disgruntled twenty-two years after discovering that 'Leave it to Beaver' does NOT, in fact, involve any real beavers. And let's not even talk about what I first envisioned when I heard there was a play called 'Night of the Iguana'. (Okay, we can talk about it: it involved Godzilla-scale mayhem, and I was very curious about how they could pull it off).

So, my problem with The Blue Demon? THERE'S NO ACTUAL DEMON. Blue or otherwise. It's the term the Sultan uses to refer to his insomnia. Which is why he needs stories, to divert him when he can't sleep, and therefore we all have Blue Demons and all need stories and tales in our lives and blah blah Gaimancakes.

Hmph.

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oakenguy

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