I’m still reliving college days when I attend any theater. There is always this similarity:
a rather carefree atmosphere where only the art matters and reality is "out there"
somewhere beyond the doors, beyond the theater or the college community. The play
Anton in Show Business promised even more of this delicious unreality, a
deviation from my usual family drama, a production about theater. I had
consulted the WVU Calendar link above and was impressed with the Division of
Theatre’s choices for the 2003-2004 season: Father Uxbridge Wants to Marry,
Anton . . . , and The Time of Your Life for this semester. So, I called
304/293-SHOW and reserved our seats.
The evening was perfect, as all theater evenings seem to be. Just a block from the
Creative Arts Center (CAC), Pargo’s Restaurant was the right place for dinner, so close to
the theater that we didn’t have to worry about the drive before curtain time. The Paterson
Drive entrance to the CAC was just meters away. One can ride the PRT from downtown and get off at the first Evansdale stop, but we were driving this time. We were early enough to read the
program and observe the 20-year-olds’ fashions--hats were particularly interesting. The
program told us about the playwright, Jane Martin, probably a pseudonym, probably from
Louisville, Kentucky, but nobody knows who she (or he?) is. She is referred to as
"America’s best known, unknown playwright" and prefers to remain unidentified. (Her
plays have been nominated for Pulitzers and have won other awards.)
After the lights dimmed, a strong female voice began to call out "airport messages" and
then background information pertinent to the story, and one-by-one we were introduced to
the all-female cast. The tall, sexy movie star character was skimpily dressed, but
unabashed in her self-absorbed egocentricity. The Russian director was equally strong as
he (she) hurled insults, and then we met the overbearing Texas crew with their obscenity
and misogynistic, materialistic, crass attitudes that these fine actresses had no problem
communicating. There was a laugh every minute, and some 19-year-old boys in front of
us found even more--they laughed at every four-letter word, even in the middle of a
serious line! (We weren’t irritated, just amused by their incredible lack of
sophistication.)
The standing ovation was genuine and extended. Some of these girls will be stars
someday, as several past graduates have found their places on television and in movies. I
have special hopes for the girl with the impatient, stomping walk and the thick Russian "augh-zent."
Outside, the brisk October air was biting on top of the hill that is Evansdale Campus. I
reflected on how appropriate a warm, modern theater is for a perfect autumn evening fantasy.
Looking back at the round white architecture of the CAC with lights all around, I was
Candide, and this was the most perfect of worlds, all analyzed, categorized, and set in
proper perspective.