Ajooma

Last Thursday I saw Dirty Dancing : The Musical, currently cheesing it up at the Aldwych Theater.

I am not a musical goer. In fact, I can’t stand them. I’m not sure why. I like watching professional dancers jitterbugging swinging jumping and jiving. I sit enthralled as Fred Astair moves. Nothing beats live performance. So what’s wrong with Broadway? I think it’s the music. Unfortunately, I’m one of those predominately visual people, and as much as my life is less complete for it, music just doesn’t rock my world. Also, I find bursting into song every 5 minutes ridiculous at the best of times, and annoying otherwise.

Having lived in NY and now London, I realize it is de rigueur for tourists, so I was coerced into watching Les Miserables (friend of the family), Cats (mom & brother), and Chicago*(friend). This time was no exception. My old boss from Korea was here on business trip, en-route from NY. I was taking him around London and he was quite adamant about seeing a musical. I had no idea in the 5 or so years working for him that he was such an aficionado, and had almost seen the whole repertoire of what musicals had to offer.

Even if musicals are not my cup of tea, it’s hard to ignore what’s on offer if you live in London. It’s advertised in all the underground stations, free newspapers, and then there are the theaters dotted around central London, and not sequestered in Times Square like NY where I can avoid them. I’ve also noticed this lazy trend in turning movies into musicals that is even more off putting. A list of offenders include Spamalot, which frankly states it is “lovingly ripped off from the classic film”, Lord of the Rings, and Gone with the Wind. I will take some exception to the musicals that were based on movies that featured lots of songs already (Hairspray & The Producers) I haven’t seen any of these, so maybe I’m talking out of my ass, but what’s wrong with the musical medium that you can’t write something dedicated to just that?

Fresh from seeing Wicked in NY, Ex-Boss was eager to see what London had to offer. I took him to Leicester Square ticket booth where Dirty Dancing had caught his eye. I cringed inside, and tried to subtly persuade him to see something else, but he had seen everything else and wanted something lively so he wouldn’t sleep through it, like he had with Phantom of the Opera. As I queued for the ticket I was secretly hoping they were sold out, but couldn’t fathom that happening. To my surprise, there were just two tickets left which I purchased on the spot.

We arrived at the Aldwych 15 minutes before curtain. Our last minute tickets were nosebleed seats in the upper balcony, but at least centre of the stage. It was kind of funny looking down, as if I was watching people from an airplane about to lift off. The seats had binoculars you can borrow for 50p that I didn’t bother with. This might not be a surprise, but the audience was 90% female, and around my age or older. I don’t remember if the characters in the movie were one dimensional, but here they are shadows of shadows and all the lines are lifted directly from the movie. If you’ve seen the movie, and I’m sure everyone in the audience has, you are not here to see something new. I’m convinced nostalgia is a growing market, one on par with the organic movement. This guardian review sums it up to a T for me, so I won’t go into in too much. But, as soon as the first strands of the all too familiar soundtrack started whoops and cheers rippled through the crowd. It felt like a gigantic hen night, and I started feeling sorry for the minority of men in the audience.

Dirty Dancing is a movie I will always associate with my first slumber party. I was about 11 and it was a BIG DEAL for me. My parents were already alarmed at the rate I was assimilating into American culture, while they tried to instill Korean values that didn’t resonate with me. I spoke English in school, with my brother, with my friends, and my teachers always marveled at how flawless my accent was compared to my parents. When some American friends invited me to stay after school, or even spend the night at their house, my parents were aghast. Even when their parents called my parents to assure them of my safety and promised to bring me home the next day. When I finally convinced them to have a sleep over at my house, I was wild with joy and nervous at how they would think about my living arrangements. I was afraid they might laugh at the smelly food and small size of my house, not to mention the dynamics of the girls who were attending. Little kids can be so cruel. All that kinda of melted away when we put Dirty Dancing into the VCR and bunched around the tv lying around on the extended couch bed. I know I wasn’t mature enough to appreciate all the subtleties the movie had to offer, (something about friction between classes?) but it had lots of great dancing and a memorable soundtrack. There was something deliciously grown up about staying up late, watching a movie with the title Dirty in it with lots of friends without adult supervision that made me think even back then that I was passing a rite of passage. There was even a kid a couple years younger from the block the ‘older’ kids felt we had to protect from the bedroom scenes, covering her eyes when Johnny took off Baby’s top.

All this was passing through my mind as I was watching the musical. The dancing was marvelous, the performers acrobatic and sensual. I decided that if I can’t beat’ em, to join ‘em. There was a roar that rippled through the crowd when the stage showed a mattress, Johnny in briefs, and Baby under the covers. While every female in crowd mentally superimposed themselves on the stage, the camaraderie and good feeling that overflowed manifested in the girl next to me offering to let me get a closer look through her binoculars. Getting an eyeful uplifted my mood, and when Johnny returned on stage after a ferocious motorcycle sound effect, threw his duffel bag down and shouted “Nobody puts Baby in a Corner!” I hollered and waved my arms in the air along with everyone else.

All in all I have to say I liked it, and I think I would have liked it even more if I was out with my girlfriends, where we could have drinks afterwards and confess our first crushes too each other. If you are into cheese, even on a ironic level this is the show for you.

*I actually enjoyed this, and I’m glad I saw it before the movie came out. Thanks HJ!