The truth is, we were practically raised on musicals chez moi. Was it because we were raised overseas and back then, there was basically no TV, save for Top of the Pops in England in the 80s, and a few cheesy European commercials where someone inevitably ends up naked even if they’re not selling soap, or was it because my parents were also raised on musicals and so they paid it forward? Who knows. But we love musicals. And mark my words, my children are being raised with a deep love of musicals. Whenever I meet someone who loathes musicals, I don’t understand them. I wonder if they have ice pumping through their veins or were they raised by wolves? How can you not love 2 hours of a quaint small town in Iowa, for example, where everyone has a great voice and they talk to each other by singing? What’s not to like?
one of the most perfectly choreographed scenes I’ve ever seen in a play began, quelling our anxiety about the absence of stage design and assuring us that the actors were more than capable of compensating for it. Days later, we are still talking about the opening scene, how well choreographed the actors were in mimicking the movement of the train and the great dialogue of “But he doesn’t have a territory” as the other salesmen discuss the con artist known as Harold Hill.