Footloose

Last night I saw my 12 year old cousin’s theatrical debut in Berner Middle School’s production of Footloose. My dad asked if I was going to blog about it. My initial response was, “Ummmm, of course not.” But, a couple of weeks ago the New York Times theatre critic, Charles Isherwood, had a cameo on “Gossip Girl.” Isherwood, as himself, attended the fictional private school’s production of “The Age of Innocence.” Isherwood was pretty stiff, but it was hilariously meta and unintentionally brought up an interesting point: what is and is not worthy of critique. Don’t worry, I’m not planning on excoriating the middle school musical, but I figure if Isherwood can see and think a high school production was “genius,” I can certainly admit to having one heck of a good time at Berner last night.

No seriously, I was incredibly impressed by the middle school’s stage craft. They had a fly crew. I remember my middle school musical—we acted on a makeshift stage in the gym. These kids has scenery flying in and out and movable set pieces that a small army of crewmembers whisked off and on stage. Those kids were mighty professional too; one boy lingered after everything was on to make sure the tablecloths at the diner were perfectly straight. But this floored me—the kids were miked. I remember when the Wellesley theater department and Upstage, the student theater group, split the cost of a set of head mikes for a production of “Blood Brothers.” It was a BIG day. Either mikes have gotten a lot cheaper or the school has money. Maybe both. Either way, I’m grateful the kids were miked. We wouldn’t have heard them otherwise.

And I finally understood why middle schools and high schools fanatically LOVE the musical (a genre of theater I really dislike). Sure, you can involve a lot more kids, but the genre is really a gift to an audience of captive family members. 13 year olds really can’t act, but a lot of them can sing and dance. And these kids sang and danced their hearts out. It was adorable and joyous and fun. The girl who sang “Lets Hear It for the Boy” was a precociously good singer and brought down the house (and not for the first time when I was attending one of my cousin’s school functions did I wonder what ‘ol Humbert Humbert would think of these child-women).

The auditorium was packed with parents, family members, friends, teachers, and staff who all beamed with pride. At the end, we rose and stood en masse to give these kids a standing ovation. And as everyone left, there were outbreaks of impromptu sashaying through the parking lot (my family among the guilty). It’s been a long time since I’ve had such an unexpected, heartwarming evening of joy and celebration. Let’s hear it for the kids at Berner!